DOMOVOY
V.
⸻
Blavatsky sat at her desk facing a large window looking which looked into the green leafy trees of Holland Park. Before her, and all around her, were heaps of papers, pamphlets, books, manuscripts, and a small bible for reference.[1] She knew her Bible well, though to her it was only one of many sacred books, all sacred to her; for through her Theosophy—she taught to drop the final “s” from religions. A deep student of perennial philosophy, some of her interpretations were “electrical.” The esoteric meaning of God on His Throne, to Blavatsky, meant only that man must build his temple in his own heart, and once said that the suffragettes could not be regarded as consistent “until they put the Virgin Mary back in heaven.” To Blavatsky, Christ’s final words: “Eli! Eli! Lama Sabachthani,” interpreted by the heterodox to be the sorrowful “My God! My God! Why hast thou forsaken Me!” were transformed in her hermeneutics. She explained that in the Hebrew language, vowels were left to the imagination, or only indicated by easily-confused dots and dashes. Some missing sign could restore lost and precious significance. In Blavatsky’s translation, Christ’s final words were thus: “My God! My God! Thou hast glorified Me!”
Blavatsky placed the plate with the remains of her small lunch on a nearby table next to a bunch of flowers in a diminutive vase. She picked up, again, the newspaper which sizzled her nerves several times that morning.
“Lelya, why are you reading it again?” said Vera Petrovna. “Think of your health.”
“Read what?” said Verochka, who just entered the room.
Vera Petrovna gave her a “look.”
“‘The freedom of philosophizing,’” sneered Blavatsky. “Flapdoodle!”
In early August, British papers were reported on statements made by Francis Landey Patton, the new President of Princeton University, in an address he delivered at the farewell ceremonies of his predecessor, James McCosh.
“Here is what this Patton says,” said Blavatsky:
These words I make my own today, and help me God, during the time of my administration, Princeton shall keep faith with the dead. [With reference academic freedom, Patton said:] The trustees have responsibilities, so have the professors. These limit freedom. We have no scientific confession of faith, but we would not let a communist teach political economy, nor Mr. Jasper astronomy, nor one the Flat-land people instruct in physical geography. We would not allow Mr. Sinnett to teach esoteric philosophy, or entertain a class with Madame Blavatsky’s vagaries, because we believe in the freedom philosophising. We should also close our doors the crude idealism professed by the so-called Christian Scientists and the metaphysical healers. It is not part of university freedom to open its halls of science and philosophy to men who teach atheism or belittle the Christian faith.[2]
“Those who will swallow a camel of whatever size—provided it hails from orthodox or accepted authorities—will strain and kick at the smallest gnat, if only its buzz comes from theosophical regions,” said Blavatsky. She reached for her Matara tobacco basket that was just beyond her hand, and taking a generous portion of the pungent leaf, deftly rolled a cigarette. “Nine-tenths of the people will reject the most overwhelming evidence, even if it be brought to them without any trouble to themselves, only because it happens to clash with their personal interests or prejudices—especially if it comes from unpopular quarters. We are living in a highly moral atmosphere, high sounding—in words. In practice, however, the morality of this age—in point of genuineness and reality—is of the nature of the skin paint in a minstrel show, that is to say, assumed for show and pay, and washed off at the close of every performance. In sober truth, our opponents—advocates of ‘official science,’ defenders of orthodox religion, and the tutti quanti of the detractors of Theosophy—who claim to oppose our works on grounds of scientific ‘evidence,’ ‘public good and truth,’ strongly resemble barristers in our courts of law—miscalled of justice. In their defense of robbers and murderers, forgers, and adulterers, deem it to be their duty to browbeat, confuse and bespatter all who bear witness against their clients, and will ignore, and if possible, suppress, all evidence which goes to incriminate them.”[3]
The sound of the doorbell brought Blavatsky’s acidic musings to close, and soon the Countess Wachtmeister, with her “lost-Lenore” expressions, announced the arrival of unexpected guests. “Madame,” said the countess, “Mr. and Mrs. Edmund Russell are here.”
“Durak,” said Blavatsky. “He did not make an appointment.”
Henrietta Crane & Edmund Russell.[4]
Russell, a youthful looking man (who much-resembled Lord Byron,) was Blavatsky’s intimate friend, and regarded by many as the “American Oscar Wilde.”[5] He and his wife, Henrietta Crane, were apostles of Delsartism, an Aesthetic movement founded by François Delsarte.[6] After completing a successful lecture tour in America, the Russells went to England to repeat the success. In London, Russell soon found himself lecturing in the studio of Felix Moscheles to audiences composed of the leading artistic voices of the city.
“I first met Blavatsky last year,” said Russell, “after being introduced through the kindness of the German court painter, Hermann Schlittgen.”
“I thought Mohini Chatterjee introduced you,” said Henrietta.
“It may have been Mohini,” said Russell, picking up a little brass seal. “What might this be?”
“Oh, it’s only a flapdoodle of Olcott’s.”[7]
“Would you permit me the pleasure of arranging all of your wonderful things more artistically?” asked Russell, placing the seal down on the communal table. He then produced a copper hammer from his pocket. “Your furnishings, and all these artistic objects, will benefit tenfold if you dispose of them differently, and clean the rubbish that crept in between them a bit.”
“How?” asked Blavatsky. “What do you want to do? I don’t want any cleaning! I value all these things, good and bad, and I do not want you to turn everything upside down for me!”
“Yes,” pleaded Russell, “trust me!” His eyes surveyed the rare curios in the room.
Behind her desk, on the bracket against the wall, was a little white marble elephant, an “emblem of power and wisdom.” On either side of her were tables, and racks filled with reference books. All over the room were souvenirs from her time in Indian—Palghat mats, Adoni carpets, Benares bronze, Moradabad platters, Kashmir plaques, and Sinhalese figurines. The walls, meanwhile, were covered with hundreds of photographs of Theosophists from around the world—a practice she began while still living at the Lamasery in New York.
“Away with your hammer, for mercy’s sake!” Blavatsky said, feigning a gasp. “Away with the hammer! Can you believe this, Verochka? This robber wants to break my furniture and all my things! Get out of here you aesthetic murderer!” Blavatsky turned to Verochka. “He’s a domovoy!“
Verochka giggled.
“What’s a domovoy?” asked the hammer-handed dandy.
“The domovoy is a ‘house-spirit,'” said Verochka. “He is like little old man, but no bigger than a five-year-old boy. He flies into a passionate fit if his surroundings are untidy, or not to his liking.”[8]
“Is he sent from heaven?” said Russell.
“Oh! You heartless Zoila!” said Blavatsky.[9]
Domovoy.
The domovoy was a relic from a pagan past. The dvoeverie (the double faith of Christianity and Paganism) of the Russian people was, like many things Russian, a byproduct of its layered geography and history. Russia, being a land and people which vacillated between the West and East, was a culture in a liminal land primed to reconcile the binaries of her neighbors yet feared with suspicion on all sides.[10] It is little wonder that Blavatsky should favor a syncretism of East and West, for, like her homeland, she was both and neither. Like her contemporary, Dostoevsky, said, “To become a true Russian, to become fully Russian […] means only to become the brother of all men, to become, if you will, a universal man…our destiny is universality…won not by the sword, but by the strength of brotherhood and our fraternal aspiration to reunite mankind.”[11]
Oscar Wilde & Edmund Russell.[12]
“It is a gross misinterpretation of Delsartism,” said Russell, “to represent it as teaching a special and arbitrary code of gestures and mannerisms, as artificial as they are absurd. The object is to acquire perfect mastery over self, and to make the body a facile interpreter of the thoughts and emotions—control at the center, freedom at the extremities.”
At the request of Vera Petrovna (who was writing articles about London for the Russian papers,) Russell produced a newspaper clipping which described his decorative exploits:
AN AMERICAN OSCAR.
The Pall Mall Gazette. February 4, 1886.
One hears but little of Mr. Wilde just now–Oscar, of course, not Jonathan. It may be that his work is done; it may be that he is hatching some new cult. Rumour sayeth not. He is probably happy, though married. He sometimes haunts the public places, but the ghost only of his former substantial self. We print here some sketches taken from an American paper of a young man now said to be the rage in the aesthetic circles of America, who is known by the sobriquet of “beautiful Edmund Russell.” The new apostle of aestheticism enters the lecture-room with a halo of golden waving locks about his head and with a little hammer in his hand. With the hammer he demolishes the vases and the other objects of false art that his teachings have caused his hearers to despise, until when he has finished chipping up the china his aesthetic legs are knee deep in the debris. A Philistine once brought a bronze vase for Mr. Russell to exercise his hammer on. With a gesture of supreme disdain he threw the bronze into the stove. Mr. Russell teaches what he calls the beautiful ” in dress, in home surroundings, in weddings–even in funerals. When he seats himself before his canvas, he is clad in a Grecian robe. He is evolving an artistic drapery for men like the clinging gowns he has made so popular with the gentler sex. Mr. Russell is going to Europe in the spring, and there will doubtless be a contest of the sunflowers between him and the Oscar Wilde. Mr. Russell will take his little hammer with him and use it as a battle-axe.
