AMORC assures
that its founder Spencer Lewis was initiated in August 1909 in the city of
Toulouse (located in the South East of France) in an old tower called Donjon
where the French Rosicrucians were installed.
And we find
this affirmation in several AMORC documents, such as in the book Rosicrucian Documents where a photography
of the Donjon appears that we reproduce below:
Below the
photo there is a text in English and Spanish that says:
« This impressive tower building in Toulouse, southern France, was at once
time the center of the old Rose-Croix, the French Rosicrucian Order, whose
authority chronologically dates back several centuries. It was here that Dr. H.
Spencer Lewis was initiated into the Order in 1909, and from whence he
subsequently received his authority to reestablish AMORC in America. »
(p.4)
WHAT LEWIS SAID ABOUT IT
Lewis in his
first account of how he was initiated by the French Rosicrucians entitled
"A Pilgrim's Journey to the East" and published in his magazine The American Rosae-Crucis, May 1916,
wrote the following:
« After many years'
study of the exoteric work of Rosaecrucianism and an increasing, obsessional
desire to join with the Brotherhood, unselfish in its great undertakings for
the betterment and unity of man, I wrote —after a deep inner impression to do
so— to the unknown editor of the Parisian paper.
The answer was discouraging and
encouraging. Just what else I could have expected I did not know. It was
gratifying to see that my request met with recognition and a prompt reply. I
was delighted to learn that the great Brotherhood was not "extinct"
as so many reference books proclaimed. But that I must go to Paris to learn
"something of the circle" simply meant a postponement of a
realization of my hopes and desires. »
(p.12)
Lewis
narrates that he went to Paris and after meeting with his contact and
investigating, a professor of languages gave him an engraving with the image of the
Toulouse Donjon, so Lewis traveled to that city and there he went to the Hall
of the Illustres located in the Capitole building where he met an eminent
photographer who pointed him in the direction of the Donjon.
So Lewis
went to that tower:
« I rode in a carriage. They have
trolley-cars in Toulouse far superior to any in Paris or even America; but none
would take me along the boulevard. I rode perhaps a mile before I realized that
I must watch for something. Surely there was a reason for this little jaunt. So
I kept a careful search of all persons, places and things. I rode another mile.
I was out of the heart of the city and was going in a different direction. I
was, in fact, practically skirting the city. I saw old churches, old buildings,
some old Roman Bridges across the Garonne, some ruined places —and then— ah, at
last, the Old Tower.
There, before me, was the actual
Tower itself, the one I had seen in the picture at the Professor's store in
Paris. I notified the driver to stop, I paid and dismissed him. And, in rapture
and doubt, I stood before that Old Tower (known to Rosaecrucians as "The Dongeon")
for many minutes with a feeling in my heart that, somehow, this was the goal. My
search was ended. So, I have taken the privilege of reproducing with this story
the first picture of that sacred old place that has ever come to America.
I will be more brief now. I do
not want to tire you with details. You, like myself, are anxious to see the
end, — to know the outcome of this search for Light.
So I approached the Old Tower, —not
with— out some misgivings, but certainly as bravely and boldly as I have
approached many less weird looking places.
At the Old Tower door I knocked.
Then I discovered a bell-cord and pulled it. I heard it ringing somewhere in
the depths of that old structure, which seemed to have been built a thousand
years ago. In fact it was.
As the ringing died away a
question came to my mind. What should I say if I received any response? I trust
that my reader will picture me-or picture yourself-standing before the heavy
wooden, iron-bound, rusty, worm-eaten door, the stones in front of which were
stained with green and between which moss and grass were growing. Whose place this
was, what it was, prison, jail, home of a madman, or what, I did not know. Yet
I was asking for admittance.
Finally I heard a cracking sound
and noticed the door open a little way. I waited. It was very dark within and
there was no sign of life. Then I pushed the door open wide and found an old-but
not dusty-stairway in front of me. I stepped in and actually closed the heavy
door behind me tightly, and heard the lock tumble into place. I was really
locking myself in-and fearlessly doing it.
From up-stairs came a sound of
something being moved. All sounds seemed to echo in the building. There was a
great opening above the first flight and from there on upward the stairway was
circular and each floor consisted of a gallery surrounding the stairway. The galleries
were Dot more than 8 feet wide-and very dark.
I gazed upward through the
opening and shouted "Hello." Not very appropriate, I grant you. It was
the "telephone habit" manifesting itself on impulse, I suppose. But
it brought forth a soft but distinct "Entre, entre," from an upper
floor.
I immediately began my ascent. I
saw then that the stairs were made of stone, as were the floors. The edges of
the steps were deeply worn — I should judge that wear had cut into each stone
to the depth of three inches at the deepest part of the curve. The walls too,
were of gray stone, the plaster or cement between the stones being gone in many
places, and a mouldy odor pervaded the atmosphere. As I ascended I found that
the upper galleries were lighter and I could distinguish shelves against the
walls, filled with old books.
At last I reached the upper floor
to find that it was a square room with a glass roof and a number of small
windows. There were some bookcases about the walls stacked with very old and
very rare books. There were two tables — crudely made and very old.
