THE BLACK ART OF ATLANTIS
For some time after Kelson and Curtis had left him, Hamar lolled back
in his seat, lost in thought. Thought, as he told himself repeatedly,
should be the poor man's chief recreation--it costs nothing: and if
one wants a little variety, and the walls of one's rooms are tolerably
thick, one can think aloud. Hamar often did, and derived much
enjoyment from it.
"I'm convinced of one thing," he suddenly broke out; "I'd rather be
hungry than cold. One can, in a measure, cheat one's stomach by
chewing leather or sucking pebbles, but I'll be hanged if one can kid
one's liver. It's cold that does me! A touch of cold on the liver! I
could jog along comfortably on few dollars for food--but it's a fire,
a fire I want! The temperature of this room is infernally low after
sunset: and half a dozen coats and three pairs of pants don't make
up for half a grateful of fuel. Hunger only makes me think of
suicide--but cold--cold and a chilled liver--makes me think of crime.
Yes, it's cold! Cold that would make me a criminal. I would
steal--burgle--housebreak--cut the sweetest lady's throat in
Christendom--for a fire!
"There! that little outbreak has relieved me. Now let me have a look
at the book."
He dragged the volume towards him, and despite the feeling of
antagonism with which it had inspired him, and despite the cynical
attitude he had, up to the present, adopted towards the supernatural,
he speedily became engrossed. On a few leaves, somewhat clumsily
inserted between the cover and first page of the book, Hamar read an
account, presumably in the author's own penmanship, of how he, Thomas
Maitland, after being shipwrecked, had remained on Inisturk Island for
a fortnight before being rescued, and had spent the greater portion of
that time in examining the books, etc., in the chest he had found--his
only food--shell-fish and a keg of mildewy ship's biscuits.
He was taken, so the account ran, by his rescuers, on the barque
_Hannah_, to London, where he lived for five years. His lodgings were
in Cheapside, and it was there that he compiled his work on Atlantis,
having obtained his subject matter from the Atlantean books he had
managed to bring with him, and which, after an enormous amount of
perseverance and labour, he had translated into English. Though these
books were subsequently destroyed in a big fire that demolished the
entire street, luckily for him, he had sent his MS. to the publishers,
Messrs. Bettesworth and Batley, a week or so before the conflagration
broke out; so that he was, at any rate, spared the loss of his own
arduous and invaluable work.
The publishers did not accept the MS. at once. At that time there were
very severe laws in operation against anything savouring of witchcraft
and magic, and as the manuscript dealt at length with these subjects,
and in a manner that left no doubt whatever that he, Thomas Maitland,
had practised sorcery extensively, Messrs. Bettesworth and Batley were
forced to consider whether it would be injurious to them to publish
it. Mrs. Bettesworth was eventually consulted--as indeed she always
was, on extraordinary occasions--and her interest in the MS. being
roused, she decided in its favour. Within a week of its publication,
however, it was suppressed by law; all the copies saving three
presentation ones to the author, which he successfully concealed, were
destroyed; Messrs. Bettesworth and Batley were put in the stocks on
Ludgate Hill and fined heavily, and he, Thomas Maitland, was ordered
to be arrested, flogged and imprisoned.
"But," wrote Maitland, "I was not to be caught napping. My previous
adventures and hairbreadth escapes had rendered me unusually wary, and
perceiving a number of people, among whom were two or three sheriff's
officers, approaching my house, I at once interpreted their mission,
and climbing through a trap-door leading on to the roof of the
building, nimbly made my way to the end of the row, and slipping down
a waterpipe easily eluded my enemies. London, however, being now too
hot to hold me, I booked passage on board the _Peterkin_, a Thames
trading vessel of some eighty tons, and sailed for Boston. My flight
had been so hasty that I brought very little with me--nothing in fact
except the clothes I stood in--a stout winter suit of home-spun brown
cloth, a cloak, and a pair of good, strong leather leggings--a purse
of fifty sovereigns (all I had), a knife, pistol and two copies of my
precious book, the third copy, alas! I had left behind in my hurry."
