The Magician of the Orme V -The Vessel and the Lake

In The Lesser Key of Solomon my attention was arrested by the foundation story in which Solomon imprisoned the 72 spirits in a a brazen vessel with a magical seal and threw it into the Lake of Babylon. Unfortunately, the people of Babylon, hungry to see its wonders and suspecting ‘to find great store of treasure within’, found it, broke it open, and let the demons out to return to their original places. The order of the demons in the text relates to the order in which they were imprisoned. The ‘Vessel of Brass’ and its seal are depicted in the text with instructions for making the seal.

Vessel of Brass

Immediately I thought of the similarities with the Cauldron of the King of Annwn. This magical vessel is described in ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ as also being intricately decorated having a ‘dark trim and pearls’. It is likely to have been made of brass as the people of Annwn/fairies dislike iron. In the Second Branch of The Mabinogion it is brought from a lake in Ireland by two monstrous giants. It is later used by Matholhwch, King of Ireland, to bring dead warriors back to life. Speechless, near-demonic, their battle with the British brings devastation to Ireland – only five women remain  in caves in the wild. It is likewise deleterious for the British – only seven warriors survive.

Gwyn ap Nudd, a King of Annwn, and keeper of the cauldron is described in Culhwch and Olwen as containing the fury of the ‘devils’ of Annwn in order to prevent their destruction of the world. Could it be possible that he was seen as containing them not only in his realm but in the cauldron which, when not being used to boil the meat of the brave* at his fairy feast, was kept carefully sealed?

Could it be possible that, like Solomon, the Magician of the Orme had somehow learned the names of the spirits of Annwn who are contained in the cauldron and how to summon and to command them? That he had attempted to create his own cauldron in imitation of the King of Annwn’s to seal them in? And this is the information contained in ‘The Book the Living Hand’? That, as always, when magicians have the hubris to think they can control spirits who can only truly be contained by the gods, something had gone wrong, and this led to him cutting off his hand to seal it shut?

Whether the Magician of the Orme and his book existed or not I think I have the seeds of a story that remains to be told…

*In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ we are told the cauldron ‘does not boil a coward’s food, it has not been destined to do so’. The food within may be the flesh of Twrch Trwyth ‘Chief of Boars’ a human shapeshifter hunted by Gwyn. Eating his flesh may represent consuming ancestral wisdom.

The Magician of the Orme IV – Summoning Spirits

After my research had confirmed the possibility of the existence of a ‘Magician of the Orme’ who used book magic to summon the fairies/spirits of Annwn in seventeenth century Wales, I began looking at the origins of this practice. Intuitively it felt at odds with the Brythonic fairy tradition, which is generally based in relationship rather than coercion.

The practice of summoning spirits has ancient roots in Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Hebraic, and Graeco-Roman traditions. We find these influences in Roman Gaul, where lead tablets were found invoking Andedion ‘underworld god(s)’ and andernon ‘underworld spirits’ along with the named Gallo-Brythonic deities Maponos Avernatis and Lugus for aid in battle.

In an underground shrine in Chartres was found a pottery vessel used for incense with script on each of its four panels. Beneath the names of the cardinal points ‘oriens (East), meridie (South), occidens (West), and septentrio (North) were listed the names of spirits – Echa, Aha, Bru, Stna, Bros, Dru, Chor, (Dr)ax,  (flange), Halcemedme, Halchehalar, Halcemedme’. They were invoked for blessings on three ritual objects.

As Christianity became the dominant religion the pagan deities were demonised.  In the medieval and renaissance periods grimoires rose to popularity throughout Europe. Many of these contained long lists of ‘spirits’ or ‘demons’, some of whom originated from pre-Christian gods, along with instructions on how to summon and command them.

The most influential were the Solomonic Clavicles. These date to the fourteenth century but are based on The Testament of Solomon (100 – 400 AD). This tells how the Biblical King, Solomon, built a temple with the aid of demons subdued by a ring gifted to him by God that gave him the power to summon them, and make them reveal their names, abilities, and angelic rulers.

Reading these texts was surprisingly emotive. I found myself swinging from admiration of the prayerful approach, spiritual discipline, and painstaking attention to detail, to rage as I read how this magic was used to subdue the spirits and force them into obedience for low and selfish purposes such as finding treasure. I could feel the fury boiling in my veins – mine or that of the spirits?

In The Greater Key of Solomon we find a complex ritual for ‘conjuring’ spirits. First the magician must make his own equipment – sword, knives, sickle, poniard, wand, staff, robes, crown, shoes, candles, pen, ink, vellum, under the correct day and hour, and consecrate them. For example the knife with the black hilt is made in the day and hour of Saturn, dipped in the blood of a black cat and perfumed.

