The Black Alchemist: A Terrifying True Story

by Andrew Collins

  I tried another banishment ritual. This time it seemed to have some sort of effect, as he gradually began to push himself up off the ground. But still he appeared to be in a state of mental torment—stumbling about aimlessly, until his hand reached out and grabbed hold of a gravestone, which he used to support himself as he mumbled something about having ‘been hit’ and wanting to ‘earth’ himself.

  Constantly, I talked to him hoping he would snap out of this terrifying mental torment. Then, and only then, did he start to recover.

  It was time to leave.

  Taking his arm, I helped him out of the churchyard. Inside the lychgate, he slumped onto its wooden bench. I could see he was still weak, both mentally and physically. So, in an attempt to get him to regain some of his lost vital energy, I led him through a simple aura building exercise. It took several painstaking minutes before he recovered fully, and as I waited for him to speak, he took out and lit a cigarette.

  So, what the hell had happened out there?

  He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and actually began to look as if life was returning to him, ‘Well, it began after we’d found the stone,’ he started. ‘Its retrieval drained me and I started to feel sick and weak. I also felt as if my protective shield was fast disappearing.’

  He drew deep on his cigarette before continuing. ‘I tried to get away, but then I saw and felt something hit me at great speed. I don’t know what it was. All I saw was like a concentration of darkness, shaped like a ball. It just came at me and entered my stomach, after which I hit the ground, and that was it.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘The next thing I remember was you shouting behind me. I got up and just knew I had to earth whatever was inside me. That’s why I grabbed the gravestone. I pushed it into the earth and things seemed to get better after that.’

  Many psychics believe it is possible to earth negative energies by mentally pushing them into a stone heavily rooted to the ground—like a standing stone or gravestone, for instance. So it made sense. Yet I needed to know whether my banishment had worked.

  ‘Yes, I think so. It certainly helped,’ he admitted. ‘But I felt the need to earth the force in some way.

  Accepting his word, we walked across to the car.

  Bernard was reaching a point of absolute exhaustion. I could see it in his eyes. There was no way he could continue on the quest to the Running Well unless he regained his strength. He was the driver, so if anything else tried to get at him it could easily result in disaster.

  We now needed to know exactly what was going on at the well, and what to do when we got there.

  To this end Bernard needed to make contact with his spirit guide, the Elizabethan alchemist. This he would only be able to do in a fit state of mind. So we needed to rest somewhere.

  Along the road into Wickford was a pub called The Downham Arms. I suggested we stop there. We could have a quiet drink, suss out the situation and open the sealed black envelope. See what was inside that.

  Without much thought, Bernard agreed.

  15 The Downham Arms

  It’s not often that a young man strolls conspicuously into a family pub dressed in a leather biker’s jacket, jeans and boots, holding a wooden crucifix over a sealed black envelope. Upon realising this, I rapidly tried to secrete the cross and envelope about my person whilst ordering drinks.

  Sitting down opposite Bernard, I pulled out the black envelope and stared at it apprehensively, dreading what it might contain. Still, I had decided it was the correct time and place to reveal its contents so, with some slight hesitation, I used Bernard’s penknife to slit open its lip.

  Peeking inside, I saw it contained various bits and pieces. There was a large orange-red crystal of some sort. I could also make out a couple of pieces of paper, and another black envelope, sealed and folded in two. Lastly, I could see some folded sheets of paper, which looked as if they were pages from a book.

  The crystal bounced onto the table as I slowly tilted the envelope. Quite understandably, Bernard refused to touch it. It was about half an inch square and made of a translucent substance of very little weight. Leaving it between the stained beer mats and ashtray, I slipped out the white sheets of paper. Immediately, I recognised what they were—four pages torn from my book The Running Well Mystery—pages 31 to 34, to be more precise.

  Involuntarily, I gulped at the sight.

  Various words and sentences had been underlined or lined through with a red fibre-tipped pen, as if to emphasise their importance or irrelevance. Their subject matter seemed connected with our current predicament, since they featured one of the most memorable of the folktales associated with the Running Well—the story of the Prioress’s Ring.

