We have now, in this book and in Eight Sabbats for Witches, covered the ritual parts of Gerald Gardner’s Book of Shadows (Text B), and of its definitive version as compiled by Gardner and Doreen Valiente together (Text C). Wherever possible, and greatly helped by Doreen’s knowledge, we have given the sources of this material.
But there is also much non-ritual material in the Book of Shadows; and some of it has suffered the same fate as the rituals of being misquoted, distorted and plagiarized. Like the rituals, its ‘secret’ days are long past, whether one regrets the fact or not. So we agree with Doreen that the point has been reached where, in the interests of the Craft and of historical accuracy, the authentic texts of these non-ritual passages should also be published.
The work which Doreen did for Gardner in revising Text B was confined to the rituals; as far as the non-ritual passages are concerned, Texts B and C are identical.
Doreen tells us: ‘These passages do not appear in Text A, the oldest book; but you will note a curious point in the passage headed Of Calls, indicating that Gerald must have copied it from someone else’s book. Old Dorothy’s? I don’t know. My impression is that people copied from each other’s books what appealed to them and what they considered important, adding stuff of their own from time to time (spells, recipes and so on) so that in practice no two Books of Shadows would be exactly the same. Also, in those days when occult books were nothing like so easy of access as they are today, they copied passages from printed books they had been given the loan of, on subjects which interested them. Old Gerald does this extensively in his old book, concerning the Knights Templars, the Qabalah and so on, interspersed with favourite poems.’
It is thus almost always impossible to identify sources as far as these passages are concerned. As Doreen says, they are clearly ‘of varying importance and age’. Evidence of the differences in age is the variety of prose styles; some passages seem genuinely old, some comparatively modern (or interspersed with modernisms), while some are frankly pseudo-archaic.
For clarity, we give the Book of Shadows texts in italic type, and any comments (of our own or Doreen’s) in roman type. The heading to each passage is as it appears in Text B.
‘Keep a book in your own hand of write. Let brothers and sisters copy what they will; but never let the book out of your hands and never keep the writings of another, for if found in their hand of write they may well be taken and tortured. Each shall guard his own writing and destroy it whenever danger threatens. Learn as much as you may by heart, and when danger is past rewrite your book if it be safe. For this reason, if any die, destroy their book if they have not been able to, for an it be found ‘tis clear proof against them, and “Ye may not be a witch alone”, so all their friends be in danger of torture. So destroy everything not necessary. If your book be found on you ‘tis clear proof against you alone and you may be tortured. Keep all thoughts of the cult from your mind; say you had bad dreams, a devil caused you to write this without your knowledge. Think to yourself, “I know nothing. I remember nothing. I have forgotten all.” Drive this into your mind. If the torture be too great to bear, say, “I will confess, I cannot bear this torment. What do you want me to say? Tell me and I will say it.” If they try to make you speak of impossibilities, such as flying through the air, consorting with the Devil and sacrificing children and eating man’s flesh, to obtain relief from torture say, “I had an evil dream, I was not myself, I was crazed. ”
‘Not all magistrates are bad. If there be an excuse they may show mercy. If you have confessed aught, deny it afterwards; say you babbled under the torture, you knew not what you did or said. If you be condemned, fear not; the Brotherhood is powerful. They may help you to escape if you are steadfast. IF YOU BETRAY AUGHT THERE IS NO HOPE FOR YOU IN THIS LIFE OR IN THAT WHICH IS TO COME. ‘Tis sure, if steadfast you go to the pyre, drugs will help you; they will reach you and you will feel naught. An you go but to death, what lies beyond? The ecstasy of the Goddess.
‘The same of the Working Tools; let them be as ordinary things that any may have in their houses. Let the pentacles be of wax that they may be melted or broken at once. Have no sword unless your rank allows you one, and have no names or signs on anything. Write the names and signs on in ink before consecrating them and wash off immediately after. Never boast, never threaten, never say you would wish ill to anyone. If you speak of the Craft, say, “Speak not to me of such, it frightens me, ‘tis evil luck to talk of it”.