One of the most important parts is creating 54 ‘Holy Pentacles’ which will control the demons. Each is linked to a planet and an angel and has a set of particular functions.For example, ‘The Fourth Pentacle of Jupiter. — It serveth to acquire riches and honor, and to possess much wealth. Its Angel is Bariel. It should be engraved upon silver in the day and hour of Jupiter when he is in the Sign Cancer.’

The following paragraph vexed me to the extent I felt as if I was the one they intended to ‘strike’:

The Medals or Pentacles, which we make for the purpose of striking terror into the Spirits and reducing them to obedience, have besides this wonderful and excellent virtue. If thou invokest the Spirits by virtue of these Pentacles, they will obey thee without repugnance, and having considered them will be struck with astonishment, and will fear them, and thou shalt see them so surprised by fear and terror, that none of them will be sufficiently bold to oppose thy will.

This has given me a whole new perspective on the pentacle, which symbolises Wicca, and is used widely in modern Pagan magic.

After nine days of fasting, intense prayers to God, and excoriating confessions the Master and his Disciples can begin the rite. This involves further prayers before the construction of an Inner and Second Circle and square traced ‘towards the Four Quarters of the Earth’ with a knife, sword, or sickle. I found myself wincing and feeling a sense of wrongness at the use of such weapons to carve out ‘sacred space’.

The circle is inscribed with the Names of God (TETRAGRAMMATON and the tetragrammatonic names: ‘at the East, AL, El; at the West IH, Yah; at the South AGLA, agla; and at the North ADNI, Adonai’. The spirits are then invoked in their prescribed quarter with the aid of the Pentacles and Knife – the magician must ‘raise it towards the sky as if he wished to beat or strike the Air’ (more violence!).

The spirits are ‘conjured’ by the Power, Wisdom, and Virtue of the Spirit of God’.If the spirits do not come they are threatened not only with the Divine Names but an appalling array of punishments:

on the contrary, ye come not quickly, and ye show yourselves self-opinionated, rebellious, and contumacious… by the which Names we shall harass you… which will make ye tremble and quake with fear… if ye yet resist our powerful conjurations, we shall pronounce against you this warrant of arrest in the Name of God Almighty, and this definite sentence that ye shall fall into dangerous disease and leprosy, and that in sign of the Divine Vengeance ye shall all perish by a terrifying and horrible death, and that a fire shall consume and devour you on every side, and utterly crush you; and that by the Power of God, a flame shall go forth from His Mouth which shall burn ye up and reduce ye unto nothing in Hell. Wherefore delay ye not to come, for we shall not cease from these powerful conjurations until ye shall be obliged to appear against your will.

I was shocked to find such a violent and dominative origin to the rituals whose components, such as circle casting and orienting to/calling to the quarters, have been passed down through the Golden Dawn (Mathers played a large role in editing and popularising the Solomonic Clavicles), through the Western Occult tradition, to Wicca and Druidry, and are used in most generic Pagan rituals.

In The Lesser Key of Solomon we find a similar circle with an inner square labelled MASTER along with a triangle into which to conjure the spirits and a similar use of prayers to God and threats of punishment. This text provides a list of 72 spirits who are governed by the Four Kings of the Cardinal Directions: Amayon (East), Corson (West), Ziminiar (North), and Gaap (South). Itlists their names and powers and provides seals which the magician must wear on his breast to control them.

(7.) AMON – The Seventh Spirit is Amon. He is a Marquis great in power, and most stern. He appeareth like a Wolf with a Serpent’s tail, vomiting out of his mouth flames of fire; but at the command of the Magician he putteth on the shape of a Man with Dog’s teeth beset in a head like a Raven; or else like a Man with a Raven’s head (simply). He telleth all things Past and to Come. He procureth feuds and reconcileth controversies between friends. He governeth 40 Legions of Spirits. His Seal is this which is to be worn as aforesaid, etc.’

7 Amon

(8.) BARBATOS . – The Eighth Spirit is Barbatos. He is a Great Duke, and appeareth when the Sun is in Sagittary, with four noble Kings and their companies of great troops. He giveth understanding of the singing of Birds, and of the Voices of other creatures, such as the barking of Dogs. He breaketh the Hidden Treasures open that have been laid by the Enchantments of Magicians. He is of the Order of Virtues, of which some part he retaineth still; and he knoweth all things Past, and to come, and conciliateth Friends and those that be in Power. He ruleth over 30 Legions of Spirits. His Seal of Obedience is this which is to be worn as aforesaid, etc.

8 Barbatos

The influence of the Solomnic tradition on English ritual magic is evidenced by Reginald Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft, which was published in England in 1584. It contains similar operations featuring fasting, prayers, circles, seals, inscriptions, and most disturbingly the thrusting of ‘five bright swords’ into ‘the five circles of the infernal Kings of the North’: SITRAEL, PALANTHAN, THAMAAR, FALAUR and SITRAMI.