“I reverently separated the wheat from the chaff, with this very hammer in my hand.” A self-congratulatory smile brashly claimed Russell’s face. “Oh, ladies! It was delicious!“
“Was there any conflict between you and Mr. Wilde,” asked Vera Petrovna. “I met him when we visited Madame in Paris four years ago. I believe he was on his honeymoon.”[13]
“No, no,” said Russell. “One of the first events we attended was an ‘At Home’ the Wilde’s hosted in their home near Chelsea Embankment. We met Squire and Effie Bancroft there, and Wilson Barrett.”
The Bancrofts were known for creating a new form of drama called “drawing-room comedy.” Blavatsky, however, much preferred the plots of what the English called “cat’s-meat dramas,” that is, a show with seven murders to an Act.
“And Sir Richard and Lady Burton,” Henrietta added.
“An old friend, and old member of the Society,” said Blavatsky.[14]
“Sir Burton?” asked Russell.
“Yes.”
“He showed us his cheek through which a spearpoint went at one side, coming out the other,” said Henrietta.[15]
The doorbell rang again.
“Charlushka!” said Verochka, excitedly.
“Oh,” said Vera Petrovna. “So, he’s Charlushka, now?”
“Mamochka!”
Charley entered with his friends, Willie Yeats (whom Blavatsky already knew,) and Claude Falls Wright. A short, self-possessed man with glassy eyes, Claude had red luminescent hair which he wore long to his shoulders.[16] He was known for making a good first impression—and then shocking his new acquaintances with eccentricities (which many believed to be deliberate.) Some of these included eating no more than two meals a day, sleeping only a few hours a night, and working at his desk for eighteen hours at a time. He was the son of Alexander Falls Wright and Elizabeth Wright, who was the daughter of Lady Salkeld, May Ann Paine.[17] Having once been an enthusiastic member of the Young Men’s Christian Association at Christ Church, Leeson Park, Claude once considered a career in ministry.[18] He abandoned this idea after accepting the doctrines of reincarnation and karma. His next course of action was studying surgery at Dublin’s Royal College of Surgeons, but this idea, too, was abandoned.[19] After Charley introduced him to Theosophy, however, he now had designs on studying for the Civil Service and moving to India.
“Charley is the son of Johnston of Beelykeelbeeg,” said Blavatsky in her introduction.
Charley immediately gave the good news that he passed the final examination of the candidates selected in 1886 for the Indian Civil Service, thereby ending his two-year probation.[20]
“I obtained 1,883 marks and increased my position by eighteen places,” Charley told everyone. “In consequence of this, I am entitled to the fifth place among the candidates selected in 1886 for the Bengal Division of the Presidency of Fort William.”
Everyone congratulated Charley, but Verochka seemed less than enthusiastic.
“In addition,” said Charley, “I was awarded the Sanskrit prize of £40.”[21]
“Molodets!” said Vera Petrovna.
“I won’t be able to attend tonight’s meeting,” said Charley. “I will be going back to Dublin to celebrate with my family.”
After everyone was introduced, Blavatsky turned her attention to Charley’s compatriots.
“You have not taken off your beard, Mr. Yeats,” said Blavatsky with a nod of approval.
“Remember what I told you, dear.”
“I remember.”
She then turned to Claude.
“How are you? Have a cigarette. I knew you before,” she said, as she rolled Claude a cigarette. She then glanced at a chair (which moved a few inches towards Claude,) and handed him the cigarette.
Claude, stunned, sat down, and absentmindedly picked up the brass seal which Russell left on the table.
“Madame,” said Charley, “Claude has come to ask your advice about something.”
“It’s about going to India,” said Claude.
Blavatsky was sketching something on a piece of paper. “Do not go,” she said, revealing her drawing. It was a picture of the seal that was still in Claude’s hand. She then placed her hand over the drawing and, as if by magic, a replica of the seal appeared.
“But…how…?”
“Come to me, and I will teach you,” she said.
She then rubbed the drawing and the duplicate seal together, making them as one again. “But you must first form a Theosophical Branch in Dublin.”
“Yes,” said Claude. “Yes, I will.”[22]
Claude looked at Charley and Yeats. He then thanked Blavatsky and took his leave.
~
“Wonderful,” said Russell to Yeats.
“She is wonderful,” Yeats told Russell, “but when she is gone the fellow who opens the door will think he can take her place.”
“Now what’s all this about you beard?”
“Madame promised me a bad illness through the loss of all the mesmeric forces that collects in a beard.”
~
Verochka,” asked Charley, “are you alright?”
“Yes,” said Verochka unconvincingly. She seemed distant ever since he arrived.
~
Once everyone was settled in, talk soon turned to anecdotes and old stories.
After their mother’s untimely death from consumption in 1842, the eleven-year-old Blavatsky, and young Vera Petrovna, were sent to live with her grandparents, Prince Andrei Dolgorukov and Princess Helene Dolgorukova, in Saratov, Russia. The House Dolgorukov, to which the sisters belonged, was of the illustrious Rurikid Dynasty—the line of Kievan Rus who established the Russian Tsardom. Their great dacha was a vast and ancient castle nesting on arteries of abandoned subterranean galleries. Blavatsky was allowed to explore the catacomb under the protection of a dozen male servants and an arsenal of torches and lanterns. In her explorations of the estate, Blavatsky happened across the private occult-library of her great-grandfather, Prince Pavel Dolgorukov.[23]
“I had read them with the keenest interest before the age of fifteen,” said Blavatsky. “All the devilries of the Middle Ages have found refuge in my head and soon neither Paracelsus, Kunrath, nor Agrippa had nothing to teach me.”
As far back as she could remember Blavatsky possessed incredible magical endowments; she would uncontrollably manifest disembodied rappings—a morse-code of communication tapped-out on table-tops; she could ring phantom astral bells whose viscous chimes left a haunting residue in the ears and produce a psychic storm that erratically moved furniture. It was after recovering from a terrifying illness that she had found herself in full mastery of powers that seemed uncontrollable to a child.
“Our relatives owned a chateau where the children of the different families used to spend the summer,” said Vera Petrovna. “The central hall was a great museum of natural history. At night, when all were tucked in dormitory cots, we begged little Lelya to ‘make the animals talk.’ Bringing to life, she would speak as from their mouths—’I swam the frozen deep.‘ ‘I roved the jungles of Assam.’ ‘I—‘ The voice of our governess in the next room would interrupt her. ‘Mademoiselle Helene! If you do not stop exciting the children, I will come in and punish you!‘ For a time all would be quiet. Then the man-eating tiger would begin to prowl again, and our little heads cowered beneath the sheets in terror! She once dragged the great polar bear from the hall and propped him against the door, so when the governess opened it, he would fall over her!”
“Tell us more,” said Russell.
“With a view of adding specimens to the remarkable entomological collection of our grandmother, as much as for our own instruction and pleasure, diurnal as well as nocturnal expeditions were often arranged. We preferred the latter, as they were more exciting, and had a mysterious charm to us. We knew of no greater enjoyment. Our delightful travels in the neighboring woods would last from 9pm until, often 2 am. We prepared for them with an earnestness that the Crusaders may have experienced when setting out to dislodge the Turk from Palestine. The children of friends and acquaintances in town were invited—boys and girls from twelve to seventeen, and two or three dozen young serfs of both sexes, all armed with gauze nets and lanterns, as we wore ourselves, strengthened our ranks. (One of the neighborhood boys of Saratov, Dmitri Mendeleev, would later develop the periodic table of elements.)[24] In the rear followed a dozen strong grownup servants, Cossacks, and even a gendarme or two, armed with real weapons for our safety and protection. It was a merry procession as we set out on; with beating hearts bent with unconscious cruelty on the beautiful, large night-butterflies for which the forests of the Volga province are so famous. The foolish insects, flying in masse would soon cover the glasses of our lanterns, and ended their ephemeral lives on long pins and cork burial-grounds four inches square. But even in this my eccentric sister asserted her independence. She would protect and save from death all those dark butterflies known as sphinxes, whose dark fur-covered heads and bodies bore the distinct image of a white human skull. ‘Nature, having imprinted on each of them the portrait of the skull of some dead hero, these butterflies are sacred, and must not be killed,’ she said, speaking like some heathen fetish-worshipper. She got very angry when we would not listen to her but would go on chasing those ‘dead heads‘ as we called them; and maintained that by so doing we disturbed the rest of the defunct persons whose skulls were imprinted on the bodies of the weird insects.”[25]
Butterflies were universally accepted by the Slavs as a symbol of the soul. The Russian word for butterfly, babochka, was etymologically linked to the affectionate term for grandmother, babushka (it was said that the babochkas which flew by, were the souls of little grandmothers who had recently passed away.) Other Russian dialects were more explicit—naming the butterfly dushechka (a diminutive of dusha, the Russian word for the soul.) It was widely accepted that if the customary alms were not distributed during panikhidi, the soul of the deceased would reveal itself to their relatives in the form of a moth flying about the flame of a candle.[26]
“Our favorite game was Bandit and Captive-Maiden,” said Vera Petrovna.
“I always wanted to be one of the bandits,” added Blavatsky. “One day they said, ‘You must be Captive-Maiden sometimes.'”
“Bandits never had such hard work to capture a maiden,” said Vera Petrovna.
