Volume I, Number X

THE VOICE OF FIRE
 

Illustration: Night of the Pagans by Barry Van-Asten

 

Volume 1, Number 10. Autumn Equinox An CIX ☉ in 0° Libra, ☽ in 29° Capricorn.

Wednesday 23rd September 2015 e.v.

 

'Draw into naught

All life, death, hatred, love:

All self concentred in the sole desire -

Hear thou the Voice of Fire!'

Tannhauser. Aleister Crowley.

 

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.

Love is the law, love under will.

 

Volume 1, Number X of the Voice of Fire is dedicated to Oscar Eckenstein [1859-1921]

CONTENTS

 

                                                          Editorial

                                                          Oscar Eckenstein

                                                          Liber Stellae Rubeae

                                                          The Qabalah: an introduction

                                                          Lucifer

                                                          A dark eternal love
                                                          Heat and Dust: Crowley's walk across Spain

                                                          An epistle upon the sordid duty of marriage

                                                          Two Gods am I
                                                          The Wand of Silence
                                                          The Magic Book Worm
                                                          Pegamina parts eleven and twelve



 

EDITORIAL
 

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law

It is with deep sadness and regret that we must inform our thoughtful and observant readers of the tragic loss of our dear friend and faithful editor here at the Voice of Fire. With no word of communication from him in several weeks it is assumed his gentle soul has been uplifted to more splendid heights, ones more than our mere Capital of this fair and measured old country of ours can afford!

Habeas corpus hic et nunc!

Anthony Blanche

(Editor in waiting)

Brother Blanche, weep no more for news of my sad demise is unfounded, I have merely hitched my temple to the wind and set in a middle shire of England! No Mr Blanche, there was no long illness; no wasted words of mourning for I am not deceased. I have not lost the balance of my mind (as some would say) in my decision to leave your murderous metropolis; your celestial city of torment that grows ever more distasteful by the division between the obscenely rich and the unfortunate poor. But what is the difference between leaving London and madness or even death? you ask –

adhuc sub juduce lis est.

Yes Blanche and dear reader take heart and be encouraged, for there is indeed life after London!

Aside from the temple’s new location I have been walking the Cleveland Way in the North Yorkshire Moors and being surrounded by the wild landscape of the heather moorland with its grouse butts and seemingly endless paths; the woodland which provides shade in the heat of the sun and the coastline with its bracing wind and salty air; all this gives a good example of how a journey can be so varied and diverse. These long distance trails, like the magical journey we are all on are filled with interest and surprise at every step, such as the monuments in the landscape, the wonderful view-points, meetings with fellow travellers and glimpsing the usually hidden wildlife – the magic is everywhere and we are reminded that it is the journey itself, not just the destination which is important!
As the light of summer fades and we prepare for the darkness of winter ahead, I cannot help but think of the many such journeys I have taken, such as walking the South Downs and the North Downs; walking the Speyside Way in Scotland and cycling the Great Glen and the Peddars Way; walking the North Norfolk Coast; touching upon the Pennines, the Cornish Coast and Offa’s Dyke... there is so much to explore within this beautiful Isle we live upon. From each and every one of these journeys experiences are retained and continue with us through life for nature is the great teacher to everyone who wishes to study under her!
I am also reminded how each of us can create our own small wonder of nature for ourselves; our own sacred space. The English garden is not only a space to gather around the ubiquitous barbeque eating partially burnt bloody meat or blackened tasteless flesh washed down with beer and wine! If you are fortunate enough to have a garden then this can become much more for it has a definite boundary which like the magic circle can be seen as a magical circumference with its ordinal points. This ‘sacred space’ can be used for magical workings and if you are lucky enough not to be overlooked then simple or even elaborate rituals can be performed sky clad, as our friends in the pagan community like to say!
The garden should provide nourishment for the soul and ideally for the body too in the growing of fruit, vegetables and herbs – this could be a small salad crop in a container if you have little or no outside space (I lived in London for eighteen years without an outside space and so a small window sill became like a sacred altar to nature!) Some see it as an outer room, a place to relax and de-stress; some garden by the phases of the moon and others simply let their garden grow wild

‘Let the garden be forever o’ergrown, for nature’s o’ergrown!’

I am reminded of the poet and gardener James Ernest Turner (1909-1975) who says in the first chapter of the first volume of his marvellous autobiography ‘Seven gardens for Catherine’ (1968) that ‘the record of a man’s gardening is the autobiography if not of his soul, certainly of his body. His fingers, hands and feet will bear traces of cuts and blisters turned to callouses from the time he digs his first spit of earth to his last, even as his mind will bear traces of all the plants he has grown, all the books he has read on the subject, all his triumphs and all his failures. The only earth he will never dig is that of his own grave.’ [1. When Sidcup was a village]

Should there be some choice of labour in the afterlife then give me an acre of land that I may garden through seasons of solitude for eternity!

Love is the law, love under will.

The Voice of Fire welcomes submissions (poetry, short stories, articles and reviews etc). Please send all submissions to the editor at barryvanasten418@hotmail.com

 

 

Oscar Eckenstein (1859-1921)

 

Frederick Gottlieb Eckenstein, a German Jewish refugee was born on 3rd September 1820 in Bingen, Germany. Frederick left Bonn in 1848 because of his ‘socialist activities’ for which he could have been prosecuted. He married Julie Amalie Antonia Helmke (born c. 1832) in 1851 in Germany. They came to England and in London Frederick began an export company called Kumph and Eckenstein. Frederick and Julie had seven children all born in Islington, London:

 

1851: Birth of Anna Lena Antonia Romana Eckenstein.

1853: Birth of Ernst Ferdinand Gottlieb Eckenstein. Ernst died in 1915.

1854: Birth of Hermine Lina Antonia Erica Eckenstein. Hermine died in 1863.

1856: Birth of Antonia Sina Dorina Sophie Viola Eckenstein. Antonia also died in 1863.

1857: Birth of Lina Dorina Johanna Eckenstein. Lina died in 1931.

1859: Birth of Oscar Johannes Ludwig Eckenstein, born Friday 9th September in Canonbury, Islington and christened on 1st December 1859 at Whitechapel.

1868: Birth of Antonia J. S. T. Eckenstein.

 

Oscar attended University College School and studied chemistry in London and Bonn. He worked as a chemist but he is mostly known as an engineer who worked with the International Railway Congress Association.

 

1872: Oscar, who is a very good climber, climbs his first mountain.

 

Friday 30th July 1886: He climbs in the Alps – Hohberghorn (west ridge) with Herr August Lorria.

Friday 6th August 1886: Climbs Galenhorn with Lorria.

Saturday 7th August 1886: Climbs Klein Durrenhorn with Lorria. Also during this time Oscar makes several first ascents of YLliwedd (2,946 feet) in North Wales. Monday 8th August 1887: Climbs Stecknadelhorn (ascent and traverse) with Matthias Zurbriggen (1856-1917) in Pennine Alps. They also climb the south west ridge of the Durrenhorn and the Nadeljoch (between Lenzspitz and Nadelhorn).

 

1889: ‘The Alpine Portfolio. The Pennine Alps from the Simplon to the Great St. Bernard’ is published in London edited by Eckenstein and August Lorria. Eckenstein and Matthias Zurbriggen also climb a new route up the Dent Blanche.

 

1891: Oscar is climbing in Zermatt. Oscar’s father Frederick dies.

 

1892: Eckenstein is part of the Karakora Expedition led by Martin Conway (1856-1937). Also on the team was Oscar’s climbing companion Matthias Zurbriggen. Oscar unfortunately left the expedition early on Sunday 17th July at Askole and returned to London. Conway reported that it was due to ill health, but Oscar states that it was due to tension between himself and Conway. Oscar was on the expedition for two and a half months and felt there was too much reconnoitring and not enough actual climbing.

 

1893: Oscar is living with his mother in South Hampstead at 34 Greencroft Gardens N. W.

 

1896: ‘The Karakorams and Kashmir: An Account of a Journey’ by Oscar Eckenstein is published in London (by T. Fisher Unwin).

 

1898: Oscar climbs – Schonbuhl Glacier with Karl Blodig (1859-1956) and the Weisshorn (14,780 feet), Lyskamm (14,852 feet), Dent Blanche (14,291 feet) and the Matterhorn (14,692 feet) with Guy Knowles (1879-1959).

March and April 1898: Oscar Eckenstein and Aleister Crowley meet at Wastdale Head and they begin to climb together. Oscar has an interest in mysticism and techniques of training the mind to be focused.

July – August 1898: Eckenstein and Crowley camp in the Alps above the snow line at 11,500 feet below the Dent Blanche (14,291 feet) and beside the Schonbuhl Glacier. Oscar is teaching Crowley different climbing techniques. A bond has quickly forged between them with their shared distaste of the Alpine Club and their passion for climbing and outdoor life.

 

January – March 1900: Following Crowley’s initiation in Paris by Mathers Crowley asked Eckenstein to come to his home, Boleskine House in Scotland for the ‘ski-laufing’ and the salmon fishing. They left London together in a sleeper train (see Confessions p. 352) In Scotland they climb the rocks around Boleskine and across the Loch and Crowley writes a climbing paper for Oscar which they revise together. Oscar would stay at Boleskine on other occasions and he adored Crowley’s wife Rose, considering Crowley’s poem ‘Rosa Mundi’ the finest love lyric in the English language.

December 1900: Oscar joins Crowley in Mexico where they climb the volcanic mountains together.

 

January 1901: Oscar and Aleister are in Amecameca, 36 miles south east of Mexico City. They spent three weeks climbing Ixtacihuatl (the ‘White Lady’ of Mexico, a triple-peaked extinct volcano at 17,343 feet).

Saturday 19th January 1901: They ascend Panza the central summit of Ixtacihuatl.

Thursday 24th January 1901: They walk to the snowy summit of Cabeza (16,883 feet).

Monday 28th January 1901: They climb Panza from a different route – the North ridge. They then travel by train to Guadalajara and then a further two days travelling to Zapotlan. From Zapotlan they travelled three more days to the base of Nevado de Colima where they camped.

Sunday 3rd March 1901: They climb the twin peaks of Nevado de Colima, first the north east summit (14,039 feet) and then the south west summit (14,239 feet). They then marched for two days to reach the Volcan di Colima (14,206 feet).

Thursday 7th March 1901: The volcano erupted when they were twelve miles from their destination so they camped on a ridge north of the volcano and climbed the neighbouring mountain. After a week in camp and no end to the eruptions they began to climb the peak but had to give up as the hot ash was burning the soles of their shoes.

Wednesday 3rd April 1901: Oscar and Aleister set off from Mexico City and arrived in Chalchicomula with the intention of climbing Citlaltepetl (Pico de Orizaba) in Veracruz on the Gulf of Mexico (18,491 feet). They had to abandon the climb due to five days of travel disturbance due to saint’s day celebrations. They travelled from Mexico City to Toluca then on to Calimaya, near the inactive volcano of Nevado de Toluca (15,354 feet) where they camped.

Wednesday 10th April 1901: They climb Pico del Fraile (the Friar’s Peak).

Thursday 11th April 1901: Crowley climbed El Espinazo del Diablo (the Devil’s Backbone) alone as Oscar was sick.

Wednesday 17th April 1901: Oscar and Aleister’s final climb in Mexico is Popocatepetl (17,802 feet). For this they took with them the newspaper writer Finley Peter Dunne (1867-1936) who wrote under the name ‘Mr Dooley’.

Saturday 20th April 1901: Oscar left Mexico bound for England.

Friday 23rd August 1901: Crowley writes to Oscar placing £500 at his disposal to organise an expedition they had planned together.

Friday 20th September 1901: Oscar writes to Crowley informing him of the progress of the expedition details so far. Crowley sends him another £500.

Saturday 12th October 1901: On Crowley’s twenty-sixth birthday he signed the agreement in Kandy to climb Mount Godwin Austen also known as K2 and Chogo Ri and Dapsang, the second highest mountain in the world at 28,251 feet. (see Confessions p. 278)

 

Sunday 23rd March 1902: Crowley boards the train at Calcutta bound for Rawalpindi where he will meet Oscar and the other climbers but Oscar and the other climbers are already on the same train so they meet and introduce themselves: Guy Knowles (1879-1959), Dr. Heinrich Pfannl (1870-1929), Dr. Jules Jacot-Guillarmod (1868-1925) and Dr. Victor Wessely (born c. 1870) Monday 24th March 1902: They left the train at Rawalpindi and were held up by non arrival of their luggage. They set up their tents outside the Lime Tree Hotel.

Saturday 29th March 1902: The group departs from Rawalpindi and spends the night in Tret.

Sunday 30th March 1902: Oscar is detained by officials for over three weeks and not allowed to enter Kashmir. Crowley leads the expedition in his absence and they march to Srinagar towards the mountain. Oscar is accused of being a spy so he travels to Delhi to speak with officials and he is allowed to travel into Kashmir.

Tuesday 22nd April 1902: Oscar catches up with the expedition at Srinagar.

Monday 28th April 1902: The team proceeds northwards toward the Karakorams.

Wednesday 14th May 1902: After travelling for seventeen days they arrive at Skardu, the capital of Baltistan.

Thursday 5th June 1902: Ten days after arriving in Askole the expedition proceeds in four teams.

Friday 16th June 1902: Crowley and his team reach the Baltoro Glacier, seventy-nine days after setting off.

Tuesday 27th June 1902: Eckenstein is ill when he and his team enter camp. He is also ill for the next two days.

12th July 1902: Oscar is ill and also the following day. He recovers by 15th July.

18th July 1902: Oscar is very ill with bronchial asthma but recovers the following day.