Doreen’s comment: ‘I regard this as being of dubious authenticity, because it talks of going “to the pyre”, whereas in England after the Reformation witches did not “go to the pyre” unless they had been adjudged guilty of killing their husbands, which was regarded as petty treason. The punishment for witches in England was hanging; it was only in Scotland that they were burned at the stake. Lots of writers about witchcraft slip up on this detail. So this “Preface” would either have to be pre-Reformation, which I doubt very much, especially with its reference to magistrates, or Scottish, which I see no reason to think it is.’
We, too, have always suspected the Preface. At the time when torture was used, most ordinary witches would be illiterate, and it would certainly not be a rule to ‘keep a book in your hand of write’; and even if they had all been literate, learning the Craft would still have been a word-of-mouth process for security reasons. If such books had been kept, during the two or more centuries of persecution some would inevitably have been captured by the authorities and been made much of, and to our knowledge this never happened — which suggests strongly that there were none.
The instructions about how to behave if captured, and on working tools, ring rather more true. It seems to us that the ‘Preface’ is a late (perhaps nineteenth-century) commitment to paper of a mixture of verbally handed-down lore and contemporary practice. The prose style, which smacks of the pseudo-archaism the Victorians loved and regarded as ‘literary’, rather supports this view. And ‘going to the pyre’ would be a confusion with the fate of other martyrs, understandable at a time when most people’s historical knowledge was elementary and highly coloured.
‘The sign on the Athame is said to represent, among other things, the Eight Paths which all lead to the Centre and the Eight Ways of Making Magic, and these are:
‘1. Meditation or concentration.
‘2. Chants, Spells, Invocations. Invoking the Goddess, etc.
‘3. Projection of the Astral Body, or Trance.
‘4. Incense, Drugs, Wine, etc. Any potion which aids to release the Spirit.
‘5. Dancing.
‘6. Blood control. Use of the Cords.
‘7. The Scourge.
‘8. The Great Rite.
‘You can combine many of these ways to produce more power.
‘To practise the Art successfully, you need the following five things:
‘1. Intention. You must have the absolute will to succeed, the firm belief that you can do so and the determination to win through against all obstacles.
‘2. Preparation. You must be properly prepared.
‘3. Invocation. The Mighty Ones must be invoked.
‘4. Consecration. The Circle must be properly cast and consecrated and you must have properly consecrated tools.
‘5. Purification. You must be purified.
‘Hence there are 5 things necessary before you can start, and then 8 Paths or Ways leading to the Centre. For instance, you can combine 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8 together in one rite; or 4, 6 and 7 together with 1 and 2, or with 3 perhaps. The more ways you can combine, the more power you produce.
‘It is not meet to make offering of less than two score lashes to the Goddess, for here be a mystery. The fortunate numbers be 3, 7, 9 and thrice 7 which be 21. And these numbers total two score, so a less perfect or fortunate number would not be a perfect prayer. Also the Fivefold Salute be 5, yet it be 8 kisses; for there be 2 feet, 2 knees and 2 breasts. And 5 times 8 be two score. Also there be 8 Working Tools and the Pentacle be 5; and five eights are two score.
‘(Note: 8 plus 5 equals 13. 8 multiplied by 5 equals 40.)’
There is no doubt that from time immemorial both drugs and the scourge have been used (though under carefully controlled conditions, and with knowledge) to ‘release the Spirit’ — i.e., to expand consciousness. In today’s circumstances, we are completely opposed to the use of drugs in the Craft, in any form; for our arguments on this, see The Ethics of Witchcraft, On the controlled use of the scourge, there are divided opinions. For ourselves, we use it only symbolically; but that is a personal choice. Scourging is dealt with fully in the passage To Get the Sight, and we have added Doreen’s comments on its constructive use to that.