“I fought, I bit, I kicked, until they were glad to cast me for Bandit the rest of the year,” said Blavatsky, taking a drag from her cigarette. “As a child I loved to fight. You know the Russian hatred of the Jews. How often have I crossed the street to slap some boy in the face—’How dare you look at me, a Christian!‘ I was very proud of being a Christian in those days. I wish I could find that little boy and beg his pardon and tell him how short lived was my secular pride after I went out into the world.”
“I call up the memory of a boating adventure of bygone days,” said Charley, “when Willie and I set forth from the harbor of Howth to explore an islet where monks once lived. We drew up our boat incautiously among the seaweed mantled rocks. We were left high and dry, and spent all day and most of the night watching seagulls, and the creatures of the sea as darkness came on us.”[27]
Everyone was laughing, except Verochka, who only managed a slight smile. “Excuse me,” she said, leaving the room.
Charley looked at Yeats, who shrugged in ignorance. He then looked at Vera Petrovna and Blavatsky, who gently smiled at the foolish boy.
Yeats was about to speak when Russell interrupted him.
“Are you familiar with Delsartism, Mr. Yeats?”
“No—”
“Here, come with me, I want to show you something.”
Charley was left sitting alone with Henrietta and the Russian sisters.
“My dear,” said Blavatsky. “Why did you get stranded on the islet?”
Charley thought for a moment. “Because I was not mindful of the boat?”
The ladies laughed.
“No, no, my dear. You were not mindful of the ocean,” said Blavatsky. “Nothing in nature is so reminiscent of a woman as the ocean. Her whims and fantasies quickly appear—and disappear just as quickly—and no one can predict their hour.”
Charley looked at the ladies in semi-bewilderment.
“The ocean gets its color from the sky, and its waves depend on the air,” Blavatsky continued. “Its entire existence, with its constant flirtations, and reflection of the elements, depend on the latter. In spite of all this, and in a completely feminine way, the ocean boldly, and relentlessly, challenges you to battle. If you throw yourself at her too fast, she will treat you with contempt; if wade too far, she will ruthlessly destroy you.” Blavatsky took a drag from her cigarette while Charley absorbed. “If, on the contrary, you carefully and quietly caress her dangerous currents, she will dutifully, and affectionately, carry you on the crests of high waves.”[28]
“If a man’s deeds and character will be influenced by his language,” said Henrietta, “how much more by the form of expression he chooses in gesture, the language of love, whether it be good and graceful or a mere awkward inexpression. The more language is conventionalized, the less spontaneously it reacts upon the inner nature. This is the reason for the audacities of poetry, for its splendid escapes from the debased coin of current metaphors.”[29]
“Oh.”
“Verochka wanted to spend time with you,” said Vera Petrovna.
“Oh…“
~
“There is a principle in art which Delsarte called parallelism,” Russell told Yeats. “Things moving in the same direction, related in the same way, expressing the same thing or obedient to the same law, emphasize the general while subordinating the particular and bury their own individuality in their support of a larger whole. Most people merely follow the general principle of respectability by always doing just what others do, always à la mode, always ‘considered to be.’ They are servant girl, who thought it her duty to be always of the same religion as the family she was with. The fashionable dress is made for no one particular. Its origin is sometimes to conceal the deformity of its originator, or often simply an unmeaning charge gotten up by tradesmen to make people buy new goods. The artistic dress is one especially designed to suit the characteristic points of the individual, adapted to the uses of his particular daily life, of his personality at his best—beauty, health and comfort subordinated to expression. The greatest need of modern life is a true and practical knowledge of the principles of art in relation to our being, living and seeming.”
Blavatsky, Vera Petrovna, and Henrietta approached them as Charley walked to the other side of the room.
“Madame here is the best dressed woman in the world,” said Russell.
“But I don’t dress at all!”
“That’s just it,” said Russell, “the others try to.”
“Look at Charley over there talking French and smoking cigarettes with Verochka,” said Yeats. “He has ripened to perfection that air of clever insolence and elaborate efficiency—he looks like a veritable peacock!”
“Oh, that beautiful young man,” said Henrietta. “Don’t you dare try and prevent them from falling in love!”[30]
Charley, noticing Yeats gesturing in his direction, crossed with Verochka to join the others.
“Come on Willie,” said Charley, “I think it is time we get going.” He smiled at Verochka, who smiled back in kind. The boys then left.
The ladies looked at Verochka expectantly.
“We talked,” she said, still smiling.
~
Thursday was the day of the official weekly meeting of the Blavatsky Lodge. (Blavatsky also hosted two “At Homes” a week—one of which was usually on Saturdays.) This was not a dead-set rule, for in practice, nearly every night there was some visitor from around the world—sometimes just for meals. “No one ever saw such hospitality,” it was said. “Once-invited-always-invited.” A guest would arrive at any time, take any vacant seat without ceremony, and sometimes leave in the middle of a meal. It was a great equalizer. Poor students and artists dined with scientists and members of the nobility.[31] Though Blavatsky herself was not a vegetarian. the food that was offered was “cuisine végétarienne,” and few would have guessed it, “so rich and varied were the magical dishes.” Blavatsky’s hospitality was truly Eastern, and she placed “everything she possessed at the disposal of her friends.”
~
The first guests to arrive were the Svobodas. Alexander Svoboda was a tall, stout, open-faced man with a lion’s head, and his wife, Blanche Tricon was just as tall, but far more slender.[32] Svoboda, a renowned artist, painter and world-traveler belonged to a family entrenched in the arts. (George Bernard Shaw would, in later years, write the character of Eliza Doolittle for Svoboda’s niece for the play, Pygmalion.)[33] He was known in London for his paintings of India, Egypt and Asia Minor—but he was even more well-known in the world of science, largely for his contributions to the emergent field of archaeology. They brought with them photographs of the various ruins which Svoboda had captured while living in Bombay and Ceylon.
Another husband-and-wife-artist-team soon arrived, Michele Tedesco and Julia Hoffman. Tedesco’s work, “A Pythagorean School Invaded by the Sybarites,” was currently on display at the Italian Exhibition where it worthily occupied the center of a room. They, too, brought sample of their work.[34]
“One finds that many artists frequent Madame’s ‘At Homes,'” Russell told Verochka. “I have often seen Schlittgen, Moscheles, Browning, Whistler, and Tadema in these rooms.”[35]
“Do they always bring their work?”
“Well,” said Russell, “don’t let on that I told you, but lack of time and sore legs often prevents Madame from traveling to exhibitions and workshops–many artists bring their work to her home instead.”
The microscope revealed enormous crystals of uric acid in Blavatsky’s blood, and Dr. Mennell, Blavatsky’s able physician, believed that her even being alive was in itself a miracle. “Her system is so disorganized by a complication of diseases of the gravest character that it is a simple wonder that she can keep up the struggle.”
Verochka looked at her aunt with more sympathetic eyes, remembering their recent visit to the Nineteenth Century Art Society Exhibition, and what a strain it must have been.
“We saw aunt Lelya’s portrait with Father Smirnov the other day,” said Verochka.[36] “Do you know him?”
“I have dined with Father Smirnov on several occasions,” said Russell. “He speaks of Madame with great affection. ‘She is too generous,’ he says. ‘She gives more than she has.’ When he goes to her with the distress of the Russian people, Madame simply points to a drawer and says, ‘take what you need if it is there.’”
Schmiechen’s Portrait of Blavatsky.
Russell turned towards Blavatsky’s direction and, using his “theatre voice,” spoke in an exaggerated aside. “I like Schmiechen’s portrait. It suggests a prophetess in the dim cave!”
“It is just this that displeases me,” said Blavatsky while studying Svoboda’s photo album. “It makes me look too much like a Sybil.”
Svoboda “View of the triple-headed bust of Shiva. [37]
“It is not necessary to be either a specialist, an architect, or an eminent archeologist, in order to be convinced at the first glance that such temples as Elephanta are the work of Cyclopses,” said Blavatsky, “requiring centuries and not years for their construction.” She was looking over Svoboda’s photographs of the Caves of Elephanta—the first ever taken of the temple. “Whereas in Karli everything is built and carved after a perfect plan,” Blavatsky continued, “in Elephanta it seems as if thousands of different hands had wrought at different times, each following its own ideas and fashioning after its own device. A lack of uniformity is found in the pedestals of the columns, the finish and style of which is constantly varying. Why, then, should we not pay some attention to the explanations of the Brahmans? They say that this temple was begun by the sons of Pandu, after ‘the great war,’ Mahabharata, and that after their death every true believer was bidden to continue the work according to his own notions. Thus the temple was gradually built during three centuries. Everyone who wished to redeem his sins would bring his chisel and set to work. Many were the members of royal families, and even kings, who personally took part in these labors.”
Svoboda. “Interior view of the Main Shrine showing the Linga Shrine, Cave No. 1.”[38]
Everyone had now gathered around Blavatsky to hear her discourse.
“On the right hand side of the temple, see, right there, there is a cornerstone. Do you see?” said Blavatsky, pointing at Svoboda’s photo of the interior of the cave. “It’s a lingam of Shiva in his character of Fructifying Force. It is sheltered by a small square chapel with four doors. Round this chapel are many colossal human figures. According to the Brahmans, these are statues representing the royal sculptors themselves. Each of the larger figures leans upon a dwarf representative of the lower castes, which have been promoted by the popular fancy to the rank of ‘demons’ called pisachas. Moreover, the temple is full of unskilled work. The Brahmans hold that such a holy place could not be deserted if men of the preceding and present generations had not become unworthy of visiting it.”
