Danse
Macabre
When I returned to Puerto Rico, after a fourteen year absence,
it was to take over a manufacturing plant for a client. I rented a home, set among ten acres, on the
outskirts of Arecibo. I estimated my
work would take six months and in three months the NY school summer vacation
period would permit Edythe and the two younger sons to join me. I had my Jaguar
Mark IX shipped prior to my arrival. It
was the only one on the island and that led me into an unexpected adventure. One weekend, a few weeks after my
arrival, I drove to Salinas where Paper
Mate and Frawley Manufacturing once had their plants. They were now occupied by
garment manufacturers. I motored
west through Santa Isabel to Club Deportivo in Ponce. Years ago I had been one of its members. I was greeted by the manager, Miguel, who
remembered me and let me enter the restricted premises to lunch.
I was eating langusta at a table
overlooking the water. At a nearby
table three of the local gentry were eating and discussing a coming Paso Fino
horse competition. A fourth man joined them.
Through the glass-enclosed dining room windows. I had seen his arrival
in a Mercedes 300 sedan, park next to my Jaguar. When the waiter came to him I could not hear the whispered
conversation but the waiter answered and glanced in my direction. I was finishing my meal and ordered a glass
of cognac when he rose and approached
me. He introduced himself as Jesus
Torres and asked if the Jaguar was mine, and if I was a new member. I told him it was my car and that years ago
when I lived in Ponce I had been a member.
I answered his questions about my Jaguar and told him that years ago I
operated the Paper Mate plant in
Salinas. He looked impressed and asked
me to join his table. Paper Mate had been a legend in the early days of
Operation Bootstrap and after answering their curiosity of its sale and removal
from the island, I said I overheard their talk about Paso Fino horses but I
never saw them.
All four were eager to tell me about
the horses. Centuries of breeding in
Puerto Rico produced the Paso Fino, a horse of medium height with the lines of
a classical Arabian horse. It had a
unique gait, the smoothest in the world.
It could walk with three of its feet on the ground at the same
time. In competition, a glass of water
filled to the brim was placed on the saddle and the horse was to walk around a
track in the exhibition grounds without spilling a drop. I was invited to see the competition the
following week Jesus Torres was a
mortician and owner of a funeral parlor and home in Barceloneta, a town near
Arecibo.
After lunch we walked out to our
cars.. He warily asked me what I
thought of the occult. I was amused and
I told him that I had been involved with it all my life. He invited me to dine with him, and some of
his friends, at a small restaurant in his town.the Friday evening before the
Paso Fino exhibition.. I accepted but never expected it would develop into a
unique adventure.
Danse
Macabre
Friday evening I entered the
restaurant and saw Jesus. He was at a
table in the corner of the room. He introduced as Antonio, a handsome, arrogant
looking, young man.. He was heir to one
of the wealthiest families in Puerto Rico, and a breeder of Paso Fino horses.
Two couples approached our table and joined us. Antonio made the introductions.
I recognized their family names as owners of vast sugar cane fields and
rum producing facilities.. A thin, balding man soon joined our crowded table. He was the owner of fishing fleets operating in the Caribbean Sea
and Atlantic Ocean. Despite the
disparity of wealth between Jesus, the mortician, and the others, they were
involved with some common interests. I
noticed that the waiter remained farthest from us and only approached when
beckoned. When he served us food or
drinks, he did so with rapidity and retreated to his station at the far side of
the room. The abundant wine consumed
while eating made them garrulous. They intermittently questioned me about my
belief in mystical rituals..
Except for Jesus, the
mortician, they were wealthy idlers,
buying or taking what they wanted. Bored with their lives. they sought
excitement and became involved with mysticism and the occult. For Jesus to be accepted by them, I surmised
he could offer them an opportunity for them to participate in a coverrt and
unusual form of Black Magic.
Permeated with a feeling of
mischief, I felt I could amuse myself
and fascinate them with talks of supertitions and occultism. My Hungarian background with a superstitious
mother had fostered an early interest in the occult. Having been a member of the Society of American Magicians and the
American Society for Psychical Research, I had some experience in exposing
charlatans and listening to believers in superstitions and psychic phenomena. I
concealed my amusement as I impressed them as an authority. I discussed many
subjects and aspects of black magic and occultism that were unknown to
them. They were enthralled. I told them of the Adepts, who achieved the
highest step in Eastern esoteric science.