After giving a few unimportant details as to his life on board ship,
Maitland went on to say:--
"Owing to a succession of storms the _Peterkin_ was driven out of her
course, and after narrowly escaping being dashed to pieces on the
Florida reefs, Lat. 24-1/2° N., Long. 82° W., we ran ashore with the
loss of only two lives--the second mate and cabin boy--on the Isthmus
of Yucatan, close to the estuary of a river.[1] Here we were forced to
spend nearly a year, during which time I made several journeys of
exploration into the interior of the continent. In the course of one
of my rambles amid a dense mass of tropical foliage, I suddenly found
myself face to face with a gigantic stone Sphinx, which I at once
recognized and identified. It was Tat-Nuada, an Atlantean deity,
elaborately described in one of the burned books. Much excited, I set
to work, and, after clearing the base of the idol of fungi and other
vegetable growth adhering to it, discovered a superscription in
Atlantean dialect to the effect that the image had been set up there
by one Hullir--to commemorate the destruction of Atlantis, of which
catastrophe Hullir believed himself and his family, _i.e._ his wife
Ozilmeave and daughters, Taramoo and Nikétoth, and the crew of his
yacht, the _Chaac-molré_ (ten in number), the sole survivors.
"Here, then, to my unutterable joy, was strong corroborative evidence
of the great disaster narrated in detail in the manuscripts I had
found in Inisturk Island. The existence of Atlantis was now thoroughly
substantiated. On all sides of me I stumbled across further evidences
of these early settlers. Here, standing in bold outline on a slight
eminence, was a stone edifice adorned with symbolical carvings of
eggs, harps, mastodons, triangles, and numerous other objects, all of
which were capable of interpretation, and indicated that the building
was a temple to some god.
"I was much struck by the extraordinary similarity in many of the
things I saw--notably in the sphinx, idols and symbols--to many I had
seen in Egypt, and to some extent in Ireland, and I at once set to
work to draw up a careful analogy between the languages of those
countries.
"The word Banchicheisi[2] I found to contain the Celtic ban, a barrow;
and Coptic isi, plenty; whilst I recognized in the words Coulmenes,[3]
the Celtic Coul, a man's name, _i.e._ Finn, son of Coul; in
Thottirnanoge, the Coptic Thoth, _i.e._ name of ancient Egyptian
deity, and Erse Tirnanoge, the name of the wife of Oisin, the last of
the Feni; in Chaac-molrée[4] the Coptic deity, ré; in Ozilmeave,[5]
the Celtic Meave, a girl's name; in Taramoo,[6] the Celtic Tara, a
girl's name; and in Nikétoth,[7] toth, the Erse technical form of
feminine gender; and comparing the alphabets I traced a very striking
likeness between the Atlantean--
"[Atlantean: a] (a) and the Gaelic or Erse [Erse: A]
[Atlantean: B] (B) and the Coptic [Coptic: B]
[Atlantean: d] (d) and Erse [Erse: D]
[Atlantean: g] (g) and Erse [Erse: g]
[Atlantean: T] (T) and Coptic [Coptic: T]
"and many of the other letters. To the Atlantean
"[Atlantean: C, O, E, Z][8]
"I could, however, find no likeness.
"From all these similarities, _i.e._ in architecture, symbols,
letters, and words, I could come to no other conclusion than that
there was some strong connecting link between Atlantis and ancient
Ireland and Egypt.
"Assuredly this great link could not have been merely due to stray
survivors of the great catastrophe! Was it not much more probable that
the earliest inhabitants of Ireland and Egypt had originally migrated
from Atlantis, carrying its language, and ways and customs with them?
Moreover, since the Atlanteans were so deeply versed in magic and
everything appertaining to the occult, this migration would account
for the mysticism that has always been so closely associated with
Egypt and Ireland, and for the psychic faculty so strongly observable
in the inhabitants of these two countries.
"I was highly satisfied--I had proved much and my discoveries had
upset many of the theories advanced by the modern sages. I could now
positively assert that the wisdom of the world came not from the East
but from the West. It was to the golden West--to Banchicheisi, capital
of Atlantis, that humanity owed its knowledge of the sciences and
arts, and of all things good and evil. Eden, if Eden existed at all,
was not in Asia, it was in Atlantis; and the Deluge, that is recorded
in the Hebrew Bible, and is traditional in the histories of nearly
every tribe and nation, was none other than the mighty inrush of the
ocean over Atlantis, due to some abnormal submarine earthquake.