“Eto interesno…” said Verochka softly.
Blavatsky paused. An idea came to mind.
“Verochka,” said Blavatsky, “you should translate From the Caves and Wilds of Hindostan.”
Verochka seemed at a loss for words. “I’m not sure I am qualified…”
“You must remember,” said Blavatsky, “that I never meant for it to be a scientific work. My letters to the Russkiy Vestnik were written in leisure moments–more for amusement than with any serious design. Of course, the facts and incidents are true–broadly speaking–but I have freely availed myself of an author’s privilege to group, color, and dramatize whenever it seemed necessary to achieve full artistic effect–it is a romance of travel.”[39]
“But, aunt Lelya, I have never even been to India.”
Blavatsky looked at her niece with interest. “You may yet one day.”
The bell of 17 Lansdowne announced new visitors. In walked Colonel William Gordon, a gray-haired man as “ruddy as a healthy child,” and his wife, Alice Gordon, both residents of India for many years. While Colonel Gordon was in the Staff Corps of the British army in Mannbhoom, Bengal, the husband and wife joined the Theosophical Society–and were among those who could claim witness to the Masters.
The Gordons barely had time to sit down and join the chorus of shared memories, when the bell announced new visitors. Blavatsky was initially annoyed, but the warm voice which resounded in the hall swiftly ironed her wrinkled brows, and even put a smile on her face.
“Who is that?” asked Verochka, her eyes drawn to the old white-haired man with sparkling blue eyes.
“Mr. Matthias Mull,” said Russell. “He’s a cheerful old man, and a lively storyteller.”
The Times of India Building, Bombay (Mumbai,) India.
When living in India, Mull purchased The Bombay Times, which he renamed The Times of India in 1861. Under his guidance, the paper earned a reputation as the “representative English journal of Western India.” He had two passions in life. 1. Supporting the Indian expatriate community in London. 2. The promulgation of English literature. After his retirement from Indian life, Mull devoted his time in England to the emendation and editing of Shakespeare’s works (Hamlet, Macbeth.)[40] In the capacity of joint-editor, he was even invited to aid in the production of the Lyceum Theatre’s Henry Irving edition (but indifferent health prevented his acceptance.) The fruits of his efforts were on full display during his free Sunday lectures in his home at 39 Colville Terrace. (It was through these lectures that Russell first met Mull.) Many Indian students who arrived in London to study medicine or law, found a sanctuary in Mull’s home, and regularly came to listen to his readings.[41] Having been old friends with the boys’ fathers, Mull knew many of them from birth. In time, 39 Colville Terrace, where Mull and his wife, Sarah Ann lived, became “the center of all young India,” and earned the nickname “Maison à l’Indienne.”[42]
“I’m leading a whole deputation of guests from afar!” Mull shouted; his eyes filled with mirth. “Here, I hand them over to your hands, H.P.B.”
Behind Mull, in the dim unlit dining room, stood several silhouettes topped with white turbans.
When entering, many of these young Indians were not content with a respectful bow. As a sign of special respect, they prostrated themselves on the threshold. This, as always, made Blavatsky extremely embarrassed.[43]
~
“Is it your custom to greet everyone in such a manner?” Vera Petrovna asked a nearby student
“Such an outward sign of reverence is to show our great gratitude to Madame and Colonel Olcott,” said the student. “Their treatment of the Indians produced a beneficial effect on social prejudices in India and forced even the most arrogant Englishmen to change their unbearably contemptuous treatment of the Indians. Fifteen years ago not a single Briton, driving into Bombay or Madras, would have dared to shake hands with a native, even if he was at least once a rajah and once a scholar. Now, since the Theosophists have mastered the public opinion of the educated classes of India, the majority are ashamed to openly show their arrogance, and for the first time we breathe freely, having the right to consider ourselves human.”
~
“Salaam, dear friends! Welcome…Come here!” Blavatsky said warmly. “Nice to meet you. Do I know you?”
“They constantly pester me, ‘when are you expecting Colonel Olcott?‘” said Mull. “Would you please tell them?”
“Colonel Olcott wired that he leaving Bombay on August 7th,” said Blavatsky.[44]
~
“Why do they call her ‘H.P.B.’?” Verochka quietly asked Russell.
“They address her as the ‘Old Lady’ at home, but for the public she prefers ‘H.P.B.’ I never can bring myself say it,” said Russell. “The meaninglessness of initials does not seem great enough for her—It would be like calling Queen Victoria ‘Vic.'”
“Suppose you have two acquaintances,” said Verochka, “Mr. Jonathan Thompson-Smith and Mr. James Thornton-Stuart—are both of them to be called J.T.S.”
“True!” Russell said. “Yes, for example, in America, where I first heard that Madame Blavatsky was called H.P.B., I didn’t know that her name was Helena Petrovna Blavatsky—I imagined something completely different.”
“What name did you imagine?”
“I was convinced that her admirers called her H.P.B. as shorthand for High-Para-Brahm!”
~
“These two gentlemen have come expressly to see you,” said Mull. “They met you in Darjeeling when they were little boys, and they burned with desire to see you again, and convey to you greetings from their fathers and relatives.”
“I am the son of Babu Kana Chaterjee Semaya,” said the first boy. “My sister’s once embroidered a fan for you—the one with the wings of emerald beetles and the feathers of a peacock.”
“Of course I remember,” said Blavatsky.
“My uncle brought sandalwood to you in Adyar for the bonfire of your future cremation,” said the second man, a nephew of Pandit N. Bhāshyāchārya.
She did not let on that she failed to recognize these young men, who were just children when she last saw them nearly a decade earlier.
~
The conversations, as to be expected, soon turned to metaphysical discussion.
“Who are they whom you call your ‘Masters’? Some say they are ‘Spirits,’ while others call them ‘myths.’”
Diya Banerjee, an Indian youth who had lived in London for a long time. He wore an English-style suit, and a white muslin turban, and rarely visited Blavatsky. The only reason why he was present that evening was to inquire about Olcott’s arrival (as he was expecting a package from his father.) He was one of the many Indian admirers of the “extreme atheist philosophers,” like Charles Bradlaugh, the founder of the National Secular Society, and friend of Annie Besant (see The Atheistic Platform.) Such atheists sufficed among the young generation of British India, but they were, in general, not allowed among Theosophists, who welcomed “all religions and all beliefs, except for unbelief and unconditional denial of the spiritual world and the immortality of the soul.” Bannerjee’s presence was tolerated among his peers for the sake of old relations—though his compatriots did not hesitate to impress upon him their unflattering opinion atheism.
“They are neither,” said Blavatsky. “I once heard an outsider say to another that they were a sort of ‘male mermaid,’ whatever such a creature may be. If you listen to what people say, you will never have a true conception of them. They are living men, born as we are born, and doomed to die like every other mortal.”[45]
“But it is rumored that some of them are a thousand years old,” said Banerjee. “Is this not true?”
“As true as the miraculous growth of hair on Shagpat in George Meredith’s story. Truly, like the ‘Identical,’ no Theosophical shaving has hitherto been able to crop it. The more we deny them, the more we try to set people right, the more absurd do the inventions become. I have heard of Methuselah being 969 years old—but, not being forced to believe in it, have laughed at the statement, for which I was forthwith regarded by many as a blasphemous heretic.”
“Seriously, though,” said Banerjee, “do they outlive the ordinary age of men?”
“What do you call the ordinary age? I remember reading in the Lancet of a Mexican who was almost 190 years old; but I have never heard of mortal man, layman, or Adept, who could live even half the years allotted to Methuselah. Some Adepts do exceed, by a good deal, what you would call the ordinary age; yet there is nothing miraculous in it, and very few of them care to live very long.”
“Madame,” asked Vittoria Cremers, in an only-slightly-diluted English accent, “what, exactly, does the word ‘Mahatma‘ mean?”
“Simply a ‘great soul,’ Mrs. Cremers,” said Blavatsky. “Great through moral elevation and intellectual attainment. If the title of great is given to a drunken soldier like Alexander, why should we not call those ‘Great’ who have achieved far greater conquests in Nature’s secrets, than Alexander ever did on the field of battle? It is a very old Indian term.”
The Indians nodded in acknowledgement.
“Why, then, do you call them ‘Masters’?” asked Banerjee.
“What’s that, dear?”
“I said, why do you call them ‘Masters’?”
Bert Keightley answered. “We call them ‘Masters’ because they are our teachers, and because from them we have derived all the Theosophical truths, however inadequately some of us may have expressed, and others understood, them. They are men of great learning, whom we term Initiates, and still greater holiness of life. They are not ascetics in the ordinary sense, though they certainly remain apart from the turmoil and strife of our Western world.”
“Don’t you ascribe to them supernatural powers?” pressed Banerjee.
“We believe in nothing supernatural,” said Blavatsky. “I have told you already. Had Edison lived and invented his phonograph two hundred years ago, he would most probably have been burnt along with it, and the whole attributed to the devil. The powers which they exercise are simply the development of potencies lying latent in every man and woman, and the existence of which even official science begins to recognize.”