There were also about twenty old
chairs —each being a rare piece of antique furniture— and an old desk littered
with manuscripts, several sealing outfits, candle, sealing wax, matches, some
chemicals, a quill pen, ink and some horoscopical maps.
I was greeted by an old man. I
say old, because he had a very long gray beard and pure white hair hanging to
his shoulders and slightly curled. He stood erect, however, with broad
shoulders, a good figure, bright snappy brown eyes and full rosy cheeks. His
voice was soft, his actions spry and his dress a white mantle of good linen
embroidered with some symbols then unknown to me but not known to many who read
this story.
I addressed him in English:
"I have intruded, sir," I began. "first because I believe this
building to be of interest to me, and secondly because you bid me enter. I am
searching for some rare information and perhaps you can tell me something of
that which I seek, — especially since you are interested in astrology." I
said this last pointing to his desk and the maps upon it.
To my surprise he answered in
English, but brokenly and with a deep, French accent:
"You have come here, my
young friend, not by intrusion. You know astrology; you know 'arcs of
direction.' Your coming here was by direction. See, I have there on my desk. Your
horoscope. I have expected you, — for there is a letter addressed to you. I
know your purpose, for the contents of that letter is an answer to your
question. But be seated. I have many things to show you and to explain.
"You have earnestly sought
the Rose Croix Order. You wish to enter the sacred brotherhood. Your wish may
be granted-but what then? You will help in the great work? You will spread the
work to your land? You wish for a Herculean task I I admire your courage, your
bravery and your determination.
"You have been well spoken
of by those who have met you. You are surprised. Did not ______ meet you on the
steamer and direct you? His reports are there on my desk. Did not Professor ______
meet you in Paris and examine you? He sent me his report and your birthdate
which you will find I have changed by two minutes. You were watched by those who
observed your movements in Paris by day and by night. I have their reports.
You were watched in Montpellier,
and again in this city. Four of our Brothers have seen you and have had an
opportunity to look into your eyes and report to me. Monsieur ______ the photographer
made the final decision this very day. You shall now meet our beloved Grand
Master and Imperator in his Holy Temple.
"But before you leave here-and
you will not again return to this place-I wish to show you the accurate records
we preserve. I am the Grand Archivist. Here you will see the records of our
Brothers and Sisters since the Order was established in this country. Nothing is
ever lost to our records-not even the thumb prints of our members. Here your
letters will be filed, your reports, your grants, your degrees and your work.
The all-seeing eye, the all knowing mind, receives-and here it shall be
recorded for all time.
I spent an hour examining some
rare hand-made, hand-illuminated books. I saw one book — made in the time of
Christ, recording His work for the Order,-containing a sketch in water colors
of the true Christ and other sketches of incidents of His life. The book was
bound with wood and iron, had iron hinges and an iron lock-all greatly rusted.
I saw articles from Egypt, from various pyramids and Temples. I saw rare relics
from Jerusalem and other countries. And I saw the last Oath of the Order made
by Lafayette before he came to America.-the first Rosaecrucian from France to
come here. May his name ever remain sacred to the Order in America. And then — I
departed with more directions. »
(p.24-26)
HOW GENUINE IS THIS STORY?
The first
thing that is disconcerting is that Spencer Lewis does not give the name of any
of the characters with whom he claims to have met: neither the editor, nor the
professor, nor the photographer, which prevents having other witnesses who can
corroborate his story.
He then
further puzzles that Lewis's drawing of the Donjon is very different from the
real Donjon.
But what is
really puzzling is that Lewis says that from the Capitole he had to travel for
a long time to the outskirts of the city to finally reach the Donjon, when in
fact the Donjon is in front of the Capitole a few meters away.
Perhaps Lewis thought he went to the Donjon when in
fact he went to another tower located far away?
I doubt it
very much because Lewis was a big liar and it is most likely that he made up
this story based on some information he obtained about Toulouse, but without
bothering to investigate further in order to avoid making such mistakes.
In fact
Lewis wrote three different versions of his "initiation" in France,
which shows that he did not mind paying attention to detail. And his
organization, AMORC, is not interested in paying attention to the details
either, since in the document that I put above and I retranscribe below, his author wrote several falsehoods:
« This impressive tower building in Toulouse, southern France, was at once
time the center of the old Rose-Croix, the French Rosicrucian Order, whose
authority chronologically dates back several centuries. It was here that Dr. H.
Spencer Lewis was initiated into the Order in 1909, and from whence he
subsequently received his authority to reestablish AMORC in America. »
It is false
that Lewis was Doctor since he fraudulently attributed this title.
And it is
also false that Lewis was initiated into the Donjon because Lewis said that
after he left the Donjon, he was initiated a few days later in a residence
outside of Toulouse.
And it is
also false that the Donjon was for a time the center of the French Rosicrucian
Order because Lewis specified that the Donjon was only the archive, but also
this building was in ruins for a long time and was only restored in 1887 by the
impulse of Viollet-le-Duc, adapting since then this tower for official
activities of the municipality of Toulouse.
~*~
And this is one more example of the charlatanism and
lack of seriousness of AMORC and its founder.
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