The steamship Alcantara carried them to Lisbon, where poet Fernando Pessoa (1888–1935) greeted them at the dock on September 2, 1930. Like Crowley, Pessoa found inspiration for his poems—like “Nirvana” (1906) and “The Circle” (1907)—in mediums, kabbalah, Rosicrucians, Theosophy, magic, and mysticism. He had ordered a copy of 777 from a London book dealer in 1917, and in November 1929 contacted Mandrake Press to purchase the Confessions. When Pessoa identified an error in the Confessions in Crowley’s natal chart and notified the press in a letter dated December 4, 1929, it prompted a personal reply from Crowley. Thus began their correspondence. Pessoa would even translate “Hymn to Pan” into Portuguese to include in his Presença 33 (1931). Crowley called him “a really good poet, the only man who has ever written Shakespearean Sonnets in the manner of Shakespeare. It is about the most remarkable literary phenomena in my experience.”22
The wayfarers took a room at the Hotel de l’Europe. They bathed in the sea at Estoril beach, walked along the shore, and enjoyed the sights. One of these was the Boca de Inferno, or Mouth of Hell, in Cascaes, twenty-three miles from Lisbon. The fantastic rocks of this ravine leading out to sea, jutting straight up from the mouth of the Tagus, had been hollowed out by the waves. It so impressed Crowley that he wrote in his diary, “I wish the west coast of Scotland could see it.”
As they traveled, Crowley also trained the Monster to become his next Scarlet Woman. Although she easily saw astral visions with the help of drugs, they disturbed and frightened her. On September 16 she used alcohol during a ritual for success in some moneymaking scheme: when she saw visions, she began sobbing and became hysterical; then said she was sick of magick and wanted to kill herself. In the end, the manager interrupted the incident and ordered them to leave the hotel.
Moving to Estoril the next day, Hanni seemed better; however, as Crowley booked a room for them, she vanished. He searched the area, recording in his diary, “There is no news of her yet—6 p.m.” The next day, with still no word, he noted: “Worrying like the devil.” The next day, September 19, he resolved: “I am not going to get over this—unless she comes back.” He found her later that day in Lisbon, where the American Consul advised her to go home. Crowley—seeing both his romance and travelogue crumbling—asked her to reconsider. Although she returned with him that evening, she sailed for Germany early the next morning.
Finding himself alone, Crowley vented his frustration in a letter to Maria, who complained that he did not visit during his last trip to London.
Dear Maria,
I did not ring you up when I passed through London because you answered my very serious letter with the most trivial everyday nonsense.
Also you have been trying to seduce Israel Regardie and I know not who else. It is galling to my pride that some say you failed!
Anyhow, you had better get a man who will stand for your secret drinking and your scandalous behavior. I gave you a great chance in life, and you threw it away. Tant pis!23
You should get a divorce. I admit what some dithering nincompoops are still imbecile enough to call “misconduct” on 47 occasions since August 3rd—the fatigue of constant travel must excuse the smallness of the figure—with Hanni Jaeger of Berlin.
It will be no good asking for alimony because we are all in the soup together with the Rt. Hon. Lord Beaverbrook and the British Empire. Best of all to you!24
Crowley stuffed the letter into an envelope and set out on a walk. Passing the astonishing Mouth of Hell, inspiration struck.
On September 23 at 6:36 p.m., the moment of the autumnal equinox, he left a cryptic note at Boca de Inferno, weighted down by his cigarette case:
L.G.P.
I cannot live without you. The other “Boca de Inferno” will get me—it will not be so hot as yours!
Hjsos!
Tu
Li
Yu
The signature was a joke on Crowley’s part: toodle-oo. (Pessoa would explain to the press that this was one of Crowley’s previous incarnations, a Chinese sage who lived some three thousand years before Christ; but he may well have been perpetuating the joke.) The next day, Crowley received a note from Hanni. It contained only one sentence, yet said everything: “Love is the law, love under will.” Crowley quietly left Portugal on September 24 to rendezvous with his lover in Germany.
