The Song of the Wahbeek: An Audiobook

Well, I finally did it. I made a recording of the entirety of Bromwell's "The Song of the Wahbeek." As I kept working with this poem, trying to understand it, and write a digest and commentary of it, I felt compelled to record myself reading it. This initially started off as a way for me to better engage the poem and really internalize it, and for me to listen to it in order to provide another means of absorbing the poem. But as I recorded it, I felt compelled to add music, sound effects, et cetera. It became fun. I really enjoyed putting this together.

Now, I want to share it with the world. So if you want to listen to me read poetry for three hours, click the link below, and if you want to read along, click the link below that.

I am putting together a video essay to accompany this poem. So stay tuned for that.

YouTube: The Song of the Wahbeek by Henry P. H. Bromwell (Audiobook)

Google Book: The Song of the Wahbeek: A Poem

A Guide to Henry P. H. Bromwell's "The Song of the Wahbeek": Poetic Structure

 

Portrait of Henry P. H. Bromwell, c. 1850.
at the Stephen H. Hart Research Center, History Colorado, Denver

“The Song of the Wahbeek” utilizes several meters and rhyme schemes throughout, each with the intention of invoking certain atmospheres and being homages to other poets and cultural poetry. Thus, it would be prudent to provide an analysis of the meters and rhymes he uses throughout the poem and what they are invoking.

The poem is styled as a “conversational poem,” likely modeled after Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s conversational poetry, with only portions being descriptive of the scene of the conversation, notably at the beginning and the end.

One cannot underestimate how influential Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha was on the composition of “The Song of the Wahbeek.” Hiawatha uses a trochaic tetrameter, which is borrowed from the Kalevala. Bromwell opens the poem, the description of the setting prior to the conversational speech, in a trochaic tetrameter. However, Bromwell is not strict, or rather is more fluid in the exact pronunciation of the verses. For instance, the opening is a trochaic tetrameter, but line 7 has ten syllables: “To mingle draughts of marvelous power.” But it can be read as only eight, thusly: “To mingle draughts of marv’lous pow’r.” Bromwell typically contracts two-syllable words as necessary to fit the meter. These syllabic deviations have poetic purposes. For instance, John Milton’s Paradise Lost uses iambic pentameter, with one of the most infamous lines from this epic breaking this structure: “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven” (I.263). There is a trailing, unstressed, extra syllable at the end. This is deliberate. Satan is making a very bold, assertive statement, yet, the trailing extra syllable gives an air of uncertainty. Not to mention the statement switches from iambic to trochaic. Thus, line 7 may be rendered as only having nine syllables: “To mingle draughts of marvelous pow’r,” with “pow’r” being a weak, trailing syllable, effectively taking the power away from “pow’r.”

Bromwell is not as formal as Longfellow’s Hiawatha or Kalevala, but rather allows himself to stray from the meter. Longfellow did the same in other poems, but not Hiawatha; he remains strictly in trochaic tetrameter. Bromwell certainly had a mastery over poetry, and thus felt that there were moments where he had the poetic license to deviate. For the most part, until the conversational poetry begins, the verses are trochaic tetrameter. Furthermore, when the Spirit of the Wahbeek is telling stories of old, it will occasionally make use of identical rhymes, i.e. where the same word is used to make a rhyme. Bromwell is not usually fond of doing this, but it is common in many aboriginal songs and Longfellow makes heavy use of it in Hiawatha. The fact Bromwell occasionally uses identical rhymes, typically made by the Spirit of the Wahbeek, is likely an homage to Longfellow.

When the poet, chronicler, theologist, and philosopher begin their discourse, the verses turn more into free verse poetry — albeit, it is more closely hendecasyllabic, but with many deviations and no rhyme scheme that it might as well be free verse. When their conversation is interrupted by the manifestation of the Spirit of the Wahbeek, the poetry reverts back to trochaic tetrameter, and the Spirit of the Wahbeek continues this meter, and the four men continue in the same meter, until the spirit speaks once again, in which the meter reverts back once more to hendecasyllabic meter, with more slant rhymes than proper rhymes. The use of hendecasyllabic meter is an homage to classical Greek and Latin poetry, commonly used for Aeolic poetry.

Such presents a blending of homages to other poets and cultural poetry. The Kalevala uses trochaic tetrameter because Elias Lönnrot was copying the poetry he learned from indigenous Finnish cultures, albeit it with modification. Longfellow uses the same meter, not necessarily because the Kalevala uses it, but also because many indigenous American tribal poetry uses the same meter, and it is a common meter for many aboriginal cultures. Thus, the use of trochaic tetrameter is an intonation of something old, aboriginal, a song fading from memory. Yet, when the four men — all having Western vocations — speak, they use a popular meter of classical poetry, albeit modernized by neglecting rhymes or making use of slant rhymes. Then when the spirit speaks, the verses revert back to an aboriginal meter, and the four men will match the spirit’s meter as a matter of courtesy and politely communing with this divine entity. However, the spirit does not seem to mind what meter they speak in, so the spirit uses their modernized classical meter, and the men will likewise respond in the same style. All five characters are conversing with each other, not just literally, but also in meter and rhyme.

Think of it as several people are speaking in Spanish, then someone steps in and speaks to them in English. Thus, the group begins to speak in English to be polite. The English speaker then realizes that it was rude to intrude with English, and switches to Spanish, and everyone then comfortably continues in Spanish.

The meter and rhyme scheme will alternate between these two styles for much of the poem. One gets a sense of what is being invoked by how Bromwell switches the meter. Usually when the spirit is telling a story of old, the meter changes back to trochaic tetrameter, but when the characters are discussing newer concerns — e.g. the philosopher asking what these things mean, or the theologian describing theological tenets — the meter reverts to hendecasyllabic.

The “Song of Klo lo war” is an interesting insertion, and is one of the few instances where the meter is wholly different from the rest of the poem. This is largely because it is a song nested in a song within a long poem — similar to how Melmoth the Wanderer has stories nested in stories. This song has a significantly martial quality, with each stanza beginning with three words, each being stressed, and then the following verses of the stanza are pyrrhic or anapest pentameter.

Another meter Bromwell uses that is distinct from the base tetra or hendecasyllabic meters is when the Spirit of the Wahbeek switches into heptameter, a popular meter for Medieval Latin poetry. The spirit adopts this meter specifically in response to questions from the philosopher and theologist, and the spirit speaks generally of Western philosophy and theology, speaking of the Sabbath, cherubim, seraphs, tabernacles, et al. Such indicates that the spirit is also a creature of the highest god, Yah Ho, which is a play on the Tetragrammaton, Jod He Vah He. Thus, the spirit knows of things of God, the orders of angels from the Throne of God, and things God commands.

Bromwell also plays with anapestic trimeter, which gives a faster pace to the speakers’ words. Et cetera. Ultimately, the poem will conclude with the spirit, once again, adopting a hendecasyllabic meter, and then the spirit leaves. The concluding lines revert back to a general narrative, wherein the meter is once again trochaic tetrameter.

Ultimately, Bromwell’s meter and rhyme scheme is playfully executed to illustrate a variety of poetic intentions, be it to give an aboriginal or classical atmosphere, or to invoke something martial and harsh, fast paced, or ecclesiastical. Whether Bromwell intended to give an ecclesiastical atmosphere to the verses composed in heptameter is debatable, but it may be surmised that he was inspired by, say, a heptameter ecclesiastical poem, and he was making an homage to that. Regardless, the specific meter and rhyme invokes an atmosphere that is appropriate to content of the verses themselves, and artfully executed.

A Guide to Henry P. H. Bromwell's "The Song of the Wahbeek": Lexicon

 

Portrait of Henry P. H. Bromwell, c. 1890, likely by Henrietta Bromwell
at the Denver Masonic Temple Building, Denver, Colorado

Henry P. H. Bromwell's most celebrated work is Restorations of Masonic Geometry and Symbolry (1905). After this, perhaps his most well-known work, or at least the work with the greatest number of prints and most circulated is The Song of the Wahbeek (1909). It is by far Bromwell's most ambitious poem, and is without a doubt his most complex, sophisticated, progressive, longest, and perplexing poem. One aspect of the poem that makes it difficult to approach is the many names and terms he uses that appear to be of indigenous American origin. Most of the terms he uses are derived from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "Indian Edda" The Song of Hiawatha, which in turn gets most of his indigenous legends and terms from Henry Rowe Schoolcraft's publications on the Ojibwe and other tribes around the Great Lakes region of the North America. However, Bromwell also uses other foreign and obscure terms, archaic English terms, and even makes up his own names.