  It concerned a magical, talismanic ring of office that had belonged to the prioress of a medieval convent thought to have served the holy well. The essence of the legend spoke of the ring’s topaz stone being used by the prioress as a kind of scrying glass to keep a watchful eye on the activities of the young novices.

  Yet it was the way in which the magical ring had been endowed with its talismanic properties that had intrigued me at the time of writing the book. Apparently, the prioress fasted for nine days and nine nights. On the final night she witnessed the Virgin Mary entering the convent through an open window on a moonbeam, which had slowly swept across a table until it illuminated the talismanic stone.

  As I proposed in The Running Well Mystery, this curious legend seemed to embody a much older tradition—one of aligning ancient sites towards prominent solar and lunar risings and settings at certain times of the year. The legend of the Prioress’s Ring was used also in the book as evidence of my belief that the Runwell landscape, which included the Running Well, was associated with the influence of the moon.

  Anyway, the words underlined were as follows:

  … denied the balm of sleep for nine … nights . .. Rested a ring of noble dignity … gold … topaz … black … secret words … talisman … watch and ward … ring … talisman … which could, henceforth, be used to keep an ever-watchful eye … various mystical overtones … denied the balm of sleep … nine … powers … moon … ring … alchemy … setting sun on a specific date in the year … energies … dormant natural forces … power centres … altars in the east … giving light, life [with the word ‘light’ crossed through] … pure gold … practices of age-old cultures … bringing life … ring … ring … gold ring … topaz … 1514 (AD) … talismanic qualities … Where was the ring now? … three giant hounds ‘dun coloured with eyes a-fire, foam dripping jaws and savage teeth that gnashed.’

  Some of the words and sentences highlighted bore no obvious relevance to the situation, but the rest clearly did. In a sense, the whole exercise could be interpreted as a kind of cryptic message directed at me, provided that one read between the lines, so to speak.

  Leaving the torn out pages for a moment, I turned my attention to the remaining contents of the black envelope. Tipping it upside down allowed three small pieces of paper to fall out. Each was a cutting taken from The Radio Times magazine. On the first was the word ‘you’, and on the second were the words ‘who looks after’. The third showed the front cover of a recently published book entitled The Power of the Mind, put together from articles originally published in The Unexplained, a newsstand magazine on ancient and more modern mysteries. The cutting had obviously been taken from an advertisement for some kind of ‘mysteries’ book club.

  So, when placed together, the message read: ‘ You who looks after the power of the mind’.

  The Radio Times issue used to construct the message was recent, as on the back of one cutting were snippets of a programme guide mentioning the 1986 Liberal/SDP Alliance party’s annual conference held at Eastbourne in Sussex, which had ended just ten days earlier.

  Even though Bernard had picked up that the Black Alchemist lived in Eastbourne, I decided this had to be a bizarre coincidence. Nothing more.

  With the cuttings still scattered across the table, alongsi
de the orange-red crystal and torn out pages, I pulled out the envelope’s final item—the folded black envelope. Shaking it, I realised it contained some loose items, so hesitantly slit it open. They turned out to be further fragments of the crystalline solid found in the first envelope. With them were two more cuttings from The Radio Times. One read ‘say goodbye’, and the other was another book cover from the same ‘mysteries’ book club advertisement. Its title: Life after Death!

  I positioned the final two cuttings at the end of the first three and read out the complete message:

  You who looks after the power of the mind, say goodbye. Life after Death.

  It was a death threat! Well, that’s the way it looked at least. So the macabre jigsaw was beginning to take shape. Somehow the Black Alchemist had managed to link my name with the interference of his dark rituals, probably through a contact in the magical community, or perhaps through psychic means. He then obtained a copy of The Running Well Mystery— which, incidentally, had been out of print for three years—and, upon reading it, realised its association with the various ancient and sacred sites in the landscape around Wickford and Runwell. He had then familiarised himself with their history, legends and apparent psychic influence in readiness for some kind of concerted effort to eliminate both me and Bernard, whose name he did not appear to know.