Meanwhile, Pessoa (according to plan) told the press that his friend Aleister Crowley had disappeared. When journalist Ferreira Gomes found the note at Hell’s Mouth the next day, the Diario de Noticias and Noticias Illustrado carried the story of Crowley’s mysterious disappearance. Papers throughout Europe quickly picked it up, including the French magazine Détective, which ran a large article titled “L’énigme de la Bouche d’Enfer” [“The Mystery of the Mouth of Hell”]. The New York Herald, Paris ran a photo of two silhouettes looking out at the sea from Boca de Inferno; although the figures are unidentified, they are Crowley and Hanni, photographed by the Beast’s friend, writer Herbert Gorman (1893–1954). However, British censors delayed the stories pending further information. Many papers nevertheless carried the news as it broke, helping spread rumors that Crowley had been murdered, perhaps by a fanatic Catholic priest.
The case became even more mysterious when Portuguese officials stated that, according to their records, Crowley had left the country on September 23. Pessoa, however, insisted that he saw Aleister Crowley on the 23rd and twice on the 24th. Thus, either Crowley left Portugal on the 23rd and returned the next day, or there were two Crowleys, one who left Portugal and another who committed suicide. “Famous Mystic or His?” ran a headline in the Empire News. The plot thickened when rumor had it that police raided Crowley’s posh Berlin headquarters, finding information on a Soviet plan for world domination, suggesting Crowley was a wealthy secret agent who had run afoul.
AC, who kept a low profile in Germany as the drama of his disappearance unfolded, instructed Thynne and Yorke to milk this for all it was worth. Hanni had Regardie set up a bogus seance with Alfred Vout Peters (1867–1934), the well-known London clairvoyant and trance medium who had attempted to contact the recently departed Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859–1930). “Students of magick should avoid all spiritualists as they should avoid syphilis,” Crowley warned Regardie; it was a double entendre, referring not only to mediums but also to the Serpent’s bout with venereal disease. On October 14, the Oxford Mail announced the seance to reach Crowley’s spirit. The Doyle Medium Jest, as Crowley called it, began with a slow description of Crowley’s visit to Lisbon; eventually, Peters described Crowley’s walk in the countryside, where he stopped by Boca de Inferno. Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. By whom? His enemies: either Roman Catholics or Freemasons. The body, Peters claimed, would never be found. Regardie’s management of the stunt and its ensuing publicity so pleased Hanni that she told Crowley, “Wait till I get to London. I’ll fuck that bastard silly.”25
In order to milk money out of the publicity, Crowley pseudonymously sent the following letter to Anthony Powell at Duckworth:
My dear Powell,
I am the beautiful German girl for whose love the infamous Aleister Crowley committed suicide.
Posing as Hanni, AC offered to sell the manuscript of My Hymen, the eighty-thousand-word story of their elopement, for a £500 advance on a fifteen percent royalty. Although this was the same deal they gave Betty May for her biography Tiger Woman, they declined the offer.
While Crowley traipsed across the continent with Hanni Jaeger, Yorke fumed in London. He thought Crowley irresponsible for leaving Marie penniless and begging Yorke for help. “If that woman starves, you can be sent to prison for not keeping her since you married her,” Yorke threatened him at one time;26 later, he wrote with exasperation, “You are a callous old sinner at times.”27 The two argued passionately about Marie, Yorke insisting that Crowley live up to his responsibility and AC accusing Yorke of sleeping with his wife. Twas to no avail.
Yorke ultimately resigned himself to accepting Crowley�
�s vagaries and to maintaining a distance from him. In a note to himself, he wrote:
It is a curious world. I cannot stand for A.C.’s behaviour in leaving Marie without a bean and refusing to support her. I cannot stand for his wasting other people’s money the way he does, or for his taking money for one purpose and using it for another. In his own mind of course he so associates himself with the work that he thinks money spent on himself as money spent on the work. Possible theoretically, but won’t go down in practice. I cannot sincerely pull with him in that side of his work. Yet I am heart and soul in the movement. I see his actions as endangering the movement. Practically he has still to prove his point. Up till now his method has only led from one mess to another. It is up to him to prove his way. Meanwhile my best way to help the world is quietly to do my best to prepare what I consider a decent solid foundation … But I cannot work with A.C. in the way he would like as I sincerely disapprove of his method.28
Yorke ultimately became a distant but staunch advocate of Crowley, supporting his work without becoming involved in it. Developing an interest in Buddhism, much of his attention would go to the Dalai Lama, serving as his spokesman and publishing his books.