For my own sake in assessing this poem, I found that I needed to compile a glossary of the terms Bromwell uses in order to navigate the poem more in depth. Thus, I want to share my glossary.

The spelling used here will be from the holographic manuscript as found in the Stephen H. Hart Research Center at History Colorado. In parentheses will be the spelling in the 1909 published version. I will include variation spellings, as Bromwell is not always consistent with spellings in the manuscript, but I will refer to the most commonly used spelling. Following this, I will provide a reference to the vocabulary provided in Longfellow's The Song of Hiawatha, which in turn comes from Henry R. Schoolcraft's publications on the indigenous peoples of the Great Lakes region. Any further commentary necessary will be provided to have the fullest understanding of these terms.

I will not be including locations of geographic names (e.g. Wabash [River] or Ohio [River]), unless it is a strange spelling that needs explaining, as Bromwell is frequently playing on the etymology of names in his spellings. Nor will I be including tribal names (e.g. Mohawk, Miami, et al), unless the spelling is unusual and needs an explanation. Only sparingly will I provide uncommon or obscure terms, names, locations, or archaic English words, and those are really when it feels like an explanation is essential. This is not a comprehensive glossary, but only what I personally feel are necessary to further explore this poem. In the future, I do plan on doing a treatment on Bromwell's poetry, and a full glossary will be available there. For now, this ought to suffice.

Abbreviations and Key:
arc.     archaic.
idio.    idiosyncratic.
pl.       plural.
syn.    synonym.
unc.    uncertain.
HWL  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Song of Hiawatha, “Vocabulary.”
( )    spelling used in the 1909 publication.
[ ]    term that is only found in a stricken portion of the holographic manuscript.

Glossary:
Athabaska — Lake Athabasca, which spans between northern Saskatchewan and Alberta, Canada. The name is Cree for "where there are many reeds."

Aztic (Aztec) — idio. the Aztec civilization of Mesoamerica.

Boodh — Bodh Gayā, a Buddhist religious site in India.

Bonpas — a township in southern Illinois, named after Bonpas Creek.

Boucoup — Beaucoup is a township in southern Illinois, named after Beaucoup Creek.

[Bucyrus] — Bucyrus, Ohio. Given that Bromwell struck “Bucyrus or Nineus” from his poem and replaced them with “Euphrates or Indus” indicates that he originally conceived of comparing these presumed locales and their presumed adjacent streams with these great rivers of the world.

Calmuc — arc. for the Kalmyks, a Mongolian-speaking people in Europe, and are traditionally Buddhist.

Calumet — a tobacco pipe, i.e. the "peace pipe."

Cathay (Cathy) — the old European name for China.

Chebar — Chebar River, where Ezekiel sat for seven days (Ezekiel 3:15).

Chemaun — HWL: "Cheemaun', a birch canoe."

Chian’s lair — wolf den; from the French chien, "dog."

Chimborazo — a mountain (inactive volcano) in Ecuador. It holds the distinction of being the highest point on the earth’s equator. Given that the earth’s circumference is approximated 27 miles greater at the equator than along any meridian, this mountain is technically the highest mountain from the center of the earth. It is not certain if Bromwell knew this, but at the very least, he is referencing the high point along the equator. The "dread" referred to is likely its volcanic geology.

Copan — Copán is a Mayan city in modern-day Honduras.

Cuyote (coyote) — idio. "coyote."

Deeve — idio. daeve, a malicious spirit in Zoroastrian mythology.

Extacy, extatic — Bromwell is playing on the etymology of ecstasy here, namely the Latin extasis, which in turn is derived from the Greek ἔκστασις ekstasis, meaning “displaced” or more literally "out of where I stand." This is an example of Bromwell very explicitly using idiosyncratic spellings to play with the etymology of a word, where he wants us to reflect up a word’s origins when contemplating his verses.

Eyah yeah — HWL: "Ewa-yea', lullaby."

Fetich — arc. fetish. While the term is frequently used in a sexual manner today, historically the term referred to the veneration of inanimate objects that are believed to possess magical properties.

Flamen — the etymology of this word uncertain, but historically refers to the priests of any of the officially authorized cults of specific deities in the Roman Republic. Bromwell uses the term to refer to a high priest, given adjacent references to the ephod, signifies that this is a Royal Arch reference.

Fohi (Fo Hi) — Fuxi, a Chinese mythical character who is credited with having created humans, along with a number of human arts, such as music, and trades, such as hunting and farming.

Gheezis — HWL: "Ghee'zis, the sun." It is Ojibwe in origin and today is more generally spelled "giizis."

Gitchee Gumee, Gitchee Gummee, Gitchee Gummie — HWL: “Gitche Gu’mee, the Big-Sea-Water, Lake Superior.” From the Ojibwe gichi gami, meaning “great sea.”

Gitchee Manitou (Gitchee-Manitou) — HWL: Gitche Man'ito, the Great Spirit, the Master of Life." This is an Algonquin term, literally meaning "Great Spirit."

Grinsward (greensward) — idio. greensward, a tract of grassland. There is no etymological explanation for Bromwell’s spelling of this word.

Gush ne mou, Gush ne bou, Gush ne mow (Gush-ne-mou, Gush-ne-bou, Gush-ne-mow) — appears to be the underworld or a land of darkness where the sun sets. Probably derived from HWL: "Gushkewau', the darkness."

Gush noo, Gushnoo (Gush-nou) — a meda or medicine man in the poem who carved the figures into the boulder. He is described as an astrologer, the wisest medicine man, who traveled to Mesoamerica to learn from the Aztecs.

Guyamba — unc. probably a mountain of some significance given its proximity to Chimborazo in the poem.

Haemus — Mount Haemus, named after King Haemus, a great hunter who insulted Zeus and Hera, and thus Zeus turned him into a mountain (Ovid, Metamorphoses, X.64-77).

Happy Isles — These are perhaps an homage to the "Islands of the Blessed" in Hiawatha (VI, XV, XXII). Longfellow is likely referencing the Isles of the Blest or the Fortunate Isles (μακάρων νῆσοι makárōn nêsoi) in Greek mythology, and are an island or islands in the Underworld wherein the virtuous and courageous reside apart from the wicked or unremarkable souls. Longfellow specifically refers to the Islands of the Blessed as “the land of ghosts and shadows” (XV). Longfellow only uses the term "Islands of the Blessed" until the death of Chibiabos, the musician and singer friend of Hiawatha, who then becomes the lord of the dead in Canto XV. Thenceforth, the realm of the dead would be referred to as "Chibiabos" (XIX) or "Ponemah," HWL: "Pone’mah, hereafter." Ponemah effectively is the new name of the land of the dead, which presumably is the overall territory of the Underworld, wherein the Islands of the Blessed reside. Ultimately, the Islands of the Blessed, Ponemah, the Hereafter is where Hiawatha will set sail when he leaves his people in the hands of the white men (XXII). Geographically in North America, Bromwell may also, possibly, be referencing the "Happy Island" of the Chippewa River near Eau Claire, Wisconsin. The Wisconsin River has a number of islands, and thus this could be in reference to any number of them.

Havilah — Hebrew חֲוִילָה Hewila; syn. Garden of Eden, or the valley where the Pison River parts from the Garden, and is purported to be rich with gold (Genesis 2:11).

Hiddekel, Hidekel — from the Hebrew Ḥîddéqel, the Tigris River, one of the rivers flowing through the Garden of Eden.

Hoang — an Anglo approximation of the Mandarin Huáng, "Yellow," referring to the Yellow River, China.

Hueep o huiel — syn. Wohnonaissa. In the poem, she is a “maid of the forest” and singer of lamentations. She falls in love with a deceiving character, Ku she lah, who then leads her out into the wilderness. Mathro rescues her by turning her into a forest bird, wherein she sings her sad songs. Likely she was turned into a whippoorwill, possibly based on the HWL etymology of Wohnonaissa.

Idumea — Greek Ἰδουμαία, Latin Idumaea, referring the Edom, the Kingdom of the Edomites of the Old Testament.

Jebis — HWL: "Jee'bi, a ghost or a spirit." Bromwell appears to use jebis for both singular and plural instances, and sometimes makes it a proper noun when referring to a specific spirit.

Jossakeed, Josakeed  — HWL: "Joss'akeed, a prophet." The term is Ojibwe in origin, and more properly refers to a medicine man. Bromwell uses this term interchangeably with meda.

Kaskaskia — Kaskaskia, Illinois, which is a small village along the Mississippi River in southern Illinois. The settlement is named after the Kaskaskia tribe, who originally inhabited the area.

Kenning — a figure of speech in which the speaker uses many words, oftentimes figurative speech, to express something, rather than use a more definitive single word.