  If this was the case, then perhaps he was leading us into some kind of ritual trap, which we would encounter at the well. Whether he intended eliminating us by psychic attack or sawn-off shotgun, I did not wish to think. Bernard’s impression that the man was still in the area did nothing to calm my nerves.

  However, there appeared to be more to the Black Alchemist’s plans than simply this. The statements and words underlined within the torn-out pages spoke of ‘denying the balm of sleep for nine nights’, which suggested that once we had walked into the ritual trap we had just night nights to live. This provided a culmination date of Wednesday, 15th October. So, by this date, if the Black Alchemist had his way, both Bernard and I would be experiencing life after death!

  I tried to make a joke of the whole thing, but Bernard was not laughing.

  25. The contents of the black envelope addressed to ‘Andrew Brian Collins’ found concealed in Runwell church’s south porch. Quite rightly, he felt this was a very serious matter. The Black Alchemist was not only an adept magician and a dangerous psychic, he was also, in our opinion, an unbalanced, and very devious, psychopath who wanted to cause us real harm.

  At Bernard’s suggestion, I changed the mood of conversation by asking him about the daydream he’d experienced at work earlier that day in which he had seen four black cowled figures with batons side-stepping around a fifth character attired in red, thought to be the Black Alchemist.

  The four figures in black represented, I was pretty sure, the four churches making up the Ring of Darkness. In which case, the central figure in red signified both the Running Well and the orange-red crystals found in the sealed envelope. Maybe the Black Alchemist had been trying to use the crystals to forge a psychic link with me, in the same way that the Prioress used the topaz ring to keep a watchful eye on the convent’s young novices.

  Shifting the subject of conversation again, I brought up the name ‘Talbot’, which Bernard had picked up shortly after the discovery of the inscribed stone and sealed black envelope in Runwell churchyard.

  Talbot, or Edward Talbot, to give him his full name, was, I realised at last, the true identity of Dr John Dee’s close friend and accomplice Edward Kelley (1555-1597). He too was an accomplished alchemist as well as Dee’s scryer, or spirit communicator, who, for many years, trafficked with denizens of unseen worlds on behalf of the Elizabethan magus.

  I knew the pair used a crystal ball, as well as a black obsidian scrying mirror, to make contact with spirits, angels, and archangels. Kelley had also been a bit of a rogue—a fact that has often led scholars to doubt the authenticity of his spirit communications.

  So, did Bernard feel that the name ‘Talbot’ was a reference to Dee’s sidekick, Edward Kelley?

  As usual, Bernard simply shrugged his shoulders with a smile. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

  I left the subject. What we now needed was a directive of some kind. We needed to know what to expect when we arrived at the Running Well, otherwise we could find ourselves in serious trouble either on a psychic or physical level. I asked Bernard if he would try to communicate with his spirit guide, the Elizabethan alchemist. Perhaps he would be able to throw some light on what was happening at the well.

  Bernard nodded in agreement. ‘Okay, but I don’t suppose I’ll get much,’ he insisted, finishing off his drink. ‘However, I’m not doing it here. Let’s go out to the car. It’ll be quieter out there.’

  As the first noisy revellers spilled out of the pub’s double doors and ambled noisily back towards their cars, Bernard sat silently contemplating the presence of his sixteenth-century spirit guide. Glancing at the car clock, I noticed the time. It was 10.15 pm.

  Waiting for some sort of response, I stared into the darkness, before I heard the familiar sound of Bernard’s hand scribbling at a fast pace.

  A minute or so later, the psychic stopped writing and handed me the notepad. Switching on the torch, I focused my eyes on the scrawled sentences:

  [He, BA] Is practising the [magical] art and carry[ing] to extreme psychic level. Sees water as Mercury. Is using the crystal as Dee on table of many colours. Talbot killed himself. Jumped from window. No contact is possible with him. The table is on many seals as Dee. Uses the Elder of URIEL. Knows of involvement with Glaston. Tries to contact many of the departed souls of the art. Table of many colours stands on seals. Draws the energies. Mind power is very strong. Knows much of ancient laws and Treatise. Energy flow at well now very dark.

