The Dedalus Book of the Occult E-Book

Gary Lachman

• Herausgeber: Dedalus
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2011

Seitenzahl: 623

Beschreibung

A hidden history of western thought and the occult's place in it

Das E-Book The Dedalus Book of the Occult wird angeboten von Dedalus und wurde mit folgenden Begriffen kategorisiert:

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Publishing History

First published by Dedalus in 2003

First e-book edition 2011

The Dedalus Book of the Occult c Gary Lachman 2003

The right of Gary Lachman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patent Act, 1988

Typeset by Refine Catch Ltd, Bungay, Suffolk

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A C.I.P. listing for this book is available on request.

THE AUTHOR

Gary Lachman is the author of A Secret History of Consciousness (2003) and Turn Off Your Mind: The Mystic Sixties and the Dark Side of the Age of Aquarius (2001). As Gary Valentine he is the author of New York Rocker: My Life In the Blank Generation (2002)‚ an account of his years as a composer and performer with Blondie and Iggy Pop. He’s written for TLS‚ Literary Review‚ Guardian‚ Independent‚ Mojo and Bizarre‚ and is a regular contributor to Fortean Times. He lives in London.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank the Swedenborg Foundation for their gracious permission to reprint a section of George F. Dole’s translation of Swedenborg’s Heaven and Hell. Many thanks also go to Stephen Ash for his generous and indispensable suggestions‚ and to Mike Jay and Antonio Melechi for their invaluable expertise in editing anthologies. I am also once again indebted more than I can say to the staff of the British Library. Special thanks‚ however‚ go to the individual or individuals who‚ on a crisp September morning in 2002‚ stole my son Max’s pushchair at Camden Lock‚ Camden Town. I had carelessly stashed my bag under the seat‚ and within it were all of the notes for this book. Because of this chance encounter‚ however‚ my acquaintance with the material became doubly intimate.

CONTENTS

Part 1

Introduction: A Dark Muse

Enlightenment Occultism

Romantic Occultism

Satanic Occultism

Fin de siècle Occultism

The Modernist Occultist

Part 2

Selected Texts

From The Cloud upon the Sanctuary

From The Secret Doctrine

From Inferno

From The writings of Louis Claude de Saint-Martin

From The Symbolism of the Tarot

From Flights and Fantasies

From Magick in Theory and Practice

From Heaven and Hell

From Transcendental Magic

From A Season in Hell

From Petit poèmes en prose

From Les fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil)

Litany to Satan

From Cosmic Consciousness

From Hymns to the Night

“Initiates’ wandering did not differ from ordinary travels for study except that their itinerary‚ though apparently haphazard‚ rigorously coincided with the adept’s most secret aspirations and gifts …”

O.V. de L. Milosz

Part 1

INTRODUCTION

A Dark Muse

Hidden‚ secret‚ esoteric‚ unknown: these are some dictionary definitions for “occult.” The word itself has its roots in the Latin occulo‚ to hide‚ and is linked to the technical astronomical term “occultation‚” as when one heavenly body obscures or “occludes” another by passing in front of it. In the popular mind however‚ “the occult” is an all-purpose term indicating a variety of things‚ from Satanism‚ witchcraft and tabloid horoscopes‚ to internet psychics and UFOs. Although not entirely incorrect‚ this catch-all phrase indicates the kind of deterioration language undergoes over time. The occult or “occultism” is an umbrella term for a number of disciplines and beliefs which are generally agreed to be scientifically invalid and‚ in practice‚ worthless. Erroneous and misguided at best‚ at their worst – in‚ for example‚ the gruesome activities of some overzealous Satanists1 – some forms of occultism can indeed be dangerous. And yet‚ the origin of this popular notion of the occult is as occult – that is‚ unknown – as these practices themselves.

Although the several mystical and religious philosophies that make up the basic world view of occultism reach back to antiquity‚ the notion of the occult‚ as we understand it today‚ stems from relatively more recent times. Babylonian astrology‚ the Greek mysteries‚ hermetic philosophy‚ Gnosticism‚ Kabbalah‚ alchemy and other forms of occult thought are millennia old‚ but it was not until the rise of science in the late 17th century that these and other disciplines related to them became hidden and esoteric in the way they are seen to be today. Throughout the ages‚ the spiritual demands placed on practitioners of these arts were rigorous and hence‚ only the elite were allowed to engage in them‚ thus making them esoteric or secret to the profane. But they were nevertheless recognized as significant pursuits‚ worthy of respect and deference. One sign of the importance hermeticism‚ for example‚ held can be seen in the fact that in 1460‚ Cosimo de’ Medici‚ patron of the great Renaissance magician Marsilio Ficino‚ commanded his scribe to break off translating Plato‚ in order to concentrate on a newly found batch of manuscripts‚ purported to be the work of Hermes Trismegistus himself. Not long after‚ Isaac Newton‚ father of the modern scientific worldview‚ would busy himself much more with his explorations of alchemy and Biblical exegeses than with the theory of gravity for which he is remembered today. Newton is perhaps the last of his breed‚ for with the triumph of the Age of Reason‚ which‚ ironically‚ he helped bring about‚ the occult ideas and theories which he devoted innumerable hours to‚ became unquestionably passé. Materialism‚ scientific reason‚ mathematical logic and an amenability to being measured – the epistemological criteria that still reign with us today – became the sine qua non of truth and any knowledge or belief that did not meet these astringent requirements was summarily jettisoned. Which is exactly what happened to the occult.

To be sure‚ immense gains and much profit came from this advance. But there were also many losses. One central loss was that‚ with the rise of scientism – the belief that the above criteria were sufficient to account for all the phenomena of existence – the sense of meaning that‚ in different ways‚ accompanied belief in religion‚ dissolved. Another was that with the increasing power of the metaphor of the machine – Newton’s clockwork universe – the specifically human world of feelings‚ emotions‚ aesthetics‚ moral values and other immeasurable phenomena‚ were more and more seen to be illusory‚ or‚ at best‚ a pleasant but ultimately insignificant by-product of the purely material processes going in the human body.

The utilitarian advantages of the scientific worldview understandably occluded these more subtle considerations. Yet a sensitive minority remained troubled and sought support for their resistance. And it was at this point‚ I believe‚ that ‘the occult’ came into existence. In it the Enlightenment figures and early Romantics who questioned the new paradigm found a body of rejected knowledge‚ a counter-history and alternative narrative to human existence‚ one that ran parallel to the increasingly successful scientistic view. And as it dealt primarily with inner‚ spiritual things‚ it was one that readily lent itself to this sensitive minority‚ comprised‚ for the most part‚ of artists‚ poets and writers. In their battle against the encroaching complete scientification of human experience‚ in the last few centuries poets‚ artists‚ and writers have often found considerable assistance in the strange yet sometimes oddly beautiful array of rejected knowledge that makes up the occult.

Starting with the Enlightenment and continuing on to the modern period‚ what follows is‚ I believe‚ a representative‚ though not exhaustive‚ survey of some of the main characters who over the last few hundred years have dipped into this magic bag‚ along with samples of some of the occult texts they drew out‚ and glimpses of some of the figures responsible for them. What these adventurous souls came away with was often crazy‚ sometimes hilarious‚ and‚ on occasion‚ clearly insane. But it was just as often profound and‚ in more than one instance‚ possessed of a transformative‚ supernatural beauty.