23rd July 1902: Oscar and Crowley rescue a coolie from a crevasse (see confessions p. 323-324)

Sunday 3rd August 1902: The climbers tear down Camp 11.

Monday 4th August 1902: They begin to descend.

Monday 1st September 1902: They arrive in Gurais.

Saturday 6th September 1902: The climbers are in Srinagar and the expedition ends one-hundred and thirty-two days after it began. They had stayed on the glacier for 68 days at an altitude of 20,000 feet.

 

1904: Oscar and Guy Knowles climb Saas Fee and Zermatt, Monte Rosa and Weisshorn.

 

May 1905: Crowley asks Eckenstein to join him on his Kangchenjunga expedition with Jacot-Guillarmod, but Eckenstein declines thinking it foolhardy.

 

Wednesday 11th July 1906: Oscar’s first ascent of Mont Brouiilard with Karl Blodig and A. Brocherel. Oscar continues climbing till about 1912 when he is fifty-three.

 

1908: Oscar re-designs the crampon and invented the short ice-axe.

 

Wednesday 6th February 1918: Oscar married Margery Edwards in Hampstead. They have no children and they live in Oving, North West of Aylesbury.

 

Friday 8th April 1921: Oscar dies of consumption.

 

Spring 1922: Margery C. Eckenstein (nee Edwards) re-marries in Aylesbury to Albert H. Cleaver.

 

 

LIBER STELLÆ RUBEÆ

A SECRET RITUAL OF APEP, THE HEART OF IAO-OAI, DELIVERED UNTO V.V.V.V.V. FOR HIS USE IN A CERTAIN MATTER OF LIBER LEGIS, AND WRITTEN DOWN UNDER THE FIGURE LXVI

1. Apep deifieth Asar.
2. Let excellent virgins evoke rejoicing, son of Night!
3. This is the book of the most secret cult of the Ruby Star. It shall be given to none, save to the shameless in deed as in word.
4. No man shall understand this writing—it is too subtle for the sons of men.
5. If the Ruby Star have shed its blood upon thee; if in the season of the moon thou hast invoked by the Iod and the Pe, then mayest thou partake of this most secret sacrament.
6. One shall instruct another, with no care for the matters of men’s thought.
7. There shall be a fair altar in the midst, extended upon a black stone.
8. At the head of the altar gold, and twin images in green of the Master.
9. In the midst a cup of green wine.
10. At the foot the Star of Ruby.
11. The altar shall be entirely bare.
12. First, the ritual of the Flaming Star.
13. Next, the ritual of the Seal.
14. Next, the infernal adorations of OAI.

Mu pa telai,
Tu wa melai
ā, ā, ā.
Tu fu tulu!
Tu fu tulu
Pa, Sa, Ga.

Qwi Mu telai
Ya Pu melai;
ū, ū, ū.
‘Se gum alai;
Pe fu telai,
Fu tu lu.

O chi balae
Wa pa malae: -
Ūt! Ūt! Ūt!
Ge; fu latria,
Le fu malai
Kūt! Hūt! Nūt!

Al ŌĀĪ
Rel moai
Ti – Ti – Ti!
Wa la pelai
Tu fu latai
Wi, Ni, Bi.

15. Also thou shalt excite the wheels with the five wounds and the five wounds.
16. Then thou shalt excite the wheels with the two and the third in the midst; even ♄ and ♃, ☉ and ☽, ♂ and ♀, and ☿.
17. Then the five—and the sixth.
18. Also the altar shall fume before the master with incense that hath no smoke.
19. That which is to be denied shall be denied; that which is to be trampled shall be trampled; that which is to be spat upon shall be spat upon.
20. These things shall be burnt in the outer fire.
21. Then again the master shall speak as he will soft words, and with music and what else he will bring forward the Victim.
22. Also he shall slay a young child upon the altar, and the blood shall cover the altar with perfume as of roses.
23. Then shall the master appear as He should appear—in His glory.
24. He shall stretch himself upon the altar, and awake it into life, and into death.
25. (For so we conceal that life which is beyond.)
26. The temple shall be darkened, save for the fire and the lamp of the altar.
27. There shall he kindle a great fire and a devouring.
28. Also he shall smite the altar with his scourge, and blood shall flow therefrom.
29. Also he shall have made roses bloom thereon.
30. In the end he shall offer up the Vast Sacrifice, at the moment when the God licks up the flame upon the altar.
31. All these things shalt thou perform strictly, observing the time.
32. And the Beloved shall abide with Thee.
33. Thou shalt not disclose the interior world of this rite unto any one: therefore have I written it in symbols that cannot be understood.
34. I who reveal the ritual am IAO and OAI; the Right and the Averse.
35. These are alike unto me.
36. Now the Veil of this operation is called Shame, and the Glory abideth within.
37. Thou shalt comfort the heart of the secret stone with the warm blood. Thou shalt make a subtle decoction of delight, and the Watchers shall drink thereof.
38. I, Apep the Serpent, am the heart of IAO. Isis shall await Asar, and I in the midst.
39. Also the Priestess shall seek another altar, and perform my ceremonies thereon.
40. There shall be no hymn nor dithyramb in my praise and the praise of the rite, seeing that it is utterly beyond.
41. Thou shalt assure thyself of the stability of the altar.
42. In this rite thou shalt be alone.
43. I will give thee another ceremony whereby many shall rejoice.
44. Before all let the Oath be taken firmly as thou raisest up the altar from the black earth.
45. In the words that Thou knowest.
46. For I also swear unto thee by my body and soul that shall never be parted in sunder that I dwell within thee coiled and ready to spring.
47. I will give thee the kingdoms of the earth, O thou Who hast mastered the kingdoms of the East and of the West.
48. I am Apep, O thou slain One. Thou shalt slay thyself upon mine altar: I will have thy blood to drink.
49. For I am a mighty vampire, and my children shall suck up the wine of the earth which is blood.
50. Thou shalt replenish thy veins from the chalice of heaven.
51. Thou shalt be secret, a fear to the world.
52. Thou shalt be exalted, and none shall see thee; exalted, and none shall suspect thee.
53. For there are two glories diverse, and thou who hast won the first shalt enjoy the second.
54. I leap with joy within thee; my head is arisen to strike.
55. O the lust, the sheer rapture, of the life of the snake in the spine!
56. Mightier than God or man, I am in them, and pervade them.
57. Follow out these my words.
58. Fear nothing. Fear nothing. Fear nothing.
59. For I am nothing, and me thou shalt fear, O my virgin, my prophet within whose bowels I rejoice.
60. Thou shalt fear with the fear of love: I will overcome thee.
61. Thou shalt be very nigh to death.
62. But I will overcome thee; the New Life shall illumine thee with the Light that is beyond the Stars.
63. Thinkest thou? I, the force that have created all, am not to be despised.
64. And I will slay thee in my lust.
65. Thou shalt scream with the joy and the pain and the fear and the love—so that the ΛΟΓΟΣ of a new God leaps out among the Stars.
66. There shall be no sound heard but this thy lion-roar of rapture; yea, this thy lion-roar of rapture.

THE QABALAH: AN INTRODUCTION

By AUDRAREP

 

PART III

QABALAH FOR QUIESCENT QUACKS UPON THE QUEST QLIPHOTHIC

 

The Middle Pillar Exercise is a technique which shows, through analysis, the basis of most Qabalistic magic. The Macrocosmic Tree of Life is represented within the human body as a Microcosmic Tree of Life. The central axis from top to bottom is the Middle Pillar and the spheres on this pillar coincide with the top of the head which is Kether; the throat which is Daath; the solar plexus for Tiphereth; the genitals for Yesod and the feet which are Malkuth. These spheres also have a close relationship with the charkas which can be seen in systems of yoga:

Muadhara Chakra – Malkuth

Swadisthana Chakra – Yesod

Manipura Chakra and Anahata Chakra – Tiphereth

Visuddhi Chakra and Ajna Chakra – Daath

Sahasrara Chakra – Kether

The Middle Pillar Exercise aims to circulate the force within the aura, visualising it and charging it for specific ends.

Correspondences

We can utilise the various colours and correspondences to achieve these ends. If we look at Kether we can see the colour is brilliant radiance; the God-name is Eheieh (pronounced Eh-hey-eh) and its characteristics are omniscience, omnipotence, perfection and creative power. We must now visualise the brilliant radiance as a sphere above the head and then pronounce the God-name with as much vibration as possible; in doing this imagine the sphere above your head pulsating and vibrant with energy at the power of the God-name. Look inside the sphere and see the whole universe within also pulsating at the name. Kether is a living sphere, a part of your self which you are directing energy towards. Once this is achieved you move to the next sphere below by shooting from Kether a brilliant white chord of light which enters Daath (throat) and awakens it with energy. In the same manner as before we use the colour grey and the God-name Jehova Elohim which is compounded from the God-names of Geburah and Binah and pronounced Yeh-ho-voh-El-Lo-heem.
Then we turn to Tiphereth (solar plexus) with the colour yellow and the God-name Jehova Eloah va Daath pronounced Yeh-hove-vah El-oh vay Daas. Next is Yesod (genitals) with the colour violet-blue and the God-name Shaddai el Chai pronounced Shardie el kee and then Malkuth (feet) with its colour olive-black and God-name Adonai ha Aretz pronounced Ardonay ha aretz. Eventually this will become familiar to you and you will feel the definite forces attached to each Chakra as it vibrates with energy.

By using breathing techniques with visualisation we can circulate the force from the charkas within the aura. Firstly, visualise the aura around the body, usually egg-shaped and as you exhale, see the brilliant force flowing down the left side of the aura from top to bottom, then up the right side from bottom to top as you inhale. Repeat the exercise several times until it becomes a familiar rhythmic cycle. Next try to visualise the force flowing down the front of the aura from head to toes as you exhale and then up the back of the aura as you inhale; finally, let the force shoot up the body from the feet and up through the head in a column of brilliant light as you exhale. As the light flows from the head let it cascade over the outer aura and as you inhale the light flows down from the hips to the toes. This energy is drawn up through the spine (kundalini). This exercise must be practiced regularly and the visualisation must be focused and strong; every psychic muscle must be expanded and utilised to feel the flow of energy as a tangible force. Once you have become fairly competent in this exercise you can introduce it into your workings, for example, a personal matter in your life requires you to be strong and courageous. First of all you would select the sephira of Geburah, and by using the God-name, colours and other correspondences etc. Once the previous Middle Pillar Exercise is accomplished you can begin using the correspondences in your visualisation technique, intoning the God-name Elohim Gibor and identifying with the strong aspect and qualities of Geburah (the planet Mars etc). In this way a vibration occurs which is sympathetic with the martial force of the macrocosm, drawing that force into the microcosm, in other words, by magical means you are unlocking a portion of the self which for some reason has not developed fully and identifying with the force will (with practice) show real results which can be ‘fine tuned’ to fit with the individual.

Further Reading:

The Kaballah Unveiled – translated by S L McGregor Mathers from the Latin edition ‘Kabbala Denudata’ by Knorr von Rosenroth.
777 and other Qabalistic Writings of Aleister Crowley.
A Garden of Pomegranates – by Israel Regardie.
The Mystical Qabalah – by Dion Fortune.
Ladder of Lights – by William Gray.
Practical Course in Qabalistic Symbolism – by Gareth Knight.
Godwin’s Qabalistic Encyclopedia – by David Godwin.
‘Qabalistic Dogma’ – by Aleister Crowley from The Collected Works Vol I.
A Note on Genesis – by Allan Bennett, see The Equinox Vol I number II.
The Training of the Mind – by Allan Bennett, see The Equinox Vol I number II.
Gematria – by Aleister Crowley, see The Equinox Vol I number V.
Sepher Sephiroth – by Crowley and Bennett, see The Equinox Vol I number VIII.
Introduction to the Study of the Qabalah – by W Westcott.
Zohar: The Book of Splendour – by Gershom Scholem.

TWO POEMS BY DRONA BELL

 

LUCIFER

 

 

Like a sunlit rapier, he stabs

At the old anger, and the shame;

The heat ecstatic, the love-flood exhaust

At the invisible rapture of your touch.

Devil, wrap me in your robe of Light;

Encase me in your world of thought!

Man-God, the ecstasy of words explode

Upon my tongue to speak your name –

Flatterer and feaster of flesh… tonight,

Intoxicate my slain soul and

Languish upon the drum-throb of heart!

Breathless at Beltane,

You slide into silence once again, as

The Light within my being floods

The continuous ache of brotherhood!

Come, Lips are trembling to speak your name

And may the Glory of your Chaos roll

Through the dark wound of my heart, insane

And extend in horror at the dread kiss

Within the circle and the star

Drawn upon my beating breast!

My Lord, how I do aspire…

The satisfaction of the damned!

The Light recoils, this senseless pain:

Thy finger trails penetrate my brain!

A DARK ETERNAL LOVE

 

Dear child, your witch brew hath been distilled

And the clarity of your mind, fulfilled

To course through golden veins that stray –

You have anchored your lust in the lesbian clay!

Your tears – the pearls of the goddess, cast

Upon the ghost of affections past;

There is darkness, a terrible itch

That desires the sweetness of a sweeter bitch.

The soft stroke, the kiss that yields

And leads thee into Florentine fields

Where love’s chasm is closed and shut away –

The bare flesh is tempered to the day.

The heart is bound by Sapphic spells

That leads thee down to lesbian hells –

The mouth is locked upon mouth, and shows

Where woman’s ruinous river flows;

Down and deeper, deep and down –

There shall the death of the soul be shown!

The kiss, the embrace, the love-looks that wake

The hidden goddess in her arms, to take

A beauty plucked, a scent serene,

To die as lovers on love’s silver stream…

And love may always labour mournful

At life’s misshapen and nonsensical dream!