“Is it true that many, if not all, of your Theosophical works were written under their dictation?”
“Some have. There are passages entirely dictated by them and verbatim, but in most cases, they only inspire the ideas and leave the literary form to the writers.”
“But this is, in fact, a miracle. How can they do it?”
“My dear, you are laboring under a great mistake, and it is science itself that will refute your arguments at no distant day. Why should it be a ‘miracle,’ as you call it? A miracle is supposed to mean some operation which is supernatural, whereas there is really nothing above or beyond Nature and Nature’s laws. Among the many forms of the ‘miracle’ which have come under modern scientific recognition, there is Hypnotism, and one phase of its power is known as ‘Suggestion,’ a form of thought transference, which has been successfully used in combating particular physical diseases.” Blavatsky began moving her foot in the manner in which, to those who knew her, indicated she was deep in thought.[46] “The time is not far distant,” Blavatsky continued, “when the World of Science will be forced to acknowledge that there exists as much interaction between one mind and another, no matter at what distance, as between one body and another in closest contact. When two minds are sympathetically related, and the instruments through which they function are tuned to respond magnetically and electrically to one another, there is nothing which will prevent the transmission of thoughts from one to the other, at will. Since the mind is not of a tangible nature, that distance can divide it from the subject of its contemplation, it follows that the only difference that can exist between two minds is a difference of state. So if this latter hindrance is overcome, where is the ‘miracle’ of thought transference, at whatever distance.
“Surely,” said Banerjee, “you will admit that Hypnotism does nothing so miraculous or wonderful as that?”
“It is a well-established fact that a Hypnotist can affect the brain of his subject so far as to produce an expression of his own thoughts, and even his words, through the organism of his subject. Although the phenomena attaching to this method of actual thought transference are as yet few in number, no one, I presume, will undertake to say how far their action may extend in the future, when the laws that govern their production are more scientifically established. And so, if such results can be produced by the knowledge of the mere rudiments of Hypnotism, what can prevent the Adept in Psychic and Spiritual powers from producing results which, with your present limited knowledge of their laws, you are inclined to call ‘miraculous’?”
“Then why do not our physicians experiment and try if they could not do as much?”
“Because they are not Adepts with a thorough understanding of the secrets and laws of psychic and spiritual realms. They are materialists, afraid to step outside the narrow groove of matter—they must fail at present until they are brought to acknowledge that such powers are attainable.”
“Could they be taught?”
“Not unless they were first of all prepared, by having the materialistic dross they have accumulated in their brains swept away to the very last atom.”
“Interesting,” said Banerjee. “Tell me, have the Adepts thus inspired or dictated to many of your Theosophists?”
“No, on the contrary, only to a very few. Such operations require special conditions. Unscrupulous Dugpas from the Black Lodge—”[47]
“Dugpa?” interrupted Vittoria. “Black Lodge?” Being new to occultism, these words were very strange to her.[48]
“Black Magicians,” said Blavatsky. “They are the lost souls of Kâma Loka. In the East they are known as the ‘Brothers of the Shadow.’ Cunning, low, vindictive, and seeking to retaliate their sufferings upon humanity, Dugpas are devoid of physical bodies, save in rare cases. They become, until final annihilation, vampires, ghouls, and other such prominent fiends. They are bad souls who have lived long in the other realm and work for no other end than evil until they are finally annihilated. Having no laws of the Spiritual kind to trammel their actions, a Dugpa will most unceremoniously obtain control over any mind, and subject it entirely to their evil powers. But our Masters will never do that. They have no right to obtain full mastery over anyone’s immortal Ego and can therefore only act on the physical and psychic nature of the subject, leaving the free will of the latter wholly undisturbed. Hence, unless a person has been brought into psychic relationship with the Masters and is assisted by virtue of his full faith in, and devotion to, his Teachers, the latter, whenever transmitting their thoughts to one with whom these conditions are not fulfilled, experience great difficulties in penetrating into the cloudy chaos of that person’s sphere. But this is no place to treat of a subject of this nature. Suffice it to say, that if the power exists, then there are Intelligences—embodied or disembodied—which guide this power and living conscious instruments through whom it is transmitted and by whom it is received. We have only to beware of black magic.”[49]
There were those present, besides Blavatsky, who experienced the phenomena of the Masters firsthand. In 1882, during an even that Theosophists regarded as ‘The Vega Incident,’ one of the Masters, Kut Humi, visited the Spiritualist William Eglinton on board the ship S. S. Vega. Following a conversation between Eglinton and Kut Humi, an exchange of letters between the S.S. Vega and a group of Theosophists at Calcutta occurred by phenomenal means. Skeptics were hard-pressed to pin fraud on Blavatsky, who was in India at the time.
“Colonel Olcott, Colonel Gordon, and myself—sat in the room which had been occupied by Mr. Eglinton,” said Alice Gordon. “We had a good light and sat with our chairs placed to form a triangle, of which the apex was to the north. In a few minutes Colonel Olcott saw outside the open window the two ‘Brothers’ and told us so. He saw them pass to another window, the glass doors of which were closed. He saw one of them point his hand towards the air over my head, and I felt something at the same moment fall straight down from above me and onto my shoulder—I saw it fall at my feet in the direction towards the two gentlemen. I knew it would be the letter, but for the moment I was so anxious to see the ‘Brothers’ that I did not pick up what had fallen. Colonel Gordon and Colonel Olcott both saw and heard the letter fall. Colonel Olcott turned his head from the window for a moment to see what the ‘Brother’ was pointing at, and so noticed the letter falling from a point about two feet from the ceiling. When he looked again the two ‘Brothers’ had vanished.”
Diya Banerjee was visibly skeptical.
“Mind you, there was no verandah outside,” said Alice. “The window was several feet from the ground. I turned and picked up what had fallen on me and found a letter in Mr. Eglinton’s handwriting. We opened the letter carefully, by slitting up one side, and we saw that someone had made on the flap in pencil three Latin crosses. The letter from Eglinton said substantially this, ‘After the many battles we have had at the breakfast-table regarding Kut Humi’s existence, I have been forced to a complete belief in their being living distinct persons. I am not allowed to tell you all I know, but Kut Humi appeared to me in person two days ago, and what he told me dumbfounded me.’“[50]
Diya with a subtle irony in his sing-song voice, casually spoke. “What convincing proof can be given for the existence of spirit after death?” He squinted his eyes like a cat and reclined his heavy body into the back of his chair with a grin.
“Why do you trouble yourself with western Secularism—a modern mushroom? You have secularism among yourselves. The Charvakas were Atheists, but they were not able to stand. You can find truth nowhere but in the teachings of the Aryan Rishis. I advise you to study the Upanishads day and night.”
The displeasure with Banerjee’s attitude was palpable among his countrymen, so, to save face, the atheist Indian courteously took his leave.
“Sadly,” said Colonel Gordon, “Mr. Banerjee displayed an all-too-common trait found among the colonized peoples who have strayed from their own beliefs, but—”
“Such a trait did not exist in the Hindus of former years,” said Mull, interrupting Colonel Gordon. “If they have now changed for the worse, as you say, it is not their fault. All the shame falls on us English—their teachers and reformers. In my time drunkenness was unheard of outside the big cities—which were already corrupted by the East India Company. And now, now I hear, there is not a village in all of India where a tavern could not be found.”
One of the first actions undertaken by Steuart Bayley, the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, when taking office in 1887, was the restructuring of distillery practices of outstill and sadr distilleries, and their taxation. As the papers that summer stated, the previous year saw a decrease in the revenue derived from the sale of country spirits in the Chittagong Division. [More on Bayley and Chittagong here.] Some believed that it was, to some degree at least, due to the visit of Colonel Olcott. Others speculated that the people took to “ganja and opium instead of in country liquor, for the excise revenue from these two sources has increased.”[51]
“Yes!” said the Svoboda. “They write to me that drunkenness, patronized by the government, is strongly spreading not only in India, but also in Ceylon, where before strong drinks were unheard of.”
“Perhaps the government encourages the distribution of gin and whisky, which you Englishmen cannot do without. Why don’t you see what happens when you elevate the natives in power to a high rank in the government on par with that of a British official. Perhaps they might solve the problem.” Blavatsky then burst out laughing. Then all the Indians burst out laughing too. “Who ever heard of a Hindu government person?” Blavatsky continued. “Would the government of Queen Victoria allow such a humiliation?”
“Oh, such Russian naivete,” said Colonel Gordon. “Do you not rule over an empire of foreign subjects? Are not their policies the same as ours? Do Buddhists and Mohammedans reach high ranks in the Russian military?”
“Why not, if they serve? There are many Tatars, Kalmyks and Nogais who are generals of the Russian military.”[52]
The Indians opened their eyes in astonishment, doubting their own ears.
“Our ‘barbaric’ country is far more generous than your ‘humane’ Great Britain,” Blavatsky retorted. “We have special military orders, and insignia even, for non-Christians in the military. We have an abyss of Mohammedans in our service, especially in the military!”
“Yes, there are a lot of Buddhists!” said Vera Petrovna. “The Nogais and Kalmyks are Buddhists after all.”
“And they can reach the generalship?” one of the Indians asked incredulously.