Thinking it was better for Marie to receive a token amount than for Crowley to face charges of not supporting her, Yorke paid her an allowance from the publication fund, over which Crowley had given him power of attorney. Yorke paid her £60 by the time he received a telegram from Crowley, asking for the publication fund money to help with his stunt. In response, Yorke wired back, “Tell 666 there are two of them. They both bounce.” Or, in vernacular, “Balls.” Incensed, Crowley revoked Yorke’s power of attorney and placed Regardie in charge. Thus, AC cast off the rich boy from Gloucestershire.
Knowing only £30 remained in the account, Yorke advised the bank to accept Regardie’s signature but warned that he would not be responsible for overdrawn checks. He contends Regardie used the money on himself.29 Per Crowley’s instructions, Yorke then gave the diaries, books, photos, and other materials he had been storing to Crowley’s solicitor, Isidore Kerman (1905–1998).30 The only thing keeping Yorke from resigning his trusteeship was the fact that legal costs would come from the fund; as much as he wanted to sever business ties with Beast, he knew Crowley needed the money.
AC seemed to be owning up to his responsibility when he offered Marie a portion of his trust payment. Since the law required Crowley to send the money to her himself, Yorke sent him the balance of their storage settlement on October 25, assuming this money would go to Marie. However, Crowley spent it all. Yorke could bear no more. In frustration, he suspended his financial dealings with Crowley. “You are funny when you propose disassociating yourself from matters out of which you have been chucked,” AC responded. “You will do more wisely to ask rehabilitation in a chastened spirit.”31
Life with Hanni Jaeger continued to be as stormy and intense as ever. When harmonious, it left Crowley in emotional and sexual bliss. But when they clashed, it was fierce: she often moved out for the night, only to return the next day. Further complicating things were her profound mood swings, bizarre behavior, and physical symptoms that always subsided long enough for her to seduce him. Thus, when Hanni complained of abdominal pains after Halloween, Crowley found it difficult to take her seriously. When a man called to say Hanni was in the hospital and would not be home that night, Crowley assumed she had simply found someone else with whom to sleep. He was alarmed to discover she was truly in the hospital with kidney trouble. Despite her illness, constant seductions of Crowley—and just as many rows—studded Hanni’s return home. Some of Crowley’s diary entries from this period are illuminating:
November 22, 1930. She is violently excited all day—sexually & otherwise. Severe melancholic & erotic outbursts. There is absolutely no reason for any nervous upset of any kind; but she changes from mood to mood in the most sudden way. This attack is more prolonged & severe than any I have observed so far. And it is more than usually causeless. She ended by wanting to go out; when I objected, pretended to ring up the police—a too familiar trick. She then calmed down, & at last woke up into an infantile state. I undressed her, & put her to bed in my pyjamas. In short, every possible phase—She has now called me in, to listen to hallucinations, real or no; e.g. “I don’t want you to go away behind the tree.”
December 16, 1930. One of her sadistic tricks is to make herself suffer physically from starvation, cold etc. in order to make me suffer from sympathy. E.g. she will ask for something she obviously needs (& could take without asking) & when supplied (as of course) she refuses it with violent rage, & then moans & screams because she hasn’t got it.
Crowley summed up their antipathy by writing: “I love her. I’ve thought of nothing else all day. I’ve even abused her to have an excuse to talk about her!”32
They fought again two days before Christmas, and she again moved out. Depressed, Crowley dreamed of her on Christmas Eve and went home early from Christmas dinner with the Germers, hoping she might call. She did not. When, on boxing day, he found her at Romanisches Café (one of Berlin’s great coffeehouses), she claimed she had purchased a gift for him, but the waiter had lost or stolen it. Then she told Crowley of her plans “to stop eating, prostitute herself to get money for cigarettes & brandy & to hire a room with gas & a hot bath to open her veins in.”33 Two days later she was again herself, but the magic was gone. Their rituals soon trailed off, she moved out, and they both moved on. When Crowley became sick in January 1931, he likened his intestinal difficulties to his soul’s purging of Hanni Larissa Jaeger.