 

 

 

 

HEAT AND DUST

Crowley’s walk across Spain

By AUDRAREP

 

 

Come back across the sea to comfort me

With purple kisses, touches all unplanned!

Let me once more feel thy strong hand to be

Making the magic signs upon me! Stand,

Stand in the light, and let mine eyes drink in

The glorious vision of the death of sin!

[The Romance of Olivia Vane. Stanza VIII]

 

A fascinating yet overlooked period of Crowley’s life is his walk across Spain with his ‘chela’ Victor Benjamin Neuburg (1883-1940). Crowley had become immensely interested in Neuburg who was ‘naturally a magical phenomenon: not a natural magician like Mathers or Allan Bennett or himself [Crowley], but a Medium with the most astounding natural faculty for the reception of psychic or magical communication.’ [Aleister Crowley the Black Magician. C. R. Cammell. 1951. p. 63] Crowley was ‘introduced’ to Neuburg, an undergraduate of Trinity College, Cambridge studying medieval and modern languages through their mutual friend Captain (later Major-General) John Frederick Charles. Fuller (1878-1966). Crowley says in his Confessions:
‘It happened that at the funeral of Saladin, Fuller had met a youth named Neuburg, Victor Benjamin of that ilk, who was at Trinity College, Cambridge, and knew my work. Having to go to Cambridge one day on some business or other, I thought I would look the lad up. I was not sure of the name, and there were several similar "burgs" in the university register, but having drawn my bow at a venture, the first arrow struck the King of Israel between the harness at the very first shot. I use the words "King of Israel" advisedly, for Neuburg was certainly a most distinguished specimen of that race. He was a mass of nervous excitement, having reached the age of twenty-five without learning how to manage his affairs. He had been prevented from doing so, in fact, but all sorts of superstitions about the terrible danger of leading a normal wholesome life. The neuroses thus created had expressed themselves in a very feeble trickle of poetry and a very vehement gust of fads.
He was an agnostic, a vegetarian, a mystic, a Tolstoyan, and several other things all at once. He endeavoured to express his spiritual state by wearing the green star of Esperanto, though he could not speak the language; by refusing to wear a hat, even in London, to wash, and to wear trousers. Whenever addressed, he wriggled convulsively, and his lips, which were three times too large for him, and had been put on hastily as an afterthought, emitted the most extraordinary laugh that had ever come my way; to these advantages he united those of being extraordinarily well read, over flowing with exquisitely subtle humour, and being one of the best natured people that ever trod this planet.
But from the first moment I saw him, I saw far more than this; I read an altogether extraordinary capacity for Magick. We soon drifted into talking about the subject and I found that he already practised a good deal of spiritualism and clairvoyance. The former was his bane. The habit of making himself spiritually passive and inviting the entire spirit world to obsess him proved finally fatal to him. Despite all we could do to protect his aura, we found it impossible to stop the leak altogether, so that at any moment he was liable to become possessed of the devil. He soon learnt how to protect himself as soon as he recognized that he was being attacked; but the spirits became very cunning and were at pains to persuade him not to take the proper measures of protection. I believe, despite all this, that he would have succeeded eventually in mending his aura, but in the principal ordeal of the neophyte he was so seriously damaged that he was never the same man again. During the next few years I saw a great deal of him and his spiritual adventures will serve both as a diversion and warning on many a page to come.’ [The Confessions. p. 562-563]
The ‘funeral of Saladin’; this exotic sounding person was none other than William Stewart Ross (1844-1906) a talented Scots man who became the Editor of the ‘Agnostic Journal’ a weekly publication. Victor Neuburg had contributed poems and correspondence with the Editor, Ross since 1903 and Victor became Sub-Editor of the Agnostic Journal. Fuller was also a friend of Ross and in a letter to Jean Overton Fuller (no relation) in her superb biography of Neuburg ‘The Magical Dilemma of Victor Neuburg’ she quotes a letter from Fuller stating that he ‘first met Victor Neuburg in 1906 at the house of Mr William Stewart Ross in Brixton... At that time Neuburg was an undergraduate at Cambridge, and Crowley, who was also a Cambridge man, was, from time to time, in the habit of visiting the university as he knew some of the undergraduates, I mentioned this to Neuburg... Personally I did not introduce him but indirectly it was through me that he introduced himself.’ [p. 143]
William Stewart Ross died aged 62 in Lambeth, London on Friday 30th November 1906 after being confined to his bed for some years with sclerosis and so the ‘funeral of Saladin’ took place in December at Brookwood Cemetery in Surrey. It is no stretch of the imagination to conclude that Neuburg and Fuller did indeed attend the funeral.
Following Saladin’s death the Sunday 16th December 1906 issue of the Agnostic Journal contained Neuburg’s tribute to him: ‘For me... a light has gone out of life; and there is sadness in my heart when I recollect that I shall never again hold that firm hand in my own, shall never again, in the flesh, see the brave eyes flash their indignation or their humour...’ Despite financial help for Ross’s widow, the Agnostic Journal, without an Editor, closed the following year in June 1907.
The fact that Crowley saw in Neuburg someone with immense natural talent as both a poet and a ‘spiritualist’ medium was enough to secure Crowley’s attention and to attempt to ‘develop’ Victor much closer to the magical and sexual inclinations of Crowley’s thought. Crowley had been in a homosexual relationship with a fellow undergraduate of Cambridge, Herbert Charles Jerome Pollitt (1871-1942) and he had many various experiences with men in other countries during his vacations from Cambridge. Neuburg wishing to adopt the Bohemian spirit of a poet was also drawn to his own sex and no doubt Crowley would have recognised this and seized upon it taking their relationship to another level, that of lovers.
Jean Overton Fuller says that she had ‘no doubt that Victor, having renounced the Judaic Law, had already turned his face towards the Greek, via Swinburne, Whitman and Edward Carpenter. It should not be forgotten that the latter’s classic, The Intermediate Sex, by which Victor was much influenced, appeared in the previous year, 1908, just when his relationship with Crowley was in the making.’ [The Magical Dilemma of Victor Neuburg. p. 150-151]
We know that they had experienced sexual intimacy because Neuburg states it quite plainly yet beautifully in his poem ‘The Romance of Olivia Vane’ from ‘The Triumph of Pan’ published by The Equinox in 1909:

 

Sweet wizard, in whose footsteps I have trod

Unto the shrine of the most obscene god,

So steep the pathway is, I may not know,

Until I reach the summit, where I go.

My love is deathless as the springs of Truth,

My love is pure as is the dawn of youth,

But all my being throbs in rhythm with thine,

Who leadest on to the horizon-line.

[second stanza]

The following passage from Crowley’s Confessions suggests that there were no inhibitions on Neuburg’s side to being naked with Crowley during their walk across Spain:
‘Recognizing the possibilities of Neuburg, I decided to utilize them for the benefit of the Order, and of himself. The first task was to get rid, as far as possible, of his physical defects, which turned out to be very serious. One day during our walk through Spain, we came upon a waterfall, and, the weather being oppressively hot, we decided to take a dip. In this way I discovered that he was suffering from varicocele very badly indeed and as soon as we got to England I sent him to my doctor, who advised an operation, which was duly performed. He had also pyorrhea so badly that my dentist said that if he had delayed the visit three weeks he would not have had a tooth left in his head. Attention to these points, and to the physical cause of his neurosis, made a healthy man of him. One defect remained; and that was incurable, being a slight spinal curvature. The change in him was extraordinary. He lost all his nervousness; he became capable of enduring great physical fatigue, of concentrating mentally, and of dismissing the old fads which had obsessed him. Incidentally, by removing his inhibitions, I released the spring of his genius, and in the next few years he produced some of the finest poetry of which the English language can boast. He had an extraordinary delicacy of rhythm, an unrivalled sense of perception, a purity and intensity of passion second to none, and a remarkable command of the English language.’ [The Confessions. p. 563]
And so Crowley wastes no time at all with Neuburg’s magical training:
‘I had begun to train Neuburg seriously in Magick and mysticism. The first point was, of course, to get rid of any prejudices and superstitions. This was not too difficult, he being a professed agnostic. But the second point was to train him in the technique. This was well enough as far as Magick was concerned, for he naturally possessed the poetic and dramatic instincts, the sense of the fitness of gesture, and so on: and, more important than all, it came natural to him to arouse in himself the right kind of enthusiastic energy in the right way.
In addition, he possessed a peculiar faculty which I have only found in anything like the same degree in one other man in my life. He was a materializing medium in the strictest sense; that is, he could condense ideas into sensible forms. He could not do it at all by himself, because he lacked the power to collect at one point all the available material of the required kind, as may be done by concentrated will, and thereby to create such a state of strain in the atmosphere that the evoked forces must relieve it, if they possibly can, by a change of state. Just so carbon dioxide, if forced into a closed cylinder below the critical temperature, relieves the intolerable pressure by liquefying.’ [The Confessions. p. 587-588] In fact ‘In his presence I found it quite easy to produce phenomenal phantasms of almost any idea, from gods to demons, which I happened to need at the moment.’ [The Confessions. p. 588] He goes on to say in his Confessions [p. 588-589]: ‘The manifestations which Neuburg helped to produce were of an entirely different character; they occurred in conformity with my will. I was able to work more by sight and less by faith than I had ever done before. Even the use of the proper material bases for manifestation, such as the incense of Abra-Melin, Dittany of Crete, and blood, had rarely resulted in more than "half formed faces", partial and hesitating presentations of the desired phantom whose substance seemed to hover on the frontier of the worlds (rather like the Cheshire cat!). The clouds of incense used to grow denser in such wise as rather to suggest a shape than to show one. I could never be sure, even when my physical eyes told me that a form was present, whether my imagination and my desire were not playing tricks with my optical apparatus. Such shapes almost always vanished when I fixed my gaze upon them, and there was no means of saying whether this act, by releasing them from the constraint of my will, had enabled them to escape, or whether intelligent inspection had not simply dissipated an illusion.
With Neuburg, on the contrary, there would be no doubt whatever as to the physical character of the beings which we evoked. On one occasion the god came to us in human form (we were working in a locked temple) and remained with us, perfectly perceptible to all our senses, for the best part of an hour, only vanishing when we were physically exhausted by the ecstasy of intimate contact with his divine person. We sank into a sort of sublime stupor; when we came to ourselves, he was gone.
Again, at Victoria Street, a number of us were dancing round the altar with linked hands and faces turned outwards. The temple was dimly lighted and thick with incense. Somehow the circle broke and we kept on dancing, each for himself. Then we became aware of the presence of a stranger. Some of us counted the men present and found there was one too many. One of the weaker brethren got scared, or one of the stronger brethren remembered his duty to science --- I don't know which --- and switched on the light. No stranger was to be seen. We asked Brother Lucifer --- as I may call him! --- why he had broken the spell and each of us independently confirmed his story. We all agreed about the appearance of the visitor. We had all been impressed with the same feeling that he did not belong to the human species.’
A picture develops of Neuburg from the Confessions and it is not difficult to see why Neuburg remained with Crowley despite the cruel and oftentimes sadistic behaviour of his master.
‘In mysticism he was fatally handicapped by his congenital dislike of discipline, order, punctuality and every moral quality that goes with science. I started him on Yoga about this time. One incident is instructive. His daily hour for practising Asana arrived one day when we were crossing to Europe on the steamer. He refused to do his work; he could not bear to attract the attention of the other people on board and appear ridiculous. (Neuburg! Ridiculous! O all ye gods and little fishes!) I, being responsible for him as his holy guru, performed the practice in his stead. He experienced remorse and shame, which did him good; but several other incidents determined me to impose on him a Vow of Holy Obedience.’ [The Confessions. p. 593]
The walk was important to Crowley because it helped to coalesce and form in his mind the nature of his role upon earth as a teacher of magick:
‘During this walk across Spain, I had much leisure for meditation. I was pledged to do my work in the world, and that meant my becoming a public character and one sure to arouse controversy. I thought out my plan of campaign during this walk. I decided first of all, that the most important point was never to forget that I was a gentleman and keep my honour the more spotless that I was assuming a position whose professors were rarely well born, more rarely well bred, hardly ever sincere, and still less frequently honest even in the most ordinary sense of the word.
It seemed to me that my first duty was to prove to the world that I was not teaching Magick for money. I promised myself always to publish my books on an actual loss on the cost of production --- never to accept a farthing for any form of instruction, giving advice, or any other service whose performance depended on my magical attainments. I regarded myself as having sacrificed my career and my fortune for initiation, and that the reward was so stupendous that it made the price pitifully mean, save that, like the widow's mite, it was all I had. I was therefore the wealthiest man in the world, and the least I could do was to bestow the inestimable treasure upon my poverty-stricken fellow men.
I made it also a point of absolute honour never to commit myself to any statement that I could not prove in the same sense as a chemist can prove the law of combining weights. Not only would I be careful to avoid deceiving people, but I would do all in my power to prevent them deceiving themselves. This meant my declaring war on the spiritualists and even the theosophists, though I agreed with much of Blavatsky's teachings, as uncompromisingly as I had done on Christianity.
I further resolved to uphold the dignity of Magick by pressing into its service science and philosophy, as well as the noblest English that I could command, and to present it in such a form as would of itself command respect and attention. I would do nothing cheap: I would be content with nothing second rate.
I thought it also a point of honesty not to pretend to be "better" than I was. I would avoid concealing my faults and foibles. I would have no one accept me on false pretences. I would not compromise with conventionality; even in cases where as an ordinary man of the world, it would have been natural to do so. In this connection there was also the point that I was anxious to prove that spiritual progress did not depend on religious or moral codes, but was like any other science. Magick would yield its secrets to the infidel and the libertine, just as one does not have to be a churchwarden in order to discover a new kind of orchid. There are, of course, certain virtues necessary to the Magician; but they are of the same order as those which make a successful chemist. Idleness, carelessness, drunkenness; the like interfere with success in any serious business, but sound theology and adherence to the code of Hampstead as against that of Hyderabad are only important if the man's body may suffer if his views are erroneous or his conscience reliable.’ [The Confessions. p. 582-583]
We can now look at Crowley’s and Neuburg’s movements leading up to and during their great walk across Spain:

February 1908: Rose Crowley has completed two months of treatment for her alcoholism at a sanatorium in Leicester. Following this Aleister and Rose take two weeks holiday in Eastbourne staying with Crowley’s mother Emily Bertha Crowley nee Bishop (1848-1917) at her house in Bedford Well Road before Aleister and Rose move into their new home at 21 Warwick Road, Deal, Kent which is taken in Rose’s name. At Eastbourne during February Crowley wrote the five books of ‘The World’s Tragedy’ over five consecutive days.
Wednesday 1st April 1908: Crowley travels from Paris to his home at 21 Warwick Road, Deal in Kent where his wife Rose is residing. Crowley has been living in the Latin Quarter of Paris at 50 Rue Vavin. Crowley spends his time playing golf but he is restless and from Deal he travels on to Moret-sur-Loing, a medieval town in Seine-et-Marne of north, central France, but he is bored there and returns home to 21 Warwick Road. Crowley is at his wits’ end with Rose and her drinking:
‘It was one evening in our house at 21 Warwick Road. Rose and I were sitting in my library on the ground floor in the front of the house. The dining-room and kitchen were in the basement, the whisky being kept in the sideboard. Rose said that she would go and lock up the house, and went downstairs. I put off my slippers and followed stealthily. The stair case was partly illuminated, a shadow being cast diagonally across it. I heard the dining-room door open and began to descend. Rose came quickly back and looked up the stairs; but luckily I was in the shadow and she did not see me. She then went very quickly back into the dining-room, leaving the door open, and I went down the stairs as quickly as possible, hoping to catch her in the act. As I reached the foot, whence I could see into the dining-room, I heard the noise of a door being closed. Rose was standing by the sideboard; but there was no evidence of her act except an empty wet glass. During the few seconds it had taken me to descend the stairs, she had opened the sideboard, uncorked the bottle, poured out and drunk the whisky, and restored everything to its normal condition. It was an act of prestidigitation and nothing else.’ [The Confessions. p. 569]
Sunday 26th April: Rose’s brother Gerald Kelly is visiting 21 Warwick Road: "Gerald at twenty-one. Wonders I didn't put my foot down a year ago. But Rose's tenderness is such, and I love her so dearly." [Crowley’s 1908 diary from The Confessions. p. 570]]
Tuesday 28th April: Crowley leaves 21 Warwick Road and goes to Paris. Later, in May and suffering with a bad throat he travels to Venice and still he is bored!
Sunday 17th May: Crowley writes to his friend John Frederick Charles Fuller from Milan, Italy.
Saturday 23rd May: Crowley is in Paris and he writes to Fuller making quite clear his position as to his wife Rose: ‘I am now a bachelor to all intents and purposes; and what is better, one in the glorious and unassailable position of not being able to marry if I want to!’
 In Paris he occupies himself with Nina Olivier and he also writes ‘The Dream Circean’. He writes again to Fuller from Paris on Monday 8th June.
June-July: Crowley takes his wife Rose to Sandwich in Kent for two weeks but she is constantly drinking and rarely sober. ‘Her doctor told me that she would come to him and beg him, with tears in her eyes and tones of desperate sincerity, to cure her; and all the while she would be drinking under cover of her handkerchief. I took her down to Sandwich for a fortnight in June and July, but there was nothing to be done. One could not even watch her. She would go out in the early hours of the morning and appear at the breakfast table hardly able to speak.’ [The Confessions. p. 573]
Monday 6th July: Crowley writes to Fuller from Sandwich.
Wednesday 8th July: Crowley is in Paris and he is working on ‘Clouds without water’, ‘Sir Palamedes’, ‘The World’s Tragedy’ (preface), ‘Mr Todd’ and ‘After Judgement’. With him is the young poet friend he met at Cambridge two years earlier in 1906, Victor Benjamin Neuburg. They are staying in separate hotels and Crowley has begun training Neuburg as part of his initiation, curing him of what Crowley sees as his failings such as his romantic idealism; ‘his physical health became superb, his nerves stopped playing him tricks, he got rid of all his fads about food, dress and conduct, his genius soared free of all its silly inhibitions, his magical powers developed unhindered by the delusions bred of insisting that nature is what one thinks it ought to be, and his relations with humanity became reasonable.’ [The Confessions. p. 577] Also with Crowley and being used as part of Neuburg’s initiation is Crowley’s lover, the artist’s model ‘Dorothy’ [Euphemia Lamb, born Nina Forest 1889-1957]
During this time Crowley also writes ‘the Soul Hunter’ and ‘Three Poems for Jane Cheron’.
Saturday 18th July: Crowley writes from Paris to his friend Fuller mentioning Nina Olivier and his work ‘Mr Todd’. Crowley writes again to Fuller three days later on Tuesday 21st July to tell him of other literary work in progress.
Crowley feeling the need to get away back to nature and explore some region suggests to Neuburg that they walk across Spain from Bayonne to Madrid, taking two weeks and avoiding the railway line.
Friday 31st July: Crowley and Neuburg leave Paris for Bordeaux.
Saturday 1st August: They travel to Bayonne and in the afternoon they began to walk to the Spanish frontier. That night they reached Ustaritz. They walk for three days across the Pyrenees. They encountered difficulty and much hardship along the way – ‘Three times on the road we were arrested as anarchists. The soldiers could not understand why anyone should want to go to Madrid except to kill Alphonso, and I suppose there is something really to be said for this point of view. They gave us no real annoyance, our passports being as impressive as they were unintelligible. Of course they didn't really think we were anarchists, and they would not have cared if we had been; but most of these unhappy men were marooned for indefinite periods in ghastly districts where there was absolutely no amusement of any kind.’ [The Confessions. p. 577-578]
Saturday 4th August: Crowley and Neuburg arrived in Pamplona after a long day’s walk of 42 km. ‘I was in my climbing clothes, save that I replaced tweed by buckskin breeches, the same pair as I am wearing today. As for Neuburg, I cannot say what he looked like, because when God made him he broke the mould.’ [The Confessions. p. 577]
Wednesday 5th August: they left Pamplona. Crowley writes to Fuller from Pamplona.
Friday 7th August: After three days walking they arrive at Logrono and find a hotel for the night.
Saturday 8th August: Leaving the hotel after dinner they walked in the cool of night approximately 10 km to a cave they called ‘Bat’s Culvert’ where they spent the night.
Sunday 9th August: They left Logrono in the evening and walked to ‘the opening of a magnificent ravine through mighty cliffs of earth’ which they called ‘Jack Straw’s Castle’ and camped for the night. Also during this day Crowley wrote to his friend Fuller saying ‘we’ve done 140 miles of hot, dusty mountain-road in a week, which isn’t bad.’
Monday 10th August: Walking all day they reached a small hamlet in the late evening and ‘it was only by long negotiation and the display of wealth beyond the dreams of avarice, in the shape of a silver dollar, that we persuaded the inhabitants to let us have a cup of goat's milk apiece, a small scrap of dry bread, and a bed in the straw in a horribly dirty barn.’ [The Confessions. p. 579]
Tuesday 11th August: They had completed 150 km from Logrono to Soria and endured a severe thunderstorm in the last few hours of the walk. They spent the night in a hotel.
Wednesday 12th August: Crowley’s fifth wedding anniversary. They decided to avoid the direct line to Madrid and made the decision to walk to Burgo de Osma. They spent the night at a place they called the ‘Witches’ Kitchen Village’ where they lodged in a sinister looking house with sinister looking occupants and Crowley and Neuburg ‘were so doubtful about their intentions that we barricaded ourselves for the night in the main room. There were considerable alarums and excursions; but when they found we meant business they decided to leave us alone and in the morning everyone was all smiles.’ [The Confessions. p. 580]
They had another 44 km to walk without water or shelter. Burgo de Osma was about to celebrate its two day festival and Crowley witnessed a bull fight. They stayed and rested here for two days or possibly longer.
‘Our short spell of rest at Burgo de Osma sufficed me to collect in my mind the numberless conclusions of the very varied trains of thought which had occupied my mind during our fortnight's tramp. They shaped themselves into a conscious purpose. I knew myself to be on the brink of resuming my creative work in a way that I had never yet done. Till now I had written what was given me by the Holy Ghost. Everything I did was sui generis and had no conscious connection with any other outburst of my genius; but I understood that from this time on I should find myself writing with a sense of responsibility, that my work would be coherent, each item (however complete in itself) an essential part of a pyramid, a monument whose orientation and proportions should proclaim my purpose. I should do nothing in future that was not as definitely directed to the execution of my true will as every step through Spain was taken with the object of reaching Madrid; and I reflected that many such steps must seem wasted, many leading away from the beeline, that I did not know the road and had no idea what Madrid would be like when I reached it. All I could do was to take each step steadily, fearlessly, firmly and determinedly, trusting to the scanty information to be gathered from signposts and strangers, to keep more or less on the right road, and to take my chance of being satisfied with the unknown city which I had chosen as my goal with no reason beyond my personal whim.
This I made our march symbolize life. There were other analogies. We had to endure every kind of hardship heartily and to take our fun where we found it without being dainty. We learnt to enjoy every incident, to find something to love in every strange face, to admire even the dreariest wilderness of sunburnt scrub. We knew that nothing really mattered so long as we got to Madrid. The world went on very well without us and its fortunes were none of our business. The only thing that could annoy us was interference with out intention to get to Madrid, though we didn't want to go there except insofar as we had taken it into our heads to set our faces towards it.’ [The Confessions. p. 583]
They marched on to Aranda de Duero and then to Milagros and past many other villages.
50 km from Madrid they passed a range of rocks:
‘The only impressions of this part of the march to Madrid are "Big Stone Bivouac" where we tried to shelter from a bitter wind, sleeping till the cold awoke us, and then trying to warm ourselves by exercise until fatigue sent us once more to sleep. An alternation of discomforts, which was repeated half a dozen times during the night. The memory is delightful. All the unpleasant incidents of the period have passed into oblivion.’ [The Confessions. p. 584]
Crowley has this to say on the subject of money during their walk through Spain:
‘When, nearly 40 years ago, I walked through Spain, accompanied only by a single chela, there was little paper money in use, at least in the rather primitive places which we favoured. The currency was confined to the silver peso, and its fractions. About 90 miles north of Madrid, we found, one fine morning, that our well-meant attempt to pay our bill at the posada threw a bombshell into the works: the people of the Inn jabbered and gesticulated among themselves for about half an hour before they produced our receipt, and bade us Hasta la vista!
Next day, the same thing, rather worse. The day after, worse still; and we saw that they were disputing about the coins that we had handed over. Finally, about 20 miles from Madrid, they wouldn't take our money at all! Instead, the pointed out that we were English gentlemen, and they would be eternally honoured and grateful if we would send the money from Madrid!
On arrival at that city, we noticed long queues of people besieging the Banks; I put my finger to my nose, and said Aha!
But, sitting down at a café, oh no! not at all! Pesos were passing without question. Well, well! So I got into conversation with a knowledgeable-looking bloke, and he told me the whole story. It seemed that the Director of Customs had a brother in Mexico D.F. who manufactured brass bedsteads. The uprights of these were packed with forged pesos of Fernando VII and one other king—I forget his name—made of the same standard silver alloy as the genuine coins, and so well executed that the only way to tell the false was that they looked newer than they should have been, in view of the date! And so (continued my informant) there was a panic, and no one would take any money at all, and the city was dying on its feet! So the Government gave orders to the Banks to change any coins soever for their equivalent in freshly-minted money—that's what those queues are—and "every one is happy again." "But," I objected, "I see you have some old coins."He laughed."Those one-eyed mules at the Banks! All foolishness! Days ago we all agreed to take any money without question—and as long as we all do that, why, nobody's hurt!"’ [Magick without tears. Chapter LIV: On Meanness.]
Crowley’s Confessions says that they reached Madrid ‘on August the second’, but this must surely be a mistake and perhaps it is meant to read ‘August twenty-second’ which would be more accurate, but without the 1908 diary all we can safely know is that on Sunday 2nd August they were still crossing the Pyrenees and a long way from Madrid and it cannot be 2nd September for they left Madrid on 28th August.
They stayed the night in a hotel in Puerto del Sol, Madrid, and Neuburg who had been suffering for some time because he ‘could not stand the rough food and the fatigue and the exposure,’ and so being quite ill he needed to rest. He stays in his bed for 2-3 days Crowley says and probably because of this they gave up the idea of walking to Gibraltar. Crowley spends his time in Madrid visiting the Museo del Prado art galleries. Also in Madrid Crowley finished writing his ‘The Psychology of Hashish’ which would appear as part two of ‘The Herb Dangerous’ [The Equinox. vol I, number II] written under the pseudonym ‘Oliver Haddo’ in reference to the character based on Crowley in W Somerset Maugham’s novel ‘The Magician’.
Friday 28th August: Crowley and Neuburg leave Madrid and walk all day.
Saturday 29th August: They arrive at Granada and Crowley renews his relations with the wild gypsy woman whom he met there the year previously and of whom he wrote his celebrated love song ‘La Gitana’ on 21st July 1907:

 

Your hair was full of roses in the dewfall as we danced,

The sorceress enchanting and the paladin entranced,

In the starlight as we wove us in a web of silk and steel

Immemorial as the marble in the halls of Boabdil,

In the pleasaunce of the roses with the fountains and the yews

Where the snowy Sierra soothed us with the breezes and the dews!