“Without a doubt,” said Blavatsky. “They can, and do, achieve promotion absolutely on a par with the Christians.” She deftly rolled another cigarette and continued. “Do not think that Russian subjects of other faiths are oppressed in Russia!” said Blavatsky, who, as always, took particular relish in displaying the advantages and freedoms of her abandoned homeland over other countries. “We have full religious tolerance, not just in words like the English! And, by the grace of God, the missionaries do not put a knife to anyone’s throat—as in your colonies.”
“But,” said one of the Indians, “such facts are rare, special exceptions, perhaps?”
“Not at all!” said Blavatsky. “We all know dozens of Mohammedan generals.”
“Probably only by rank?” said Colonel Gordon. “They are given the generalship as a distinction—as a special encouragement!
“In the Caucasus,” said Vera Petrovna. “many generals from the Tatars command separate units. During the last war with Turkey, my son, Rostya, served in a regiment commanded by a Mohammedan!”
“And your government is not afraid to give its regiments at the disposal of Mohammedans?” asked Colonel Gordon. “Do Christian soldiers and officers obey non-Christians?”
“Yes, even in the war with their co-religionists, the Turks!”
“This is extremely risky!” said Colonel Gordon. “Do you recall the name of this regiment and its Tatar commander?”
“Liuetenant-Colonel Firudin bey Vazirov,” said Vera Petrovna. “He was the commander of the 4th Squadron of 15th Dragoon Regiment, of the Caucasus Cavalry Division.”
~
Vittoria felt light-headed. She glanced nervously at Vera Petrovna. To her relief, Vera Petrovna, it seemed, either did not know her past, or did not let on that she knew her past. Born Vittoria Cassini to a British nobleman and Italian mother in 1860, the stern, square-faced, woman with short black hair and piercing hazel eyes, immigrated to America in 1875. Settling in New York, she would eventually establish, and edit, the theatre magazine, The Stage Gazette.[53] In November 1886, Vittoria married the dashing Baron Louis Cremers, a lieutenant in Russia’s aristocratic cavalry regiment, the 15th Hussars—a unit which, like the Rostya’s 15th Dragoon Regiment, belonged to the 15th Cavalry Division. The scandal surrounding this relationship, or rather, the ending of this relationship, was the catalyst that made her uproot her life in America, and work among the Theosophists.
Vittoria met Baron Cremers in the Fall of 1886, and proposed marriage within a few weeks of meeting. Baron Cremers, fascinated by Vittoria, took pity on her financial embarrassments (for she was practically deserted by her friends.) They were only a married a few weeks when Vittoria revealed to him that she “could not possibly love any man.” Baron Cremers “assured her that if she was a true and loyal wife,” he “would condone the past and trust [his] future in her hands.” He allowed her good income, and they lived for some time at The Belvedere, and other costly hotels on 48th Street. Cremers very quickly became “exceedingly friendly” with her shoemaker, James Jewell, “a Socialist, a Theosophist, and swelled up with all sorts of theories.” She frequently called on him and remained in his company for 7 hours a day on some days, as well as taking him to the theatres where they socialized with notable performers, like Sarah Bernhardt.
Jewell exercised a very potent, and “anything but beneficial influence on the conduct of the Baroness, to such an extent that she adopted in their entirety his fierce and bloodthirsty ‘Anarchistic’ and ‘Socialistic’ theories,” all of which were repugnant to Baron Cremers, which he objected to with a good deal of emphasis. Vittoria disobeyed his wishes, “declaring that Jewell was a man who might well be taken for a model of humanity—in fact, her ideal of the modern civilized man.” Through her new exposure to Theosophy, Vittoria was introduced to Mabel Collins’ Light on the Path, and was captivated by the book and the author—especially the author. It was at this time that Baron Cremers learned that prior to their marriage Vittoria “displayed extraordinary infatuation for actresses,” and “had the habit of going out in boy’s clothing to see the town.” Vittoria then disclosed other previously unknown biographical information. “She was a bastard,” and that “she had had many love affairs with women.” The only reason she married Baron Cremers, claimed Vittoria, was to win a bet regarding whether or not she could have sexual relations with a man.
Finding it impossible to induce Vittoria to give up the acquaintance of Jewell and seeking to put an end to the source of never-ending irritation, Baron Cremers consented to meet Jewell. He found the shoemaker “malodorous individual,” in a state of abject poverty. Nevertheless, Baron Cremers, hoping to mitigate “an evil [he] could not wholly get rid of,” assiduously cultivated Jewell’s acquaintance; this he did by giving him orders for shoes, and recommending his service to his friends. The doomed-to-failure marriage finally ended at the end of the first year. At the same time, Jewell was thrown in jail for abusing his own 13-year-old daughter. Jewell wrote a lengthy note to Vittoria from prison claiming that it was Baron Cremers who actually “betrayed his daughter.” Vittoria and Jewell, conspiring together, convinced the girl to prefer charges against Baron Cremers over her father. Though the girl retracted her accusation against Baron Cremers the following day, and admitted her father was to blame, the humiliation of such a dishonor was too much for Baron Cremers to accept (as evidenced in the scars he bore from the dueling arena.) On December 10th, 1887, Baron Cremers filed a libel suit against the papers which defamed him, and fully ventilated the story of his relationship with Vittoria.[54] In an effort to flee from spotlight, Vittoria joined the Theosophical Society on Christmas Eve, 1887, and fled to England in early 1888, where she lived 17 Lansdowne, and quietly worked on editing Lucifer.[55]
Cremers subtly shook her head, and the conversation came back into focus.
~
“Could you also name your non-Christian generals?” asked one of the Indian students.
The exclamations and questions of the Europeans and Indians rained down on the Russian ladies, who endeavored to answer to everyone’s satisfaction. Several Indians took out their notebooks and diligently wrote down the names of non-Christian colonels and generals who were in the Russian service.
“We will tell our people about it!” they repeated thoughtfully.
“They tell us that the Russians are ruthless tyrants,” one of the Indians whispered to Vera Petrovna, while the rest of the company carried on a noisy conversation about the same subject. “They say that the British dominion over us is a light feather compared to the iron-vice imposed by the Russian government on their subjects!”
“Tell me,” asked Bhaskaranand Saraswati, who only just arrived to study for the bar.[56] “How do Russian rulers respect alien religions, in general?”
“As far as I know the rulers and, in general, the educated people of Russia, respect every faith and every temple, be it a mosque or a synagogue.”
“Come now,” said another Englishman present. “The East End is filled to the brim with people subjected to Russian barbarity.”
“Fanaticism and prejudices cannot but exist among the masses,” Saraswati interrupted. “But are insults to the beliefs of people who do not belong to the dominant religion encouraged by the government in your country? Will, for example, some merchant firm in Russia be allowed to register a trademark of a religious symbol—say, the image of Mohammed?”
Blavatsky and Vera Petrovna rose with one voice. “Neither our thoughts, nor merchant councils, would ever approve such a mark.”
Saraswati turned sadly to Gordon, Mull, and the other English members. “How can you English gentlemen talk so readily about the barbarism and despotism of the Russians? So highly you exalt your liberalism and your humanity, all the while you encourage such insults to our beliefs, and our national feelings!” Saraswati took from his pocket a clipping from The Ceylon Times. “Look!” he said. “Go ahead and look.” He handed the clipping to Blavatsky.
Blavatsky studied the clipping, while all the guests present bent over her for a glimpse. “But what is it?” they asked. “What does it say”
“Would you like me to read to you the scandal?” asked Saraswati. Blavatsky handed the clipping back to Saraswati, who read the following:
The Ceylon Times
June 14, 1888.
Among the many devices adopted as a designation for Ceylon Tea, but few bid fair to become so widely known as that of the “Buddha Brand,” if the Buddhists really intend to maintain their alleged objection to the use of an image of Buddha with one hand uplifted as a Trademark! It appears that Mr. Rowland Boustead, of Wattegama, has entered into an arrangement with a firm at house (Messrs. Austen and Payne, of Banbury,) for the sale of his tea, and has adopted a figure of Buddha for his trademark, viz., the “Buddha Brand.” Mr. Boustead is now having a figure engraved by Messrs. Cave and Co., (of Colombo,) and that firm has just received a letter from one of the Buddhist High Priests, intimating that a knowledge of this had come to his ears, and begged in the name of his community to protest against the proceeding as being likely to bring Buddha and Buddhism into contempt. As the device has already been registered at home, of course, nothing can touch Mr. Boustead, and as the teas are to be sold in England, we do not quite see the force of the High Priest’s contention, as we should not be surprised if the Buddhists petition the Governor on the subject and make such a fuss over the matter as possible, which is likely to act as a splendid advertisement to the brand and the tea too.[57]’[58]
“The English tea merchants took it upon themselves to register a trademark of the image of a great reformer honored by 500 million people,” said Saraswati. His face was now distorted with such malice, that it positively frightened Vera Petrovna.
“British prestige would be bad there,” said Blavatsky. “Fortunately for Queen Victoria, there are not many Buddhists there. The Mohammedan population is more capable of rebelling than these poor people.”
“Out of cowardice?” asked Vera Petrovna.