The paragraph on ‘fortunate numbers’ is interesting and worth study. So is the fact that it is in quite a different, and apparently older, prose style than the foregoing paragraphs.
‘Power is latent in the body and may be drawn out and used in various ways by the skilled. But unless confined in a circle it will be swiftly dissipated. Hence the importance of a properly constructed circle. Power seems to exude from the body via the skin and possibly from the orifices of the body; hence you should be properly prepared. The slightest dirt spoils everything, which shows the importance of thorough cleanliness.
‘The attitude of mind has great effect, so only work with a spirit of reverence. A little wine taken and repeated during the ceremony, if necessary, helps to produce power. Other strong drinks or drugs may be used, but it is necessary to be very moderate, as if you are confused, even slightly, you cannot control the power you evoke.
‘The simplest way is by dancing and singing monotonous chants, slowly at first and gradually quickening the tempo until giddiness ensues. Then the calls may be used, or even wild and meaningless shrieking produces power. But this method inflames the mind and renders it difficult to control the power, though control may be gained through practice. The scourge is a far better way, for it stimulates and excites both body and soul, yet one easily retains control.
‘The Great Rite is far the best. It releases enormous power, but the conditions and circumstances make it difficult for the mind to maintain control at first. It is again a matter of practice and the natural strength of the operator’s will and in a less degree of those of his assistants. If, as of old, there were many trained assistants present and all wills properly attuned, wonders occurred.
‘Sorcerers chiefly used the blood sacrifice; and while we hold this to be evil we cannot deny that this method is very efficient. Power flashes forth from newly shed blood, instead of exuding slowly as by our method. The victim’s terror and anguish add keenness and quite a small animal can yield enormous power. The great difficulty is in the human mind controlling the power of the lower animal mind. But sorcerers claim they have methods for effecting this and that the difficulty disappears the higher the animal used and when the victim is human disappears entirely. (The practice is an abomination but it is so.)
‘Priests know this well; and by their auto-da-fés, with the victims’ pain and terror (the fires acting much the same as circles), obtained enormous power.
‘Of old the Flagellants certainly evoked power, but through not being confined by a circle most was lost. The amount of power raised was so great and continuous that anyone with knowledge could direct and use it; and it is most probable that the classical and heathen sacrifices were used in the same way. There are whispers that when the human victim was a willing sacrifice, with his mind directed on the Great Work and with highly skilled assistants, wonders ensued — but of this I would not speak.’
This passage has all the hallmarks of a dictated talk, or an individual’s essay copied down. (Old Dorothy again?) The ‘I’ in the last sentence alone indicates this. It is all in modern (nineteenth- or early twentieth-century, we would say) phraseology, and it strikes us as the work of a keen brain. It starts off with helpful and practical advice on Wiccan methods of power-raising, and goes on to a shrewd analysis of the ‘abomination’ of sorcerers’ blood sacrifices and the Inquisitors’ burnings, and of the wastefulness of the Christian Flagellants’ methods.
The comments on the Great Rite, with its (male) ‘operator’ and ‘trained assistants’, seem more in tune with ancient public sex-magic (such as that performed by a High Priest with a chosen temple virgin at the annual Festival of Opet at Thebes in ancient Egypt) than with today’s practice. Modern sex-magic calls for balanced male/female polarity and is conducted by the couple in private; in Section XV, ‘Witchcraft and Sex’. Such privacy was also observed in Gardner’s coven, Doreen tells us.
The remarks on the containing and amplifying effect of the Magic Circle underline the point we made on this in Section I. The suggestion that the fire of an auto-da-fé had this same containing effect is interesting.
