Rosicrucian Fun

Are you a Rosicrucian? Would you like to be one? These questions might sound a little random, but I pose them to you as a way of thinking about the resistance (especially in the Arabic-speaking world) to the Red Cross. Now, the two might be entirely unconnected. But, as Old Ken was thinking about this interesting convergence between a major humanitarian organization and the followers of the mysterious Christian Rosencreutz—or the Brotherhood of the Rosy Cross, a secret society supposedly begun in the early 17th century in central Europe as a Protestant resistance movement to the encroachment of Catholic power—I thought of St. George. Famous as a dragon slayer (see below), St. George is also the patron of another occult society, the Order of the Garter. Curiously, as anyone who watches English football will know, the flag of St. George is a red cross on a white background.



So where is Old Ken going with all of this? Well, nowhere in particular. But I did recently visit a curious hunting lodge built to house the "chemical bride" of one of the original Rosicrucian players, Prince Frederick, Elector of the Palatine. Daughter of James I, Elizabeth Stuart ("the Winter Queen") lived a life of impoverished exile at the Hague after the disastrous Battle of the White Mountain in 1620 when Catholic powers retook Prague igniting the Thirty Years War.



With her husband dead and her children (most notably the dashing Prince Rupert) off adventuring in the European wars, the Winter Queen was sustained by her devoted admirer, William Craven. Supposedly, it was for her that the eccentric Craven built the odd lodge you see in the pictures here—a lonely house in the hills of Berkshire called Ashdown House.



Well, such was the story told to Old Ken by a tour guide at Ashdown. I think the truth of the matter might be a little stranger still. For, consider the architecture house: a full quarter of the interior space is occupied with a period stairway that leads all the way up to the balustraded look-out on the roof. There is little of the formal reception area, banqueting facilities or interconnected rooms that would have been appropriate for the home of the Winter Queen.








Yet, just a few miles away lies the great chalk horse of Berkshire—the outlines of a massive horse carved into a steep hillside in prehistoric times (whose circular eye is visible in the middle ground of the photograph below).



More curiously still, the small hillock visible in the center of the picture (nearly kissing the golden rape-seed fields in the distance, with a whitened patch and a worn footpath leading from it) is traditionally known as Dragon Hill. For it was here, legend tells us, that St. George smote the dragon. Clearly, then, Ashdown House was no house for the Queen but some sort of observatory wherein like-minded Rosicrucians could gather and await the return of St. George (or the dragon) upon the nearby hill. As I like to say: proof!