“Partly,” said Blavatsky. “But no! Rather, it is because of a fanaticism which cannot be eradicated. Every Buddhist firmly believes that he is living in a fatal period—that the Latter Day of the Dharma has come—the ‘black age,’ during which trials and sorrows are destined for everyone, which the great Para Brahman himself is unable to avert. ‘We must reconcile ourselves and endure everything,‘ they say—and endure!”
Mull glanced to the Indians, and then toward the Russian sisters who were now speaking to each other in Russian. Mull, who seemed to understand the meaning of their conversation, suddenly leaned towards Blavatsky and Vera Petrovna. “Yes, exactly!” he said. “You’re right! We don’t have a place in London for such a young man. A stay in England will not reconcile him with us, rather it will turn him away even more. People like him and Dharma Chandra Bagaruswami of Chandernagore would be far better off staying at home than driving around European universities.”
“Oh yes!” said Blavatsky. “What is he doing, Dharma Chandra? I haven’t seen him in a long time. Do you know if he still sings? He has such a nice voice.”
“Rarely!” said Mull, shaking his head and pursing his lips into frown. “He rarely sings. Where did his former gaiety go! It is as though he is a completely different person. All the same, he will soon return to India where he will have more fun! Presently all he can think of is finishing his last meal at the Inns of Court and going back home.”[59]
The Gordons and Svobodas got up to leave. “I promise to bring “The Harem Dancer,” and “Le Puit Dans le Désert,” next time,” said Svoboda as he collected his photographs.
Mull turned to Verochka and Vera Petrovna. “I would be delighted if you ladies could join us for a small fête tomorrow evening. After all, you love original spectacles, and tomorrow I have a national Indian evening. You will not see such a gathering anywhere! All of these gentlemen will be wearing their national costumes. The gentlemen will sing, dance their dances, and play their musical instruments.”
“We would be delighted,” said Vera Petrovna.
Mull then extended the request to Blavatsky, who was seeing off her guests. “It would be a pleasure to myself, and to all of my guests, if you should pay us a visit tomorrow evening.”
“I would be very glad, but I cannot promise,” said Blavatsky, unsure of her health. “What is the nature of the occasion?”
“It is a farewell party for Mr. Russell and myself,” said Mull. “Many of the Indian students are returning home, and they have conspired to give us a farewell performance. They said that we could invite any outsiders we pleased. Mr. Russell also wanted to ask you. He will be reciting poetry. Dharma Chandra also promised to be there, and we will beg him to sing “Brother.” Do you remember how he sang it to us under the lianas in a palm forest? It was spectacular—a splendid time!”
“Very happy time, indeed,” said Blavatsky with a sigh.
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THE AGONISED WOMB OF CONSCIOUSNESS SECTIONS:
INTRO: CHARLEY.
I. WITCH TALES.
II. CARELESS WHENCE COMES YOUR GOLD.
III. THE TIMES ARE CHANGED.
IV. DENIZEN OF ETERNITY.
V. DOMOVOY.
VI. WITH LOW AND NEVER LIFTED HEAD.
VII. IMPERIAL GOTHIC.
VIII. THE SERVANT OF THE QUEEN.
IX. THE DWELLER ON THE THRESHOLD.
X. INDO-GOTHIC YOGA.
XI. INTENDED FROM ABOVE.
XII. THE SÉANCE ON CHEYNE ROW.
XIII. EVEN IN NEW ROOMS.
XIV. RUSSIA’S LEGENDARY LORE.
[APPENDICES]
SOURCES:
[1] Descriptions about 17 Lansdowne are from: [Stead, W.T. “A ‘Perpetual Peacock’ Story.” The Pall Mall Gazette. (London, England) October 8, 1889; “A Visit To Madame Blavatsky.” The Cincinnati Gazette. (Cincinnati, Ohio) October 13, 1889; Judge, William Quan. “Habitations Of H.P.B.” The Path. Vol. VII, No. 2. (May 1892): 36-39.]
[2] “The Presidency Of Princeton College.” The Ross-shire Journal (Ross and Cromarty, Scotland) August 3, 1888.
[3] Blavatsky, Helena Petrovna. “The Babel of Modern Thought.” Lucifer. Vol. VII, No. 41. (January 15, 1891): 353-360.
[4] Sanburn, Frederic (compiler.) A Delsartean Scrap-Book. John W. Lovell Company. New York, New York (1890): Cover.
[5] Descriptions of Russell are from: [Ariel. “Edmund Russell.” The Theatre Magazine. Vol. VI, No. 6 (December 7, 1889): 124; Figaro. “Figaro En Masque.” Figaro. Vol. III, No. 11 (May 14, 1891): 209-212; Lezinsky, David Lesser. “Delsarteism.” The Californian. Vol. III, No. 2 (January 1893): 279-285.] Russell’s reminiscences of Blavatsky and his involvement with the Theosophical Society are from: [Russell, Edmund. “Edmund Russell On The Art Of Dress.” The American Illustrated Magazine. Vol. XXIX, No. 6 (June 1890): 737-738; Russell, Edmund. “Mme. Blavatsky.” The St. Louis Post-Dispatch. (St. Louis, Missouri) May 13, 1891; Russell, Edmund. “As I Knew Her.” The Herald Of The Star. Vol. V, No. 5. (May 11, 1916): 197-205; Russell, Edmund. “More Recollections of Madame Blavatsky.” The Herald Of The Star. Vol. VI, No. 1. (January 1917): 17-21; Russell, Edmund. “The Secret Doctrine: Personal Recollections Of Madame Blavatsky.” The Occult Review. Vol. XXXI, No. 6. (June 1920): 332-340.]
[6] Theosophical Society General Membership Register, 1875-1942 at http://tsmembers.org/. See book 1, entry 4672. (website file: 1B: 1885-1890) Edmund Russell. (Joined 11/12/88). [Edmund Russell, 10 Chepstow Place, Pembridge Square, joined Blavatsky Lodge.]
[7] “Hunting Down The Mahatmas.” The Sun. (New York, New York,) November 25, 1894; Garrett, Fydell Edmund. Isis Very Much Unveiled. Westminster Gazette Office. London, England. (1894): 39-40.
[8] Stevens, Thomas. Through Russia On A Mustang. Cassell Publishing Company. New York, New York. (1891): 293.
[9] “Heartless Zoila” was an insult used by H.P. Blavatsky. [Johnston, Vera (trans.) “Letters Of H.P. Blavatsky Pt. XI.” The Path. Vol. X, No. 8 (November 1895): 235-240.]
[10] Riasanovsky, Nicholas Valentine. Russian Identities: A Historical Survey. Oxford University Press. Oxford, England. (2011): 28.
[11] Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. Speech delivered by Fyodor Dostoyevsky in honor of the Russian poet Alexander Pushkin on 20 June 1880 at the unveiling of the Pushkin Monument in Moscow. Published August 1st, 1880.
[12] “An American Oscar.” The Pall Mall Gazette. (London, England) February 4, 1886.
[13] Zhelihovsky, Vera Petrovna. “Letters From Abroad.” Novorossiysk Telegraph. No. 2789 (June 6, 1884); Page, Norman. An Oscar Wilde Chronology. Springer. New York, New York. (1991): 28.
[14] Theosophical Society General Membership Register, 1875-1942 at http://tsmembers.org/. See book 1, entry 153. (website file: 1A: 1875-1885) Capt. Richard F. Burton.
[15] “A Lady’s London Letter.” The Cheltenham Examiner. (Gloucestershire, England.) July 7, 1886.
[16] “Theosophist Conclave.” The New York Tribune. (New York, New York) April 19, 1896.
[17] [Alexander Falls Wright] Place: Westminster, London, England; Collection: St James; -; Date Range: 1847-1853; Film Number: 1042322; {Elizabeth Adams]The National Archives of the UK; Kew, Surrey, England; General Register Office: Registers of Births, Marriages and Deaths Surrendered to the Non-Parochial Registers Commissions of 1837 and 1857; Class Number: RG 5; Piece Number: 146; [Mary Ann Paine] Ancestry.com. England, Select Marriages, 1538–1973 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.Mary Ann Pain was married to William Salkeld Adams.
[18] “Notes By The Way.” The Social Review. (Dublin, Ireland) August 8, 1896.
[19] “Faces Of Friends: Claude Falls Wright.” The Path. Vol. VIII No. 11. (February 1894): 351-352.
[20] Mitchell, Henry Bedinger. “Charles Johnston.” The Theosophical Quarterly. Vol. XXIX, No. 3 (January 1932): 206-211.
[21] “The Indian Civil Service.” The Daily News. (London, England) August 22, 1888.
[22] “Theosophist Conclave.” The New York Tribune. (New York , New York) April 19, 1896.
[23] Goodrick-Clarke, Nicholas. Helena Blavatsky. North Atlantic Books. Berkeley, California. (2004): 1-23
[24] Hiebert, Ray Eldon; Hiebert, Roselyn. Atomic Pioneers: From ancient Greece to the 19th Century. U.S. Atomic Energy Commission. Division of Technical Information. Washington, D.C. (1975): 25.
[25] Neff, Mary K. Personal Memoirs of H.P. Blavatsky. Rider & Company. London, England. (1937): 27-28.
[26] Ralston, W. R.S. The Songs of the Russian People: As Illustrative of Slavonic Mythology and Russian Social Life. Ellis & Green. London, England. (1872): 117.
