Journal of Geomancy vol. 3 no. 3, April 1979
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In recent years, the old theory that geomancy was a thing of mere historical interest has given way to a realization that secret societies like the Freemasons and certain elements within the Catholic and Anglican churches are still practising a form of geomantic art. Work undertaken by the author on the modern Anglican cathedrals of Liverpool, Coventry and Guildford has revealed features of siting, consecration and detail which, if displayed by a medieval cathedral would be a sure sign of practical esoterism in action. This article is about Guildford Cathedral, the last gothic cathedral to be started in England.
In 1932, five years after the formation of the diocese of Guildford from out of part of the old diocese of Winchester, an open competition was held for a new cathedral. 183 architects entered, and Edward Maufe’s design was chosen. In 1933, the Earl of Onslow donated a prime geomantic site for the cathedral – the summit of Stag Hill, the highest point in the vicinity of Guildford.
To mark the omphalos, a cross made of teak from the ship HMS Ganges was set up, and the ground-plan was perambulated by
the clergy and their attendants in the age-old manner. A huge number of piles was driven into the hill in order to set
the foundation – 778 in all.
This number, and the symbol taken for the cathedral, is of gematrial interest.
In gematria, numbers represent their Greek or Hebrew counterpart letters. 777 + 1 (colel, = ± 1, an
acceptable variation in gematria conventions) is equal to 37 × 21, traditionally the number of
ΣΤΑΥΡΟΣ – the Cross. At that time, the logo to the right of this wodge
of type was chosen as the emblem which would henceforth represent the cathedral and all its associated activities.
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In 1936, full ritual was again used in the laying of the foundation stone of the cathedral by the archbishop of
Canterbury. In 1937, the last pile was driven with the aid of Queen Mary, and work went ahead until the war brought it
to a standstill. The projected date of consecration of 1941 was put off, and work did not resume again until 1948. The
final completion and consecration was not until 17th May 1961, exactly 20 years after it had been originally intended.
The cathedral’s orientation, unlike those at Liverpool and Coventry, which are S–N and N–S respectively, is on the traditional E–W axis, with the altar at the east. Internally and externally, there are key symbols and carvings which indicate the esoteric purpose of the structure.
The rose window above the high altar depicts the dove and the gifts of the holy spirit, which the cathedral is dedicated to. At the crossing, the omphalos of the church from which Maufe derived its ad triangulum (vesica-based) geometry, the highest point of Stag Hill, there is a small leaping metal stag set into the floor. The official explanation for the inclusion of this seemingly pagan–geomantic emblem is that it is a reminder of the time when the Kings of England used to hunt in the district. However, elsewhere in the cathedral, high up on the outside of the tower, is a more esoteric reminder – the carving on the south-facing side of St. Hubert, the patron of the Royal Chase over which he looks.
This tower has four guardians of the directions, continuing the age-old tradition of the guardians of the four quarters which occurs in geomantic lore throughout the globe.
The east is guarded by St. Blaise, patron of the Guildford Woolmen of the middle ages. The South has St. Hubert, the West, St. Augustine, founder of the archbishopric of Canterbury. On the North is St. Swithin, now famed for his 40 day rain curse, but in reality the most loved prelate of Winchester. The four guardians thus reproduce the attributes of the sacred sites in the directions to which they face.
Mystic dimensions are uncommon in modern buildings. The structures designed by inspired architects like Gaudí, Bragdon or Steiner according to transcendent principles are notable in their material difference from the average edifices of commerce. Even in cathedrals, poured concrete usually takes precedence over the numbers of knowledge. At Guildford, the ancient transcendent measure used by the master architect Wren at St. Paul’s was used by Maufe for the internal length. This number, 365, in addition to being the number of days in a year, which makes the church symbolic of God’s year and hence the whole of progressive creation in Christian mythology, is the number of ABRAXAS, knowledge, and from it the magic word ABRACADABRA, now devolved into {76} the status of conjurors mumbo-jumbo, is derived. Kerrich, in his unpublished musings on the geometry of King’s College Chapel, recently rediscovered, attributes these letters to the 11 divisions between the twelve severies of the vaulting of this gothic masterpiece. In Hebrew qabbalistic calculation, this word is equivalent to the number 416, the side of the mystically revealed City of Ezekiel.
In addition to the gematrial length and the guardians of the four quarters, the cathedral is laid out with ad triangulum geometry. Starting at the omphalos on the apex of Stag Hill, a system of rhombs is developed with the use of the equilateral triangles (and thus a series of vesicae piscibus). Every feature of the cathedral is defined by these geometric figures and their intersections, harmonically relating each part to the others, and thence, through the universal geometry via the matrix of cathedral–church–chapel (a sustaining grid), to the divine harmony of the universe.
A visit to Guildford cathedral is recommended to anyone of an esoteric inclination. The ‘keys’ are there for anyone to read. What we can make of it is disputable. Are they a remnant of a nearly-lost system which have been used for ‘old times’ sake’, with little knowledge behind them, or are they a latter-day continuation of a venerable and living tradition, still practised behind the bolted doors of masonic lodges? All we can do is look, and judge. The Chapter House is octagonal, with an ‘eye of light’ issuing from the roof. It was donated by Ronald Wates, the builder. The wrought iron gates of the Lady Chapel, which is built in a different style from the rest of the cathedral, were donated by the Freemasons of Surrey. Similar ‘keys’ abound. In a future article, I will deal with the strange case of Coventry Cathedral, as there are many aspects of Ritual Magic in the Church of England to be unravelled – for example, see the Bishop of Exeter’s report on Exorcism, 1972, outlined in Tom Graves’s excellent book Needles of Stone.