In the starlight as we trembled from a laugh to a caress,

And the God came warm upon us in our pagan allegresse.

Was the Baile del la bona too seductive? Did you feel

Through the silence and the softness all the tension of the steel?

For your hair was full of roses, and my flesh was full of thorns

And the midnight came upon us worth a million crazy morns.

Ah! my Gypsy, my Gitana, my Saliya! were you fain

For the dance to turn to earnest? --- O the sunny land of Spain!

My Gaitana, my Saliya! more delicious than a dove!

With your hair aflame with roses and your lips alight with love!

Shall I see you, shall I kiss you once again? I wander far

From the sunny land of summer to the icy Polar Star.

I shall find you, my Gitana, my Saliya! as of old

With your hair aflame with roses and your body gay with gold.

I shall find you, I shall have you, in the summer and the south

With our passion in your body and our love upon your mouth ---

With our wonder and our worship be the world aflame anew!

My Gitana, my Saliya! I am coming back to you!

Sunday 30th August: They walk to Ronda.
Monday 31st August: They arrived at Gibraltar. ‘It was hot; the Levanter was blowing and taking all the marrow out of one's bones. I was utterly tired: I sat down. I was perceived by a rock scorpion (as they call the natives of the fortress, a detestable and despicable breed, which reminds one quite unreasonably of the Eurasian) who saw a chance to sting somebody. He began by hectoring me and ended by arresting me. When we got to the police station, and the sergeant found that we were staying at the best hotel in the town, and inspected our papers, we received the proper apologies; but I didn't forget that if I hadn't been a privileged person I might have been sent to prison for sitting down when I was tired and ill. This is part of the price we pay for the privilege of paying exorbitant taxes to support a swarm of useless jacks in office.’ [The Confessions. p. 586-587] They stayed at a hotel and later crossed the strait of Gibraltar to Tangiers.
Sunday 13th September: Neuburg left Crowley to visit his relatives in San Sebastian. On the same day Crowley took advantage of the solitude and wrote ‘The Soldier and the Hunchback ! and ?’ [The Equinox. Vol I, number I. 1909] The Confessions gives the date as ‘13th December’ which must be another mistake because we know Crowley had returned to England and then travelled to Paris for his Magical Retirement beginning on 1st October.
‘The conclusion of my meditations was that I ought to make a Magical Retirement as soon as the walk was over. I owed it to myself and to mankind to prove formally that the formulae of initiation would work at will. I could not ask people to experiment with my methods until I had assured myself that they were sufficient. When I looked back on my career, I found it hard to estimate the importance of the part played by such circumstances as solitude and constant communication with nature. I resolved to see whether by application of my methods, purged from all inessentials and understood in the light of common-sense physiology, psychology and anthropology, I could achieve in a place like Paris, within the period of the average man's annual holiday, what ad come as the climax of so many years of adventure. I also felt it proper to fit myself for the task which I had undertaken in publishing The Equinox, by fortifying myself with as much magical force as I might be able to invoke. The result of this resolve will appear in its proper place.’ [The Confessions. p. 583]
Tuesday 15th September: Crowley returns to London.
Wednesday 30th September: He arrives in Paris.
Thursday 1st October 1908: Thus begins Crowley’s Great Magical Retirement which is recorded as ‘John St John’ [The Equinox. Vol I, number I. Supplement. 1909]
It has often been pointed out that the years 1907-1908, although at first glance do not seem to be very significant were in fact fundamental to the course of action in Crowley’s future and theoretically can be seen as a turning point. John Symonds says that 1907 ‘was the year that he “went wrong” – or so he said during the 1920’s in an anxious and melancholy period of his life. I think he meant that in 1907 there was still time for him to turn back. Rose had given birth to another daughter, Lola Zaza. He was thirty-two years of age. His roving, boisterous past could be set aside as the Sturm und Drang period of his life. He had still a chance of settling down and getting on with the business of ordinary living; but he kicked his mother-in-law downstairs instead – she had come to visit rose and the three-weeks-old Lola Zaza who was ill with bronchitis – and strode on, into the Waste Land, praising the immortal Gods.’ [The Great Beast. John Symonds. ‘The Star in the West’. p. 122]
Could Crowley have done more to assist his wife Rose if he had not the urge to roam on his adventures? Could he perhaps have ‘settled down’ to an ordinary yet literary life and remained financially comfortable? We cannot say for sure, Crowley is such a colossal figure that it would be unwise to judge him by ordinary standards and the vast expansion of his mind beyond the horizon and the willingness to push himself beyond all physical endurance and limitations speaks volumes about his enigmatic ‘presence’ in the world, but one thing we do know is that whether or not he chose to ignore the Great Work and his responsibility as shown in the Book of the Law, Neuburg would prove to be yet another of the many acolytes upon the path that would distract him but eventually, as in the case of Neuburg in the year 1909 at Boleskine House, Scotland, achieve his role in the magical chain that would lead Crowley once again to Liber Al vel Legis.
I fully believe Neuburg, the sensitive poet, genuinely loved Crowley and did so to his dying day, yet he also feared the sadistic and cruel appetite that dwelt within Crowley which also had to be satisfied. The attentions of the Great Beast would have surely initially flattered Neuburg and their ‘forbidden’ lust would have ascended to the Glory of the Divine and be driven to the dissolution of the Damned and the young, entranced Victor would have reeled in the magnetic sexual force that Crowley wielded. Perhaps Crowley saw Victor as nothing more than an excuse to occupy himself with during all the trouble with Rose for it is hard to believe there was any great affection for Victor beyond the manly respect of a guru for his ‘chela’; Victor was necessary to Crowley with his mediumistic ability and at their parting Aleister missed having Neuburg’s evocational power at his elbow!
If 1907 was the year that ‘went wrong’ then 1908 can be seen as a specific ‘book-mark’ between the chapters of his life which delivered the Book of the Law unto mankind; his Kanchenjung expedition and the walk across China during his Augoeides Invocations, and 1909 with the re-discovery of Liber Al vel Legis; the publication of The Equinox; the divorce of his wife Rose and the Enochian Calls performed with Neuburg in The Vision and the Voice. It was a year of condensing in his mind the effectiveness of a workable system of magick – in theory and practice!



Crowley and Neuburg's route through Spain

 

 



AN EPISTLE UPON THE SORDID DUTY OF MARRIAGE

By Barry Van-Asten

Young lovers, for love maketh the heart young – the time is 1868, but of course it could be any time, for love is timeless; the place: Much Piddlin’ in the Po, a rural village in the heart of love-struck Derbyshire. There is a young couple, a man and a woman*, newly blessed by the union of marriage.
The moon, in its second quarter is upon them on this beautiful summer’s night. They appear to be the offspring of aristocratic families judging from their elegant attire and she gazes deep into his eyes while sweet words of love are surely being sung, for tears are filling the young lady’s eyes… Let us draw aside the curtain and drift gently upon their colloquy!

Gentleman: ‘Madam! I see you have been blessed by the good Lord and all His angelic minions by the miracle of manhood sprouting firm upon thine lantern jaw; ‘tis a fine bush madam of prime manly beard, so thick that one can mislay one’s spoon in it!’

Lady: ‘Sir! your impertinence goes far beyond the current scope of recognisable humour, and like your wardrobe, is outrageous and surely a blasphemy upon nature sir, for whomsoever informed you that the wearing of lady’s under-appendages upon the male personage was sartorially correct and ‘in’ is most assuredly ‘out’ and under some misconception and probably mad sir! Yet, I must heartily congratulate your tailor on such a pompous display of foppery! Tell me, is it usual for (I hasten to add) a “gentleman” [cough] and a young man about town, with the means of enjoying that fair location, to traverse it sir, in women’s clothing? It is a wonder sir, that you do not await the cover of darkness to parade your parasitic and portly dis-proportions!’

Interesting! – a scene of some discontent – let us wait a while to see this hell-broth soothed to milk and honey!

Gentleman: ‘I am acquainted with such ancient notions of correctness, especially amongst the peasant classes, of which you preside over madam, and as a gentleman of fair physiognomy, with passions for your elegant sex, and might I add, my own, that it is of no consequence to you or to your butcher, for that matter, if I should indulge my strange and curious passions by cushioning them in soft, silken coverings from Paris, and all original! But madam, to look at you, my heart sinks, for one would be at a perpetual loss and disagreement to find where “Lady” begins and “corsetry” ends in one so blessed and endowed with more than your fair share of fleshly requisites, the kind often viewed in zoological departments!’

Lady: ‘A lady’s underwear sir is the very bolt upon society! Unlock it, and you shall find the horse, well and truly, in its stable sir!’

Gentleman: ‘Quite so, but may I remind you that all this fruitery is bad cosmetic on an old corpse; it is a vain endeavour, for one cannot disguise an old man o’ war frigate in trying to beautify its tired appearance with paint and bad lighting. Repent of your ways, so say I madam, and come clean, if bathing were permitted to such flagrant mud-wallowers; put an end to this vulgar display of fruitification and return madam, to that dull, drab and dreary, plain old affair that comes so naturally to your good [cough] self!’

Lady: ‘Sir! you are impertinent and what is more you are exceedingly ugly! In fact, a more prattish oaf has it seldom ever been my misfortune to behold! Restrain yourself sir, for you are on a precarious precipice of becoming a positive pot-pouri of pomposity!’

‘Tis a brief upset, a minor quarrel – let us linger a while longer to see its turnaround!

Gentleman: ‘Methinks thou hast been too long sniffing around the cellar door, for thou wearest the cologne of mould and mushroom madam! Surely, thou art a miracle of inelegance and your sartorial propriety [cough] leaves a lot to be desired. And so may I remind you, that cabbages are for digesting, cooked, I might add, and not for the wearing thereof!’

Lady: ‘’Tis better sir, to resemble the cabbage than to smell of the devilish brassica!’

Gentleman: ‘Come, come madam, you do yourself an injustice, for you excel in the one just as heartily as you excel in the other, and to separate the two I fear, would be as difficult a task as prizing the porkiest of piggy from its mud… or the corpse from its coffin…’

Lady: ‘Coxcomb!’

Gentleman: ‘Strumpet!’

Lady: ‘Dandy!’

Gentleman: ‘Banshee!’

Lady: ‘Spaniel handler!’

Gentleman: ‘What does that even mean madam?’

Let us away before harsher things than words are thrown!

Ad nauseam for a further forty years or until death secures one of them an early release!

I fear we must retreat and leave this scene of sorrow; let the curtain fall upon this tragedy; upon this accursed spot and swallow up this stain upon the majesty of love!

*The author here wishes to add that other varieties of ‘couples’ and combinations thereof are available!

 

TWO GODS AM I

 

This body, touched by ancient fear

As the dew-hand left the grass;

The ache of antiquity, still was here,

For sighing souls of old, who pass;

 

Pass, as wine of Gods, that’s poured

With nature’s gifts, so terrible;

By opal streams and beasts abroad,

Flow sweetly, warm and full…

 

Quick, by the fading sun, I go,

Two Gods, two hearts, two brains in bloom;

Sealed by seduction, sleep shall show

Two Gods tormented in the tomb!

Barry Van-Asten

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE WAND OF SILENCE
Excerpts from the Magickal Diaries

OF AUDRAREP

PART TEN

 

Sunday 6th January 2002. Constant distraction from Soror Lylan (concerning the Ritual), whose mind has become unbalanced. 5-5.30 p.m. – Invocation of Παν. I used Crowley’s ‘Tanhauser’.
Saturday 19th January. I received the sign of the Hexagram while with Lylan. She is still fixated with________. Later, the tension became unbearable – the trinity was overpowering and I was doing my will. There was almost murder between us – as if Lucifer had taken possession!
Sunday 20th January. I told Lylan about my visionary dream concerning her upon an altar marked with three crosses, one over each eye and another across her torso. The eyes were blood red and the crosses were cut deep. She had male figures about her in white robe-like clothing. She was dead! Though maybe she was in hospital and those around her were doctors. Lylan was very disturbed by this dream and so was I. I had the strangest sensation when I went out alone, as if I was ‘marked’. Lylan went to take a bath and I went to show her how to lock the door. She pulled the door to my room to and it shut and it locked as if a gust of air blew it – for some reason, I picked up my keys about 20 minutes earlier and put them in my pocket, something I never do as I keep them on the table.  After she went the tension in the room lessened. Lylan called me at 5.15 p.m. from a pub in ________ waiting for her bus which comes at 6.05 p.m. She was in a terrible state. She told me that Abramelin demons are coming for me and nothing can be done about it now. I think she is beyond help! I had no fear but she was quite abusive and kept talking about my visionary dream. I did not tell her all the facts!
Monday 21st January. Lylan called at 05.30 a.m. in some distress. Later she left a message on my phone. She was in tears and wants me to put her mind at rest concerning the dream etc. Later still, another message in which she was laughing like a lunatic! I phoned Lylan at 7 p.m. and managed to calm her down. We decided we would not come into contact with each other again as our forces are too great.
Tuesday 22nd January. Lylan called at 6.40 p.m. and there is still a strong presence of ______ she said. She thinks I did not banish correctly.
Friday 25th January. Lylan called at 9.pm. and I called her back at 9.50 p.m. She still believes that she is the ‘Gatekeeper’ for Abramelin etc at Boleskine House.