The book is slanted towards writers and poets‚ but other studies‚ drawing on composers and artists‚ could tell a similar tale. Yet there is some fundamental link between magic and writing. We speak of magic spells. The grimoires of witchcraft have their roots in grammars. In ceremonial magic‚ reciting the correct word at the proper time determines the success or failure of the operation. Kabbalah‚ from which most of modern magic derives‚ is based almost exclusively on the secret meaning of language. And Thoth‚ the Egyptian god of writing‚ with whom the figure of Hermes Trismegistus‚ author of some 365 books‚ was linked‚ was also a god of magic. Clearly the power of words is shared by both the poet and the mage.

Welcome‚ then‚ to the world of the occult. And to the dreams and occasional nightmares inspired by its dark muse.

Note

1See “Blood-drinking devil worshippers face life for ritual Satanic killing.” Guardian 1 February 2002. On 30 January 2002‚ Daniel and Manuela Ruda were found guilty of the ritual slaying of their friend‚ Franck Hackert. The couple – 26 and 23 years old respectively – repeatedly hit 33 year old Hackert with a hammer‚ then stabbed him 66 times‚ before carving a pentagram on his chest‚ and collecting his blood to drink. When the police arrived a scalpel remained embedded in Hackert’s stomach‚ and his body lay beneath a banner which read “When Satan Lives.” The two explained that Hackert was an appropriate victim because of his mild temperament and fondness for the Beatles.

Enlightenment Occultism

It may seem a paradox to speak of an ‘Occult Enlightenment’. After all‚ the Enlightenment saw the triumph of reason and science over superstition and religious prejudice. But there is rarely a sudden and absolute disappearance of a practice or belief that has been a central part of human culture. This is especially true for magic‚ which has been around for millennia‚ and is still with us today. For the scientific account of things‚ the magical view had indeed been eclipsed. But for the popular mind‚ it was clearly present.

In the Paris of 1784‚ for example‚ alchemists‚ kabbalists‚ astrologers and other wonder workers could be found practically everywhere. Street venders sold engravings of the mysterious Comte de Saint-Germain. Booksellers hawked hefty volumes on the secret occult arts. Faith-healers and alchemical physicians did a brisk trade among the poorer classes. Newspapers ran accounts of extraordinary characters like Leon le Juif‚ who possessed a magical mirror‚ and M. Ruer‚ who had discovered the Philosopher’s Stone. Talking dogs‚ a child who could see underground‚ men who walked on water‚ and reports of strange creatures like the monster with a man’s face‚ lion’s mane‚ bull’s horns‚ snake’s scales and bat’s wings‚ peppered the daily press. Even eminent authorities like Restif de la Bretonne and Mirabeau accepted the idea that Frederick II had produced satyrs and centaurs via experiments with sodomy … Magic had so firm a grip on the French popular consciousness that‚ according to the historian Robert Darnton‚ the authorities found alchemists‚ sorcerers and fortune tellers much better placed as spies and police informants than their usual source‚ the priests.1 This fascination with occultism was not limited to the French‚ and a similar‚ if less extroverted appeal was exhibited across the channel‚ in England‚ as well as in other cities on the continent.

The popular press of Enlightenment France may strike us as not too dissimilar to today’s tabloids; but there remained other‚ less suspect areas in which a more serious interest in occultism prospered. One‚ the central one with which this book is concerned‚ was literature. The other was politics. The following selection on Enlightenment Occultism aims to give some idea of how these currents came together and helped shape the culture of the time.

Swedenborg

Perhaps the greatest occult figure of the 18th century was Emmanuel Swedenborg (1688–1772)‚ whose sober and methodical approach to the hidden mysteries set a standard too often ignored by later devotees. For most of his adult life a brilliant and prolific scientist‚ Swedenborg wrote an immense number of scientific studies on everything from metallurgy to the anatomy of the brain. He was also a statesman and assessor of Swedish mines‚ as well as an inventor of considerable talent: when given the task of transporting several ships inland across mountains‚ Swedenborg managed it successfully‚ well ahead of schedule. Many of his scientific insights were also well ahead of their time‚ and if for nothing else‚ he would be remembered for these today in his native Sweden. But in 1745‚ at the age of 57‚ something happened. A profound spiritual crisis involving weird prophetic dreams and shattering hypnagogic visions – including a visitation from Christ – shook Swedenborg’s strictly scientific consciousness and launched him on a new career as a cartographer of strange inner landscapes and occult worlds. He spoke with the dead‚ journeyed to other planets‚ and most strikingly‚ visited heaven and hell‚ returning to write an immense book about what he saw there. He wrote other immense books as well‚ most of them explaining in a dry‚ scholarly style the true meaning of the Bible. Swedenborg’s influence on western culture has been great; his readers have included Goethe‚ William Blake‚ Coleridge‚ Balzac‚ Baudelaire‚ Yeats‚ Strindberg and Arnold Schoenberg. What appealed to them was the air of sanity and common sense with which Swedenborg made even the most incredible pronouncements: that people on the moon speak from their stomachs‚ for example‚ or that Martians have two-tone faces. But in the same book he could speak of hell as a psychological condition‚ an idea which at the time seemed radical‚ but which today we can appreciate readily.

The standard account of Swedenborg’s career has his plunge into other worlds happening out of the blue‚ but Swedenborg’s initiation into the occult was not quite as precipitous as that. Before his voyages to heaven and hell‚ Swedenborg had devoted a considerable time to various occult practices: breath control‚ meditation‚ automatic writing‚ as well as visionary methods based on a form of sexual mysticism. Swedenborg’s links to London were many‚ and during an early visit in 1710‚ he may have joined a Jacobin Masonic Lodge. During a later visit‚ in 1744‚ there is reason to believe Swedenborg became a member of the Moravians‚ a secret society led by the eccentric Count Zinzendorf. Zinzendorf propagated a mystical political doctrine whose aim was to bring about the millennium by uniting Christians and Jews through kabbalism – a theme common to many Enlightenment mystics. Swedenborg was in London‚ staying in Wellclose Square‚ when his mystical experience occurred‚ and he may at that time have received some kabbalistic tutoring from Samuel Jacob Chayyim Falk‚ mentor perhaps to another Enlightenment occultist‚ Cagliostro. Falk‚ who was born into a Polish community of the followers of the ‘false Messiah’‚ Sabbatai Zevi‚ came to England in 1742‚ and set up shop – literally – on the old London Bridge‚ which in those days was lined with houses. Here he ran an alchemical laboratory‚ while maintaining from his home in the East End a secret occult school. Although Swedenborg later claimed not to have studied Kabbalah‚ he is known to have visited Jewish districts in Amsterdam‚ Hamburg‚ Prague and Rome‚ and evidence from his own writings suggests a familiarity with kabbalistic thought. Loving erotic union is part of the ritual worship of the Jewish mystical community‚ reflecting the original creative act of the Godhead‚ as well as the reunification of male and female energies. In his own work‚ Swedenborg emphasized that in heaven‚ angels continue to make love‚ and in the Latin version of his book Conjugal Love‚ Swedenborg spelled out in detail methods of breath control and meditation enabling a practitioner to maintain an erection and remain within an orgasmic trance for considerable periods.2