Kentekah (Ken-te-kah) — unc. possibly syn. "Kentucky." The name is purportedly Iroquoian for "on the meadow/prairie."

Ku she lah (Kee-she-lah) — a lying, deceiving character in the poem. He knows Hueep o huiel loves him, and when she calls to him, he lures her out into the wilderness. Mathro would punish him for this by turning him into the night wind, wandering in the darkness, and carrying “poisonous” vapors that bring sleep, leaving him eternally weeping and saddened.

Klo lo war, Klolo war, Klolowar (Klo-lo-war) — son of Malk and the brother of Mandan in the poem, who is a rather pastoral character, being given his name by the shepherds, and who is skilled in playing the lyre and sing songs, which are purportedly moving and poignant. He would be invited to play his lyre and sing for a solstitial ritual festival about the wahbeek. His song is provided in the poem as “Song of Klo-lo-war,” which awakens the spirit of the boulder. However, this song was deemed blasphemous and profaning the sacred rituals of the solstice. Thus, Mathro and the king condemn him to death. The princess Lowiel pleads with her father to spare him, but to no avail. He would be executed at the boulder and his corpse left there. Mandan would eventually go to avenge his brother’s death.

Llano — Spanish llanos, “plains,” referring to the grasslands in northern South America.

Lo qui qui (Lo-qui-qui) — unc. Described as someone or something Hueep o huiel dwells with. It is possible that Lo qui qui is simply the evening or the night, thus Hueep o huiel lives in the night.

Lowiel — a princess who was moved by Klo lo war’s song and pleaded with her father, the king, to spare the singer’s life, but to no avail. After his death, she continually mourned him at this final resting place at the boulder until she eventually passed away.

Macoupin — an American lotus, Nelumbo lutea. The term comes from the Miami-Illinois language.

Malk, Malka — a shepherd king, the father of Klo lo war and Mandan.

Mandan — son of Malk and brother of Klo lo war, is a mighty warrior in the poem. Long before Robert Peary and his team first reached the North Pole in 1909, Mandan is credited with reaching the North Pole, the kingdom of the terrible primordial spirit Rhim, whom he challenges and defeats, taking his magical sword the “stone of power,” the latter of which he gifts to Gitchee Gumee (Lake Superior). He would avenge the death of his brother Klo lo war after he was condemned to death for singing a profane song during a solstitial festival. Mandan would slaughter everyone who opposed him in the kingdom for forty days. The name “Mandan” is borrowed from a Great Plains tribe of that name.

Manitou — a spirit or deity; an Ojibwe term.

Mathro — a priestly figure in the poem. He is frequently compared to Montezuma (Moctezuma II) in the poem, who was both king and priest of the Aztec Empire, which is an homage to Montezuma’s own belief that that the conquistadors as gods and Cortez as an incarnation of Quetzalcoatl, which would inevitably lead to the destruction of the whole Aztec Empire, much in the same way that the old Finnish ways would yield to Christianity, and same way that Hiawatha ends with the old indigenous American cultures would yield to Christianity. Like Montezuma, Mathro is worshipped as a god or demigod, having his own disciples, and possessing magical abilities.

Mazaroth — from the Hebrew מַזָּרוֹת mazzarot, “constellations.” The reference to the Pleiades in the poem are an homage to Job 9:9 and 38:31-32.

Meda (pl. medas) — HWL: “Me’da, a medicine man.” The term comes from Ojibwe mida, which is derived from mashkiki, an Ojibwe approximation of “medicine” as a loan word. A societal organization of mida is called Midewiwin. The practice of medicine is called mida, and a practitioner is called a midew. Though Longfellow excludes “medamin” from his vocabulary, the term is used in Canto XVI, and is synonymous with “healing.” Bromwell uses this term interchangeably with jossakeed.

Mese Sepe (Me-se-se-pe) — Mississippi River. From the Ojibwe misiziibi, "great river."

Mi Chee gan (Mi-chee-gan) — Lake Michigan. The word comes from Ojibwe mishigami, meaning "large water."

Minne Wakon — Minne is in Longfellow's vocabular twice: Minneha'ha and Minnewa'wa, the former meaning "laughing water," and the latter meaning "pleasant sound, as of the wind in the trees." This term may be a Bromwellean original name for Milwaukee, which comes from the Ojibwa mino-akking, as well as the Algonquian mahn-a-waukee, both meaning "pleasant land." Bromwell is likely playing on several etymologies at once here.

Mondamin — HWL: "Monda'min, Indian corn [i.e. maize]." The name is a Miami corn deity. Longfellow uses the name for a spirit that Hiawatha will conjure, then wrestle with, and when Mondamin finally dies, corn sprouts from his grave, and thus a boon to the people of the land. Bromwell does not capitalize the term, indicating that he is using it simply as maize.

Musquoquetas (Muscoquetas) — likely referring to the musk rose (Rosa moschata), believed to have originated in the Himalayas, though no specimens survive. Likely Bromwell is making an homage to Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream II.1.631 or John Milton's Lycidas 146.

Moweaqua — the Moweaqua Creek near the modern-day town of Moweaqua, Illinois. The word comes from the Potawotami word for "she that weeps." Bromwell uses the term to refer to a tribe.

Nah wo din (Nah-wodin, Nah-wo-din) — this is Bromwell's idiosyncratic name for Hiawatha, the hero of Longfellow's epic The Song of Hiawatha. It appears that Bromwell did not want to appear to be plagiarizing Hiawatha in the same way Longfellow was accused of plagiarizing the Kalevala. Sometimes Bromwell's use of this name sounds like he is describing a tribe, but he is referring to Hiawatha. In many ways, Bromwell's poem takes place decades after the events of Hiawatha. Tales of Nah wo din's own adventures are told in the poem, and these appear to be inspired by Hiawatha, and other times appear to be Bromwell's own.

[Nineus] — unc. Given its proximity to Bucyrus in the poem, is may be another small Midwest town that no longer exists. Given that Bromwell struck “Bucyrus or Nineus” from his poem and replaced them with “Euphrates or Indus” indicates that he originally conceived of comparing these presumed locales and their presumed adjacent streams with these great rivers of the world.

Nistak (Nistac) — an owl in the poem. He is described as lonely and thinks of himself as wiser than the medas, possibly once a meda himself, and was turned into an owl by the jebis, whom he now mocks.

Oillinois — idio. “Illinois,” i.e. the Illinois Confederation, which was comprised of the Peoria, Cahokia, Kaskaskia, Mitchigamea, and several other tribes.

Orgie — Greek ὄργια órgia, referring to secret rituals or “mysteries,” though the term literally means "work."

Ouig quah (Ou-ig-quah) — unc. possibly a blanket or covering, used metaphorically for the covering of the night.

Ouisconsin (O-is-con-sin) — Wisconsin River. It is a corruption of Jacques Marquette's Meskowsin, an approximation of the Algonquian original.

Pampa — Quechuan pampas, “plain,” referring to the fertile grasslands on the Atlantic Coast of southern South America.

Pan Yan — described in the poem as a "seer." Origin of the term is uncertain.

Peri — a winged spirit in Persian mythology, frequently of a mischievous disposition owing to their rejection from being allowed into Paradise for their transgressions.

Piasa (Pi-a-sa) — the Piasa carving of a monstrous creature on the bluffs of the Mississippi River in Madison County, Illinois.

Pinelore — a steamboat, an indigenous name meaning "fire canoe."

Pirogue — a canoe made from a hollowing out a single piece of wood.

Piske (Pis-ke) — the night.

Puk weejis, Puk wee jis (puckwejis) — HWL: "Puk-Wudj'ies, little wild men of the woods; pigmies." Puckwudgies are of Wampanoag folklore, and they resemble small humans, but can shapeshift, and tend to be mischievous, typically maliciously luring people into the woods. Bromwell portrays them as magical forest creatures who are responsible for changing the color of the leaves.

Rhim — a fearful primordial tyrant in the poem, born from the universe itself, and the controller of the celestial movements of planets and comets. He has a terrifying kingdom and abode at the North Pole, sitting on a throne of lodestone, and has many dreadful servants and sorcerers at this command. He is possibly allied with a dark mountain god, Watchi Manitou. He would eventually be defeated by Mandan, who captures Rhim’s dark magical sword. The name Rhim does not appear to be from any indigenous American tribe, nor does it necessarily sound American, but likely is derived from the Hebrew ראם re’em, which is some fearful beast in the Bible. St. Jerome translates the word as "unicorn," but it is also translated as "wild bull" or "rhinoceros." Isaac Asimov would argue that it is an aurochs.