Crowley later heard that the Monster had killed herself shortly after they parted.34 However, a twenty-one-year-old Hanni Jaeger arrived in New York from Hamburg in late 1931.35 It is entirely possible that Crowley (along with his biographers) was tricked by her own version of the suicide stunt.
Yorke continued urging Crowley to deal honorably with his wife by writing:
I gave Maria dinner the other night, and found her in a very bad way. Rent is paid up to the end of the month, but she is very short of food, and in a bad nervous condition, talking to everyone of suicide. Her genuine attempts to find work have met with very little success. She got one regular job, but lost it through being your wife when John Bull attacked you and the Mandrake Press early in January.… I tell her that from your letters to me you appear to want to treat her decently and to make some allowance—you know she is not extravagant. But in practice she receives nothing, and one cannot blame her for suspecting you of prevarication.36
Given Crowley’s continued inaction, Marie finally sued for support in Marelybone Police Court. Crowley responded by advising his solicitor of Marie’s drunken scenes and paranoid outbursts. But as Regardie made brutally clear:
Monster’s note about it being much better for the Great Work if you were plaintiff is perfectly true. It is too bad that that wasn’t thought of several months ago when Maria received your letter stating that you had committed adultery umpteen times and that only the rigours of travelling prevented the number being greater. The letter must have caused you a great deal of pleasure when written, but, alas, it prevents you even thinking of being plaintiff for divorce now. One can’t have things both ways.37
Before the case ever came to court, Marie lost her resolve and wrote to Yorke:
Alas everything is cruel to me. When you get this letter, I am died. I leave this world without regret, because I know that now I go for ever take a dear rest. Please write after to Crowley that in my last moment I could not forgive him. Farewell.38
On February 28, 1931, Marie also wrote to Colonel Carter, “Nobody is responsible of my suicide only Aleister Crowley.”39 Carter had previously advised Crowley, “I suggest that you had better cease knocking around the continent and come back to your wife at once or you will be getting yourself into serious trouble.…”40 Now he warned Yorke that Crowley could get two years in prison for wife desertion.
Marie soon disappeared. She drifted t
o the Embankment, eventually winding up in a workhouse where she was certified insane and committed to Colney Hatch Asylum near Southgate—the same place, ironically, that Rose went with alcoholic dementia. Because she was certified, Crowley could not sue for divorce. Maria became case number 23112, suffering from delusions that she was married to the Great Beast 666, was the daughter of the King and Queen of England, and that she married her brother, the Prince of Wales. When Yorke visited Marie later in 1931, he showed her doctor, to his great surprise, one of Crowley’s calling cards, which identified him as the Great Beast 666.
The Great Work of 1931 revolved around planning an exhibit of Crowley’s paintings. Crowley was in touch with Karl Nierendorf (1889–1947), a German dealer and promoter of modern art.41 Nierendorf claimed only three other painters could be classed with Crowley, and believed the public would pay twenty-five thousand reichsmarks per painting. He offered to show the paintings at his Porza Gallery in Berlin. As Yorke and Hanchant shipped the paintings for a planned February showing, Crowley wrote excitedly, “The great Nierendorf is showing my pictures (Time will show whether this is a practical joke on Europe or on me).”42
The joke, it turns out, was on Crowley. On February 11 the exhibit was postponed. Undaunted, Crowley spent the next months painting hard and organizing the framing and storage of his works until the rescheduled exhibit. Many of those whom he sampled as potential Scarlet Women that spring and summer served as models, but none of them fit the bill as Whore of Babalon. Despite continued bouts with cold, asthma, and other ailments, Crowley’s search for a sexual partner continued.
On August 1, feeling sidetracked by his recent romances and painting, Crowley did a ritual to get back on track with his prophetic mission. His partner in this act of sex magick was Pola Henckels; of all his lovers at this time, Crowley noted she “may possibly be the one.”43 The ritual felt potent, and convinced him that they’d generated a new current.
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