For the literary minded‚ one theme stands out from Swedenborg’s massive edifice: the idea of ‘correspondences’. This will turn up in a host of different ways in the centuries after his death‚ both as a central axiom of magical thinking as well as a core theme of symbolist poetry. Swedenborg argued that the physical world is rooted in a higher‚ spiritual world‚ and that correspondences exist between the two. In grasping the links between the physical and the spiritual worlds‚ we come closer to understanding the divine design. Swedenborg’s correspondences are perhaps the most thorough expression of the alchemical axiom ‘as above‚ so below’; they are also a powerful embodiment – literally – of the idea that man is a microcosm‚ containing within himself the entire cosmos. In an age moving inexorably toward the ‘trousered ape’ of Darwinian thought‚ Swedenborg argued conversely that man is truly made in the image of the divine‚ and spoke of the ultimate reality as Universal Man‚ the Anthropos‚ a theme central to kabbalistic and hermetic teachings.

In the 19th century‚ Baudelaire took the idea of correspondences and infused it with elements of synesthesia and the notion of the unity of the arts. But for his own time and immediately after‚ Swedenborg was known mostly as a prophet of a new age. The Church of the New Jerusalem‚ of which William Blake was a member‚ was founded after Swedenborg’s death and preached an apocalyptic doctrine that went well with the social and political ferment brewing across Europe.

Other central figures of the Occult Enlightenment‚ like Franz Anton Mesmer (1734–1815)‚ Giuseppe Balsamo (1743–1795) – better known as Cagliostro – and the Comte de Saint-Germain (1710–1784?) weren’t writers. Most balanced accounts admit there was something of the charlatan in all three. Yet it is difficult to accept this as a complete assessment of their careers‚ and some idea of their life and times is essential in any survey of magic in the 18th century.

Mesmer

Mesmer‚ who considered himself a strict scientist‚ began life in Iznang‚ a village on the German shore of Lake Constance. He studied at a Jesuit Theological School‚ and later registered as a law student in Vienna. He then turned his attention to medicine and in 1766 earned his medical degree with a dissertation on the influence of the planets on human diseases – evidence that ancient hermetic ideas were still respectable in the mid- 18th century. Little is known of Mesmer’s youth‚ and there is some question as to how he supported himself during his university days. In his monumental Discovery of the Unconscious‚ Henri F. Ellenberger speculates that Mesmer may have been helped by secret societies. If so‚ this would not be unusual; the late 18th century was a time rife with secret societies and occult organizations. As the Baroness d’ Oberkirch‚ an aristocratic socialite and intimate of mesmeric circles in Paris and Strasbourg‚ remarked: “Never‚ certainly‚ were Rosicrucians‚ alchemists‚ prophets‚ and everything related to them so numerous and so influential. Conversation turns almost entirely upon these matters; they fill everyone’s thoughts‚ they strike everyone’s imagination … Looking around us‚ we see only sorcerers‚ initiates‚ necromancers and prophets.”3

Mesmer’s financial problems were solved when he married a wealthy widow and set himself up in Vienna. He became a patron of the arts and his friends include Gluck‚ Haydn (both masons) and the Mozart family. Wolfgang Mozart – who as a Freemason and quite possibly a member of the Illuminati would be no stranger to secret societies – performed his first opera‚ Bastien und Bastienne‚ in Mesmer’s private theatre.4 Of Mesmer’s estate‚ Leopold‚ Wolfgang’s father‚ had this to say: “The garden is incomparable‚ with its avenues and statues‚ a theatre‚ a birdhouse‚ a dovecote and a belvedere on the summit.”5

Mesmer first hit upon his discovery while treating a Fräulein Oesterlin in 1773–1774. Fräulein Osterlin suffered from several severe symptoms‚ and Mesmer noted the cycle of their appearance and withdrawal. Mesmer was aware that doctors in England had experimented with treating patients with magnets‚ and decided to do the same. He attached magnets to Fräulein Oesterlin’s stomach and legs. She improved considerably. Mesmer came to believe that it was not the magnets alone that cured her‚ but his own animal magnetism. The age of mesmerism was born.

The basic tenets of mesmerism are that a subtle‚ physical fluid fills the universe and forms a connecting link between man‚ the earth and the stars; disease is the result of blockages of this fluid in the body; and techniques exist to enable these fluids to move more freely. The famous ‘mesmeric passes’ were attempts by practitioners to help the magnetism in its flow. It’s clear that while he didn’t consider himself an occultist‚ many occultists do in fact adhere to some form of Mesmer’s basic idea. A form of it is evident in much holistic healing. It is also clear that a very similar notion appeared in the 20th century in the form of Wilhelm Reich’s ‘orgone energy’. In Reich’s case‚ the relationship between an uninhibited‚ healthy flow of orgone energy and sex was unambiguous. In Mesmer’s case‚ the animal aspect of his magnetism raised a considerable number of eyebrows.

Strangely‚ Mesmer’s first official recognition came when he was asked by Prince-Elector Max Joseph of Bavaria to testify in an inquiry into the alleged cures of a faith healer‚ J.J. Gassner‚ who performed what could only be called exorcisms. Mesmer agreed that Gassners’ cures were authentic‚ but claimed spirits had nothing to do with it. Gassner merely succeeded through using his animal magnetism.

Like many others‚ Mesmer was drawn to Paris. He arrived in 1778‚ proclaiming his discovery. In the shadow of the Revolution‚ it was a strangely restless place. An unstable government‚ a catastrophic financial situation‚ widespread corruption‚ a weak king and a spendthrift queen‚ combined with reckless market speculation‚ gambling and loose morals to create an atmosphere of uncertainty and unease. A disastrous war with England led to a hysterical enthusiasm for the American War of Independence. It was a climate in which some sudden‚ radical shift was expected. Haughty‚ prickly and egotistical‚ Mesmer’s domineering personality and courtly manners – not to mention his animal magnetism – helped him gain access to Parisian society. He settled in a private mansion in Place Vendôme‚ and accounts of Mesmer’s success in curing a variety of ills percolated through society. ‘Mesmeric baths’ and a collective treatment‚ the banquet‚ became popular pastimes among the rich‚ ill-disposed and‚ often‚ hypochondriacal aristocracy. A mesmeric Society of Harmony was set up in 1783‚ adding to the already numerous secret societies; branches appeared throughout France‚ their aim to spread Mesmer’s teachings. By 1784‚ his success had peaked. There were many cures‚ and Mesmer had several champions‚ yet he eventually fell foul of the scientific establishment‚ as much for his alleged quackery as for his success. Yet‚ it has to be admitted that the frequent dishabille of Mesmer’s attractive female clients‚ the orgy-like atmosphere of a mesmeric salon‚ and the orgasmic-like ‘magnetic crisis’ that signalled the start of a cure‚ did not produce the appearance of a sober‚ scientific pursuit. After a damning examination by the Academy of Sciences‚ including‚ famously‚ Benjamin Franklin‚ and his embarrassing failure to cure the blind pianist Maria-Theresia Paradis‚ Mesmer’s fortunes took a downward turn. He was ridiculed in cartoons and satirical plays. Although he was always able to find clients‚ his star had waned‚ and he died‚ embittered and alone‚ in his native Austria at the age of 78. Although his name has become part of the language – we speak of being mesmerized – the credit for discovering what mesmerism actually was went to his one-time disciple‚ the Marquis de Puysegur‚ who‚ while magnetizing a patient discovered he had put him to sleep. The term hypnotism was coined half a century later by the Englishman James Braid.