Sunday 17th February. At 5.15 p.m. I robed and lit the opium incense. I constructed an altar and upon it placed the image of the Beast in the sign of Pan. The Cup and the Sword within. An Abramelin Operation concerning the talisman or square LXXI. I received the repetitive words: ‘It is done!’ the image of Crowley was distorted being one moment male then the next female at intervals and merging. He grimaced and a flash of green light appeared upon the blade of my sword which I held before me. The green light remained. The solar current was overwhelming and directed towards  the magical Cup. The ceremony ended at 5.45 p.m. Lylan called me at 9.35 p.m. about the ritual and I told her that ‘It is done!’ She called me again at 03.00 a.m. I received a vision on being led into the white brilliance of Heaven!
Saturday 16th March. I had an insight concerning the vision of Sunday 20th January – It wasn’t a sacrifice but a ‘magical marriage’ concerning Crowley – The Bride and the Beast – ‘It is done!’

Sunday 17th March. Lylan called and we talked about the new revelation of the vision and we went through some ‘Bornless Ritual’ together.
Saturday 23rd March. ‘A Magick Life’ biography by Martin Booth. I purchased a knife with a wooden handle to consecrate for ritual purposes – Incense: Rose, Musk, Amber, Patchouli, Sandalwood.
Sunday 31st March. The Consecration of the Wand, Dagger and the Incense. I prepared the circle and the altar. Lustration. I robed myself and entered the circle at 3.30 p.m. I performed the Banishing Rituals of the Pentagram and the Hexagram.

1. Consecrated the incense. I then lit the candle and the incense.
2. Consecration of the dagger.
3. Consecration of the wand.
4. ‘Enflame thyself in prayer’.

I recited the ‘Hymn to Pan’ and at its culmination I partook of the sacrament from the Holy vessel. I became drunk on the wine of Pan [the sword fell from the altar three times]. Music was used throughout the ceremony – Bach, Beethoven and Schubert.

I ended with the Closing ceremony of the Pentagram and the Hexagram and the circle was destroyed at 4.15 p.m.
Monday 1st April. The Adorations.
Saturday 6th April. 777 – Gematria.
Monday 8th April. Holy Day – Liber Legis.
Tuesday 9th April. Holy Day – Liber legis. 777.
Wednesday 10th April. Holy Day – Liber Legis. 777.
Saturday 13th April. I constructed an altar.
Upon the altar were:

1. The Ritual text – The Equinox.
2. The Dagger (upright).
3. The Wand (upright).
4. The Sword.
5. Purified Water.
6. Candle and candle holder.
7. The Holy Oil.
8. The Incense (Opium).
9. The Cup.
10. &11. The Cakes of Light.
12. The Magical Ring.
13. Liber Al vel Legis.
14. Image of the Beast in the sign of Pan.

The ritual began at 4.30 p.m. No circle was drawn. I robed after the lustration. Lit the incense and I was hooded for the opening of the ceremony. I placed the Ring upon the little finger of the right hand. I performed the Lesser Banishing Rituals of the Pentagram and the Hexagram and recited the ‘Hymn to Pan’ during a mystic dance. Consecration of the cakes with purified water and incense. I performed the Mass of the Phoenix Ritual. I consumed the second cake. I then removed the hood and performed the Star Ruby Ritual. I read the intro to the Bornless Ritual and read the three chapters of Liber Al vel Legis. I then consumed the first cake that had absorbed the incense. The solar current was released unto our Lady of the Stars and the Ritual ended at 5.50 p.m.
Thursday 9th May. For some weeks now I have felt I have achieved the tasks of a Neophyte, and I am ready to accept the next grade.
Saturday 11th May. 8.00 p.m. pendulum reading. The Ritual will take place tomorrow the pendulum says; it is desirable and I have passed the grade of Neophyte.
Sunday 12th May. I worked on the Ritual and prepared myself at 4.30 p.m. 5.00 p.m. skyclad at the Great Altar. I lit the incense – Frankincense. I made my declaration. Liber Israfel. The Bornless Ritual. I took the oath of the Zelator and there followed an operation concerning the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage.
Saturday 29th June. Magick is really returning on me! I sort of knew it would; I waited for it and tried to deny it! Painful! Like dying! This is all re the Abramelin working of Sunday 12th May. ‘Not done yet!’
Sunday 21st July. 5.00 p.m. – 46 ‘Nothing is a secret key of this law. Sixty-one the Jews call it; I call it eight, eighty, four hundred and eighteen’. 47. ‘But they have the half: unite by thine art so that all disappear’. 61+61=122 (they have the half = 61) [see notes on Gematria of 122 in Records].
Saturday 27th July. The death of someone very close to me!
Saturday 3rd August. Soror Lylan called in some distress – she needs my help!
Wednesday 7th August. I agreed to go to Lylan’s aid.
Friday 9th August. I went to C______ to help Lylan. There was almost murder between us and she locked me in the kitchen (a blessing for both our sakes!)
Sunday 11th August. She had no desire to let me return home but I escaped  the evil intentions of Lylan!

THE KEDEMEL WORKING

An evocation of Kedemel The Spirit of Venus

Friday 23rd August 2002 e.v. Xcvii An.

 

PROLOGUE

The ceremony consists of seven parts:

1. The Banishings and Consecrations.
2. The Preliminary Invocation.
3. The Proclamation.
4. The particular invocations to the forces of Venus.
5. Assumption of forces invoked.
6. The magical link.
7. The closing ceremony.

 

Gloria Deo Altissimo Ra Hoor Khuit In nomine Abrahadabra et in hoc signo.

I prepared the Great Altar with the appropriate seals and squares etc. Colour – Green. Incense – Rose and Red Sandalwood. Weapon – The Lamp. No circle was drawn and no triangle was drawn. God – YHVH Tzabaoth. Archangel – Hanael. Intelligence – Hagiel. Spirit – Kedemel. Robed and hoodwinked. I wore the sacred pendant.

1. The Banishing Rituals, extended unto all the quarters of the Temple [Pentagram and Hexagram]. The sword was then replaced on the altar.

‘Asperge eum Domine hyssop et mundabitur; Lavabis eum et super nivem dealbabitur.’ ‘By the figurative mystery of these holy vestures of concealment, doth the Lord cloak me in the Shroud of Mystery in the strength of the Most High Ancor Amacor Amides Theodonias Anitor that my desired end may be effected through thy strength, Adonai, unto whom be the Glory in Saecula Saeculorum Amen.’

‘Hail unto Thee, Ra Hoor Khuit, who art the Lord of the Aeon!
Be this consecrated sword
Not abhorred before the Lord!
A guard of steel, a tongue of flame
Writing in adamant His Name!
Puissant against the Hosts of Evil!
A mighty fence against the Devil!
A snake if lightening to destroy
Them that work mischief and Annoy!
Arm me, arm me, in the fray
That shall be fought this dreadful day!’

‘Hail unto Thee, Ra Hoor Khuit, who art the Lord of the Aeon!
Be this consecrated Altar
A sign of sure stability!
Will and Courage never falter,
Thought dissolve in Deity!
Let thy smile divinely curving,
Isis, bless our dark device!
Holy Hawk, my deed unswerving
Be thy favoured sacrifice!
Holy Khem, my vigour nerving,
I have paid the priestly price.
Hail, Ra Hoor, thy ray forth-rolling
Consecrate the instruments,
Thine Almighty power controlling
To the Event the day’s events!’

‘Arm me, arm me, in the fray
That shall be fought this dreadful day!’

Consecrations: Incense and purified water.

‘So when all the phantoms are vanished, and through the universe darts and flashes that holy and formless Fire – Hear Thou the Voice of Fire!’

‘The Lord is my fortress and my deliverer; my God in whom I will trust. I will walk upon the Lion and adder; the young lion and the scorpion will I tread under my feet. Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he hath known My Name.’

2. The Preliminary Invocations.

‘Arise, Dog of Evil, that I may instruct thee in thy present duties’. Etc.

3. Proclamation. ‘I _______________, a zelator of ____ swear unto Thee, O Lord God, by thine own Almighty power, by Thy force and fire, by Thy glittering Hawk’s eye and Thy mighty sweeping wings; that I do utterly devote myself, mind, body, and estate, at all times and in all places soever to the establishment of Thy holy kingdom’.

...........

‘And this my purpose is threefold: Firstly that my will shall be strong, even as a fortress is strong, to keep from me all evil and malevolent influences.
Secondly, that I shall attain the beauty and love of Venus and the will to comprehend and rejoice in love.

And finally, that I may obtain the services of Kedemel, that he may be obedient unto me, thy servant, that between him and me there may be peace, and that he may always be ready to come whensoever he is invoked and called forth. And that I shall command and compel the affections of one _____________’. Etc.

 

‘I adore thee in the song:

I am the Lord of Thebes, and I

The inspired forth-speaker of Mentu;’ etc

4. The particular invocations of the forces of Venus.

‘Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail!

Send forth a spark of thine illimitable light and force, I beseech Thee, that it may appear in the Heaven of Venus as the God YHVH Tzabaoth.

O winged glory of gold!’ etc

[As a preliminary to the particular Invocations, The Greater Ritual of the Hexagram was used]

5. The Assumption of the Goddess Venus. From the dark robe, as if new-born,  emerged  the painted Venus – Isis Rejoicing.

Symbolic representation of the magician, i.e. robe and hoodwink, lay upon a scarlet altar cloth and Venus danced a magical dance, with boundless energy, vibrant and lustful.

6. The Magical Link. The magical link was placed in the Cup and the solar charge was directed towards it. The commands were issued unto kedemel. The magical link was sealed up between the Obverse and the Reverse of the Seal of Venus and thus bound to it.

7. The Licence to depart.

The Banishing Rituals of the Greater Hexagram, the Lesser Pentagram and the Lesser Hexagram. The closing of the Temple at 11.00 p.m.

Sunday 25th August. I prepared a Goetic working – Gomory! I made the seals etc. The time of the operation: 8 p.m. (hour of the sun) and 9 p.m. (hour of Venus). I decided against it and went out! Re-scheduled for Friday 30th August (7 p.m. hour of the Sun and 8 p.m. hour of Venus).
Wednesday 28th August. An Abramelin Working – 12.30 p.m. [x, 1 and xx, 1] (the Goetic working was re-scheduled once again for Sunday 8th September).
Sunday 8th September. Preparations began for a Goetic working during the hour of the sun at 1.24 p.m. A piece of virgin paper was used to draw the sigil of Gomory. I consecrated the circle and the triangle (according to the Goetia) and placed the magical instruments of art within the circle. The cup was filled with wine.
During the hour of Venus at 2.24 p.m.: Lustration (the versicle of David – ‘Thou shalt purge me with hyssop’ etc). I robed using the prayer at vesting – ‘By the figurative mystery of this holy vestment’ etc.
The lighting of the incense (frankincense). The seals, sigil of the spirit etc worn on the robe.

 

 

In the triangle was the seal of Gomory on virgin paper and various magical links to the desired working. Prayers and blessings within the circle; fumigation etc and the exorcising of the instruments. Also prepared was a smaller seal of Gomory in the event of cursing.

First conjuration [x2]
Second conjuration [x2]
Third conjuration [x2]
The Invocation of the King [x2]
First conjuration [x1]
The chain curse, using the sigil.

The curse of the spirit who obeyest not my commands.
The commands are given, concerning that which shall not be told. Licence to depart.
The ceremony ended at 3.10 p.m. and the circle and the triangle were destroyed.
Sunday 22nd September. I divined the word of the Equinox – Liber AL: ‘FORCE’ [AL. III. 17] 6+70+200+8+5= 289
289 is a perfect square [172]

17 is also the verse number in Liber AL

Thursday 24th October. Lylan told me about her practicing sex magick and that she is still continuing to do it.
Thursday 31st October. Samhain. A Magical Rite – An Invocation of the energy of Therion. Midnight: Jephtah: Preliminary Invocation. Asmodel. Nephthys. Perdurabo. Incense was used in the rite which concerned _____. and ended at 12.30 a.m.
Friday 1st November. Success!
Saturday 2nd November. Abramelin. The Goetic Workings. The Talismans and the Rites of Sex Magick, together with the subtle invocations have produced a magical current, formulating my will. I was driven to such depths, not only by the perpetrations against me, but against Thelema and the Prophet. I have fulfilled and my equilibrium is once again returning to its balance.
Thursday 14th November. I am ready to confirm my will and course. With much pain I have crossed the divide created by the ordeals. Love is the law, love under will! Daily Adorations – ‘Liber Resh vel Helios’.
Sunday 1st December. The Greater Feast of A.C. with Frater ____
Monday 27th January. At 8.15 p.m. my Magick Ring broke – its work is done!
Tuesday 4th February. The work of the Ring [and the Rose].
Tuesday 8th April. Liber Legis I.
Wednesday 9th April. Liber Legis II.
Thursday 10th April. Liber Legis III.
Sunday 13th April. At Trinity College Cambridge with K______.
Monday 5th May. 01.15 a.m. Open T. Pentagram and Hexagram.
Wednesday 7th May. 11.20 p.m. Open T. Pentagram and Hexagram.
Saturday 10th May. 01.10 a.m. open T. Pentagram and Hexagram.