Sachem — the title of the highest chief within Algonquian tribes. Sometimes Bromwell makes it a proper noun.

Sak i mas (Sak-i-mas) — likely syn. sachem and sagamore.

Sagamore (pl. sagamores) — a term near synonymous with sachem, both being deviant Anglicizations of an Algonquian term. Sometimes Bromwell makes it a proper noun.

Shah Shah — HWL: "Shah-shah, long ago." Bromwell may be using this term in lieu of "from time immemorial," a particular Masonic homage.

Shaster — idio. or arc. "Shastra," which is not a specific text, but a Sanskrit word for a treatise on a specific area of knowledge.

Shinar — the lower part of Mesopotamia (between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers), wherein King Nimrod, a great hunter, ruled during the construction of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 10:10).

Simoon — a localized sandstorm, described as being a hot, dry, dust-laden desert wind in the Saharah and the Middle East.

Sirocco — a Mediterranean wind that originates in the Sahara Desert and moves northward toward Europe. It brings hot, dry, and dusty conditions.

Tesselled — a particular Masonic term, which is a corruption of several other terms, being a conflation of "tassel," "trestle [table]," "tarsel" (a corruption of both "tassel" and "trestle"), and "tesselate." It refers to the checkered pavement of the Masonic Lodge, representing that life is checkered with good and evil. Bromwell uses the term as a sort of adornment, either as an adornment of the border of something or placing adornments throughout the field of something else.

Tomihica (tomahica) — idio. “tomahawk” (axe). This is Bromwell’s etymological approximation of the Powhatan tamahaac or the cognate Lenape temahikan.

Tophet — Hebrew תֹּפֶת Topet, is a place in the Valley of Gehenna, located in Jerusalem, and is purported where children were ritually sacrificed in a fire to either Moloch or Baal. It is referred to in II Kings 23:10, Isaiah 30:33, and Jeremiah 7:31-32.

Wadys — or wadi, is a dry gulch, which only becomes an active watercourse during the rainy season. This term is primarily used in the Middle East and Africa.

Wahbeek — HWL: "Waw'beek, a rock." In Longfellow's poem, the wawbeek is a particular black rock with fatal powers, though wawbeek could be any rock. Bromwell uses wahbeek as a general noun, though he renders it as a proper noun when referring to the spirit of the boulder central to the poem.

Wahoo — the wahoo fish, Acanthocybium solandri. 

Wah hoo — the wahoo shrub, Euonymus atropurpureus.

Wai wassi me (Wai-wass-i-me) — unc. appears to be a lightning and thunder deity or spirit in the poem.

Wampum — HWL: "Wam'pum, beads of shell." They are usually cylindrical seashells, and usually used for jewelry, though sometimes traded as "currency," albeit more for its intrinsic value than an actual currency system.

Watchi Manitou — a mountain spirit. Watchi is a Cree word for "mountain." It is a dark god that appears to be allied with Rhim. If this etymology is correct, it is a mixing of tribal languages, and stands out as a linguistic shibboleth.

Wigwam — a temporary domed structure common through indigenous North American tribes, through the term comes from the Wampanoag tribe of the northeastern United States.

Wohnonaissa (Woh-no-naissa) — possibly a portmanteau of HWL: "Wahono-win, a cry of lamentation, "and HWL: "Wawonais'sa, the whippoorwill." This is a female figure who is described as sad and a singer, also called Hueep o huiel.

Woof (pl. woofs) — arc. a texture or fabric. From the Old English owef “fabric,” wefan “to weave.”

Yah Ho, Yah Hoh — the most supreme deity of all spirits. This is a derivation of the Tetragrammaton: Yod He [Vau He], or Jah He, or Jehovah.

Age of Steam & Fire: Henry P. H. Bromwell's Newspaper

 

Henry P. H. Bromwell was an exhaustingly ambitious individual. He is best known for his Masonic tome Restorations of Masonic Geometry and Symbolry, published posthumously in 1905, but he also wrote an extensive amount of poetry, addresses, orations, and essays — both Masonic and political — and he even created his own Masonic rite, Free and Accepted Architect. Yet one curious byline that gets a mention on his Wikipedia page that appears to have gotten absolutely no attention is that he ran a newspaper called Age of Steam. Here I will endeavor to provide the greatest amount of information on this newspaper as is known.

According to Bromwell's daughter, Henrietta, her father purchased the Fayette Yeoman sometime after 1850.[1] This was a local newspaper in Bromwell's town of residence, Vandalia, Illinois. It appears he simply acquired their printing press to start a new newspaper, however Henrietta implies that he procured the entire entity of the Fayette Yeoman and simply changed its name, thus also implying he acquired its subscribers list and its files, et al. She explains the start of this newspaper differently in her entry on her father in her publication of the Bromwell family genealogy, namely that The Age of Steam was his father's, her grandfather's newspaper and Henry P. H. Bromwell assisted him with this newspaper.[2] The most detailed description of how this newspaper came to be is described by Henrietta in the preface to her transcription of the 1852 list of subscribers to The Age of Steam, in which she details its history based on what she knew about the paper. I will thus transcribe her preface to the subscriber list, as the only copy of this document is in the Denver Public Library, and not exactly readily available:

In the year 1852, Vandalia, the old State Capital of the twenties and thirties, always conservative, very much afraid of change, had not ceased to argue of the destruction of business to be expected from the coming of the rail roads, human life was also considered to be in jeopardy.

Engines were feared more than we now dread the air ships. A rival paper, in a nearby town, came out with a sneer at the title of "The Age of Steam", so that my father, in his next issue (to the delight of his friends) raised the name to "The Age of Steam and Fire", which title the paper bore, until in 1856 he sold it to Tevis Greathouse.

I have copies this list of subscribers to Vol. 1, from two small record books in the beautiful handwriting of my grandfather Henry Broughton Bromwell, who, in 1854 assisted in re-organizing Temperance Lodge No. 16, in Vandalia, masonry having lapsed when the Capital was removed to Springfield.

He was the first Secretary of this reorganized body of Masons, and Dr McCurdy was Worshipful Master. His handwriting can probably be seen in the old records of the Lodge. He was a Baltimorean, a Quaker by birth, and of fine education, but so quiet and unselfish, that other usually appropriated his honors.

He managed the paper a good deal, doing all the clerical work, but most of the editorials were by his son my father, who had always a brilliant wit, and with whom many persons were wise enough to avoid a tilt.

Greathouse sold the paper, and with it went the Files. At last, on the night of March 4th, one year after Lincoln took his seat as President, the office with all its contents was burned. Its patriot owners being away in the war, nothing was saved.

If any copies of "The Age of Steam" exist, they must be in the treasure chests of some of these old subscribers in the list I have copied.

I hope they may come to light, and that I may some time see them, for every move is as good as a fire, and we have moved several times, and I have none of my own.

Elizabeth Henrietta Bromwell
646 Williams Parkway, Denver Colorado.
September 25th 1927 [3]

So here we can see that the paper was originally called The Age of Steam and that it would change name to Age of Steam & Fire, because a another newspaper nearby bore a title that mocked The Age of Steam, and so Bromwell responded by adding & Fire to the title. Again, Henrietta implies that it was her grandfather's newspaper and that her father simply helped out with it. It was definitely a short-lived paper, that it must have gone inactive for a number of years, and eventually was totally destroyed by a fire, and because she and her father moved from Illinois to Colorado, even moved a couple of times to different houses in Denver, any copies her father may have kept were lost.

Henrietta, as valuable as her descriptions about the newspaper are, she clearly does not know a lot about it, so she constantly has to piece bits of information about it together years later, and none of her descriptions are consistent. We still do not know much about it. She transcribes the list of subscribers in hopes someone kept the papers, but we live in the modern age, and libraries are much more connected. Three libraries today have the 1852 volume of The Age of Steam, and two have the 1853 volume of The Age of Steam & Fire, and a few other libraries have a few copies of various issues of these in miscellaneous collections of Illinois newspapers. At this time, I have not found a full collection, and interlibrary loan has not let me view microfilms of any full collections. I will have to travel to Illinois and visit a few libraries to potentially examine any full collections. What I have been able to examine is one collection of miscellaneous Illinois newspapers on microfilm, which includes a few copies of the Fayette Yeoman, The Age of Steam, and The Age of Steam & Fire (reel no. 327 from the University of Illinois at Urbana Campaign — this reel was largely composed of newspapers from Fayette County, especially Vandalia). I was actually the first person to ever view this microfilm reel, as the seal was still on the reel, hence why I am certain almost no one has ever really explored this newspaper. This is what I can gather from the few specimens of these papers from this microfilm reel.