Whatever Mesmer’s own fortunes‚ mesmerism took on a life of its own. In the hands of disciples like Nicolas Bergasse and Jacques-Pierre Brissot it took on a radical social character‚ propagating a variant of Rousseau’s noble savage‚ championing primitive nature over decadent society. In various other forms it combined with spiritualism‚ Swedenborgianism‚ freemasonry‚ and strains of Rosicrucianism to add an esoteric and occult flavour to the edgy political climate. Freemasonry especially‚ which spoke of spiritual egalitarianism and universal brotherhood‚ seemed to embody many of the ideals which would later erupt catastrophically in the French Revolution – hence the antipathy shown it by both the aristocracy and the Church. Freemasonry had enjoyed a revival in the earlier part of the century‚ and in a few decades had burgeoned into a tangled nest of competing and confusing secret societies‚ offering ever higher and more obscure grades – with some‚ like the Illuminati‚ following a mystical/political agenda. Along with competing lodges in England‚ Scotland and the continent‚ in 1777‚ it received an additional mystical jolt from perhaps the most flamboyant occultist of the lot‚ Cagliostro.

Cagliostro

Cagliostro started life in Sicily as Giuseppe Balsamo‚ although there is still some dispute over whether Cagliostro and Balsamo were in fact the same man. Like Rasputin‚ his name elicits a vague sense of someone sinister‚ yet few people have any concrete idea who or what he was. Carlyle’s tags of “King of Liars” and “Great Quack Face” are understandable‚ given that the sole source of any information about Cagliostro in Carlyle’s time was the biography written by his murderers‚ the Inquisition. Among other claims to fame‚ Cagliostro was the last person executed by the Inquisition‚ more than likely strangled by his jailer in the Castel San Leo in Rome. The picture of Cagliostro as a spiritual swindler even hit the big screen‚ when Orson Welles portrayed the Sicilian mountebank in the 1949 film‚ Black Magic. Even Goethe‚ no stranger to the occult sciences‚ satirized him in his play The Grand Copht. Yet if Cagliostro’s reputation is understandable‚ it is not entirely accurate. Like many occult masters‚ Cagliostro didn’t rule out fakery if it would secure his aims. Yet those aims were often noble‚ and there was something about his presence that suggested a certain dominance and personal force.6

Balsamo left home in his teens after being thrown out of his seminary school for improvising on a sacred text he was reading aloud to the class: he substituted the names of local prostitutes for those of saints. For the next twenty years he wandered across Europe‚ practising a variety of trades: forger‚ alchemist‚ copper smelter and travelling doctor touting a borax-based skin lotion. The wandering life was common to many hermetic philosophers: Paracelsus’ travels are legendary‚ as were Cornelius Agrippa’s‚ and at some point during his travels‚ Balsamo met another 18th century occultist‚ the celebrated rake‚ Giovanni Jacopo Casanova. (Decades later‚ in his declining years‚ Casanova spitefully recalled Cagliostro as ‘badly hung’.) Up until his thirty-fourth year there is little to distinguish Balsamo from the other adventurers who scrambled across Europe‚ living by their wits and trusting in the credulity and ennui of the well-heeled for their livelihood. Then‚ on a visit to London in 1776‚ Balsamo changed his name to Cagliostro and he literally became a different person. The central cause of this transformation was freemasonry.

Balsamo had always been attracted to the occult – his days as a travelling alchemist say as much. It is even possible that he may have met Swedenborg during his first visit to London in 1772; although in his last days by then‚ Swedenborg was lucid until his death‚ the date and time of which‚ incidentally‚ he accurately predicted. Certainly by his next visit in 1776 Cagliostro was frequenting Swedenborgian circles‚ and possibly visiting the kabbalist Falk. But after being admitted to the Esperance Lodge of Freemasons‚ on 12 April 1777 at the King’s Head on Gerrard Street in Soho‚ he adopted freemasonry as his life’s mission. He soon developed a curious new form of Masonic initiation‚ the so-called Egyptian Rite. Accounts differ as to how he came across this. Some say he was initiated into the Egyptian Rite by the Comte de Saint- Germain. Better evidence suggests that the ubiquitous Falk was responsible. Cagliostro himself claimed that during a visit to London he discovered in a bookstall a manuscript arguing the Egyptian origins of freemasonry. This trope of the magical book appearing strangely at the right moment will be repeated several times in the history of magic: the ‘editor’ of Bulwer-Lytton’s Zanoni meets a Rosicrucian in a Covent Garden bookshop‚ the authenticity of the Hermetic order of the Golden Dawn stemmed from a bookstall in Farringdon Road‚ and Gustav Meyrink is saved from suicide by a magical pamphlet sliding under his door. Whether or not the book actually existed seems irrelevant. Cagliostro’s belief in his Egyptian Rite was unshakeable‚ his oratorical gifts persuasive; he had found his life’s calling‚ as well as an interesting way to make a living. Calling himself the Grand Copht – after the prophet Enoch‚ supposed founder of Egyptian masonry – Cagliostro took to the roads‚ doing the occult circuit‚ bringing a higher‚ more inspiring initiation into what had become for many a routine social club.

Cagliostro was very successful. Entering Venice‚ Berlin‚ Leipzig and St. Petersburg in his black coach covered in kabbalistic symbols‚ he must have been an impressive sight‚ as he headed for the local Masonic lodges. Yet not everyone was satisfied with his plan to heal the rifts and schisms in the craft. He received some resistance in 1784‚ during the general Convent of Freemasons called together in Paris by the lodge ‘Les Amis Reunis’‚ otherwise known as the Philalethes‚ or ‘lovers of truth’. Cagliostro’s demands that all of the lodges recognize the preeminence of his Egyptian Rite did not go down well‚ nor did his request that the Philalethes destroy all their records meet with much approval.

Whatever its source‚ Cagliostro’s motives for promulgating the Egyptian Rite were noble‚ and for all their occult character‚ in keeping with Enlightenment ideals of egalitarianism and brotherhood. Like Zinzendorf and Falk‚ who was known to associate freely with Christians‚ Cagliostro’s aim was to unite disparate groups under a common Masonic goal: the regeneration of mankind. With this in view‚ the Egyptian Rite admitted Jews and‚ in a radical break with Masonic tradition‚ women as well.