‘Naked, but sandals (not shoes) may be worn. For initiation, tie hands behind back, pull up to small of back and tie ends in front of throat, leaving a cable-tow to lead by, hanging down in front. (Arms thus form a triangle at back.) When initiate is kneeling at altar, the cable-tow is tied to a ring in the altar. A short cord is tied like a garter round the initiate’s left leg above the knee, with ends tucked in. Another is tied round right ankle and ends tucked in so as to be out of the way while moving about. These cords are used to tie feet together while initiate is kneeling at the altar and must be long enough to do this firmly. Knees must also be firmly tied. This must be carefully done. If the aspirant complains of pain the bonds must be loosened slightly; always remember the object being to retard the blood flow enough to induce a trance state. This involves slight discomfort; but great discomfort prevents the trance state, so it is best to spend some little time loosening and tightening the bonds until they are just right. The aspirant alone can tell you when this is so. This, of course, does not apply to the initiation, as then no trance is desired; but for the purpose of ritual it is good that the initiates be bound firmly enough to feel they are absolutely helpless but without discomfort.
‘The Measure (in the First Degree) is taken thus:
‘Height, round neck, across the heart and across the genitals. The old custom is, if anyone were guilty of betraying the secrets, their measure was buried at midnight in a boggy place, with curses that “as the measure rots, so they will rot”.’
These instructions on binding will be seen to refer to two different things: the binding of an initiate, where the sole purpose is a proper feeling of helplessness, and binding to restrict the flow of blood to aid a trance condition. As the text emphasizes, the latter should be done very carefully; unless the instructions are followed meticulously, it could be dangerous.
On the taking of the measure — Doreen tells us that Gardner’s practice was to measure round the forehead, not round the neck; Today, when security is no longer a life-and-death matter, the measure is kept as a symbol of loyalty to the coven, not as a threat.
‘The Maiden should lead. A man should place both hands on her waist, standing behind her, and alternate men and women do the same, the Maiden leading and they dance following her. She at last leads them into a right-hand spiral. When the centre is reached (and this had better be marked by a stone) she suddenly turns round and dances back, kissing each man as she comes to him. All men and women turn likewise and dance back, men kissing girls and girls kissing men. All in time to music, it is a merry game, but must be practised to be done well. Note, the musician should watch the dancers and make the music fast or slow as is best. For the beginners it should be slow, or there will be confusion. It is most excellent to get people to know each other at big gatherings.’
A merry game indeed, and comment is hardly necessary — except to say that, while most Circle music these days is (sadly, perhaps) from tape or disc, this is certainly one of the occasions for using a musician if you have one. In our coven, we are lucky in having three members who can play the bodhrán (the Irish hand-drum, ideal for this Conga-type dance) and two guitarists. Such people should not be wasted.
‘Of old there were many chants and songs used, especially in the dances. Many of these have been forgotten by us here; but we know they used cries of IAU, HAU, which seems much like the cry of the ancients: EVO or EAVOE. Much dependeth on the pronunciation if this be so. In my youth when I heard the cry IAU it seemed to be AEIOU, or rather HAAEE IOOUU or AA EE IOOOOUU. This may be but the way to prolong it to make it fit for a call; but it suggests that these be the initials of an invocation, as AGLA used to be. And of sooth the whole Hebrew Alphabet is said to be such and for this reason is recited as a most powerful charm. At least this is certain, these cries during the dances do have a powerful effect, as I myself have seen.
‘Other calls are: IEHOUA and EHEIE. Also: HO HO HO ISE ISE ISE.
‘IEO VEO VEO VEO VEOV OROV OV OVOVO may be a spell, but is more likely to be a call. ‘Tis like the EVOE EVOE of the Greeks and the “Heave ho!” of sailors. “Emen hetan” and “Ab hur, ab hus” seem calls; as “Horse and hattock, horse and go! Horse and pellatis, ho, ho, ho!”
‘“Thout, tout a tout tout, throughout and about” and “Rentum tormentum” are probably mispronounced attempts at a forgotten formula, though they may have been invented by some unfortunate being tortured, to evade telling the real formula.’