The Fayette Yeoman ran until at the latest May 10, 1851 (Vol. 2, No. 29), in which James Kennaday was the sole editor and proprietor. It would appear that Kennaday was the primary driver behind changing the name of the paper sometime in 1852. The only specimens I could view of The Age of Steam was April 30, 1853 (Vol. 1, No. 48), in which Kennaday and Henry P. H. Bromwell were joint editors and proprietors, and it was published weekly on Saturdays. It is possible that Henry Broughton Bromwell worked with the paper in 1852, and possibly even in 1853, but he is not mentioned in connection with this paper in either of the two issues of this paper that I was able to view. Henry Broughton appears to have only been a cleric, not an editor, as Henrietta indicates on the title page of her transcript. Sometime between May 7, 1853 (Vol. 1 No. 49) and August 16, 1853, the paper added & Fire to its name. As of the latter date (Vol. 2 No. 4), Bromwell became the sole editor and proprietor of the paper, and it changed its weekly publication day to Tuesdays. The three issues of The Age of Steam & Fire I was able to examine were the one already mentioned, along with August 23, 1853 (Vol. 2, No. 5) and September 6, 1853 (Vol. 2 No. 6). I find no records that this newspaper ran past 1853. As Henrietta indicates, the paper was sold to Tevis Greathouse in 1856, but I did not see any newspapers on the microfilm collection I viewed in which Tevis Greathouse was the editor or proprietor of. So I am not certain he did anything with the paper or press after his acquisition of it.

Note, I have not seen any specimens of The Age of Steam in 1852, so it is possible Henry Broughton was connected to the paper then, and possibly this is why he only kept records for 1852, and then he severed his connection with the paper when his son, Henry P. H., took over the paper entirely in 1853. Further, note that this paper went through an actual name change in 1853, as it maintained the same volume and issue numbers when & Fire was added to the paper's name, continuing the volume and issue numbers of its previous name. The front page title would be updated, but on subsequent pages maintained to read "The Age of Steam," indicating Bromwell did not want to pay to update this custom header.

Obviously my research on this paper is incomplete. Some day in the future I will be able to afford to travel to Illinois to view full collections in person, of whatever copies they actually have preserved.

But from what we can discern about this paper is that it was indeed originally the Fayette Yeoman, which was run by James Kennaday, but he would rebrand it as The Age of Steam sometime between mid-1851 to early 1852, with Bromwell joining the team, and by August 1853 Bromwell would acquire the entirety of the paper and added & Fire to its name as a responsive sneer at another paper. Bromwell neglected the paper in the years after 1853 and sold it in 1856.

Let's be real, this is not unusual for Bromwell. He was highly ambitious, and as a result, he neglected ambitious projects he started, and then lost interest in them, or just did not have the energy to maintain them. I write about this extensively in my article on him and the failure of his rite of Free and Accepted Architects in Philalethes (Vol. 74, No. 3, pp. 144-154, 173).

The paper's contents seem to us today as archaic and insignificant; mostly news about the railroad, land deals, new companies, et cetera. The reality is that it was actually a really progressive tabloid. Somewhere I read it being described as an "abolitionist" paper. Certainly Bromwell was an abolitionist, but I don't think I would call it that. He was certainly a radical. When he served as a Representative to Illinois in the US House, he was what we would come to call a "Radical Republican." I have read his political speeches in the Congressional Globe, and he was a hard radical in Reconstruction, frequently waiving the proverbial "red shirt" (i.e. citing the Union dead from the Civil War, or invoking the death of Lincoln), and calling for harsh punishments for the rebelling States before their representatives be readmitted into Congress, and such.

Further note that Illinois was still viewed as the frontier of the time. Bromwell reminiscences on the days when Illinois was the frontier back when he was a boy, sometimes in political speeches or elsewhere. Henrietta is correct in that Illinois was still very conservative in those days, and with the events of Bleeding Kansas and the approaching Civil War, tensions were high in Vandalia. An intellectual like Bromwell with abolitionist sentiments, as well as women's suffrage and technological advancements, it should not surprise anyone that his old press would be burned in 1861. Such indicates that Greathouse probably continued publishing tabloids, but I am uncertain which, but they must have been of a progressive leaning nature.

I would hope that once I can view some more complete collections of this paper we may have a better idea of who Bromwell was in these years. Perhaps we may find poetry of his that were only published in this paper and were lost by time his daughter publishes all his poetry posthumously. Perhaps we'll find some interesting editorials that illustrate key aspects of his character and sentiments. But at this time, I simply wanted to layout everything I know about this newspaper, as it appears it has never received a treatment whatsoever.

Notes:
[1] Bromwell, H. P. H. "Lines," On Buena Vista's Field, introductory remark by Henrietta Bromwell. 1918. Pg. 27.
[2] Bromwell, Henrietta. The Bromwell Genealogy. 1910. Pg. 52.
[3] Bromwell, Henrietta. "Preface," The Age of Steam: Subscribers List, Vandalia, Illinois, 1852. Denver Public Library, Western History Collection, G977.3 R737h.

Necromancy in the Forest of Marly: Acéphale, Dead Gods, and Bataille

 

Necromancer conjuring Astaroth under gallows
Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros.

Anno 1057. Noli me tangere.
Wellcome MS1766, c. 1776, folio 29r

Recently while researching about Acéphale, the secret society formed by Georges Bataille, I found a curious reference to an occult ritual that occurred in the 14th century. In Alastair Brotchie's The Sacred Conspiracy (Atlas Press, 2017), in discussing where Acéphale held their meetings, Brotchie mentions very briefly: "Here [Montjoie], according to the Chronicle of the Monks of Saint-Denis, the Duke of Burgundy instructed an apostate priest, a knight, a squire and valet to undertake rituals involving the invocation of the demons Herman and Astramon and the corpse of a thief strung up on a gibbet. These rites were intended to 'hasten the death of the king'..." (pg. 57). That was enough to get my attention.

Further, it does appear that Bataille was familiar with this historical occult ritual at Montjoie, as such appears to be the intended reference being made in his letter, intended as an inner circular only for the members of Acéphale, dated October 2, 1937: "It seems that for a long time a curse has afflicted this tower, and being abandoned it was used for certain necromantic practices directed against the royal person himself [King Charles VI]."

There is a lot to unpack here, so let us start with the location: Montjoie. This is an old castle, today a mere ruin buried in the Forest of Marly outside of Paris, that is believed to be the castle of Clovis I, the first king of the Franks. A brief walk away from from this ruin, almost a straight shot down one of the avenues in the forest, one will arrive at a site that is believed to be where Acéphale held many of their rituals, around the base of a dying oak tree that had been struck by lightning. This tree is located at an intersection of avenues, the intersection being called Étoile de Joyenval ("Star of Jupiter"), however Bataille would rename it on his map to Étoile Mourante ("Dying Star"). These intersections are called "stars" because they are where several avenues intersect at different angles, and therefore on a map they look like stars, however it is nonetheless quite poetic.

It is called Étoile de Joyenval because of its proximity to the Abbey de Joyenval, which in turn gets its name from the nearby ruin of Montjoie, which is believed to come from the Latin Mons Jovis ("Mount of Jupiter"). Bataille would associate the name, as many French people have done, with the old French battle cry "Montjoie [Saint Denis!]" However, the Acephalean reverence of this battle (bataille) cry was more an homage to Gilles de Rais, the infamous serial murderer of the 15th century. Gilles de Rais, like Bataille, once started out as very pious and then became incredibly wicked and dabbled in the occult.

At the Étoile de Joyenval there was once an old dying oak tree, which was decaying from a lightning strike that occurred some decades before Bataille came to the site. The oak is sacred to Jupiter (according to Agrippa in his Three Books of Occult Philosophy, Book 1, Chapter 26). Jupiter, remember is, not only the chief god of the Greek pantheon, but also the god of lightning. That this oak tree, sacred to the god of lightning, was struck by lightning has a certain poetic irony, and thus was a perfect emblem for Acéphale to conduct their rites. It represented the dead or dying god, and formed a central focus for the secret society. It is similar to the crucifix (the dying god) or the tauroctony (the god slaughtering an animal) as a central image to a religion. And a part of me cannot help but also think of Nietzsche's example of "lightning strike" in Genealogy of Morals... for no reason... it just makes me think of this.

Jupiter, we should remember, is one of the dead gods of the ancient world. Well, his Greek counterpart is dead: Zeus. Though Euhemerus's Sacred History (3rd century BCE) is lost today, surviving only in fragments and quotes in other texts, Euhemerus does nonetheless describe Zeus as a former king of Crete, and as a mortal king, he eventually died and somewhere on Crete is his tomb. Now, Euhemerus is oftentimes regarded as a sort of rationalist philosopher, so he rationalizes that gods are really just mighty persons of long ago, such as a king, that still holds veneration today.