As well as a Mason‚ Cagliostro was something of a healer‚ and the transformation from fly-by-night adventurer to the Grand Copht seemed to have increased his powers consider ably. Unlike Mesmer‚ who was criticized for treating only wealthy patients and for ignoring the needy‚ Cagliostro often refused to serve the rich. In European capitals‚ he would head to the poor district‚ take humble lodgings‚ distribute money and treat the sick‚ refusing any payment. In his displays of clairvoyance‚ he often employed children as mediums‚ and it is true he resorted to trickery on occasion. Yet‚ there are numerous accounts of his accuracy. Baroness D’Oberkirch‚ who was not one of his supporters‚ admitted that he was right about several items he communicated to her at their first meeting‚ facts which he could not have known; and later‚ while in Strasbourg‚ when he announced to her the death of the Empress of Austria‚ the news of the empress’s demise only arrived three days later. Other evidence of Cagliostro’s powers was given by the Marshall von Medem‚ the orientalist Count de Gebelin and the Cardinal Rohan.

Mention of Rohan brings us to the ‘Diamond Necklace Affair’. Although Cagliostro played an insignificant part in the swindle‚ he was shattered by it. When the scandal broke‚ his reputation was in shreds‚ and his magnificent self-confidence never recovered. He defended himself‚ and was acquitted‚ but this was only after a year in the Bastille awaiting trial. The impression he made destroyed his reputation. In court he launched into a long soliloquy‚ speaking of his aristocratic parentage‚ calling himself “a noble voyager‚ Nature’s unfortunate child.” This drew laughter‚ not sympathy‚ and with his long hair and green taffeta coat‚ he cut a ridiculous figure. His life story‚ complete with accounts of his mystic travels in Asia‚ Africa and Arabia failed to impress‚ and he was banished from France.

Cagliostro became a wanderer again‚ but his bad publicity preceded him and he was thrown out of practically every place he sought refuge. Strangely‚ in London‚ where his Egyptian Rite did not draw many initiates‚ he wrote a Letter to the French People. It sold well in Paris‚ and seems in some ways to predict the coming deluge. He speaks of not returning to Paris until the Bastille is torn down‚ and hints at a drastic change in government. It was perhaps these prophecies that made the Vatican regard him as a dangerous political revolution. Attempting to promote freemasonry in Rome‚ Cagliostro was arrested and charged with plotting to overthrow the Church‚ something that the Illuminati indeed had in mind. In 1789 he was thrown into prison. At the age of 52‚ he was executed. Reports of his death were not believed‚ and in 1797‚ when French soldiers captured the San Leo prison‚ they searched for him. It was not until a report ordered by Napoleon confirmed his death that the world finally accepted that the Grand Copht was gone.

Le Comte de Saint Germain

In the 18th century wit‚ a knack for conversation‚ an ingratiating manner and the ability to seem perpetually fascinating‚ were as much in demand as kabbalistic knowledge and alchemical skill. The man who was known as the Count of Saint-Germain‚ or le Comte de Saint-Germain‚ or‚ on occasion‚ ‘der Wundermann’‚ had these qualities and‚ like many occultists who followed him‚ he purposely encouraged an air of mystery about his past. Little is known of his origins. He may or may not have been born in 1710 in Portugal‚ into a family of Sephardic Jews. It’s also possible that he was Frances Ragoczy‚ a Transylvanian prince who died in Schleswig- Holstein‚ Germany‚ in 1784‚ only to be seen five years later‚ in 1789‚ in Paris‚ during the Revolution. Lastly‚ he may still be alive today‚ secure in a Himalayan inner sanctum‚ awaiting the right moment for his return. Certainly since the 19th century he has become‚ like the Wandering Jew‚ a figure of myth‚ restored and revamped in different fashions to fill a place in various occult pantheons. His central occult claim was to have perfected the alchemical elixir vitae‚ which cured all ills and bestowed immortality. Madame Blavatsky included him among her Tibetan masters‚ and in more recent years the right-wing American spiritual teacher Elizabeth Clare Prophet dusted off the count and employed him as spokesman for her less than inspiring pronouncements. Indeed‚ if the count were alive today‚ he would more than likely find a comfortable niche for himself as a talk show host‚ or at least a frequent guest among those who are famous for being famous.

The man called Saint-Germain did possess a genuine charm and culture‚ as well as an impressive knowledge of chemistry and history‚ which allowed him to speak with authority both on alchemy and the past‚ and this in a way that suggested he actually did witness the events in question. He seemed to always dress in black and white‚ was an accomplished violinist with a good singing voice‚ had a fluent command of several European languages‚ and a knack for perfecting dyes for silk and leather. That he could also transform base metals into gold‚ remove flaws from diamonds‚ had‚ two thousand years earlier‚ invented freemasonry and hence was much older than he looked are more doubtful claims. Saint-Germain’s youthful appearance may have been a result of a practice that probably accounts for his habit of not eating at the many banquets and feasts he nevertheless enlivened with his wit and acumen. It is more than likely that he was a vegetarian and genuinely did not relish the ample portions that made up the well-heeled 18th century menu. He claimed to eat only a special elixir that he prepared himself‚ but it is also possible that he ate a normal meal beforehand unobserved.

The first mention of Saint-Germain is in a letter from Horace Walpole in 1743‚ where he remarks of his appearance in London. Soon after he was expelled from England on suspicion of being a spy for the Stuart pretenders. He then went to France and became a favourite of Louis XV‚ more than likely through the influence of Madame de Pompadour. Saint-Germain was an accomplished ladies’ man; he would often make a present of an eau de toilette that he claimed prevented wrinkles‚ saying it was a small token of his esteem. Like Casanova‚ who thought him a charlatan (but admired his skill with the female sex) and Cagliostro – who may have received the Egyptian Rite from him – Saint-Germain floated across Europe‚ working as a magician‚ wit and spy. He was known in Vienna as a confidant of Counts Zabor and Lobkowitz‚ and it was in their company that he met and befriended the French Marshal de Belle-Isle‚ who brought him to France. Before meeting Louis XV‚ he moved to Holland and called himself Count Surmount; there he set up several successful factories for the ennobling of metals. In 1762 he arrived in St. Petersburg‚ and became involved in the conspiracy to make Catherine the Great Queen of Russia. He became a great friend of Count Alexei Orlov‚ and was even made a Russian general‚ calling himself General Welldone – whether in jest or earnest is unknown. In Nuremberg in 1774 he received the support of the Margrave of Nuremberg‚ Charles Alexander‚ and it was here that the story of his being Prince Ragoczy began. When the margrave discovered that this particular Prince Ragoczy was dead‚ along with his brothers‚ Saint- Germain had to move on. He was by now in his sixties. Luck was with him‚ and in 1779 he came under the protection of the landgrave Charles of Hesse-Cassel. At the landgrave’s castle in Schleswig-Holstein‚ Saint-Germain tutored his patron in the occult sciences‚ a position he held for five years‚ until his death – or most recent disappearance – in 1784.

Descriptions of Saint-Germain range from “the completest charlatan‚ fool‚ rattle-pate‚ windbag and swindler” (Count Warnstedt)‚ to “perhaps one of the greatest sages who ever lived” (Charles of Hesse-Cassel)‚ to “a highly gifted man with a very alert mind” who nevertheless was “completely without judgment” and who gained his notoriety through “the lowest and basest flattery of which a man is capable …” (Count Alvensleben‚ Prussian Ambassador to Dresden). He was‚ it seems‚ a man of considerable culture and wit‚ with a sincere interest in chemistry‚ who used the mystification of the occult to open doors that may otherwise have remained closed. What actual contribution he made to the hermetic arts‚ however‚ is unclear.