Wednesday 25th June. The T. is desecrated!
Sunday 6th July. A great awakening is upon me! He who desecrates expecteth the dire consequences of Ra Hoor Khuit! – It is done! The offender faces justice!
Friday 18th July. I have decided to resume the ______ workings with Baphomet which was last performed on Saturday 3rd May 2003 e.v.
Monday 21st July. I entered the Temple before midnight with the words of the Law as my mantra and Nuit was revealed unto me, O blessed Nuit!
Tuesday 22nd July. I entered the Temple at the midnight hour with the words of the Law as my mantra and the darkness became a rush of blue radiance as my Lady Nuit bent upon me and kissed me: ‘Then the priest answered & said unto the Queen of Space, kissing her lovely brows, and the dew of her light bathing his whole body in a sweet-smelling perfume of sweat: O Nuit, continuous one of Heaven, let it be ever thus; that men speak not of Thee as One but as None; and let them speak not of thee at all, since thou art continuous!’ [AL. I. 27]
Saturday 2nd August. Around midnight I entered the Temple (as I have done on many nights over the past few months). I found myself within a wood at night, upon a desolate yet beautiful path. The light of the moon was hauntingly radiant. I entered a gate and went along a path to a strange old house, its windows lit by candlelight. I knocked: xxx xxxxx xxx. A beautiful young woman came to the door and I was shown along a narrow passageway to a very comfy parlour room. She wore a white dress. As I sat in a chair, no words were said, and she came upon me. My black robe against her white dress. I left. Further along the path I encountered a small boy, his naked smooth skin glinting in the moonlight. He took my left hand and led me to his house which was very dark and rustic. We performed a magical rite together and I left. Later, I was in another house which was also dark. I tried the lights but they did not work. I entered a room and noticed a male figure in the shadows of the far corner wearing a robe. I shouted ‘Monk!’ and he screamed at me to ‘Get Out!’ I left and as I opened the front door I saw people on the path outside. I fell upon my face and then I and some others went towards the window and saw the ‘monk’ with his shaven head forcing himself upon a young boy in an act of sex magick. I had feelings of deep rage towards him!

 

Love is the Law, love under will.

 



 

 



 

 



 



THE MAGIC BOOK WORM

REVIEWS BY BARRY VAN-ASTEN

A Magick Life: A Biography of Aleister Crowley – by Martin Booth.

Magician, poet, mountaineer, adventurer and seeker of enlightenment through drugs and sex, Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) was a larger than life character who inspired many of his contemporaries to go beyond the confines of existence and explore and expand the inner ‘magical’ faculty; even decades after his death, Crowley the icon, the ‘wickedest man in the world’, became a major force in the 1960’s counterculture revolution. Today, his prolific output increases in popularity as more people are drawn to his spiritual system of magical attainment. A Magick Life by Martin Booth is an intelligent and un-biased biography, he does not fall under the spell Crowley casts over many authors, as he dispels demonic myths and chronicles the facts of the ‘Great Beast’ accordingly. We are taken through 1890’s London and Cambridge, the Scottish Highlands and the Himalayas; Paris, New York and to Sicily where Crowley founded his temple, the Abbey of Thelema. Crowley, who is known to have had a great sense of humour and was able to laugh at himself and his image would surely enjoy Booth’s dry sense of humour! Sensational stuff!


The Heart of the Master – by Khaled Khan.

Khaled Khan (Aleister Crowley) wrote the book in 1924 and it was originally published in the German periodical ‘Pansophia’ as ‘das Herz des Meisters’ in 1925. It was published in England in 1938 and Crowley’s inspired text is written in three parts: ‘The Vision’, ‘The Voice’ and ‘The Temple of Truth’. The book is an announcement, a declaration of the arrival of the New Aeon of Horus (begun in 1904) and its teachings and world vision; its significance through the context of the Tree of Life, the ten Sephiroth and then Tarot. Masterful!


The Magicians of the Golden Dawn: A Documentary History of a Magical Order 1887-1823 – by Ellic Howe.

‘The Magicians of the Golden Dawn’ published in 1972 by Ellic Howe is an excellent and very well researched history of the occult Order. There has been much speculation and mystery surrounding the foundation of the Hermetic Order of the Golden dawn, partly derived from the discovery of a certain magical manuscript written in cipher, which was supposedly found by Dr. W. R. Woodman (1828-1891) in 1887. Together with his fellow seeker of occult knowledge and wisdom Dr. William Wynn Westcott (1848-1925), they attempted to decipher the manuscript. The Doctors turned to the eccentric magical scholar Samuel Liddell ‘MacGregor’ Mathers (1854-1918) who managed to solve the ciphers riddle. It was discovered that the cipher contained the name of a Rosicrucian Adept named Fraulein Sprengel, whose magical name was ‘Sapiens Dominabitur Astris’ (SDA), living in Germany.
Following Westcott’s correspondence with the mysterious Sprengel, the three occultists were granted permission to establish an English branch of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, and so the Isis-Urania Temple was founded in London in 1888 and Woodman, Westcott and Mathers presided over it as Chief Adepts.
Following the death of Fraulein Sprengel all ties were cut with the German secret society and the English Order were left to make their own links with the ‘Secret Chiefs’. Dr. Woodman (‘Magna Est Veritas Et Praelavebit’ and ‘Vincit Omnia Veritas’) died and Dr. Westcott (‘Sapere Aud’ and ‘Non Omnis Moriar’) was forced to retire by Mathers (‘Deo Duce Comite Ferro’ and ‘S Rioghail Mo Dhream’) leaving him sole Head of the Order. Mathers claimed to have established the link with the Secret Chiefs in Paris.
Unlike other fraternities and secret societies such as the Freemasons, women were permitted to join and were equal in status to the men. Many great names flourished in the Order: W. B. Yeats (1865-1939) ‘Demon Est Deus Inversus’, Annie Horniman (1860-1937) ‘Fortiter Et Recte’, Allan Bennett (1872-1923) ‘Iehi Aour’, Arthur Edward Waite (1857-1942) ‘Sacramentum Regis’, Florence Farr (1860-1917) ‘Sapienta Sapienti Dono Data’ and of course Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) ‘Perdurabo’, who during the revolt of the Second Order, following the damning letter by Mathers which stated that Westcott had ‘never been at any time either in personal or written communication with the Secret Chiefs of the Order’, pledged his loyalty to Mathers and acted as his ‘plenipotentiary’ and attempted to seize the Vault of the Adepts!
Ellic Howe, being neither an ‘occultist’ or a ‘magician’ has written the definitive history of the Golden dawn with many rare examples of correspondence from private collections which helps to dispel certain myths and enlightens the reader to the true development of the Order, its ceremonial magic, internal struggles, deception and intrigue that those modern magicians encountered. From beginning to end: from the rites and initiations which were performed in the Outer Order and the magical grade system to the Second Order, the R.R. et. A.C., Crowley and the ‘Battle of Blythe Road’ and Mathers, who discovered the manuscript of the ‘Sacred Magic of Abra-Melin’ in the library of the Arsenal in Paris and translated it into English, his downfall and from the flames of the Golden Dawn rose the ‘Stella Matutina’.
In its final chapters the star diminishes in brightness and there is more internal squabbles between the ‘washed-out’, insipid Yeats, the gullible crank Dr. Felkin (‘Finem Respice’) and other ‘rebels’ who tore the heart out of the Golden Dawn until it finally limped into the early twentieth-Century where it imploded. I cannot praise this book and its author enough for this outstanding and remarkable work!


The Golden Dawn: An account of the Teachings, Rites and Ceremonies of the Order of the Golden Dawn – by Israel Regardie.

Israel Regardie (1907-1985) first published ‘The Golden Dawn’ as four volumes in 1937-40 and this later publication (four volumes in one book) is a monster tome, very thoroughly researched presenting every aspect of ceremonial magic which was taught within the Order. I have personally found the book very useful in my own studies and practices and no library of the occult should be without this book! ‘By names and images are all powers awakened and reawakened’.
Regardie explores the complete system in these four collected volumes – volume I, book 1: Basic knowledge and practice, the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram, various Lectures and the Middle Pillar exercise. Volume II, book 2: Rituals of the Outer Order – Neophyte, Zelator, Theoricus, Practicus and Philosophus. Book 3: Rituals of the Inner Order – the Portal Ritual, the Adeptus Minor Ritual, the Equinox Ceremony, symbols and the use of the Vault. Volume III, book 4: Primary techniques of magical practice and the magical weapons – the Ritual of the Pentagram, the Supreme Invoking Ritual of the Pentagram, the Ritual of the Hexagram and the Lesser Ritual of the Hexagram. The Lotus Wand and the Consecration Ritual; the Ritual of the Rose Cross and the magic sword. Book 5: Principles of symbolism of ritual magic – z1: the Enterer of the Threshold, z2: Magical Formulae and z3: the Symbolism of Admission. Book 6: Ceremonial magic in practice – Evocation, Talismans and the Bornless Ritual. Volume IV, book 7: Clairvoyance, talismans, sigils, Tattwas and Rising on the Planes. Book 8: Divination – Geomancy and the Tarot. Book 9: Enochian magic.

‘I come in the Power of the Light.
I come in the Light of Wisdom.
I come in the Mercy of the Light.
The Light hath healing in its Wings.’

With many illustrations, Regardie has done a tremendously exceptional job of giving to the world a glimpse into the workings and ceremonies of one of the most infamous secret societies – an undoubted classic!


Nature of the Beast – by Colin Wilson.

Nature of the Beast is certainly not the best biography of Aleister Crowley and Wilson slips into the usual pitfalls many biographers of the enigmatic Beast seem to do and serves his dish with a good dose of ‘sensationalistic’ sauce! But like a mysterious yet somewhat charming uncle whom nobody seems to talk about, Wilson can be forgiven and applauded for his attempt at producing a fairly decent introductory ‘starter’ to Crowley before moving on to the ‘main course’.

PEGAMINA

By BARRY VAN-ASTEN

 

PART ELEVEN

 

THE GREAT DOOM BALL

It was the day of the Great Masked Ball and preparations were underway for its success. Here, someone was bust fastening the gold chains to each of the seventy-two stone pillars that dominate the Great Hall of Doom. And there, someone was tirelessly hanging the one-thousand-one-hundred-and-sixtieth silver lamp with a remaining eight-hundred-and-forty to be hung, all of which to satisfy his Lordship’s whim of outshining the moon! Servants in black velvet tunics with black stockings and black shoes were slowly moving across the floor, like disordered pawns in a one-sided game of chess as they swept and polished the marble floor. And in other rooms (for there are over a thousand rooms at Doom Hall) many hands were busy beating the curtains and folding and unfolding sheets in between the never-ending task of making ancient heirlooms and decorative antiques shine like never before.
Below stairs, the kitchen maids were weeping because the head butler, under the influence of several bottles of his Lordship’s brandy, was taking a little too much pleasure in killing the two large salmon, or ‘unburdening them of life’ as he liked to call it. One met its end under the heel of his shoe as it tried to flap itself across the floor. ‘What a magnificent fish!’ he said as his heel came thundering down upon its head! The other was unceremoniously ‘drummed to death’ on the kitchen table as he sang some filthy bar-room song, dancing quite suggestively with the sorrow-struck salmon and kissing the fish during the choruses! And at the other end of the kitchen, the cook’s were on their knees praying to the great chef in the sky that the stardust pudding would taste of actual stardust! In the corner, a fat boy stirred the honey and in another, an old woman sat picking an almost ceaseless supply of creepy-crawlies from the sauce and the spice bowls. And under the table a little boy was being violently ill, while being hit about the head with a ladle, after tasting nine-hundred different varieties of jam and all before the sun had set over the great stone walls of Doom!
And so it seems that another Great Masked Ball is destined to succeed, despite the fact that Grizzle, the famous mouse-catching cat had fallen into the soup for the third time and that the cooks were wearing more of the culinary delights than actually cooking it, for it is a strange spell cast over Doom on the night of the Great Masked Ball and nothing short of a resounding triumph will do.
Meanwhile, in the garden, Pegamina and the gardener, Grudge, were making their way towards the Hall, stopping at all the lovely flowers that still had the strength to push through the snow. ‘I don’t know what I would do without my little children!’ said Grudge tearfully, referring to the flowers. ‘Each one gives me something that nothing else can! I know them all, and when they die I die a little too, inside!’ And slowly they walked up the stone steps of Doom for the gardener was such an old and frail man, until they came to its impressive entrance. A large stone arch prevailed over the doorway with terrible depictions of souls in torment carved upon it. Grudge led Pegamina to a side entrance where they suddenly emerged into a narrow hallway. Showing her to a small room, the gardener whispered into her ear: ‘do not open the door to anyone but me!’ and she agreed as he shuffled down the passage and was gone.
It was approaching the hour for the Ball to begin, but having no such thing as time it had become a tradition for the mechanical owl (who, having some sort of remembrance of time, though not very accurate) to announce the Ball open, and so, in his official capacity, he hooted: ‘Let the Ball begin!’ as he slid down the banister of the Great Stair followed by a succession of eminent figures, making their entrances from rooms where many nights and days had been devoted upon their personal attire. All the guests wore masks of course, not little fanciful masks shaped like butterfly wings, but large, uninteresting masks without expression or emotion, which covered the whole face. White masks were worn by the ladies and red by the gentlemen and all the other attendants wore black; even the drunken head-butler’s eyes were busy spinning and revolving behind a black mask! In fact, to appear wearing the wrong coloured mask would invoke his Lordship’s intense displeasure, and death would surely follow, as swiftly as night follows day. In making sure all the guests were in their correct masks, a simple rhyme was devised:

‘A white one for the moon;

A red one for the sun

And a black one for the universe

Before it had begun!’