Here we find spirits conjured not only by the name of God but by ‘the King and Queen of Fairies’. This suggests the Fairy King and Queen were invoked, as rulers of the fairies, to command them and put me in mind of how Gwyn was seen to mediate the destructive fury of the spirits of Annwn/fairies. In the Speculum Christiani, Gwyn is invoked for love of his mate to remove the Evil Eye.

Scot also speaks of summoning the fairy Sibylia into a crystal and Sibylia and her fairy sisters Milia and Achilia to bring the magician a ring of invisibility: ‘For there will come to thee fair women, and all in white clothing, and one of them will put a Ring upon they finger, wherewith you shalt go invisible… When thou hast this Ring on thy finger, look in a Glass, and thou shalt not see they self.’

There is much that is sublime, numinous, and poetic within the tradition of ritual magic yet it is clear how the spirits and their powers are abused, subdued and forced into obedience to obey the petty requests of the magician.


Aleister Crowley (ed), S. L. MacGregor Mathers (transl), The Lesser Key of Solomon, (1904)
Elizabeth M. Butler, Ritual Magic, (Penn State University Press, 1999)
Joseph H. Peterson (ed), S. L. MacGregor Mathers (transl), The Key of Solomon, (1999)
Richard Gordon, Dominic Joly, William van Andringa, ‘A Prayer for Blessings on Three Ritual Objects at Chartres’, Magical Practice in the Latin West, (University of Zaragoza, 2005)
Valerie Irene Jane Flint, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe, (Princeton University Press, 1991)


Swyn – charm or incantation; magic
Kristoffer Hughes

This woodland will not be felled by the axe of man or god. I drift with the souls through the mist of blood. It is damp on my cheeks and eyelashes. This is not the time for weeping, but undoing what Gwydion has done. When the featherless wings brush my face I push them away lightly and set to work.

It must begin and end with a snake biting her tail.

It takes me weeks (in this place the weeks are counted by the dripping of the blood) to ease the snakeskin down from the trees, to sew up the tears, to stick the scales back on with super glue, then stretch it out in a circle around the woodland. Lastly I retrieve the skull, prop open the jaws with a strong branch, slip the end of the tail between them, give my instructions to those who will bring the end.

The toadstone with its antidote must form the centre.

With ropes I drag it out of the bloody pool of bones and feel like Sisyphus as I push it into the central grove. A lapwing calls “pee-wit, pee-wit” circling overhead, a red-eared hound sits at my side, and a doe watches fractiously from between the trees as I sponge off the blood and polish it with a yellow duster, beginning to hum a tune as the bufonite sparkles green as emerald beneath my touch.

In the jaws of the hundred-headed beast the gateways must be opened.

I leave the woodland and climb the hill to where the heads of the beast are piled up like a totem. Stepping inside each set of cavernous jaws I light a candle to illuminate each cave and redraw the gateways around each throat with a glow-in-the-dark marker pen and somewhere hear a belly rumble.

The eagle-feathered staff of the swynydd to reverse the swyn.

Slithering on damp bone I climb my way up slowly, a candle, a gateway, in every skull, to the very top. I wrest Gwydion’s staff from between two skulls and shake his presence from it. Gently I untie the eagle feathers and watch them drift slowly to the ground like Lleu sung from the oak in Nant Lleu.

With a smile I tie on the feathers of the owl and speak a prayer to Blodeuwedd and all her kind. I call to my Lord of Annwn, Brân with his alder shield, Pryderi the swineherd dead before his time.

Beneath the stars of promise, seated on the top skull of the beast, one leg crossed over the other, I sing:

Blood drenched trees
beyond Caer Nefenhyr
souls amongst the trees
will you ever be free?

As I sing I see the trees awakening as if from a long sleep, staring about in horror, shaking off the blood. Birch is abashed by his blood-stained armour whereas Ash is proud of his splashes and scars. Golden Rod, afraid her beauty will be forever be marred, lays down her rods of golden flowers like swords.

From their bloody death-spots the souls unattach themselves, ease themselves out of the mist, the rain.

Blood drenched trees
enchanted into warriors
woodland of lost souls
will you ever be free?

A bending of the boughs, a turning and circling in confusion, the deep rumbling voice of Oak as he argues with Holly again, the silvery tongue of Birch calming them, the dream-wisdom of Willow, the fire of Rowan, prickly Blackthorn playing devil’s advocate, the squeak of clover demanding a say.

Souls fly like moths to the flame to the jaws of the beast. The green light of the toadstone begins to glow.

Blood drenched trees
will you return to Annwn
with souls of mist and feather?
Will you accept freedom?

The green light soothes them and, as a woodland, as a whole, united by blood and mycelium they agree.

The souls step into the caverns, to the gateways, and the beast shudders to life. The snakeskin begins to twitch. I sense the end approaching like the snap of countless jaws as the snake bites her tail.

Speckled Crested Snake Ouroboros Med

*This piece follows on Caer Nefenhyr and is based upon a spirit journey into the otherworldly landscape where ‘the Battle of the Trees’ took place.