They were members of the Mahatmas, the Great Brotherhood, that had
influence over mankind. They could use
psychic power to exert forces of great magnitude in this and the spiritual
world. I lectured on the Yoga and their
achieving psychic powers. I told them of man’s yearning to use the supernatural
forces and knowledge for their advantage, for evil as well as good. It was often practiced by invoking diabolical
control over the infernal powers, and compeled those powers to serve the
invokers. I outlined the three
categories of rituals, Divination, Bewitchment and Necromancy. They plied me with questions and badgered me
for more information.
They were hungry and thirsty for
whatever knowledge I could give them. I
was interested to discover why this apparently well-educated and financially
established group of islanders were interested in the subject. I wanted to know what type of magic these
elite Puerto Ricans had taken an interest in.
This was to be my first excursion into an area of study that I had never
anticipated existed on this island. It
was with difficulty that I bid them good-bye and left.
.
Danse
Macabre
The following day’s Paso Fino
exhibition was interesting. I was in a
section of seats reserved for Antonio and twenty of his friends. All of them seemed to have an interest in
me, and I felt they heard of last night’s conversations. After the show, and after seeing Antonio’s
two Paso Fino horses, he invited the group to his home for a repast. I followed Antonio’s Maseratti and Jesus’
Mercedes with the others trailing behind to a low sprawling house, a guest
house next to his stables and exercise track for his horses. Six tables were set with food and
drink. Antonio motioned me to the table
where he sat with Jesus and the people I had dined with the previous
night. Aside from congenial
conversation, nothing was said of the occult. Before leaving, Jesus asked if I
would be interested in seeing a secret occult rite two weeks hence. I did not
give him a definite answer but Jesus said he would contact me in a few days.
He phoned and I accepted the
invitation. Jesus told me it would
begin at ten in the evening at his funeral parlor at Barceloneta. I realized that they were involved with necromancy
and my knowledge of the various rites was only from reading.. Despite a surge
of contempt for their involvement, I did want to witness the proceedings, and
perhaps amuse myself by bewildering them.
I phoned my home in New York that evening and asked Edythe to take
certain items from the shelves in the basement where I stored my magic
paraphernalia, and send them by air express to my attention at the
factory.. I also called Al Flosso in
his magic shop and discussed with him my needs for a witch hand, flash paper
and some related items. He said he would ship them to me the following
day. Until I received the items from
home, and from Al Flosso, I mentally developed the patter I would use and how I
would do my magic. .
I remained in my office after all
the employees left and practiced with some of the magic paraphernalia. I loaded volatile fluid in the special cup
and foo can. I checked the withered
‘witch’ hand and the batteries that operated the electromagnet hidden inside
the control board. I loaded magic items
on my person. I took some rum in lieu
of the special odorless volatile liquid and practiced the fire spitting in the
safety of the shower in the bathroom.
Maxmilian Londono had shown me some of the methods he had used in
demonstrations of black magic to gullible victims in Spanish Harlem and later
in South America. He had vividly
described his procedures and the various occult rituals he created for eager
participants. I sat in the leather
office chair, darnk some more rum and imagined, or fantasized, on what would
happen.
Dawn came and the rattling of trucks
going to the cane fields woke me. I was
still in the chair and my head was torrmented by a surealistic dream of a
strange ritual. It was so vivid that I
was shaken by its apparent reality. I
reconstructed the dream..
-------------------------------------
I drove to a small cafe to eat before going
to the meeting. When I arrived there
were twelve men and four women assembled in the waiting room of the
mortuary. They all wore black clothes.
I had seen or met all of them except a quiet, wide eyed, olive skinned girl
whose well groomed hands were pressed against her breasts. Questioning me began
anew, except from the wide eyed girl.
They were in a state of anticipation and excitement, anxious to proceed
but sought reassurance that my
observations or participation would be a secret. They were very cautious with a stranger, a possible observer and
participant in their secret rituals. I
told them
Danse Macabre
that if they had doubts I
would leave, and I headed for the door.
I knew that Jesus would stop me from leaving. He stood in front of the door and apologized for their doubts
since the occult ritual they were to start was secret and no one was to know
that dominant families of the island were involved. I nodded and swore that what I would see would be a deep, dark
secret and I followed Jesus and the others into the mortuary.