Yet, it was solely his Lordships’ privilege that he should wear a blue mask.
Now, in another part of the Great Hall of Doom an old man was silently shuffling through its corridors that wound through the Hall like veins in a vast corpse, for Grudge was returning to the room in which Pegamina had been waiting, carrying two masks, one white and one red. After entering the little room, Grudge handed Pegamina her white mask and he put on his own red one.
‘Must I wear it?’ said Pegamina.
‘Aye, if you value your life?’ answered Grudge.
‘But why? It feels so uncomfortable to wear!’
‘Because his Lordship will not look upon any face except his own! Some say he is the handsomest man that ever lived and to look at him is to fall in love with him beyond all comprehension! Others say that he is so ugly that to see his grotesque face is to spoil one’s eyes for beauty, forever!’
‘Then I think the truth is better covered by a mask!’ said Peg and they both walked along the corridor, entering many doors, crossing many suites of rooms and descending many flights of wooden stairs.
The festivities in the Great Hall had gotten underway. Wine was being poured from a huge heart-shaped ladle into beautiful crystal glasses, and the musicians began to play (though not completely in time of course and some would argue, the same key!) In one corner of the Hall, Julius the story-teller was entertaining the guests with a perfect rendition of some story about a ghostly skull with opal eyes that can only look at its own reflection in the mirror, until one day a magpie pecks his eyes away and the skull is happy not to see anything, ever again! And of course, there were the usual revelries, like the young earls kicking the courtiers down the steps and the eight sorrowful maidens who think themselves the prettiest things ever to have breathed, trampling over the gardener’s beautiful flowers which would have killed him instantly had he witnessed the slaughter of his ‘children’. And all because no beauty can compete with their own vanity! And then there were his Lordship’s noble cousins: Aquillegia and Alchemillia Despair who were busy rolling the fat boy from one end of the Great Hall to the other, flattening an old Duchess quite speechless in the process, in fact, she fell quite dead! And so this was how the aristocracy enjoyed themselves in Sleepy Sadness, yet never had a room been more full of broken hearts and broken promises!
On the great dining table, the mechanical owl had to be pulled from the punch bowl to perform his duty of announcing his Lordship, ‘Great citizens of Sleepy Sadness, we are gathered here to mourn...’ but before he could finish his speech, he was plunged back into the punch bowl, hooting and protesting. Then in swept his sombre Lordship, Magnus Doom, as if conjured by a wicked magician!
 There he stood in his blue mask and elegant black dinner suit wearing the family insignia and official state regalia of various academic and fraternal institutions, including the famous pendent in the shape of a teardrop, bearing the words: ‘sorrow hath reigned and sleep shall soothe’.
Slowly, Lord Doom descended the stairs and not a sound could be heard except for the mechanical owl, splashing about in the punch bowl. All the guests bowed and his Lordship uttered just one word: ‘Welcome!’
During his Lordship’s grand entrance, Pegamina and Grudge had slipped into the ballroom, unnoticed, and as the music began again, they weaved through the guests, arm in arm, nodding, but never speaking. Pegamina was strangely fascinated by all the elegant costumes; in fact, she stood quite some time just admiring the beautifully dressed guests who talked of elegant things. Two gentlemen were of particular interest to her as she listened to their conversation:
‘In conforming to the single crease, I find that one eliminates all trace of natural character, and as you know, all trace of natural character must be suppressed!’
‘Oh undoubtedly’ said the other gentleman.
‘Individuality sir must be smoothed over for the sake of taste; for the sake of sartorial correctness!’
‘A good suit sir’ said the other gentleman in a loud voice, wishing to be overheard, ‘should contain the universe sir and nothing less! A good suit sir should have the secrets of the cosmos in every pocket and a good tie sir is the very epicentre of the illusion!’
‘Quite!’ was all that the other gentleman said. But Pegamina had lost interest in their talk and all talk for that matter, for Pegamina’s attention was now solely fixed on his Lordship, who sat in a corner, talking to no one yet admired by all.
Without a moment’s notice, all the guests were suddenly lined up and down one side of the ballroom as the great oak doors swung open to reveal a beautiful bird with elegant plumage, in a flood of tears behind its red mask. The bird was tied to a wooden wheel which was rolled into the centre of the ballroom. Then, one of the servants dressed in black velvet walked before the guests with a silver platter, on which were a heap of mouldy, rotten old apples and every guest took one in each hand. A man stepped forward into the centre and announced in a deep voice that the bird was guilty of trespassing on his Lordship’s grounds and that he had been sentenced to a ‘severe pelting’ for shooting at the Lily. Pegamina suddenly realised that the beautiful bird behind the mask was the Peacock, that ‘positive enigma’ whom she had met at the monument. But before anything could be done, the rotten apples went whizzing through the air, and all of them, well aimed found their target! The Peacock’s head hung low and the red mask tumbled to the floor and the sadness still there in his eyes, behind the tears, struck Pegamina most of all, as his little life began to flow away. Doctor Morose (who had participated in the apple throwing) was called and he pronounced that the miscreant Peacock’s heart had quite stopped and he recorded the cause of death as ‘died of shame!’ Pegamina went towards the Peacock’s lifeless body and she sobbed as she took its limp wing in her hand, as Grudge did his best to comfort her, but there was nothing he could do.
During the proceedings no one had noticed his Lordship’s exit from the ballroom, just as no one had noticed that the mechanical owl had drowned in the punch bowl.
‘Yes, a strange case indeed’ said the doctor ‘though nothing surprises me anymore! You know, only three moons ago I was called to the sick-bed of the woodland cuckoo. Very tricky business! Broke its back in a nasty fall! Sixteen breaks don’t you know! Well, there was nothing I could do so I broke it some more and put the poor fellow out of his misery!’ Just then, Glum the undertaker (who had also participated in the slaying of the Peacock) walked towards the dead bird, measuring a wing and tutting, then a leg and tutting some more. Finally, the poor Peacock was flung, without much care, onto the shoulders of the undertaker’s assistant and carried off to a little room in which it would be prepared in order to take pride of place in his Lordship’s collection of rogues and wrongdoers, behind a glass cabinet, beside the tattered remains of the Lily, next to the stuffed corpse of the Don’t Don’t bird!

 

Lord Magnus Doom

 

 

 

PART TWELVE

 

THE CRYING ROSE

As Peg stood gazing at the lifeless body of the Peacock, that was dangling over the assistant undertaker’s shoulder, its head swaying from side to side, she felt a small hand grip her own and as she looked down she saw the bruised and bleeding face of the fat boy.
‘Does it hurt?’ asked Peg.
‘Immensely!’ uttered the fat boy as they stood in the centre of the Great Hall, surrounded by masked faces and ball gowns twirling to the sound of violins.
‘This way!’ said the fat boy, gently pulling her hand. And they both slipped out of the Great Hall through a doorway into a dark corridor. Along the way, Pegamina learnt that the fat boy’s name was Crocket and he told her about all the ill treatment he suffers at the hands of the kitchen staff and just about anyone he happens to get in the way of.
‘Is there no one that is kind to you?’ Peg said pitifully.
‘I don’t think I know what kind is; does it involve being slapped on the legs for eating too many tarts? Or does it involve being locked in the cupboard for getting caught with my fingers in the treacle jar?’ ‘It doesn’t involve any of those!’ said Pegamina dabbing at his face with a corner of her dress. ‘Kindness is treating other people how one would expect to be treated oneself!’
‘Then I should like kindness to be custard and jam for I should so like to be treated with custard and jam!’
Pegamina laughed and then Crocket laughed though he didn’t know what he was laughing at. When they came to the end of the hallway, Crocket showed Peg a small opening that was hidden behind some hanging tapestry.
‘Where will it take me?’ asked Peg.
‘I don’t know, I’ve never been able to squeeze through but I’m sure you can and you shall be safe there!’ Pegamina kissed Crocket’s fleshy cheek and thanked him for being so kind to her.
‘I don’t know what you’re doing’ he said as she kissed him ‘but it’s very nice!’ and Crocket blushed and ran down the hallway, leaving Pegamina to squeeze through the opening that lay behind the tapestry.
Once inside, she found herself in a white chamber. ‘It’s whiter than the moon’ she thought. And looking round her eyes fell upon the white splendour that seemed to unfold before her. There were beautiful fine laces, delicately embroidered with fabulous and mythological beasts, hanging from ivory pillars encrusted with pearls and opals. And with each careful step across the white marble floor, the lace gently blew about her. And as she pushed her way through the cascades of lace that hung like smoke about the room, she found herself confronted by a large mirror that stood upon a stone altar in the shape of a wolf; and there, on the altar, resting upon a glass orb, filling the chamber with a strange scent of sleep and death, was the deadly hemlock flower. Suddenly, Pegamina heard the sound of weeping, and as she turned to the sound, she saw the beautiful body of a woman, her face turned away behind a lace curtain.
‘Why are you weeping?’ asked Pegamina. And the woman said in the saddest voice ever to speak:
‘I am woman and I am man and I am the secret of the moon; though I touch no soul but my own, I bear the weight of the morning upon my heart!’
‘Can you not look at me for I wish to see your face?’
‘I cannot, for I am all that is hideous in the heart and I must turn from the mirror for all eternity because I dare not see the terror that lies within my own soul. It asks for much and gives so little in return for I am plague and pestilence and I bear the face of all the hungry children in the world!’
Pegamina turned towards the altar with her heavy hear and without a moment’s thought she swept the ghastly flower from the orb with her hand, and clutching the glass orb, thrust it into the mirror, which shattered and fell like tears upon the marble floor. She hung her head and in looking round she saw that the weeping woman wept no more and had been released from her torment, for she was dead upon the floor! The light dimmed in the chamber and all the beautiful lace fell as dust upon the marble floor and Pegamina could hold her tears no more. And she felt a shattering sadness as she turned away from the woman that lay amidst the decay within the chamber, as she entered a doorway between two stone pillars.
She now found herself stepping into another chamber, a red chamber. ‘It’s redder than the sun!’ she thought as she walked across a mirrored floor that reflected the red silken drapes and the pillars of porphyry stone, encrusted with beautiful rubies and sapphires. Again she pushed between the flowing curtains until she came upon another altar. And she could see, as she had seen before, a large mirror supported upon a stone altar in the form of a unicorn, and there upon the unicorns back, placed upon a piece of scarlet satin, was the orb and the flower, but a different flower for it was the monkshood.
Pegamina turned, as she had done in the white chamber, but not to the sound of weeping, but to the sound of sighing. And there before her, sat the handsomest man she had ever seen and it appeared as if he was looking straight through her.
‘Who are you and why do you sigh?’ she asked. And the man replied:
‘I am man and I am woman and I am the secret of the sun; though I touch no soul but my own, I bear the weight of the evening upon my heart!’
‘Is that why you sigh?’
‘I sigh because I am the love that destroys and breaks hearts and I must turn towards the mirror for all eternity, for it reflects the most beautiful face in the entire world and there is nothing fairer for my eyes to fall upon. It asks for little and gives so much in return, for I am avarice and all that is greed and I bear the face of the entire world’s beauty!’
Although Pegamina was struck by the man’s beauty, she turned towards the altar and picked up the orb and hurled it into the mirror as the flower fell to the ground. The mirror splintered into a thousand pieces and fell like ice upon the mirrored floor. And once again, she turned to the sight of another lifeless body lying upon the floor, still bearing the world’s beauty, but unable to see it for evermore! Then the room went dull and the silk hangings fluttered to the floor in scraps and rags and Peg felt an unbearable sadness grow within her heart!
Then after what seemed like an eternity, Pegamina suddenly remembered what the old gardener, Grudge had said:

Snow shall cover the land of Doom;

Tears will flow in the pool of gloom.

And within a room, within a room, within a room,

The heart of sorrow has built her tomb!

Pegamina looked around her but she could find no entrance into a third room. She carefully examined all the walls for any signs of a concealed doorway, but she found nothing. And so she sat down before the altar, with her head in her hands looking at the shattered fragments of glass and tattered strips of silk strewn about her; then, some sound made her look up. And as she peered into the space where the mirror had been she could hear the faint sound of crying coming from within. She went towards it, and as she got closer she could see that a dark chamber lay beyond and so she climbed up onto the stone unicorn and entered through the mirror’s frame.
Once inside she was unable to see anything. ‘It’s blacker than the night!’ she thought. The floor was of black marble and black velvet drapes hung from ebony pillars depicting fantastic imaginary creatures. As she slowly pushed her way through the drapes that brushed against her face and seemed to be filled by midnight’s fear, she came upon a stone altar in the shape of a turtle with a piece of black satin across its shell upon which stood a single candle. And so Pegamina walked towards it as the sound of crying grew louder.
‘But where is it coming from?’ she thought to herself. It seemed to be coming from the turtle’s shell and so she removed the candle and placed it upon the floor and pushed the satin to one side. Grasping the turtle’s shell, she lifted it carefully, and there inside was the flower of death: the crying rose! It was the whitest rose she had ever seen, but as she looked again, she saw that the rose had become red! ‘What makes you cry so rose?’ Pegamina asked with tears flowing down her face.
‘I cry because I hold the sufferings of sorrow for I am death; though I touch no soul but my own I bear the weight of the night upon my heart! Already I grow weak, for the morning and the evening have fallen and my white petals have become red and welcome the release from an eternity of suffering!’ And here, Pegamina reached into the turtle’s shell and gently lifted the rose from the black satin tomb and cradled it in her hands.
‘The weight of the world’s sorrow is the greatest of all sorrows and I have carried that sorrow since all life began! Let it crumble as I crumble, for death is the only release...’
Pegamina felt a great pain as the rose withered and died between her fingers, never to cry again, as the final curtain lifted from the land of Doom!
And so, with the dying of the rose, all the wickedness of Doom was gone, for indeed Doom did fall and Lord Magnus became a kind and generous man. And as the snow melted and the great walls came down, the gardens were beautiful once again. And in time perhaps happiness would return to Sleepy Sadness. And as for Pegamina, she felt as if a great sadness had been lifted from her heart and she knew that her father loved her more than anything in the whole world, for she was so very loved... she was so very loved!

 

The Flower of Death: The Crying Rose