[27] Johnston, Charles.“The Poems Of W. B. Yeats.” The North American Review. Vol. CLXXXVII, No. 629 (April 1908): 614-618.
[28] Blavatsky, Helena Petrovna. “‘Voice’ From Beyond.” Tiflis Bulletin. (Tbilisi, Georgia) September 13, 1878.
[29] Hovey, Henrietta. Yawning. John W. Lovell Company. New York, New York. (1891): 171-172.
[30] Yeats, William Butler. Letters To Katharine Tynan. McMullen Books, Inc. New York, New York (1953): 119; Yeats, William Butler. The Collected Letters Of W.B. Yeats: Vol. I 1865-1895. Edited by John Kelly and Eric Domville. Clarendon Press. Oxford, England. (1986): 212.
[31] Racovita, Elena (von Dönniges.) Princess Helene Von Racowitza: An Autobiography. The Macmillan Company. New York, New York (1911): 352.
[32] Zhelikhovsky, Vera Petrovna. “At The London Theosophical Circle.” [Bakhmut Roerich Society.]
[33] Tanner, Beatrice Rose Stella. (Mrs. Patrick Campbell.) My Life And Some Letters. Dodd, Mead And Company. New York, New York. (1922): 7, 342; [Marianne Blanche Tricon Svoboda] Archives Départementales De La Somme; Amiens, France; Etat Civil 1793-1912.
[34] Lowe, Charles. Four National Exhibitions In London. T. Fisher Unwin. London, England. (1892): 163. [Theosophical Society General Membership Register, 1875-1942 at http://tsmembers.org/. See book 1, entry 3459. (website file: 1B:1885-1890) Michele Tedesco. (9/30/1885); Theosophical Society General Membership Register, 1875-1942 at http://tsmembers.org/. See book 1, entry 3460. (website file: 1B:1885-1890) Julia Hoffman Tedesco. (9/30/1885.)]
[35] “Edmund Russell Abroad.” The Tribune. (Holton, Kansas.) November 22, 1890.
[36] Johnston, Vera Vladimirovna. “From the Letters of Vera Vladimirovna Johnston.” [October 25, 1891 entry.]
[37] “View of the triple-headed bust of Shiva (also known as the Mahesvara, the Mahesa-murti and the Sadashiva), Main Shrine, Cave No. 1 (also known as the Mahadeva Temple, the Shiva Cave and the Great Cave), Elephanta Caves, Elephanta Island, India.” (c/o Canadian Centre for Architecture.)
[38] “Interior view of the Main Shrine showing the Linga Shrine, Cave No. 1 (also known as the Mahadeva Temple, the Shiva Cave and the Great Cave), Elephanta Caves, Elephanta Island, India.” (c/o Canadian Centre for Architecture.)
[39] Blavatsky, Helena Petrovna; Johnston, Vera (tr.) From The Caves And Jungles Of Hindostan. Theosophical Publishing society. London England (1892): iii, 72-73.
[40] “Reviews: Emendations Of Hamlet.” Lucifer. Vol. III, No. 12 (August 15, 1888): 487-490; Mull, M. “The Emendations Of Hamlet.” Lucifer. Vol. III, No. 13 (September 15, 1888): 73-74; “Reviews: Emendations Of Paradise Lost.” Lucifer. Vol. III, No. 14 (October 15, 1888): 152-156.
[41] “The Death Of Mr. Matthias Mull.” The Hendon & Finchley Times. (London, England) October 6, 1893; “Sixty Years Of The ‘Times Of India.'” The Calcutta Review. Vol. CVIII, No. 215 (January 1899): 86-104.
[42] [Mull’s House.] The National Archives of the UK (TNA); Kew, Surrey, England; Census Returns of England and Wales, 1891; Class: RG12; Piece: 25; Folio: 154; Page: 16; GSU roll: 6095135.; [Sarah Ann Mull] Ancestry.com. India, Select Births and Baptisms, 1786-1947 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.
[43] The description and dialogue of Mull’s visit can be found in: Zhelikhovsky, Vera Petrovna. “Two Evenings With London Hindus: Pt. I.” Novosti I Birzhevaya Gazeta. No. 231 (August 23, 1889); Zhelikhovsky, Vera Petrovna. “Two Evenings With London Hindus: Pt. II.” Novosti I Birzhevaya. No. 237 (August 29, 1889); Zhelikhovsky, Vera Petrovna. “Two Evenings With London Hindus: Pt. III.” Novosti I Birzhevaya. No. 247 (September 3, 1889.)
[44] “Occasional Notes.” The Englishman’s Overland Mail. (London, England.) August 25, 1888; “The President’s Tour.” Supplement To The Theosophist. Vol. X, No. 1 (October 1888): xvii-xviii.
[45] Vera Petrovna does not record what exactly Blavatsky said re: atheism, but does state that it was antagonistic. The dialogue used in this comes from a conversation along similar lines which she had with Rangampalli Jagannathiah. [Jagannathiah, Rangampalli. “The Great Teacher H.P.B. As I Saw Her.” The Adyar Bulletin. (May 1909.)] Jagannathiah, Rangampalli. “The Great Teacher H.P.B. As I Saw Her.” The Adyar Bulletin. (May 1909.)
[46] Cooper, Laura M. “How She Left Us.” Lucifer. Vol. VIII, No. 46. (June 15, 1891): 267- 271.
[47] Blavatsky, Helena Petrovna. The Key to Theosophy. The Theosophical Publishing Company. New York, New York. (1896): 244-249.
[48] Spiro, Dimolianis. Jack the Ripper and Black Magic, Victorian Conspiracy Theories, Secret Societies and the Supernatural Mystique of the Whitechapel Murders. McFarland & Company, Inc. Publishers. Jefferson, North Carolina. (2011): 98-113.
[49] Blavatsky, Helena Petrovna. Isis Unveiled: Vol. I. J.W. Bouton. New York, New York. (1877): 319.
[50] Caldwell, Daniel. The Esoteric World of Madame Blavatsky. Quest Books. Wheaton, Illinois. (2000): 174-178.
[51] Buckland, C.E. Bengal Under The Lieutenant-Governors Vol. II. S.K. Lahiri & Co. Calcutta, India. (1901): 857-862; Johnston, Charles. “Kandi Subdivision: Helping To Govern India.” The Atlantic Monthly. Vol. 109, No. 2 (February 1912): 265-273
[52] See: [Jinarajadasa, C. H.P.B. Speaks: Vol. II. Theosophical Publishing House. Adyar, India:, (1986): 62.]
[53] Ryan, Hugh. When Brooklyn Was Queer. St. Martin’s Publishing Group. New York, New York. (2019): 65-66.
[54] “A Russian Nobleman’s Trouble.” The Memphis Avalanche. (Memphis, Tennessee) February 2, 1888; Casal, Mary. Stone Wall: An Autobiography. Eyncourt Press. Chicago, Illinois. (1930): 178-180; Crowley, Aleister. [Edited by Kenneth Grant & John Symonds.] The Confessions of Aleister Crowley. Arkana/Penguin. London, England. (1988): 690-692; Harris, Melvin. The True Face Of Jack The Ripper. Michael O’Mara Books Limited. London, England. (1994): 46-47; Ryan, Hugh. When Brooklyn Was Queer. St. Martin’s Publishing Group. New York, New York. (2019): 65-66.
[55] Theosophical Society General Membership Register, 1875-1942 at http://tsmembers.org/. See book 1, entry 4297. (website file: 1B:1885-1890) Vittoria Cremers. (12/24/1887.)
[56] “Personal Intelligence.” The Indian Magazine. No. 218. (January 1889): 56.
[57] Buckley, Edmund. “On The Need Of Systematic Study Of Religion.” The Biblical World. Vol. III, No. 1 (January 1894): 119-127.
[58] Boustead ultimately abandoned the “Buddha Brand” marketing which involved an image of Buddha. This was done at the request of the Buddhist Defence Committee of Ceylon, and organization established by Olcott in 1884. [Buckley, Edmund. “On The Need Of Systematic Study Of Religion.” The Biblical World. Vol. III, No. 1 (January 1894): 119-127; Olcott, Henry Steel. “Old Diary Leaves: Second Oriental Series, Chapter XXV.” The Theosophist. Vol. XX, No. 8. (May 1899): 449-460.]
[59] The Compendium of English and Scotch Law states: Barristers-at-law must have been entered as members of one of the four Inns of Court, viz., the Inner Temple, the Middle Temple, Lincoln’s Inn, Gray’s Inn. The student must keep his terms, i.e., eat a certain number of dinners in the hall of his inn at certain times and seasons during twelve terms, there being four terms in each year, and he must attend certain lectures on legal subjects, or produce some evidence of professional studies, and it is now also compulsory upon him before admission to undergo an examination as to general learning, unless he is a graduate of a British university. When the twelve terms have been duly kept, a petition is presented to the benchers, who have the exclusive management of the inn, for leave to be called to the bar, and on payment of the fees and stamp duties, etc., the student is admitted and takes the oaths of the office. [Paterson, James. A Compendium of English and Scotch Law. Adam And Charles Black. Edinburgh, Scotland. (1865): 425]; Gandhi, M.K. The Story Of My Experiments With Truth. Navajivan Press. Ahmedabad, India. (1927): 169.
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