Doreen tells us: ‘I copied this verbatim from Gerald’s book, as he in turn seems to have copied at least the first part from someone else’s older book, because Gerald could not have talked about being a witch “in my youth”.’
As with the passage Power, this one suggests an intelligent mind talking or writing about inherited material, and speculating on its sources and meaning. The style is modern with pseudo-archaic intrusions — the latter inserted, we would guess, by a copyist rather than by the original writer or speaker.
‘This was the old way. The circle was marked out and people stationed to whip up the dancers. A fire or candle was within it in the direction where the object of the rite was supposed to be. Then all danced round until they felt they had raised enough power. If the rite was to banish they started deosil and finished widdershins, so many rounds of each. Then they formed a line with linked hands and rushed towards the fire shouting the thing they wanted. They kept it up till they were exhausted or until someone fell in a faint, when they were said to have taken the spell to its destination.’
Doreen comments: ‘Gerald told me that this was the way in which the rites against Hitler’s invasion were worked in the New Forest during World War II. He said that there was a tradition that similar rituals had been worked against the Spanish Armada and against Napoleon.’
We would point out that, although this passage is headed The Cone of Power, it is only one particular (though certainly very powerful) application of the Cone, which is also envisaged as being raised by the Witches’ Rune and by such things as cord magic and linked-hand magic.
‘Learn of the spirit that goeth with burdens that have not honour, for ‘tis the spirit that stoopeth the shoulders and not the weight. Armour is heavy, yet it is a proud burden and a man standeth upright in it. Limiting and constraining any of the senses serves to increase the concentration of another. Shutting the eyes aids the hearing. So the binding of the initiate’s hands increases the mental perception, while the scourge increaseth the inner vision. So the initiate goeth through it proudly, like a princess, knowing it but serves to increase her glory.
‘But this can only be done by the aid of another intelligence and in a circle, to prevent the power thus generated being lost. Priests attempt to do the same with their scourgings and mortifications of the flesh. But lacking the aid of bonds and their attention being distracted by their scourging themselves and what little power they do produce being dissipated, as they do not usually work within a circle, it is little wonder that they oft fail. Monks and hermits do better, as they are apt to work in tiny cells and caves, which in some way act as circles. The Knights of the Temple, who used mutually to scourge each other in an octagon, did better still; but they apparently did not know the virtue of bonds and did evil, man to man.
‘But perhaps some did know? What of the Church’s charge that they wore girdles or cords?’
This looks to us like genuinely old material which has been copied and recopied (note the inconsistent use of the ‘-eth’ ending, a mistake that could easily creep in). The last two sentences look like a later copyist’s footnote — perhaps Gardner’s own, since Doreen says he was well-read on the subject of the Knights Templar.
‘Sight cometh to different people in divers ways; ‘tis seldom it cometh naturally, but it can be induced in many ways. Deep and prolonged meditation may do it, but only if you are a natural, and usually prolonged fasting is necessary. Of old the monks and nuns obtained visions by long vigils, combined with fasting and flagellation till blood came; other mortifications of the flesh were practised which resulted in visions.
‘In the East ‘tis tried with various tortures whilst sitting in a cramped position, which retarded the flow of blood; these tortures, long and continued, gave good results.
‘In the Art, we are taught an easier way, that is, to intensify the imagination, at the same time controlling the blood supply, and this may best be done by using the ritual.
‘Incense is good to propitiate the spirits, also to induce relaxation to the aspirant and to help build up the atmosphere which is necessary for suggestibility. Myrrh, Gum Mastic, Aromatic Rush Roots, Cinnamon Bark, Musk, Juniper, Sandalwood and Ambergris, in combination, are all good, but the best of all is Patchouli.