The Unknown Philosopher

The life of Louis Claude de Saint-Martin had none of the eventfulness of Mesmer or Cagliostro‚ and although he moved among them‚ he did not try to ingratiate himself with the aristocracy as did Saint-Germain. Saint-Martin was a true hermetic philosopher‚ deeply concerned with mankind’s spiritual destiny‚ a profoundly serious individual. Like Swedenborg‚ he had a message. He is not out to impress or mystify‚ but to educate and inspire. His central theme is one that will blossom with the Romantics of the next generation. Man‚ he tells us‚ is really a god‚ or at least has the potential to be one‚ a belief he shared with his contemporary William Blake. With Blake‚ Saint-Martin believed that the external‚ physical world of space and time is the result of some primeval catastrophe‚ a ‘fall’ from our inherent divinity‚ into the limits of finitude. And like Blake‚ Saint-Martin sees the magician’s task as the opening of the doors of perception‚ and a return to our birthright.

Louis Claude de Saint-Martin was born in Amboise‚ in the province of Touraine on 18 January 1743. His parents were pious Catholics‚ and although his mother died a few days after his birth‚ his stepmother seems to have taken her place admirably‚ and Saint-Martin remained devoted to her throughout his life. A frail‚ delicate child – he once remarked that a deficiency in his astral parts accounted for his ill-health – a book on self-knowledge that he read in his youth set him on the mystic path. Reading it he embarked on a life-long detachment from the world‚ and took his first steps on a voyage into the interior. He studied at the College of Pontlevoi‚ his father having in mind for him a career in law. Although Saint- Martin completed his studies‚ he felt no attraction to the bar‚ and convinced his father to allow him to enter military life. An influential relative secured a lieutenant’s commission in the regiment of Foix. Army life may seem an unusual choice for a mystic‚ particularly a fragile one‚ but in 1766‚ after the Seven Years War and the Treaty of Versailles‚ Europe was at peace‚ and would remain so for some time‚ and Saint-Martin found ample time to pursue his studies in philosophy and religion.

It was in 1767‚ while stationed at Bordeaux‚ that he met the man who would change his life. Don Martines de Pasqually de la Tour – otherwise known as Martinez Pasquales – was a follower of Swedenborg‚ a Rosicrucian‚ and the head of an order of Masonic illuminism known as the Elect Cohens – Cohen being Hebrew for priest. Pasqually’s background is vague: Spanish or Portuguese‚ it is uncertain if he was a Christian or a Jew. He was‚ however‚ a serious occultist‚ and his Order of the Elect Cohens practised a variant of ceremonial magic that involved number mysticism‚ kabbalism and a form of theurgy‚ the calling down or invoking of god forms. His meeting with Pasqually had the effect on Saint-Martin that freemasonry had on Cagliostro: he had found his life’s calling. In 1771 he left the military and devoted the rest of his life to preaching first Pasqually’s occult doctrine‚ and then his own form of theosophical wisdom. For the next few years‚ Saint-Martin travelled across France‚ visiting Paris‚ Lyons and Bordeaux; during this time he communicated with other Martinists‚ including the novelist Jacques Cazotte.

In 1772 Pasqually left France for St. Domingo‚ where‚ in 1774‚ he died in Port-au-Prince. The Martinists were left adrift‚ Pasqually failing to initiate them into the final reaches of their hierarchy. Rather than despair‚ Saint-Martin wrote the first of a number of books‚ Of Errors and of Truth‚ and in his social life he tried to pass on the truths of mysticism‚ while revealing the errors of the atheistic philosophy propagated by Voltaire and the Encyclopedists. These were the years of Cagliostro and Mesmer‚ of Jean Baptiste Willermoz and Lavater.

Saint-Martin moved among the aristocracy‚ and became involved with mesmeric circles in Lyons and Paris. The Lyons mesmerists were especially rich in occult influences‚ having in their midst Rosicrucians‚ Swedenborgians‚ alchemists and kabbalists. Willermoz‚ Saint-Martin’s close friend‚ a member of practically every secret society of the time‚ believed he received secret messages from God‚ through the medium of mesmeric somnambulists. Saint-Martin helped Willermoz decode these messages‚ and he was also helpful to Mesmer’s important disciple‚ Puysegur. Saint-Martin joined the Parisian Society of Harmony in 1784‚ but felt that Mesmer’s emphasis on the physical action of his fluids strayed dangerously close to materialism‚ and that this could attract the attention of unwanted astral spirits.

Saint-Martin decided that the anxious climate of the time suggested caution. During his lifetime he published his works under the pseudonym of ‘the Unknown Philosopher.’ His biographer and interpreter A.E. Waite remarks that his personal safety was a consideration: this was‚ after all‚ the time of the Great Terror. But Saint-Martin’s membership of secret societies was also a reason. The ruse was pointless‚ and the identity of the Unknown Philosopher was soon common knowledge. Like other occult seekers‚ Saint-Martin travelled abroad‚ visiting Italy‚ Russia‚ Strasbourg and London‚ where he met William Law and the astronomer Herschel. August 10 1792 found him in Paris‚ where “the streets near the house I was in were a field of battle; the house itself a hospital where the wounded were brought.” He had already been made penniless by the Revolution and‚ in 1794‚ when an edict exiled the nobility from Paris‚ he returned to his birth place‚ Amboise. His time there was spent trying to wed his political concerns with his spiritual insights.

Saint-Martin’s last years were spent in the study of Jacob Boehme‚ the ‘Teutonic Theosopher’ whose ideas influenced people like William Blake and Hegel. A 17th century cobbler‚ Boehme had a mystical experience staring at the sunlight reflected on a pewter dish. He then claimed to see the ‘signature’ of things and went on to write weighty tomes in an obscure alchemical language. Dark and profound‚ Saint- Martin worked at unifying Boehme’s vision with his earlier Martinist doctrines. He seemed to have sensed that his last days were upon him‚ and writing to the end‚ after a brief fit of apoplexy‚ he died on 13 October 1803. Followers of his ideas came to be called Martinists as well‚ causing some confusion among occult historians.

Saint-Martin’s central theme is that mankind’s mission is to ‘repair’ the world. A similar doctrine appears in the Kabbalah‚ in which creation is the result of an overflowing of the sephiroth of the Tree of Life. Our job is to somehow clear up the mess. Walter Benjamin‚ an unorthodox kabbalist with Marxist leanings‚ saw history as an unending series of accidents‚ rather like an infinite pile-up on some eternal motorway. Saint-Martin would have agreed‚ but would not have shared Benjamin’s confidence in Marxist ideology; rather he counted on our capacity to make contact with our pre-lapsarian source. Tolstoy‚ August Strindberg and O.V. Milosz were among his readers. Perhaps A.E. Waite provides the best description of the Unknown Philosopher:

The Unknown Philosopher … was a man of many friends‚ of strong attachments … Saint-Martin is almost the only mystic who was also in his way a politician‚ with a scheme for the reconstruction of society; an amateur in music; an apprentice in poetry; a connoisseur in belles lettres; a critic of his contemporaries; an observer of his times; a physician of souls truly‚ but in that capacity with his finger always on the pulse of the world.