And this is not unfounded, or at least not unusual. The idea of the dead king and the dead god as sympathetic images is a central theme in James Frazer's The Golden Bough, which Bataille was very familiar with. In fact, the whole notion of killing kings and killing gods is central to Acéphale, ακέφαλος "Headless." Bataille apparently wanted to kickoff his new Dionysian secret society with a human sacrifice, but no one wanted to be the executioner — albeit, this is a bit of a myth about the society, as none of the internal papers or correspondences within the society ever mention an actual human sacrifice. Bataille also wanted to make January 21st a day of celebration for Acéphale, as that was the date of King Louis XVI's beheading. I have also written previously on the possible link between Bataille and the Headless Rite of the Greek Magical Papyri (PGM V.96-172), as well as the magical image of a headless entity (PGM III.170) that may have been known to Bataille, as this image was in the Bibliotheque Nationale's possession when Bataille worked there.

We could spend a lot of time on Acéphale as a secret society and its components, and all its philosophical conceptions, but in that case, I recommend Brotchie's The Sacred Conspiracy. Let us return to Montjoie and the necromancers there.

This story of necromancers at Montjoie comes to us from Michel Pintoin, the chronicler of the Valois Kings, as he chronicles the life of Charles VI, thus much of what he writes comes from official documents and reports. While the book is called Chronicle of the Monks... it really was only one monk compiling this material. It seems reasonable that Bataille had perused this text, and this could likely be where he obtained the knowledge of this occult ritual in the 14th century, especially given his predilection for reading about wars (Chronicles largely concerns the Hundred Years War).

The following is a digest of the section of Chronique du religieux de saint-Denys, Volume 3 (pg. 752-762) that describes this necromantic ritual, and is based on my rather rusty Latin skills. I am not going to provide a translation, as my Latin is not that good — it is just good enough to muddle through. The 1841 text has the Latin and French translation on alternating pages. And since my French is worse than my Latin, I am only relying on the Latin.

Pintoin tells how the Duke of Burgundy (Philip II the Bold) had sought to hasten the king's death, as the king was already ill. So the Duke solicits the assistance (likely paying for his services) of a priest to conduct a magical ritual that will quicken the king's death. This is not that bizarre, i.e. that of priests and monks engaging in occult practices. This was common in the early modern period, and actually the vast majority of magical grimoires survive to us today because they were written by priests, clerics, and monks. This is was Richard Kieckhefer calls the "clerical necromantic underground" (see Kieckhefer's Magic in the Middle Ages).

The priest solicits the help of a knight, his squire, and a servant. The priest, knight, squire, and valet are given a sword and ring, very likely provided by the Duke. They then go to Montjoie (arcem montis Gaudii) to have the privacy to conduct this ritual. This is also not unusual, as we find in numerous grimoires instructions to go to a place where there will be no prying eyes, some place hidden or private. A ruined castle in the forest is perfect. We see something similar in the autobiography of Benevenuto Cellini (sculptor, smith, renowned for his bronze sculpture Perseus with the head of Medusa), in which in 1535 he participates in a necromantic ritual in the ruins of the Roman Colosseum. When you think about it, the Colosseum is actually a great place to conduct a ritual in the 16th century, as the Roman Forum was open, ruined, and no one would be there, especially at night, and in the case of the ritual Cellini participates in, "legions" of spirits are called, and they fill up the whole amphitheater... such would be difficult in one's small apartment.

Just before sunrise, the priest makes his preparations on a hill adjacent to the ruins. He constructs a circle of a certain size (circulum fecit de calibe), makes some invocations, and two demons appear to him in the form of men. This is compatible with many grimoires, in which if the spirits appear in hideous and monstrous forms, the magician will command that they appear in a pleasing form or in the form of human likeness. The demons that appear to the priest are called Herman and Astramon. Likely these are corruptions of Hermes and Astaroth or some other variation of their names. A pact appears to be made (ipsis honore divino), which is according to "the art [of magic]" (ut ars postulat). Then the knight, squire, and servant are to be "handed over" to the demons to be instructed in how to proceed and to be consecrated. This part is a little odd. Customarily, in nearly all magical rituals, the magician and their helpers will remain within the circle. The circle protects them from any harm the spirits may inflict upon them. Why would anyone leave the circle? Like ever? (Mind you, my Latin is rusty). Some magical rites have a complex of circles and paths between, and some only have one circle for everyone to remain in. Some have a triangle or other bounded area for the spirits to appear within, as another means of protection. However, only one circle is described here, so perhaps some variation of the Liber Juratus is being conducted, or perhaps the priest has already developed a relationship with Herman and Astramon, and thus has a very simple procedure to call them. Suffice to say, in some manner, the knight, squire, and valet were presented separately from the priest to the demons for instructions.

The knight, the squire, and the valet are interesting here, though totally appropriate. It is about this time period that we see the introduction of swords into magical rituals. This is in part because of the heightened monetary status of knights who could now afford to hire magicians or purchase a grimoire from a literate person, like clerics. And, as a result, they wanted their swords incorporated into the rituals. The squire is also appropriate, as squires were usually young, usually no more than eighteen years of age, and children have often been noted as being better able to see spirits than adults. We actually see something like this in Cellini's autobiography, wherein the second time they conduct the magical rite, they bring one of the shop boys from Cellini's studio, a lad of about twelve years and a virgin. The servant or valet is likely an assistant or pupil of the priest himself, likely being trained by him in magical arts (the clerical necromantic underground), and was there to ensure the knight and squire followed procedure and they got the results they hoped to obtain.

That the knight, squire, and valet are being "consecrated" by the demons is not that unusual. I have known magicians that will leave outside the circle an item they want the spirits to bless, so after having called the spirits and they arrive, they ask for whatever they called them for, and then ask that they touch and bless whatever item they left for the spirits. Though it is not advised that anyone ever leave the circle and physically engage with the spirits, mostly for their own safety, such is known to have been done, albeit it rare.

The knight, squire, and valet having returned from the demons with instructions, another pact is made (ad votum), possibly something like a license to depart — i.e. the demons are permitted to leave, their pact having been fulfilled, and ordered to be ready to come back when called — or it is simply that all this was done in accordance with the pact made when the demons first appeared (again, my Latin sucks). According to the demons' instructions, they obtained the body of a thief who had been executed in a gibbet. This was a common means of executing criminals, especially thieves. Basically the criminal is either hung by the neck until dead or placed in a hanging cage and left to die by exposure. A gibbet in particular is intended to leave the corpse rotting as a warning to others. Because of the stench, these executions were held far away from town, which meant these were prime targets for magicians to secretly obtain body parts or whole corpses for magical rituals. This has long been a practice in magic. Pieces of a body from one who died a horrible death are believed to possess immense power. Consider for a moment the remains of martyrs, in which their relics are believed to possess sacred powers. It is like that, except these bodies were more accessible to the public.

Necromancer with a torch and dagger in a circle, with an assistant removing hair from the corpse on the gallows
Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae...

Wellcome MS1766, c. 1776, folio 14r

Having a corpse, they placed the ring into the thief's mouth for a period of time (likely some duration of occult significance), then they cut the body open from anus to breast. Then the ring and sword were returned to the Duke, because now they are endowed with certain occult virtues. All of this tracks with traditional practices. The Duke needs some means of obtaining consecrated items to hasten the king's death. So a priest helps him. The priest cannot participate, as mutilation of a corpse would be a sin, and a violation of his own sanctity. So he solicits a knight and his squire to help, and the demons teach them how to do it. Now that they are instructed and sanctified by the demons, they consecrate the ring by placing it in the mouth of the executed thief, then they consecrate the sword by cutting open a body. Now these items have all the occult virtues they need for malefic magic. That these items have touched a corpse, an executed criminal, is reminiscent of magical procedures, such as those detailed in Necromancy in the Medici Library (translated by Brian Johnson), such as pricking a corpse with a needle, then using the same needle to prick a woman as part of an erotic binding spell. 

The ring itself is curious, as it appears to have already been used for magical purposes by the Duke of Burgundy. The Duke admits that his ring was received by a cleric for venereal purposes, and that he is a servant of Venus (velud dee Veneris obsequiosum servitorem). The ring itself, while worn, needs only to touch a woman for her to become enchanted and grow lustful for the wearer.