Glancing about I noted the preparations that had been
made. There were four caskets set into a square. On the four corners of each
casket a candle was burning. In the center of the room was a tethered white
cock. Jesus motioned me to wait while
they disappeared into a waiting room and shortly reappeared wearing black
robes. Antonio offered me one but I
shook my head and declined it. I
definitely could not perform with it on me.
I had dressed all in black, my turtle neck shirt was black silk, and the
loose fitting jacket I used for magic shows was black. A gold chain was on my neck and I rotated it
until the gold eight armed Siva glittered on my chest.
They were infested with the fascination of Black Magic.
They were all islanders whose families had been here for generations and who
flourished and had risen to wealth and power. Racial strains were evident with
most of them. Some with straight black
hair and high cheek bones denoted their Indian ancestry - the conquered island
dwellers who had looked upon the Spaniard as a God, and to this day pay
obeisance and homage by perpetuating their version of Castilian tradition and
language -.a slim girl with ecru skin had flaring Negroid nostrils and black
hair whose kinks had been straightened, Antonio, with his arroganceand thin
aquiline nose looked like a Spanish Conquistador, Jesus, whose ancestors came
from Calabria, looked like a typical Italian.
They were a conglomerate of islanders interested in the same form of
occult rituals. They were anxious to
proceed, infested with a virus of awe of the unknown, and I was ready to
astound and exploit their beliefs.
They were astounded when I leaped atop a coffin and
shouted, “You are dabblers and novices in witchcraft. I know. I am the son of a witch and a warlock.´ They looked at
one another, not sure if I was serious. “Antonio.” I shouted with authority,
“hand me that cup made from a baby’s skull up by the white cock. Spill out the chicken feed and fill the
skull with water. Hand it to me. I will show you real Black Magic”.
They watched as Antonio obeyed. He spilled the seed on the floor and went to a sink and filled
the small skull cup with water. Their
eyes followed him as he slowly walked and handed the skull cup to me. Holding
it in one hand I reached with the other hand into my coat pocket and withdrew a
battered black tin cup, turning it upside down and toward them I showed it was
empty. Pouring water from the skull, I filled the cup to the brim and poured
the rest of the water in the skull on the floor, saying in a low voice, “Rulers
of the Darkness, I summon you forth to do my bidding I hold a child’s skull cup as an offering.” I extended my hand holding the skull
cup. All eyes were focused on it, and
gasps erupted as the skull vanished, with the aid of the Miller Holdout. An olive skinned girl, who I had learned was
to be the novitiate,. gave a low scream that added to the tenseness and
mystery. “You Fools! You amateurs!”, I shouted, “Look
Danse Macabre
at the candles you set on
the four corners of the casket. They are not adequate for invocations. They are not made from the fat of human or
animal sacrifices.” I had chanced they
were not, and won. “You can’t call
forth the demons unless you follow the Laws of Darkness.”
A magician is a performer not unlike an actor, shaman,
medicine man. guru, orator. or religious leader, and a good performer knows when he has complete control over an
audience. I let my eyes scan each of
them as I spoke, “You can not evoke demons unless you follow the ancient Laws
of Darkness. I will try to help
you. With my Black Magic I will sanctify
the candles so they can be used in tonight’s ritual. God of Darkness,” their
eyes were glued on me, following my every move - and misdirection - as I
continued, “Great God of Darkness with whom my ancestors dwell, change this
water into the Flames of Hell.” I
raised my arm with the black cup, in salutation and then lowered it slowly,
slowly rotating it to ‘position’ .
There eyes followed, some with open mouths gasped as I ‘drank’ the
contents - the concealed volatile liquid - and turned the cup over to show it
was empty. High I held the cup, a
version of a magician’s foo can, containing the concealed and trapped
water. I turned to a lit candle and
spat on it. A stream of fire leaped
from the candle flame to my lips. A low scream accompanied gasps and
moans. They were repeated in unison, as
each time I faced a lit candle, I shot flame from my mouth to the burning
taper. Then I turned, and with the last
of the volatile liquid in my mouth, I sent a tongue of flame over the heads of
the cultists.
They were terrified, some fell to their knees, they
thought they were in the presence of a Satanic figure. They were enthralled and
captivated with the mysticism and magic of the American industrialist, a Devil
of sorts - in disguise. This was more
than they had expected. I felt my
performance so far had exceeded my expectations. This was the moment to continue, but not overdo my finale.