  From what he had written, it was quite clear that the earlier mention of someone called ‘Talbot’ was indeed a reference to Dee’s sidekick, Edward Kelley.

  Kelley died in 1597 as a result of a fall incurred whilst attempting to escape from a castle in Bohemia, a historical region of central Europe. Apparently, the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolph II (1576-1612) had imprisoned Kelley in the castle of Krivoklát in what is today the Czech Republic, ordering him to accomplish the alchemical transmutation of base metal into gold, otherwise he could hope to die in captivity.

  Kelley did, however, manage to escape in 1593, losing a leg in the process. He was then recaptured and submitted to a second confinement in the more secure castle of Hnevin, also in the Czech republic.

  Although Kelley is rumoured to have completed the alchemical transmutation, the emperor refused to let him go, forcing the English alchemist to attempt another escape. It failed miserably, leaving him in great pain. He died shortly afterwards.

  The reference in the automatic script to ‘Glaston’, i.e. Glastonbury, stemmed from the fact that Edward Kelley, with or without Dee’s help, is alleged to have found in its famous abbey ruins (or a local churchyard) a glass phial containing ‘the Elixir of Life’, which could be used to turn base metal into gold.

  The story is, however, apocryphal, and might never have happened, even though there is some evidence that Dee had family connections in the area.

  Dee and Kelley certainly used magical seals to call upon the denizens of the spirit world. They were inscribed in a strange script known as the Enochian or angelic alphabet, originally conveyed to the pair during psychic communications. Among their communicants were the archangels Gabriel, who presided over the element of Water, and Uriel, who governed the element of Earth.

  26. Dr John Dee’s

  accomplice, the

  alchemist and

  scryer Edward

  Kelley (1555-1597),

  who died following

  a failed attempt to

  escape from a

  castle in Bohemia.

  So, BA not only believed he was in psychic communication with Dee, but he also used the Elizabethan magus’s Enochian system to call
upon the same angelic forces.

  The reference in the text to a ‘table of many colours’, standing on seals, meant nothing to either of us, although it made sense that Dee and Kelley should have strengthened their contact with the unseen realms through such a process.

  Other than this, the automatic script was not enough. We needed more.

  Bernard accepted this and so, once more, sat with his pen poised over a clean sheet in the notepad.

  The car clock showed the time was now 10.30 pm.

  The pen again began to scribble out words. On finishing, he handed me the pad.

  Turning on the torch, I read the new message:

  To undo the Mercuric black flow [at the well] you must use the opposite force for a short duration. You must use gold and the heavenly body.

  Although the communication was brief, it told me precisely what to do. The Running Well, as I pointed out in The Running Well Mystery, is associated with the power, energy and influence of the moon. In the Western mystery tradition this is usually personified as a female goddess, or spirit form. Such lunar influenced sites include nearly all sacred and mystical places associated with water, such as springs, pools, waterfalls and lakes. Each exudes subtle energies a good psychic will see as a silvery-blue light that is slow and graceful in movement.

  Other types of site, such as standing stones, stone circles, dolmens, chambered mounds and holy hills, might be seen as attributed to the moon’s equal and opposite force—the sun, the ‘heavenly body’ of Bernard’s message. Such places are usually spoken of as male in aspect, with a purpose, tradition and psychic influence connected with the sun and solar worship. They are usually presided over by male deities and spirit guardians. A good psychic will see these solar energies as either gold or orangeyellow in colour, and generally fast moving and radiant in splendour.

  It now appeared as if the Black Alchemist had deliberately invoked, harnessed, and then changed the Running Well’s inherent lunar energies to give him the necessary grip over the site he required to conduct his dark ritual. In doing so, he had disharmonised and blackened the well’s energy flow. Therefore, if Bernard and I had reached the well and nonchalantly attuned to its natural energies, we might easily have fallen under the control of the Black Alchemist’s ritual trap.