"Of what eventually became of the Atlanteans whose relics I had so
opportunely alighted upon, I could only surmise.
"The last record I found was on a tablet set up by Nikétoth. On this
she spoke of the death of Hullir and Ozilmeave, of the inter-marriage
of the crew of the _Chaac-molré_ with native women; of the consequent
growth of the colony; and of her determination to leave it, and,
accompanied by a chosen few, to push her way further inland.[9]
"The anxiety of my comrades to leave the continent, perforce put an
end to my explorations, and in the beginning of the year 1692--exactly
ten months after our landing--the _Peterkin_ was refloated.
"This time nothing happened to impede our progress, and in April of
the same year, we sighted Boston. Here I remained for some months,
making many new friends, and studying magic and sorcery. But the love
of travel had laid so strong a hold on me that I again took to a
roving life. I set sail for Spain in November 1692; landed at Corunna,
and made my way to Madrid, where I arrived on January 1, 1693."
For the rest, Hamar had to turn to Messrs. Fox and Pool's addendum,
_i.e._ the footnote that Matt Kelson had read aloud.
Hamar was now inclined to regard the book in a very different light.
What he had read seemed to him to be set down in too simple,
straightforward, and, at the same time, detailed a manner to be other
than true. Up to the present he had not believed in ghosts and
witches, for the very simple reason that--like all sceptics--he had
never inquired into the testimony respecting them. He had pooh-poohed
the subject, because every one he knew pooh-poohed it, and also
because it had never seemed worth his while to do otherwise. But
provided he thought it would pay him, he was ready to believe in
anything--in Christianity, Mahommedanism, Buddhism, Theosophy, or
any other creed; and granted the book he had in his hands was
really written by Maitland, and Maitland was _bona fide_ (which Hamar
saw no reason to doubt), and granted, also, that Maitland was sane and
logical--which from his writing he certainly appeared to be--then
there was a certain amount in the volume that in Hamar's opinion
was "a find." Needless to say, he referred to the magic of the
Atlanteans--the art through the practice of which they had got in
touch with the Powers that could endow them with riches. The actual
history of Atlantis--once he was satisfied there had been such a
place--did not interest him. He skimmed through it quickly, and I
append a brief summary, only, for the benefit of more intelligent and
disinterested readers.
The Atlanteans were the oldest intelligent race in the world--they
existed contemporaneously with Paleolithic man, with whom their
mariners and explorers frequently came in contact, and about whom
their novelists wrote the most delightful stories, just as Fenimore
Cooper and Mayne Reid, in these days, have written the most delightful
stories about the Red Indians. In religion they were polytheists; they
believed that, in the work of Creation, many Powers participated; that
some of these Powers were benevolent, some malevolent, whilst
others--neither benevolent nor malevolent--were merely neutral. To the
benevolent creative Powers they attributed all that is beautiful in
the world (_i.e._ certain of the trees, plants, flowers, animals,
insects, and pleasing colours and scents); all that is fair and
agreeable in the human being, such as affection, love, kindness, the
arts and sciences--in a word all that in any degree affected the
welfare of mankind; and to the malevolent creative Powers they
attributed all that was noxious in creation; all that was harmful to
man, and detrimental to his moral and physical progress (_i.e._
diseases, and all savage and filthy passions); all races of low
intelligence, viz. Paleolithic and Neolithic man--and all those born
with black or red skins (those colours being particularly significant
of the malignant Occult Elements); all destructive animals; (_i.e._
reptiles such as the teleosaurus, steneosaurus, etc.; birds, such as
the ptereodactyl, vulture, eagle, etc.; mammals, such as the cave
lion, cave tiger, etc.; fish, such as the shark, octopus, etc.); and
all ugly and venomous insects.
