Another walk and I find occult markings chalked on the path to Fort Clarence in Rochester…
Recently I noticed an upsurge in interest for this site, which got me to thinking about why I’ve been neglecting it so much.
Mainly it was a niggling doubt that’s been going round my mind after finding this artefact (see picture) near my front doorstep shortly after some speculative posts I had made.
It kerbed my interest in the mysterious for a while – I haven’t been able to identify it – but it appears to be a series of occult symbols/runes/enochian/mystery language inscribed on a bone in brown ink or possibly…. pause for a shudder… blood.
That combined with ill health and some personal setbacks (which I hope are all coincidental) I’ve had less time on my hands. I hope to make this a summer of exploration though and will do my best to make some more regular additions.
The Textus Roffensis (The Book of Rochester – a register of the cathedral) It comes from the episcopacy of Ernulf, so that it is more than 800 years old. It was presumably written by a scribe in the monastery, perhaps Humphrey the Precentor.
[It includes] “…special masses to be used for ordeals by water and by fire, with directions for carrying out the ordeals.”
Surely never was there heard such a terrible curse as Ernulf found in these pages, for the unhappy evildoer is cursed by the Holy Trinity, the archangels, the patriarchs and prophets; he is cursed living and dying, eating and drinking, in his hunger and in his thirst, in his sleeping and in his waking, in his walking and in his standing, in his working and in his resting. Everything about him is cursed, his brain, his hair, his eyes, his mouth, his legs and arms, and every part of him no foregetting even his nails. “Fiat, fiat, Amen,” end this famous (or infamous) curse lying in these books for 800 years with nobody one penny the worse.”
So the Cathedral – beautiful and impressive a creation as it is, has it’s roots steeped in the blood of those drowned and burned in its name. No doubt these Homeland Security measures against the witchywisdom of the day seemed reasonable – but amid the welter of torture and ecclesiastical murder they failed to notice what Arthur Mee did – that the text of this excommunication is nothing but a curse – as satanic as anything they hoped to combat. Like imprisonment without trial being used to promote “freedom” – damning a soul in the name of Christ’s mercy is a circle that cannot be squared.