‘The circle being formed, and everything properly prepared, the aspirant should first bind and take his tutor into the circle, invoke suitable spirits for the operation, dance round till giddy, meanwhile invoking and announcing the object of the work, then he should use the flagellum. Then the tutor should in turn bind the aspirant — but very lightly, so as not to cause discomfort — but enough to retard the blood slightly. Again they should dance round, then at the Altar the tutor should use the flagellum with light, steady, slow and monotonous strokes. It is very important that the pupil should see the strokes coming, as this has the effect of passing, and helps greatly to stimulate the imagination. It is important that the strokes be not hard, the object being to do no more than draw the blood to that part and away from the brain; this, with the light binding, slowing down the circulation of the blood, and the passes, soon induces a drowsy stupor. The tutor should watch for this, and as soon as the aspirant speaks or sleeps the flagellum should cease. The tutor should also watch that the pupil become not cold, and if the pupil struggles or seems distressed he should at once be awakened.
‘Be not discouraged if no results come at the first experiment — results usually occur after two or three attempts. It will be found that after two or three attempts or experiments results will come, and soon more quickly; also soon much of the ritual may be shortened, but never forget to invoke the Goddess or to form the circle, and for good results ‘tis ever better to do too much ritual rather than too little at first.
‘It has been found that this practice doth often cause a fondness between aspirant and tutor, and it is a cause of better results if this be so. If for any reason it is undesirable there be any great fondness between aspirant and tutor this may easily be avoided by both parties from the onset, by firmly resolving in their minds that if any fondness ensues it shall be that of brother and sister, or parent and child, and it is for this reason that a man may only be taught by a woman and a woman by a man, and that man and man or woman and woman should never attempt these practices together, and may all the curses of the Mighty Ones be on any who make such an attempt.
‘Remember, the circle properly constructed is ever necessary to prevent the power released being dissipated; it is also a barrier against any disturbing or mischievous forces; for to obtain good results you must be free from all disturbances.
‘Remember, darkness, points of light gleaming amid the surrounding dark, incense, and the steady passes by a white arm, are not as stage effects; they are mechanical instruments which serve to start the suggestion which later unlocks the knowledge that it is possible to obtain the divine ecstasy, and so attain knowledge and communion with the Divine Goddess. When once you have attained this, ritual is needless, as you may attain the state of ecstasy at will, but till then, or if, having obtained or attained it yourself, you wish to bring a companion to that state of joy, ritual is best.’
‘‘Tis not wise to strive to get out of your body until you have thoroughly gained the Sight. The same ritual as to gain the Sight may be used, but have a comfortable couch. Kneel so that you have your thigh, belly and chest well supported, the arms strained forward and bound one on each side, so that there is a decided feeling of being pulled forward. As the trance is induced, you should feel a striving to push yourself out of the top of your head. The scourge should be given a dragging action, as if to drive or drag you out. Both wills should be thoroughly in tune, keeping a constant and equal strain. When trance comes, your tutor may help you by softly calling your name. You will probably feel yourself drawn out of your body as if through a narrow opening, and find yourself standing beside your tutor, looking at the body on the couch. Strive to communicate with your tutor first; if they have the Sight they will probably see you. Go not far afield at first, and ‘tis better to have one who is used to leaving the body with you.
‘A note: When, having succeeded in leaving the body, you desire to return, in order to cause the spirit body and the material body to coincide, THINK OF YOUR FEET. This will cause the return to take place.’
This is the longest non-ritual passage in Gardner’s Book of Shadows, and we infer that it describes a practice which was central to the tradition and activities of the New Forest coven which trained him. It is explained carefully, with meticulous emphasis on the tutor-pupil relationship and on the necessary practical, psychic and inter-personal safeguards. The purpose of the not-too-tight binding and the deliberately light scourging is plain: to help to bring about what may variously be called clairvoyance, expansion of consciousness, opening up the levels, opening up the Third Eye, or communion with the Goddess; and, at a more advanced stage, astral projection. (It is interesting that the text uses none of the technical terms of contemporary occultism or psychical research such as ‘astral projection’ or ‘astral body’; this strongly suggests a tradition handed down person-to-person from, at the very least, earlier than the second half of the nineteenth century.) To distort this into an allegation that Gardner himself had an unhealthy urge to flagellation, whether sadistic or masochistic (and the procedure described above is clearly neither), is nonsense.