These earliest records show that at one time the physical and
superphysical world were in close touch; all kinds of spirits--trolls,
pixies, nymphs, satyrs, imps, Vagrarians, Barrowvians, etc.--mixing
freely with living human beings; but that as the population increased
and civilization evolved, superphysical manifestations became more and
more rare, until finally they became restricted to certain conditions
dependent on time and locality.[10]
Up to this period there had been no state religion--no temples in
Atlantis. If any one wished for a particular favour from the Occult
Powers--for example, from the Rabsés, the Occult Powers of music; the
Brakvos, the Occult Powers of medicine; or the Derinas, the Occult
Powers of love, they retired to some secluded spot and held direct
intercourse with these Powers. The idea of praying to an invisible
being--who might or might not hear them--never entered their minds;
they were far too matter of fact for that--and it was not until
superphysical manifestations had become confined to a very select few,
that the plan of erecting public buildings in spots frequented by the
spirits, so that all who wished could assemble there and communicate
with them, was proposed and put into operation. In these buildings,
however, the spirits did not choose always, to appear to
order--sometimes they quitted the spot where the edifice had been
erected; sometimes they would only appear there periodically; and
sometimes, out of perversity, they would appear when least expected.
But whether occult manifestations really took place in these buildings
or not, those assembled to see them were persuaded by those in charge
of the building, who saw thereby an opportunity of making money, that
the spirits were actually there; and in due time these buildings
became known as temples, and their showmen as priests. Every temple
was dedicated to an individual spirit--one to the Spirit Bara-boo;
another to the Spirit Karaboro, and so on; whilst in the absence of
genuine spirit manifestations, prayers, incantations and rituals,
invented by the priests, always attracted a large concourse of people
to these temples, and finally proved a greater source of attraction
than the spirits themselves.
It was to gain favours from the Occult Powers that donations from the
public were at first invited, then demanded; and the priests in this
manner accumulated vast fortunes. Later on, too, there sprang up, in
connection with these temples, colleges for the training of young
men--invariably selected from the wealthy classes--to the priesthood;
and from the parents of these youthful aspirants large fees, which in
course of time became exorbitant, were extracted, thereby furnishing
another source of revenue to the priests. The most famous colleges for
the training of priests in Atlantis were those of Bara-boo-rek[11] at
Keisionwo, Karaboro-rek at Diniangek, and Ballygarap-rek at Tijimin.
It was in the reign of Barrahneil,[12] fifty-first sovereign of the
Dynasty of Shaotak, that the evocation of spirits (from which modern
spiritualism takes its origin) commenced. Barrahneil was most eager to
see a superphysical manifestation. Being of a somewhat poetical turn
of mind he was particularly enamoured of fairies, and in the hope of
seeing one, constantly frequented their favourite haunts, _i.e._
woods, caves, and lonely isolated habitations. But all to no
purpose--they never would manifest themselves to him. At last, he lost
patience. Against the advice of his oldest and most trusty
counsellors, and accompanied by one or two of his favourite courtiers,
he went to an excessively lonely spot in the heart of a desert, and
besought spirits--spirits of any sort--he did not care what--to
manifest themselves. To his surprise--for he had grown extremely
sceptical--an Occult form, half man and half beast,[13] materialized.
It informed them that it was Daramara, _i.e._ in Atlantis, the
Unknown--that it had no beginning and no end, and that it would remain
an impenetrable mystery to them during their existence in the physical
sphere, but would be fully revealed to them when they passed over into
Malanok--one of the superphysical planes. On this, and on several
subsequent occasions, when it manifested itself to them, it gave them
instructions with regard to evocation, and described to them the tests
they must undergo before they could acquire the great powers the
Unknown was able to bestow on them, namely, (1) second sight; (2)
divining other people's thoughts and detecting the presence of waters
and metals; (3) thought transference, _i.e._ being able to transmit
messages, irrespective of distance, from one brain to another without
any physical medium; (4) hypnotism; (5) the power to hold converse
with animals; (6) invisibility, _i.e._ dematerializing at will; (7)
walking on, and breathing under, water; (8) inflicting all manner of
diseases and torments; (9) curing all kinds of diseases; (10)
converting people into beasts and minerals; (11) foretelling the
future by palmistry, pyromancy, hydromancy, astrology, etc.; (12)
conjuring up all manner of spirits antagonistic to men's moral
progress, _i.e._ Vice Elementals--Vagrarians, Barrowvians, etc.
Taking every care to observe the greatest secrecy, Barrahneil caused a
full account of these interviews with Daramara, together with all the
instructions the latter had given him, to be transcribed in a book,
which he called _Brahnapotek_[14]--or the _Book of Mysteries_; and
which he kept sealed and guarded in a room in his palace.