The priest continues by writing some "diabolical names" (likely voces magicae or untranslatable magical names of power) above the thief while still on the gibbet (likely on the cantilever supporting the body). He writes these names with a "spatula" (some kind of engraving or inscribing tool) in the thief's own blood — indicating that the corpse is still quite fresh. The Duke himself appears to have kept some part of this thief's corpse, perhaps the blood itself, in an amulet of sorts upon his person, worn under his shirt.

There is a mentioning of the King's brother stabbing him, the King, with a sword. It would be odd to do this ritual to hasten the king's death, as any regular ole sword would have done the trick. Stabbing someone to death isn't magical. Perhaps it is less magical and more practical, for if the sword had been used to cut open a rotten corpse, then the bacteria on the sword would spread to the king — perhaps similar to the needle pricking spell in MS Plut. 89 sup. 38, which would prevent the woman from desiring another man... because its difficult to lust for anyone when you're fighting an infection. Of course, this all rather silly, because if you are going to stab someone with a sword, it doesn't really matter if it could infect them, as the sword is probably just going to do that anyway. Once more, my Latin is rough and I could be missing something here. But it is worth noting that the Duke had also admitted to producing poisonous potions (pociones venenosas).

Further details of this ritual at Montjoie are absent, but there is enough here to gather that this is not some "elaborated theory of witchcraft," but appears to be a legitimate account of a ritual that occurred, even if the chronicler did not fully understand the material or details thereof. There is enough information here that allows us to conclude that this appears to be a legitimate ritual for conjuring spirits to obtain a certain objective through secret means.

These things were all of immense fascination to Bataille: secrecy, secret rituals, executions, corpses, killing the king, religious taboos, et al, and the fact that they took place at a site of immense importance to him: Mount Jupiter, near a dying oak tree... Bataille certainly absorbed all of this, likely with great excitement and enthusiasm. Who wouldn't? especially when you find a place with a history that fits so well into a mythology you have created for a new religion after the death of God.

Now, I should stress that Bataille was not that interested in magic. He addresses magic very briefly in Eroticism, and then says, "I don't really care about any of this. Go read Mauss." Acéphale was active from 1936 to 1939, while Eroticism was published in 1957. Perhaps Bataille's fascination with the occult was a fleeting preoccupation of his youth. When World War II breaks out, Bataille retreats. He produces more introspective works like Guilty, Inner Experience, and The Impossible, works focused on inner sovereignty, self-elation, et cetera. And Mauss's General Theory of Magic is more of an anthropological analysis of magic as social construct within societies, mostly by examining "primitive" cultures, much like Frazer's Golden Bough. It is not concerned with whether these practices are real or effective, but only looks at them as a social construct.

This is limiting, as someone who does have a variety of occult practices, who lives in a deeply haunted house, who has and still does engage with spirits... a sociological approach ends up being disappointing. Like the study of religious experiences, it is only focused on the social and individual values of these practices, as opposed to a certain reality that is difficult to quantify and qualify. It dismisses a huge aspect of what magic is and what it holds for those who practice it.

Bataille it appears was more interested in the taboo aspect of the occult, rather than actually practicing it. Patrick Waldberg would write about his initiation into Acéphale, which was included in the internal documents of the society. He describes having undergone a vow of silence at Bataille's apartment, and the next night being initiated in a ceremony around the dead tree. Out of the forest came robed figures with torches. Bataille himself burned sulfur as an incense (a very Saturnine incense, such as that specified in the Heptameron and Agrippa's Three Books), and Bataille would cut Waldberg's arm with a ceremonial dagger and draw blood — the dagger itself looked identical to that held by the acephalic being drawn by André Masson. This all seems more like the elaborated theory of witchcraft than any real practice. In part, it appears slightly Masonic — and it has been noted by Brotchie that Acéphale had some quasi-Masonic aspects — and in part is like something from Huysmans's Là-Bas. The rituals seem more like larping or cosplay than based on any practical existing occult tradition, being conducted symbolically as an act of transgression more than anything real or practically taboo. When I read Waldberg's description of his initiation, I am less enthused than in reading Bataille's descriptions of the tree and getting lost in the woods looking for Montjoie and his philosophical principles. The actual rituals appear to be a parody ("everything is purely parodic," The Big Toe) than a practical transgression. Such an opinion has been expressed by others, such as Justin Murphy (he specifically calls Bataille's bizarre rituals "larping"). And don't get me wrong, Bataille was transgressive. If we are to believe him (and we probably never should believe him), he masturbated in front of his mother's corpse in a room he had an orgy in years prior, jerking it while his pregnant wife was asleep in the next room... yeah. His ideas and much about his life are transgressive, but Acéphale simply is not quite that.

What I find so interesting here is that we have, basically, a larping group, a bunch of overzealous theorists that get carried away with trying to appear transgressive, but with some very powerful symbolism behind their choice of locale to conduct rituals — contrast this with an actual transgression, in which in the 14th century a priest was hired by a nobleman to conduct a magical rite, obtain what is needed from some demons, and use this to help hasten the death of the dying king. It is simply fascinating to look at a real transgression contrasted with an appearance of transgressing.

(A special thanks goes to Daniel Harms for helping me figure out where to find these images from the Wellcome Collection based on a really vague description I gave of them.)

Sacred Space: An Attempt at Classification and Qualification

 

Kiva at Long House, Mesa Verde, Colorado

Were I to be audacious enough to attempt to classify and qualify sacred space — and I am audacious — I would venture to posit the following terms and definitions. These are conceptions I have pondered and used for myself over many years. I initially conceived of these concepts back in 2013 when I was considering pursuing a PhD in architectural history, but opted to not accrue more student loan debt. These have largely lived in my head, but after my recent post on viewing sacred space through the eyes of Georges Bataille, I feel compelled to share the concepts under this new framework.

While this may initially appear systematic, it should be emphasized that this is neither systematic or final. I am fundamentally anti-systematic. Nor do I believe there is a system to the sacred. Systems are a human conception, a means for us to organize our experiences and understandings of those experiences, which the sublime ultimately surpasses. Certainly the numinous is sublime. We may generalize, but the sacred does not like to be categorized. Categories are little fences in which we put our ideas to inhabit, but the sacred is something that does not like fences and will quickly jump into another pen as soon as we put it in the pen we think it belongs to.

Thus, the following are generals and loose definitions as a departure point, instruments in approaching the varieties of sacred space and the manifestations for us to have more clarity in what is being experienced in the realm of the sacred.

Definitions:
Natural: those undomesticated aspects which remain original and primal as found in the wilderness outside of human society. Examples: mountains, prairies, animals, plants, the weather, seasons, oceans, forests, et al.

Profane: those elements and aspects of human life and society which have been established by taboos, laws, codes, social contracts, &c to set human society apart from the natural world. These include but are not limited to politics, economics, sexuality, personal relationships, business, drug use, et al.

Sacred: that which has been "set apart" from the profane (Eliade). Effectively, this is a means to transcend the profane, which may be viewed in two ways. Firstly, it is a "transgression" of taboos to experience primal nature as experienced prior to societal taboos (Bataille). Second, it is a secondary, substitutional means of experiencing primal nature via setting apart a time, space, persons, and objects for experiencing what Eliade calls "mythic history." This is a process of taking the sacred and setting rules around it to set it apart within the profane. This is usually what we call "religion," or more generally, it is civic-sanctioned sacred.

Divine / numinous: a non-physical objective to experience via the sacred. E.g. one seeks to commune with a saint at the location of their shrine, i.e. a sacred place associated with someone who is believed to be holy and therefore an intermediary with the divine.

Holy: a more general quality that meets certain criteria of religious prescriptions and rules, and are usually useful for accessing sacred experience / the divine.

Sacred Spaces / Places:
Sacred space: a location or area that is is believed to be sacred, i.e. that is not profane. These come into two varieties: primary and artificial sacred spaces.

Primary sacred space: a place that is inherently, a priori sacred. This is the original sacred world of prehistoric humans, which the profane was set apart from, long before human societies were formed. Primary sacred space has two varieties: natural and mythic sacred spaces.

Naturally sacred space: this is the natural world which human society has set itself apart from. This is effectively the raw wilderness, the totality of the natural world, and therefore would be viewed as inherently sacred or sacred a priori. It is already sacred, for who would are call nature anything other than sacred?

Mythic sacred space: this is the specifics in the natural world that have been designated or set apart from the rest of the natural world as particularly sacred. For instance, of all the vast wilderness in ancient Greece, Mount Ida was set apart as the birth place of Zeus and Mount Olympus set apart as the home of the gods. In many regards, mythic sacred spaces maintain their wildness, their raw naturalness, but are nonetheless naturally sacred places with a mythology set upon them and setting them apart from the rest of the wilderness. This is essentially what most religious rites are endeavoring to invoke, what Eliade calls "mythic history."