Karl Von Eckharthausen

Karl Von Eckharthausen‚ who‚ with Saint-Martin and Kirchberger‚ Baron de Liebistorf‚ carried on one of the most detailed and enlightening occult correspondences of the time‚ is little known or read today. Aside from students of European mysticism and Christian theosophy‚ the group among whom Eckharthausen receives passing interest are the readers of the notorious Aleister Crowley‚ the most celebrated – if that is the correct word – magician of the 20th century. It was in fact Eckharthausen’s book The Cloud upon the Sanctuary that set Crowley off on his colourful‚ if morally ambiguous career. Crowley first came across the notion of a hidden community of spiritual adepts from reading A.E. Waite’s Book of Black Magic and Pacts; in it‚ Waite refers obscurely to such a secret society. Crowley wrote to Waite‚ asking for more information. Waite suggested reading Eckharthausen. Crowley did. In his ‘autohagiography’‚ The Confessions of Aleister Crowley‚ the Great Beast remarks that:

The Cloud upon the Sanctuary told me of a secret community of saints in possession of every spiritual grace‚ of the keys to the treasure of nature‚ and of moral emancipation such that there was no intolerance or unkindness … their one passion was to bring mankind into the sphere of their own sublimity … I was absorbed in The Cloud upon the Sanctuary‚ reading it again and again‚ without being put off by the pharisaical‚ priggish and pithecantropoid notes of its translator …

What Eckharthausen himself might have thought of this endorsement is unknown‚ but one assumes he wouldn’t have cherished the idea that as ‘satanic’ a figure as Crowley was inspired by his devotional tract. What attracted Crowley was the idea of a secret‚ hidden Church‚ a congregation of the elect‚ an inner circle of adepts‚ devoted to the noble cause of truth. The idea appealed to Crowley’s taste for mysteries‚ as well as his own penchant for elitism‚ a sensibility shared by many occultists. Crowley himself would soon join the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn; kicked out of that‚ he became head of another occult organization‚ the O.T.O.‚ or Order Templi Orientis‚ then started one of his own‚ the Argentinum Astrum‚ or Silver Star. Crowley was not the only occult thinker moved by such a notion. Madame Blavatsky spoke of the Hidden Masters‚ secure in their Himalayan stronghold‚ steering man in his spiritual evolution. Ever since the Rosicrucians in the 17th century‚ the notion of some hidden brotherhood‚ devoted to mankind’s spiritual growth‚ has been a key theme of occultist thought. In the secret society ridden 18th century‚ Eckharthausen’s tract hit a very responsive nerve. And like the Rosicrucian myth‚ whether such a hidden brotherhood really existed or not was unimportant: people interested in its existence acted as if it did.

Eckharthausen’s brotherhood‚ however‚ differed from the Rosicrucians in one respect. Where the authors of the Fama Fraternitas and other Rosicrucian tracts spoke of their brotherhood as an actual body‚ made up of definite members‚ as any other kind of society would be‚ Eckharthausen makes clear that his hidden Church is not some inner circle of‚ say‚ the exterior Catholic Church‚ or some society like the Freemasons. It is much more a community of like-minded souls‚ an idea found in Swedenborg and in 20th century occultists like P.D. Ouspensky‚ who‚ in his spiritual travels‚ came upon a variety of individuals bearing the marks of a dawning cosmic consciousness. Like Ouspensky‚ for Eckharthausen‚ this shift in consciousness from the mundane to the mystical is both the aim of his spiritual elect‚ and the sign of membership within it.

Karl Von Eckharthausen was born on 28 June 1752 at the Castle of Haimbhausen in Bavaria. Like Saint-Martin‚ he lost his mother at birth‚ but Eckharthausen’s appearance in the world was a source of double sorrow. He was an illegitimate child‚ his mother the daughter of the overseer of the estate. His father‚ the count‚ was nevertheless very affectionate‚ treated him well‚ and gave him a fine upbringing and education. But his double loss of mother and legitimacy instilled in Karl a lingering melancholy‚ and‚ again like Saint-Martin‚ he early on developed a retiring attitude to the world‚ and a profound sense of detachment from it.

Eckharthausen studied at Munich‚ then went to Ingoldstadt to pursue philosophy and law. As we will see‚ Ingoldstadt was the base for Adam Weishaupt’s notorious Masonic splinter group‚ the Illuminati. Weishaupt was a professor of canonical law at the university‚ and one wonders if Eckharthausen came into contact with Weishaupt or was‚ indeed‚ one of his students. The Illuminati were a kind of secret society behind the secret societies‚ and it is not too far-fetched to see in Eckharthausen’s hidden Church‚ a more spiritual version of Weishaupt’s invisible brotherhood. Eckharthausen’s concerns were more religious than political‚ and although he speaks of a “theocratic republic‚” which will one day be‚ “Regent Mother of the whole world‚” Weishaupt’s Enlightenment rationalism would have repelled Eckharthausen’s mystical temperament.

Karl’s father procured for him the title of Aulic Councillor‚ and in 1780 he became censor at the Library of Munich – a perhaps enviable position for a writer – then in 1784‚ Keeper of the Archives of the Electoral House. According to A.E. Waite‚ Eckharthausen produced sixty-nine works‚ turning his hand to drama‚ politics‚ religion‚ history‚ art criticism‚ as well as his mystical and occult books. Few of these‚ if any‚ are read today‚ and in his own lifetime‚ he was most famous for a handbook of Catholic prayers entitled God is Purest Love. This went into some sixty editions in Germany and was translated into several European languages‚ as well as Church Latin. His influence on the mystical currents of his time was considerable. Saint-Martin remarked that he was more interested in Eckharthausen than he could express; among other things‚ the two shared a profound interest in number mysticism‚ a practice that occupied Saint-Martin in his early days with Martines de Pasqually‚ and to which he returned in the last decade of his life. And their mutual correspondent‚ Baron Kirchberger‚ writing to Saint-Martin‚ spoke of Eckharthausen as “a man of immense reading and wonderful fertility … an extraordinary personage.” It was to Kirchberger’s great regret that a proposed meeting at the Swiss frontier had to be called off on account of the Councillor’s health. At their meeting Kirchberger hoped to receive a communication of the Lost Word from Eckharthausen‚ who‚ we assume‚ had found it. Any information on what may have passed between them is‚ like the word itself‚ lost. Amiable‚ charitable‚ highly cultured and devout‚ Eckharthausen married three times‚ had several children‚ and died‚ after a painful illness‚ on 13 May 1813.