There may be differences of opinion about whether the procedure described could be dangerous; what cannot be denied is that the text goes to great pains to ensure that it will be safe, and to stop it at once if there is any doubt.
Doreen’s comment: ‘The reason we used the scourge is a very simple one — it works! What old Gerald had described is a very practical way of making magic. I speak from experience when I say that it does what he claimed it to do, and I don’t care what anyone says about being “kinky” or whatever. Perhaps it has become associated with kinky sexual matters; but long before that it was part of very ancient mystical and magical practices. You can find mention of it from Ancient Egypt and from Ancient Greece; and no doubt you are familiar with the famous scene from the Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii which shows a new initiate being scourged — a point which Gerald referred to in Witchcraft Today. Although the description in To Get the Sight particularly refers to the obtaining of clairvoyance, I have found it very inducive to magical visualisation also.’
What we feel should be emphasized (as the Book of Shadows does) is that when the scourge is used in Wiccan practice, no pain should be either inflicted or expected; it is always used gently. Its purpose is either symbolic (as for example in the Legend of the Descent of the Goddess) or to induce trance by light hypnosis and the redistribution of blood circulation.
‘There are no magical supply shops, so unless you are lucky enough to be given or sold tools a poor witch must extemporise. But when made you should be able to borrow or obtain an Athame. So having made your circle, erect an altar. Any small table or chest will do. There must be fire on it (a candle will suffice) and your book. For good results incense is best if you can get it, but coals in a chafing dish burning sweet-smelling herbs will do. A cup if you would have cakes and wine and a platter with the signs drawn into the same in ink, showing a pentacle. A scourge is easily made (note, the scourge has eight tails and five knots in each tail). Get a white-hilted knife and a wand (a sword is not necessary). Cut the marks with Athame. Purify everything, then consecrate your tools in proper form and ever be properly prepared. But ever remember, magical operations are useless unless the mind can be brought to the proper attitude, keyed to the utmost pitch.
‘Affirmations must be made clearly, and the mind should be inflamed with desire. With this frenzy of will you may do as much with simple tools as with the most complete set. But good and especially ancient tools have their own aura. They do help to bring about that reverential spirit, the desire to learn and develop your powers. For this reason witches ever try to obtain tools from sorcerers, who being skilled men make good tools and consecrate them well, giving them mighty power. But a great witch’s tools also gain much power; and you should ever strive to make any tools you manufacture of the finest materials you can obtain, to the end that they may absorb your power the more easily. And of course if you may inherit or obtain another witch’s tools, power will flow from them.’
The statement ‘there are no magical supply shops’ is of course no longer true; and there have been other developments in Wiccan practice since this passage was written. Although a sword is not strictly necessary (the athame serving the same purposes), most covens now like to have one — a symbol of coven identity in contrast to the athames, which are symbols of each individual witch’s identity.
Also, for most covens the cup or chalice is one of the more important symbols (representing the female principle and also the element of Water) and not a mere accessory ‘if you would have cakes and wine’, though the apparent downgrading of the cup in this text may have been a deliberate ‘blind’, for the reasons which Gardner was given and which we explain.
But apart from these minor points, the principles laid down in this passage are as valid as ever.
We find interesting the implication that witches may have been in touch with ‘sorcerers’ (meaning what we would call today ‘ritual magicians’).
‘It is an old belief that the best substances for making tools are those that have once had life in them, as opposed to artificial substances. Thus, wood or ivory is better for a wand than metal, which is more appropriate for swords or knives. Virgin parchment is better than manufactured paper for talismans, etc. And things which have been made by hand are good, because there is life in them.’
Comment would be superfluous.