Holding the black cup which had previously been filled
with liquid, I chanted, “Dear mother of mine, from the depths of my heart I
call you. Come from the depths of
Darkness and take this chalice as a token of my devotion”. I extended the cup in front of their eyes
and it vanished, with the aid of the Miller Holdout. They gasped and two women screamed, and I knew they were now in
my power and if I had ulterior motives, my obedient subjects and slaves.. A few
years earlier, Maximillian Londono, a friend and illusionist, had explained
many of his tactics and devices that he used to ensnare victims and exploit
their gullibility in Black Magic.
They knew little about witchcraft or devil worship. What they knew came from commonly available
sources that catered to cults as theirs. They were in deadly earnest in their
beliefs and it had become a religion with them. For me it was an adventure and first time experience. I was certain that I could convince them to
accept me as their leader, and wrest control from Antonio and Jesus, or who
ever had any influence over them. It
was too fantastic. and impractical. for me to become completely involved. I would amuse myself as I manipulated their
emotions, then terminate - in a gentle and final manner - any future contact
with the fanatical cultists.
Danse Macabre
“Jesus,” my voice rang with authoritative resonance, and
he jumped in front of me and eager to obey my command, “”Go to my briefcase. Open it.” They watched as he did my bidding.. “Under
some of my clothes and papers, you will find an old piece of wood.“ He searched and then held up piece of
wood. “Bring it to me.” He did and I took it from him.
“Now go back to your place among the others - and
watch.” I held the wood in front of me,
an old appearing panel of wood about a foot square and one inch thick. “This wood is from the casket of my
grandmother. She was accused of Black
Magic and being a sorcerer. They
chopped off her evil left hand, then they burned her at the stake.” As I spoke I drew a withered hand from my
jacket pocket. A muffled scream and
many gasps as they viewed the hand, a clever magic device from Al Flosso.
“I will ask the hand to answer all questions.”. I placed
the hand on the board and extending my arms, I held the board with the
‘witches’ hand at arms length toward my questing cultists. “Hand from the dead resting on the wood from
the casket that once contained the burned body of my grandmother - gather
strength and reach out to contact her in the netherworld of Darkness. Motion to me if you have succeeded.´ They stared at the hand upon the board and
I waited until they fidgeted with discomfort, then I reinforced their occult
convictions. The witch’s hand - under
my control - with agonizing slowness began to move, slowly it began to rock
back and forth on the immobile wood.
They became graven, unbreathing statues as they watched.. “Hand of the dead, now that you are in
contact, act as an extension from the World of Darkness, answer my questions. If the answer is yes, answer with two raps,
and if the answer is no answer with one rap.”
Holding the board steady with one hand, I placed the
other hand on my brow and commanded the witch’s hand, “Do you understand
me?” The hand rocked twice, rapping
the board with startling audibility.
They were transfixed, ripe and ready to obey whatever commands I would
deem proper. My ego soared with the
mastery I had over them. With some reluctance and frustration I had to abort
the temptation to continue and exploit this power. “Is this the best night for Black Magic?” The hand rapped once, followed by a frantic
series of raps. My cultists, my worshippers, were waiting for
an answer. “The hand from the dead
wants me to give you a message. Tonight
is not the best night for rituals.
Tomorrow night is the proper night, the Witches Sabbath, the best night
for Black Magic. Why this night?” There
was silence. I scowled and stared at
them and they shrunk from my gaze. My
eyes finally focused on Jesus. His
entire body jerked as I asked, “Jesus, why tonight. Why?”
With difficulty and tremors he said in a low voice, “We
can’t change the night. Our rituals include dead bodies. The bodies we are to use as part of our
ceremony and ritual of initiation are
scheduled for burial tomorrow.”
Danse Macabre
“Hand from the grave, do you hear that?” Two raps answered. “Should this cult proceed with their plans
tonight?” Slowly, very slowly, the hand
rapped once, their eyes followed the hands slow rise - then with agonizing
slowness it rocked a few times before descending for the second rap. Sighs of relief came from the cultists at
this hand’s approval. “Hand from the
Grave, am I permitted to join in the ceremony?” A harsh single rap of denial, followed by an erratic series of
raps. Over my face I let spread a
puzzled look. Over their faces spread
uncertainty, which I let wait until it became unbearable.