During his lifetime no one held communication with Daramara saving
himself and his friends, but after his death the secret of black magic
leaked out; countless people sought to acquire it, and ultimately the
practice of it became universal. But the Atlanteans little knew the
danger they were incurring. The spirits they conjured up--though at
first subservient, that is to say, mere instruments--at length
obtained complete dominion over them--the whole race became steeped in
crime and vice of every kind--and so horrible were the enormities
perpetrated that, fearful lest Man should be entirely obliterated the
benevolent Occult Powers, after a desperate struggle with the
malevolent Occult Powers, succeeded, by means of a vast earthquake, in
submerging the Continent and hurling it to the bottom of the Atlantic
Ocean, where, what remains of it, now lies. This catastrophe took
place in the reign of Aboonirin, twentieth sovereign of the Dynasty of
Molonekin--three thousand years after the reign of Barrahneil.
So ran the history of Atlantis, or at least all of it that need be
quoted for the elucidation of this story. That Black Magic--the Black
Art of the Atlanteans was by no means dead--Hamar felt convinced, and
if Maitland could resuscitate it--why could not he? At any rate he
might try. He could lose nothing by giving it a trial--at least
nothing to speak of--the outlay on chemicals would be a mere
song--whereas, on the other hand, what might he not gain! He eagerly
perused the tests--the test he must impose upon himself before he
could get in touch with the Unknown, and acquire the magic
powers--which, according to Thomas Maitland, were copied from the
original Brahnapotek, and including a preface, ran as follows:
(_Preface_) "It is essential that the person desirous of being
initiated into the Black Art--the Art of communicating with the
Unknown (Daramara) in order to acquire certain great powers, should
dismiss from his mind all ideas of moral progress, and wholly
concentrate on the bettering of his material self--on acquiring riches
and fame in the physical sphere. His aspirations must be entirely
earthly, and all his affections subordinate to his main desire for
wealth and carnal pleasures. Having acquired this preliminary
psychological stage, for one clear week he must give himself up
entirely to the breaking of all the conventionalities of morality with
which society is hedged in. He must practice every kind of
deception--lie, cheat and steal, and go out of his way to seek an
opportunity to avenge any personal injury; and if his mind is
earnestly and wholly concentrated on acquiring knowledge of the Black
Art no bodily mishap will befall him. During this time of probation he
must will himself to dream, at night, of all the deeds he had it in
his mind to do, during the day; when he will know, by his visions, to
what extent he is progressing. At the end of the week he must apply
the tests to see if he is in a ripe state to proceed.
"The tests--
"No. 1. At midnight, when the moon is full, place a mirror, set in
a wooden frame, in a tub of water, so that it will float on the
surface with its face uppermost. Put in the water fifteen grains
of bicarbonate of potash, and sprinkle it with three drops of
blood, not necessarily human If the reflection of the moon in the
mirror then appear crimson, the test is satisfactorily
accomplished.
"No. 2. At midnight, when the moon is full, take a black cat, place
it where the moonbeams are thickest, sprinkle it with three drops
of blood, not necessarily human, and rub its coat with the palm of
the hand. Sparks will then be given out, and if those sparks
appear crimson the test is satisfactorily done.
"No. 3. Take a human skull--preferably that of some person who has
met with an unnatural end, pour on it a single drop of fresh,
human blood--place it on a couch, and go to sleep with the back
part of the head resting on it. If you are awakened, at the second
hour after midnight, by hearing a great commotion close at hand,
and the room is then discovered to be full of crimson light, the
test is satisfactorily fulfilled.
"No. 4. Take half a score of the berries of enchanter's
nightshade,[15] two ounces of hemlock leaves in powder, and one
ounce of red sorrel leaves. Heat them in an oven for two hours,
pound them together, in a mortar, and at midnight boil them in
water. As soon as the contents begin to bubble, remove them from
the fire and stand them in a dark place; and if the experiment is
to prove satisfactory, three bubbles of luminous green light will
rise simultaneously from the water and burst.
"No. 5. In the above preparation after the test described, soak a
hazel twig, fashioned in the shape of a fork. On meeting a child
hold the fork with the V downwards in front of its face, and if
the child exhibits violence and signs of terror, and falls down,
the experiment is successful.