William Beckford

Along with mystical politics and the regeneration of the world‚ occultism during the Enlightenment also took on a less idealistic character and appeared in ways more concerned with aesthetics and the search for exotic and sensational forms of entertainment than with revelation. One such form was the Gothic novel. Supernatural entities‚ haunted castles‚ secret societies and evil sorcerers were the stock in trade of pioneers like Walpole and of later contributors like Radcliffe and Lewis. One early and singularly brilliant work in the genre that combined elements of occultism‚ the satanic and the taste for ‘the East’ that had obsessed Europe after the publication of Antoine Galland’s French translation of The Arabian Nights in 1717 was William Beckford’s Vathek (1786). Written in French allegedly in a Kerouac-like burst of inspiration‚ Vathek brings together a variety of dark fascinations that would later become familiar to late 19th century decadents: diabolism‚ sadomasochism and other forms of perverse sex‚ orientalism‚ extravagant hedonism‚ ennui and an all-around interest in the forbidden. Where occultists like Cagliostro saw in ‘the East’ a spiritual locale offering a greater tolerance than Catholicism‚ for Beckford‚ ‘the East’ was the source of luxurious and inevitably debilitating pleasures. The erotic‚ the strange and the exquisite were the touchstones of Beckford’s East‚ much more so than any transcendental wisdom. In the 19th century‚ this strain of exotic occultism would be taken up most vigorously‚ if there is such a thing as vigorous decadence‚ by the French Romantics.

William Beckford (1760–1844) became the richest young man in England when his father died in 1770. The ten year old Beckford inherited a fortune made in plantations in the West Indies. Beckford‚ who travelled through Europe and produced a work of travel writing‚ Italy‚ with Sketches of Spain and Portugal‚ never visited the source of his wealth‚ and this lacuna in his education caused him little regret. Like his idealized self-image the Caliph Vathek‚ Beckford was more concerned with spending his fortune than with appreciating the roots of it. Educated by tutors‚ Beckford’s first steps in his journey to the east came through the influence of the artist Alexander Cozens. Born in St. Petersburg and trained in Rome‚ Cozens had opened a drawing academy at Bath‚ near Fonthill‚ Beckford’s family seat and site of Fonthill Abbey‚ Beckford’s fabled Gothic folly. Cozens taught Beckford drawing – his sketches can be found in his travel writings – but more important for a history of occultism‚ he introduced the young heir to the delights of The Arabian Nights. To a young man who could have practically anything‚ the exotic atmosphere of fantasy‚ sensuality‚ criminality‚ drugs and magic made a powerful impression‚ and in many ways Beckford spent the rest of his long life living out the consequences of this early influence.

Part of Beckford’s excursions into decadence included‚ at the age of 17‚ an illicit attachment to William Courtenay‚ a ten year old boy. (That their names were the same suggests a certain narcissism.) Beckford’s passion had to simmer at a distance‚ however‚ and Courtenay met some competition from the advances of Louisa Beckford‚ wife of Beckford’s cousin Peter. Consummation of both affairs was difficult‚ though not impossible. One successful venture was a pagan coming of age party that Beckford planned for himself at Christmas in 1781. Like a mini-version of De Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom‚ Beckford‚ Louisa‚ Courtenay – secured through the help of Cozens – and a handful of other young and willing participants‚ locked themselves away for three days and three nights in the millionaire’s estate; this birthday rave eventually became the inspiration for Vathek. Along with rare foods‚ rich wines‚ incense-clouded rooms‚ forbidden sex and the occasional magical ritual‚ part of Beckford’s weekend pleasure dome included the ‘Eidophysikon’ of Philip James de Loutherbourg‚ an Enlightenment version of a multi-media display or ‘light show’. De Loutherberg was a classically trained painter championed by Diderot; among other accomplishments he was elected to the Royal Academy at the age of 22. He later worked for David Garrick’s Theatre in Drury Lane where he laid the foundations for modern scene-painting and what are since called special effects. De Loutherberg made the occult rounds: he did a portrait of Swedenborg‚ was a follower of Mesmer‚ and had met Cagliostro in 1783 at a Masonic lodge in Strasbourg‚ later becoming an initiate of his Egyptian Rite. De Loutherberg settled in London in 1785‚ lived in Hammersmith and devoted himself to mesmerism and the pursuit of the Philosopher’s Stone; among other occult notables‚ Cagliostro was one of his guests.

After his wild weekend‚ Beckford’s taste for oriental magic‚ as well as for sodomy and adultery‚ became well known. He frequented occult circles in London and Paris‚ knew the Swedenborgian violinist François-Hippolyte Barthelemon and the kabbalistic painter Richard Cosway. Beckford was in Paris for the early part of the crucial occult year of 1784‚ when the mystical tide was still rising. Later‚ the current would begin to ebb with Mesmer’s fall‚ the growing antipathy to freemasonry‚ and Cagliostro’s embroilment in the ‘Diamond Necklace Affair’. Yet‚ aside from some titillating dabbling‚ Beckford’s contact with the occult was for the most part superficial. His one real encounter proved unsettling and closed the door on any future initiations. During his visit to Paris in 1781‚ Beckford made the acquaintance of the architect Charles- Nicholas Ledoux. Ledoux was a Freemason and practising occultist‚ and his architectural style ran to the fantastic. In 1784‚ he and Beckford renewed their acquaintance‚ and Ledoux offered to show Beckford his crowning achievement‚ “the most sumptuous apartment I ever erected.” Beckford’s own architectural taste was outré and he was eager to see Ledoux’s handiwork. After an hour’s drive from Paris they arrived at a hidden chateau. Ledoux had explained that his client’s interests were “not of the common world” and that his own appearance was “very peculiar.”

After passing through several chambers‚ Beckford reached a splendid salon‚ and there Ledoux introduced him to an old man. Though of small stature‚ he had a powerful presence‚ and his odd and antique dress piqued Beckford’s interest. The old man asked Beckford to regard the many works of art that adorned the room. Beckford was intrigued by a large bronze cistern‚ resting on a green porphyry base; it was filled to the brim with water. After studying it for a few moments‚ something peculiar began to happen.

As I stood contemplating the last gleams of a ruddy sunset reflected on its placid surface (Beckford wrote in a letter to Louisa) the old man‚ risen at length from his stately chair‚ approached and no sooner had he drawn near‚ than the water becoming agitated rose up in waves. Upon the gleaming surface of the undulating fluid‚ flitted by a succession of ghastly shadows‚ somewhat resembling … the human form in its last agonies of dissolution …

The images moved quickly‚ but Beckford had seen enough to produce a genuine frisson. He later told Louisa that what he had seen in Ledoux’s apartment reduced “to insignificance all Loutherberg’s specious wonders‚” and that the phantasmagoria “froze” his “young blood.” His reactions‚ however‚ did not ingratiate him with Ledoux and the mysterious old man. After remarking that “This is most frightfully extraordinary‚” a shaken Beckford was led away‚ apparently having failed the test. Passing out of the inner sanctum‚ Beckford caught a glimpse of a candle-lit chamber‚ and heard the low sound of voices chanting. When asked what was taking place‚ an impassive Ledoux remarked that the place was dedicated to a “high‚ but not entirely religious purpose.” It’s conceivable‚ as Joscelyn Godwin speculates in The Theosophical Enlightenment‚ that Ledoux‚ through Loutherberg‚ saw Beckford as a potential ally – or more likely patron – of some secret society‚ and brought him to the threshold of initiation. Beckford‚ however‚ was an inveterate dilettante‚ and to him henceforth the portal was closed. After this unsettling experience‚ Beckford apparently lost all interest in the occult.

Jacques Cazotte