by D J McAdam
One
of the great astrologers of the seventeenth century, William Lilly became so not
by any intention on his part but rather by the chance acquisition of a
mysterious golden amulet. How he came into possession of this charm is an
interesting story, involving not just gold and astrology but magic and, perhaps,
demonic possession.
William Lilly started out in life as neither a wealthy nor a well-educated man. Arriving in London as a young person with little more than the clothes on his back and seven shillings sixpence in his pocket, he found employment from Gilbert Wright, a Leicestershire man of kindly disposition. The work that Lilly was charged with, as described in his autobiography, was hardly glamorous:
"My work was to go before my master to church; to attend my master when he went abroad; to make clean his shoes; sweep the street; help to dry his back when he washed; fetch water from the Thames; weed the garden; scrape the trenchers, and all manners of drudgeries I willingly performed."
What turned this poor country bumpkin into a man of wealth and fame? Directly or indirectly, the answer is: a magical golden amulet. The charm had originally belonged to Wright's wife and, before that, to Mistress Wright's first husband. He - the first husband - had once:
" . . . when traveling in Sussex, happened to lodge in an inn, and to lie in a chamber thereof, wherein not many months before a country grazier had lain, and in the night cut his own throat. After this night's lodging, he was perpetually, and for many years, followed by a spirit, which vocally and articulately provoked him to cut his throat. He was heard frequently to say: "I defy thee,' and to spit at the spirit. The spirit followed him many years, he not making anybody acquainted with it, until at last he grew melancholy and discontented, which being carefully observed by his wife, she many times hearing him pronounce, 'I defy thee,' desired him to acquaint her with the cause of the distemper which he then did."
Once the woman learned of the cause of her husband's troubles, she obtained a magical charm for him. He wore the amulet, made of gold, around his neck until the day he died. When he did so, the widow retained the amulet as her personal possession, even after marrying Gilbert Wright. When she in turn passed away in 1624, Wright discovered a small scarlet bag kept by her containing several sigils, amulets, charms, and "curious things," some inscribed with astrological symbols, including those of Jupiter and Venus. Wright presumably wanted no part of the occult treasure, and gave it to Lilly. Here is Lilly's own description of the contents of the bag, including the golden amulet:
"There were some of iron and one of gold, pure angel gold of a thirty-shilling piece of King James coinage. In the circumference of this, on one side was engraven: VICIT LEO de TRIBU JUDAE. TETRAGRAMMATON; and within the middle a 'Holy Lamb.' In the circumference on the obverse side, were 'Amraphel' and three crosses, and in the center SANCTUS PETRUS, ALPHA OMEGA."
Almost immediately upon coming into possession of the amulet, Lilly's life changed radically. He suddenly had more leisure time, and more money. He began to study astrology. He authored astrological almanacs, which brought him wealth. He is said to have accurately predicted the Great Fire of London, and was called to Parliament to testify about his foreknowledge of the event. Unlike most astrologers, he was wealthy and respected even at the end of his life. At his death, the following elegy was published:
And what of the amulet itself? Does it still exist today? Lilly claims to have drawn a copy of it shortly after receiving it, and then to have "sold the sigil for thirty-two shillings." Did he really sell it? And to whom? We have no answer. Perhaps at some point in its history it was melted down. Perhaps it lies in the bottom of some forgotten trunk in someone's attic, unrecognized. Perhaps . . ."Our prophet's gone; no longer may our ears
Be charm'd with musick of th' harmonious spheres.
Let Sun and Moon withdraw, leave gloomy night
To shew their Nuncio's Fate, who gave more light
To th' erring world, than all the feeble Rays
Of Sun or Moon; taught us to know those days
Bright Titan makes."
By D. J. McAdam © 2005. Please note: all applicable material on this website is protected by law and may not be copied without express written permission.

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