Masonic Arts at Guildford

Nigel Pennick

Source: ​Journal of Geomancy ​Vol. 3 No. 3, April 1979, pp. 73-77.

In recent years, the old theory that geomancy was a thing of mere historical
interest has given way to a realization that secret societies like the
Freemasons and certain elements within the Catholic and Anglican churches
are still practising a form of geomantic art. Work undertaken by the author
on the modern Anglican cathedrals of Liverpool, Coventry and Guildford has
revealed features of siting, consecration and detail which, if displayed by a
medieval cathedral would be a sure sign of practical esoterism in action.
This article is about Guildford Cathedral, the last gothic cathedral to be
started in England.

In 1932, five years after the formation of the diocese of Guildford from out of
part of the old diocese of Winchester, an open competition was held for a
new cathedral. 183 architects entered, and Edward Maufe’s design was
chosen. In 1933, the Earl of Onslow donated a prime geomantic site for the
cathedral – the summit of Stag Hill, the highest point in the vicinity of
Guildford.

To mark the omphalos, a cross made of teak from the ship HMS Ganges was
set up, and the ground-plan was perambulated by the clergy and their
attendants in the age-old manner. A huge number of piles was driven into

the hill in order to set the foundation – 778 in all.

This number, and the symbol taken for the cathedral, is of gematrial interest.
In gematria, numbers represent their Greek or Hebrew counterpart letters.
777 + 1 (colel, = ± 1, an acceptable variation in gematria conventions) is
equal to 37 × 21, traditionally the number of ΣΤΑΥΡΟΣ – the Cross. At that
time, the logo to the right of this wodge of type was chosen as the emblem
which would henceforth represent the cathedral and all its associated
activities.
{74}
{75}

In 1936, full ritual was again used in the laying of the foundation stone of the
cathedral by the archbishop of Canterbury. In 1937, the last pile was driven
with the aid of Queen Mary, and work went ahead until the war brought it to
a standstill. The projected date of consecration of 1941 was put off, and work
did not resume again until 1948. The final completion and consecration was
not until 17th May 1961, exactly 20 years after it had been originally
intended.

The cathedral’s orientation, unlike those at Liverpool and Coventry, which

are S–N and N–S respectively, is on the traditional E–W axis, with the altar
at the east. Internally and externally, there are key symbols and carvings
which indicate the esoteric purpose of the structure.

The rose window above the high altar depicts the dove and the gifts of the
holy spirit, which the cathedral is dedicated to. At the crossing, the
omphalos of the church from which Maufe derived its ad triangulum
(vesica-based) geometry, the highest point of Stag Hill, there is a small
leaping metal stag set into the floor. The official explanation for the
inclusion of this seemingly pagan–geomantic emblem is that it is a reminder
of the time when the Kings of England used to hunt in the district. However,
elsewhere in the cathedral, high up on the outside of the tower, is a more
esoteric reminder – the carving on the south-facing side of St. Hubert, the
patron of the Royal Chase over which he looks.

This tower has four guardians of the directions, continuing the age-old
tradition of the guardians of the four quarters which occurs in geomantic
lore throughout the globe.

The east is guarded by St. Blaise, patron of the Guildford Woolmen of the
middle ages. The South has St. Hubert, the West, St. Augustine, founder of
the archbishopric of Canterbury. On the North is St. Swithin, now famed for
his 40 day rain curse, but in reality the most loved prelate of Winchester.
The four guardians thus reproduce the attributes of the sacred sites in the
directions to which they face.

Mystic dimensions are uncommon in modern buildings. The structures

designed by inspired architects like Gaudí, Bragdon or Steiner according to
transcendent principles are notable in their material difference from the
average edifices of commerce. Even in cathedrals, poured concrete usually
takes precedence over the numbers of knowledge. At Guildford, the ancient
transcendent measure used by the master architect Wren at St. Paul’s was
used by Maufe for the internal length. This number, 365, in addition to
being the number of days in a year, which makes the church symbolic of
God’s year and hence the whole of progressive creation in Christian
mythology, is the number of ABRAXAS, knowledge, and from it the magic
word ABRACADABRA, now devolved into {​ 76}​ the status of conjurors
mumbo-jumbo, is derived. Kerrich, in his unpublished musings on the
geometry of King’s College Chapel, recently rediscovered, attributes these
letters to the 11 divisions between the twelve severies of the vaulting of this
gothic masterpiece. In Hebrew qabbalistic calculation, this word is
equivalent to the number 416, the side of the mystically revealed City of
Ezekiel.

In addition to the gematrial length and the guardians of the four quarters,
the cathedral is laid out with ad triangulum geometry. Starting at the
omphalos on the apex of Stag Hill, a system of rhombs is developed with the
use of the equilateral triangles (and thus a series of vesicae piscibus). Every
feature of the cathedral is defined by these geometric figures and their
intersections, harmonically relating each part to the others, and thence,
through the universal geometry via the matrix of cathedral–church–chapel
(a sustaining grid), to the divine harmony of the universe.

A visit to Guildford cathedral is recommended to anyone of an esoteric

inclination. The ‘keys’ are there for anyone to read. What we can make of it
is disputable. Are they a remnant of a nearly-lost system which have been
used for ‘old times’ sake’, with little knowledge behind them, or are they a
latter-day continuation of a venerable and living tradition, still practised
behind the bolted doors of masonic lodges? All we can do is look, and judge.
The Chapter House is octagonal, with an ‘eye of light’ issuing from the roof.
It was donated by Ronald Wates, the builder. The wrought iron gates of the
Lady Chapel, which is built in a different style from the rest of the cathedral,
were donated by the Freemasons of Surrey. Similar ‘keys’ abound. In a
future article, I will deal with the strange case of Coventry Cathedral, as
there are many aspects of Ritual Magic in the Church of England to be
unravelled – for example, see the Bishop of Exeter’s report on Exorcism,
1972, outlined in Tom Graves’s excellent book Needles of Stone.