Finally, Antonio squeaked, “What did it say?”
“You can proceed without me. I am not permitted to join you.
Under these conditions you may proceed, and from the Land of the Dead,
my grandmother, the witch, will watch and protect you while you practice your
rituals of necromancy. I will not watch
the ritual. You will be condemned if you ask me for help or advise. Never contact me. I will contact you if and when you become masters of the Ritual
for the Dead. If all does not go well
with future necromantic rituals, you may all,” I looked and pointed with the
‘witch hand’ at each one of them, “all participants will disappear and no one
will ever know where you have disappeared.
In the Land of Darkness and the Land of the Land of the Dead, you will
be tortured throughout eternity. Only
tonight you can proceed safely. Raise your left hand,” they obeyed, “say after
me, I shall forever keep this ceremony,”
I waited until they repeated the phrase, “and all the names of those who
are present. They repeated the words.
“And now all together, repeat the magic word I will utter, and never, ever, say
it again, Now say after me, “Adonoy,” They all uttered it in unison, “Adonoy,”.
Without looking back, I picked up my briefcase as ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ity
and watch the ceremony. The twelve would be mystics wore their black
robes. Antonio seemed to be the leader
as he held a scepter with a human skull and a scroll of yellowed parchment in
his other hand. Jesus wearing a
necklace of human bones had the role of high priest. They were chanting and sipping from black glasses. The novitiate, the thirteenth member of the
group, ran back and forth to an urn, stirring the contents with a human thigh
bone before dipping in a ladle, filling it and
drinking from it first and then refilling the cups of each member. It is
similar to the Hebrew Seder where wine glasses are replenished after each
ceremonial toasting. The drink may have been
laced with hallucinogens. They
were intensely engrossed and somewhat drugged.
The novitiate looked pale, somewhat frightened, but in a seemingly
self-hypnotic trance, staring, blinking, and eager for her initiation to begin.
Danse Macabre
Two of the coffins had been opened exposing a naked male
and female cadaver. They formed a
circle around the tethered bird, Jesus
pulled the novitiate into the center and disrobed her. Naked she stood while Antonio cut the bird’s
tether with a crescent shaped blade, then the bird’s throat. Waving the fluttering, blood spurting bird
over and around the naked novitiate, they chanted. The dying bird was held high and the novitiate tilted her head
and opened her mouth to drink the last drops of blood from the sacrificial
cock.
I was observing the rites of this cult composed of the idle
rich, the bored, thrill seeking members of prominent Puerto Rican
families. I watched their futile
attempts to emulate the rituals of necrophilia sorcery. As the dying bird shed its blood the
chanting became frenzied and they shouted profane condemnations of God, Christ,
and everything holy. They prayed and
supplicated themselves in idolization of Satanic powers. They formed a circle around the sacrificed
cock, facing outward. They disrobed,
standing naked they flung their robes toward the caskets The novitiate joined
the ring of frenzied, yelling cultists joining hands began to dance counter
clockwise. With increasing tempo they
circled thirteen times. By the thirteenth time they were motioning and
gesturing obscenely. The novitiate was
writing and screaming curses at God as she lay down, next to the dead bird, in
the middle of the circle. Antonio drew
a circle of blood around each of her breasts, and the arms of a cross from
nipple to nipple, and the post of the cross started at her lips and wandered
down to her crotch.
She screamed erotically and writhed in ecstasy as Antonio
straddled and entered her. The others
screamed encouragement as Antonio finished and Jesus took his place. The orgy increased in intensity and the
novitiate writhed and screamed more violently as each of the men initiated
her. The women members finally
positioned themselves over the novitiate before they positioned themselves of
the floor for a continuing wild orgy involving all of them. The novitiate had
passed the initiation and continued to screech and clutch her breast which
showed blood trails from her clawing hands.
The cultists were in ecstatic perversity. Briefly each male mounted the female cadaver
and kissed the dead lips, the women lay upon and kissed the dead male. They
were reeling and drinking more, and I felt that were nearing the end of the
ceremony.. I had seen enough. I need not watch the ritual in its entirety. When
it ended, I slipped out the door and drove away.
______________________________________________________________
I often wonder if the
ritual I abstained from was as fantastic as my dream