"No. 6. Take a couple of handfuls of fine soil from over the spot
where some four-footed animal has recently been buried. Put it in
a tin vessel, mix with it three ounces of assafoetida and one
drachm of quassia chips, to which add a death's-head moth
(_Acherontia atropos_). Heat the vessel over a wood fire for three
hours. Then remove it and place it on the hearth, rake out the
fire and make the room absolutely dark. Keep watch beside the
vessel, and if, at the second hour after midnight, any strange
phenomena occur, the test will be known to have been
satisfactorily executed.
"(_Addendum_) If any of these tests fail the candidate must wait
for six months before giving them a further trial, and he must
occupy the interim by training his thoughts in the manner already
prescribed. But if, on the other hand, the tests have been
successfully performed, he can proceed with the rites appertaining
to the Black Art."
Hamar had read so far when, with a gesture of impatience, he closed
the book. "What a fool I am!" he exclaimed, "to waste my time with
such stuff!... But Maitland writes in such a devilish convincing way!
Jerusalem! Any straw is good enough for the drowning man, and if
witchcraft and sorcery with motors dashing by every second and the
whole air alive with wireless and telephones, is a bit beyond my
comprehension, what then? All I care about is money--and I'll leave no
stone unturned to get it. If it were possible for man to get in touch
with Daramara--the Unknown--Devil, or whatever else it chooses to call
itself--I'll call it an angel if it only gives me money--twenty
thousand years ago--why shouldn't it be possible to get in touch with
it now? Anyhow as I said before, I'll have a try. As far as the
preliminary stage is concerned, I fancy I'm pretty well fixed. My mind
is occupied right enough with things of this world--I don't give a
cent for anything belonging to another--and if only I had half a dozen
souls, I'd sell them right away now, for less than twenty thousand
dollars--a damned sight less. As for these tests--foolish isn't the
word for them--but it won't cost much just to try them.... Now,
according to Thomas Maitland, the ceremony of calling up the Unknown
stands a far greater chance of success if there are three human beings
present ... but, of course, if there is any truth in this business,
I'd rather keep the secret of it to myself. However, if I try alone,
the Unknown may not come to me, and then I shall have had all the
trouble of going through the tests for nothing!... Ah! now I see! If
the other two get more of the profits than I think necessary--I can
make use of my newly acquired Occult Power to--to dissolve
partnership! Ha! ha! I could--I could trick the Unknown if it comes to
that. Trust a Jew to outwit the Devil! I'll just look up Kelson
and--Curtis."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The river referred to by Maitland is the river
Lagartos, which was then (1691) unnamed.]
[Footnote 2: For chiche compare the ancient Maya or Yucatan word
Chicken-Itza (_i.e._ name of town in Yucatan where excavations are
now taking place--1912).]
[Footnote 3: For Menes compare Mayan Menes, wise men.]
[Footnote 4: Compare Mayan Chaac-mol, a leopard.]
[Footnote 5: Compare Ozil, Mayan for well-beloved.]
[Footnote 6: Moo, Mayan for Macaw.]
[Footnote 7: Niké, woman's name in Mayan.]
[Footnote 8: Recent (1912) discoveries of statues in Easter Island
still further corroborate the sinking of Atlantis.
The Atlantean character [C] resembles the Easter Island [C] (C)
" " [O] " " " [O] (O)
" " [E] " " " [E] (E)
" " [Z] " " " [Z] (Z)
It will be noticed that all the Atlantean characters are
distinguished by additional curling strokes.]
[Footnote 9: In all probability she was the founder of Chicken-Itza,
the capital of Yucatan.]
[Footnote 10: Types of Elementals still to be met with in certain
localities (vide _Byeways of Ghostland_, published by Rider & Son).]
[Footnote 11: Compare Egyptian ré.]
[Footnote 12: Maitland raises the question as to whether Barrahneil
was the ancestor of Niall of the Nine Hostages. Of this there is
every possibility, since many Atlanteans undoubtedly escaped to
Ireland, carrying with them the knowledge of Black Magic--to which
might be traced the Banshee and other family ghosts.]
[Footnote 13: Probably a Vice Elemental.]
[Footnote 14: All subsequent works dealing with Black Magic were
founded on it.]
[Footnote 15: Closely allied to deadly nightshade, and known in
botany as _Circæa_. It is found in damp, shady places and was used
to a very large extent in mediæval sorcery.]