Artificial sacred space: this is sacred space that is established under profane conditions, i.e. societal taboos created this sacred space. This is a hybrid sort of sacred space, almost liminal, though "liminal" will have a different concept here (see "liminal sacred space"). It is through human interaction and taboos to set this space apart as sacred. There are two main types: historical and built sacred space.

Historical sacred space: this is a sacred space that is a step beyond mythological sacred space, but rather than belonging to mythic history, it belongs to actual history. For example, the Tempietto by Bramante is historically sacred because it serves as a shrine to St. Peter, as it is built upon the site that is believed to be where St. Peter was crucified, and thus serves as a martyrium for the saint. The site is historically sacred because a taboo had occurred, namely the killing of Peter ("thou shall not kill"). His death transgressed into the sacred, i.e. martyrdom, and thus the site of this event becomes sacred. The shrine itself is a built sacred space upon a historical sacred space. The site itself is sacred a posteriori, it is made sacred after the fact of Peter's death. Thus, historical sacred space is sacred a posteriori. There was nothing particularly sacred about the site prior to the saint's death. Further, historical sacred spaces may be an enhancement of mythic sacred spaces. For instance, the fact that Roman emperors frequently built their palaces on the Palatine Hill is an enhancement of the belief that Romulus built his house on the Palatine Hill, thus being their later contribution and engagement with mythic history. The Tempietto is another such example. Sometimes it is a sacralization of profane space, such as the Campo de' Fiori where Giordano Bruno was executed. This was once a civic plaza in the middle of Rome, but because Bruno was executed here, it may maintain a civic function, but then takes on a sacred function in the commemoration of an important person.

Constructed sacred space: this is sacred space that has been arbitrarily set apart from the profane. This is usually a temple, church, or other various religious structures. However, these are set apart within the profane, or more accurately, the profane has set this space apart for sacred functions. It is the sacred predicated upon profane authorization. Thus, the taboos are established to be violated to engage with constructed sacred space. A piece of land is set aside to construct this sacred space, and throughout much of history, civic funds were used to build such structures. King Solomon orders the Temple to be built using funds from the Israelites. Cathedrals of Europe were built using civic funds. And in many ways, built sacred spaces maintain civic functions. For instance, British royalty traditionally have their coronation at Westminster Abbey. This is a civic function occurring in a religious structure. Many churches maintain a civic function in their community, such as being a base of operation for things like food drives, soup kitchens, support groups, et al. A curious example is when crosses and steeples on churches are used to conceal cellphone towers: hiding the profane within a sacred symbol. There are three main varieties of constructed sacred spaces: permanent, temporary, and ad hoc.

Permanent sacred spaces: these are sacred spaces that are built to serve as a sacred space in perpetuity, indefinitely. For as long as the profane exists and supports this built sacred space, it will remain sacred. The church in the center of town will remain a sacred space so long as the town survives. So in the case of ghost towns, the churches that were erected fall out of their usual built sacred establishment. They may retain some perception of having once been sacred, and thus may fall into the "liminal sacred space" category. The vast majority of built religious structures belong to this category.

Temporary sacred space: this is space that is erected in perpetuity so long as the profane surrounding it survives to support it, but it is not intended to always serve a sacred function. A great example is Masonic lodges. So long as there is someone there to unlock the door, most Masonic lodges are freely accessible for the public to view. Going into a lodge room is not a sacred occurrence. It is not sacred until the members gather to officially open Lodge and non-members are kept without. The space is only sacred when the Lodge is open. When the Lodge is closed, the space goes back to being a regular profane space.

Ad hoc sacred space: these are spaces that are totally profane or natural, but is temporarily set apart to become a sacred space for whatever sacred function is needed, and then abandoned or broken down after use. Magical rituals usually fall into this category, and the magic circle is a great example. Namely, the magician will use their attic or basement or wherever is convenient and private or even out in the wilderness, and then draw a magical circle in which they will set themselves apart (profane) and conjure spirits outside the circle. This space may continue to be where where the magician will return time and time again, or it may be a one-time event. The rituals themselves usually do not require it to be the same place indefinitely. It is merely selecting a place that is convenient and private from prying eyes, and it can really be done anywhere that meets those criteria. Another instance would be a yoga group that meets in a public park, seeing as yoga has many spiritual associations, and thus the space in the park temporarily becomes sacred for its convenience for the time the yoga group is practicing.

Liminal sacred space: this is a space that may possess some sacred qualities but is neither of the things above, and therefore is marginally sacred. In occult practices, crossroads are sacred conjunction points and therefore sacred, but in a liminal sense, being both and neither of any two or more things. Cemeteries are a great example, as they are where people live, but those people are no longer living; it is where the dead live. The sacred rituals conducted in interring the dead is one predicated on Bataille's notion of the corpse taboo and that the corpse must be put away. Thus cemeteries take on a sacred quality, but ultimately are liminal as a place of habitation for dead people. Liminal sacred space may be a deconsecrated church, in which an atmosphere of sacrality is still perceived, but it no longer serves any sacred function. Since built sacred spaces have a profane function, or at least are civically authorized sacred spaces, ghost towns take on a similar liminal sacred quality. Ghost towns were once places bustling with activity and many inhabitants, and then today some ruins remain and it's still and quiet. These places are viewed as "haunted" and therefore take on liminal sacred qualities as being set apart from the profane. There is a subcategory of liminal sacred space, and that is restored sacred space.

Restored sacred space: this is a space that was once sacred and then fell out of being sacred for some duration of time and then later is restored to a new sacred space. One such example might be a synagogue that became de-utilized as such and then is later bought by a Christian congregation and repurposed as a church. This is more nuanced, as it is no longer liminal though it no longer serves its initial sacred function, but it is restored to a new sacred function. Stonehenge is a good example, as it had a sacred function when it was built, but for a long time became a bunch of curiously placed stones, and now these days neopagans have begun to use it again for solstice and equinox celebrations. It is not the original sacred function, but it has been restored to a new one. Restored sacred spaces were at one time liminal, but become sacred once more. 

The above is very generalized. It does not take into account nuances. For instance, National Parks in the US are these curious natural sacred places, since they have a taboo imposed upon them. The taboo is that the wilderness needs to be preserved and should not be harmed or developed into profane things. However, by placing this taboo upon the wilderness and calling it a "National Park" it becomes profane. But of course, we don't perceive it that way. We may pass the sign that says "You are now entering a National Park" but we don't experience that while standing in a forest glade or on a mountain top, no matter what artificial boundary is put upon it on a map. And at the same time, the taboo still exists. We're not going to cut down a tree or shoot a deer. This is very nuanced to natural sacred space.

Another example is the Ark Experience in Kentucky. It fits the definition of both a permanent built sacred space as well as a mythic sacred space, as it is trying to recreate "mythic history" that can be experienced. Certainly the Ark Experience is sacred space, but which? Or how much is it one or the other?

And spaces may get layered and complicated, like a palimpsest. Caves are natural sacred space, and then prehistoric humans went into them to conduct rites and paint on the walls. This is a constructed enhancement of natural sacred space. But these cave paintings were so long ago that we have no memory and observable understanding of what these paintings were for, so the cave paintings become a mythic sacred space to us today, layered over a natural sacred space.

The US Capitol Building is another example. Is Americanism a religion? Is there not a painting in the Capitol called the Apotheosis of George Washington? Is Thomas Jefferson not enshrined in a Pantheon, and Lincoln enshrined in a Temple and Washington enshrined in an obelisk? Americanism is disputable as a religion, and certainly it throws the above definitions for a loop. Are these civic memorials or are they sacred shrines? Is the Capitol Building a temple on a hill?

When it comes to built sacred spaces, these are predicated upon "religion" (usually), as they are civically authorized to be set apart from the profane. But this opens up the huge problem of what is religion? In the US, civically a religion is vaguely defined by the IRS, and the IRS admits that the definition is deliberately vague. So a televangelist for-profit center preaching to give them money because God said so... is this religion? Is the stage where he preaches sacred? This would be debatable so far as anyone believes him, and many do, but also many do not. This is where Bataille's definition of the profane being set apart from the sacred by setting up taboos, and to transgress those taboos is to enter the sacred. The televangelist's stage is a sacred space, because civically it is defined as such by law and tax codes, i.e. profane taboos are established to set this civic-authorized sacred space to exist. And just as the televangelist uses the convoluted and complex tax codes and laws and definitions to continue what they do, so too is the extent to which we can classify and qualify their studio as sacred space.

And I could go on, but this suffices initially for approaching the qualities and types of sacred spaces and the experiences they would provide.