‘Take a glazed pan half full of grease or olive oil. Put in sweet mint leaves bruised. Place pan in hot water bath. Stir occasionally. After four or five hours pour into linen bag and squeeze grease through into pot again and fill with fresh leaves. Repeat until grease is strongly scented. Do same with marjoram, thyme and pounded dried patchouli leaves, an you may have them (for they be best of all). When strongly scented, mix all the greases together and keep in a well-stoppered jar.
‘Anoint behind ears, throat, breasts and womb. In rites where “Blessed be …” may be said, anoint knees and feet, as also for rites connected with journeys or war.’
Our old friend the pseudo-archaic copyist has been at work again here; a couple of his favourite clichés stick out like sore thumbs in this obviously modern text. But the recipe itself is worth trying and is quite possibly much older than the present wording.
‘Journeys or war’: smelling of mint, marjoram, thyme and patchouli in the London Underground, or in the front rank of No. 4 Platoon, may not be everyone’s idea of practical magic. But to be serious — the devising and preparation of body-ointments to suit individual witches’ personalities, or the emphasis of particular rites, is well worth pursuing, especially if you have a coven member who is gifted at such things. But their use is best confined to the Magic Circle, and (unless you want to spend half your spare time washing robes) to skyclad practice.
‘A note upon the ritual of the Wine and Cakes. It is said that in olden days ale or mead was often used instead of wine. It is said that spirits or anything can be used, “so long as it has life” (i.e. has a kick).’
We question the modern addition in the brackets. ‘Has life’ seems to us more likely to mean ‘is of organic origin’. Mead is a favourite witches’ drink and would bear out this point by being both vegetable and animal in origin, since it is based on honey, which bees make from flower nectar. Beer was the ritual drink of the ancient Egyptians.
‘All are brothers and sisters, for this reason; that even the High Priestess must submit to the scourge.’
When she is giving someone his second degree initiation, for example.
‘The only exception to the rule that a man only be initiated by a woman and a woman by a man, is that a mother may initiate her daughter and a father his son, because they are part of themselves.’
We were taught that mother-daughter, father-son initiations were permissible ‘in an emergency’. It is interesting that Gardner’s Book of Shadows makes no such qualification.
‘A woman may impersonate either the God or the Goddess, but a man may only impersonate the God.’
A woman witch takes on a male role by buckling on the sword.
‘Ever remember, if tempted to admit or boast of belonging to the cult, you be endangering your brothers and sisters. For though now the fires of persecution have died down, who knows when they may be revived? Many priests have knowledge of our secrets and they full well know that much religious bigotry has died down or calmed down, that many people would wish to join our cult if the truth were known of its joys and the churches would lose power. So if we take many recruits we may loose the fires of persecution against us again. So ever keep the secrets.’
This would appear to be a fair observation and warning from the period after the persecution centuries, but before the twentieth-century occult and witchcraft revival. The situation has changed vastly in recent decades. But every witch should bear in mind that persecution, in one form or another, could always rear its ugly head again. And even now, it should be an absolute rule that no witch’s membership of the Craft may be revealed except by his or her own free choice.
‘Those taking part in a rite must know exactly what results they wish to attain and must all keep their minds firmly fixed on the desired result, without wavering.’
Again, no comment is called for.
Doing our best to be impartial — what overall impression do we get from these texts, and indeed from the Book of Shadows as a whole?
We get the firm impression of an old and continuing tradition handed on at first by word of mouth, and later (perhaps some time in the nineteenth century) in writing; gathering interpretations, additions and the occasional misunderstanding as it progressed; in the written stage, sometimes put down by a teacher and sometimes taken down in dictation during training. The variety of styles, the occasional first-person sentence, the odd sentence which has become confused — even our friend the pseudo-archaic copyist — all seem to us to confirm this human picture. But the basic spirit, and the consistent wisdom, of the message seems to shine through it all.
The one impression that it does not give, by any stretch of the imagination, is that of a total invention by Gerald Gardner — or, come to that, by Old Dorothy or anybody else.