Libellus Veneri Nigro Sacer (Pt 2): The Primary Tools

In my first post, I gave a brief overview of the Libellus Veneri Nigro Sacer or Tuba Veneris, outlining my intentions to pursue the grimoire’s operation faithfully. This third of May was not only a Friday, but also fell within the range of the new moon; the combination specified for the consecration of the Seal of Venus, the Horn of Venus, and the Book of Venus. Needless to say, I was greatly looking forward to finally embarking on creating these three important instruments for the conjuration of the spirits.

I had previously acquired a brand new leather journal and two new inks (one black and one dove’s blood) to fashion my own “Consecrated Book of the Black Venus”. The Book must be written with the feather of a dove, which can be quite challenging as dove feathers tend to be so short. I made a very simple offering to the local land spirits the Friday before requesting to find a dove feather as I walked, and came across a longer one within half an hour. Satisfied, I took it home and cut it into a makeshift quill. Over the course of the Venus hours, I copied down the Tuba Veneris, including the additional titles in my red dove’s blood. For the first page, I reproduced a likeness of the female Venus standing with her own Horn and Seal, crowned with her symbol over her head. Despite the small feather, I did my best to keep my writing uniform and neat, and I am pleased to say that I’m quite happy with the end result now that it is complete. The rest of the pages will be used for writing down what the six spirits teach me, both about themselves and whatever I question them about in general, as well as the secret signs, hand gestures, and proof of our pacts they produce.

For the Seal of Venus, I cut a hexagram out of copper in the Venus hour using newly purchased tin snips. The grimoire instructs the magician to wear the seal around their neck during the evocation, so I drilled a very small hole into one of the vertices so that a copper jump ring may be affixed along with a chain. Engraving the characters came easily, especially as I’ve already had practice carving various gemstones and metals in the creation of astrological Picatrix talismans (whose elections Salt has been very adept at finding). I passed it through the smoke of verbena, myrtle, and musk and wrapped it in linen before heading to work on the Horn.

I went through great lengths to ensure that the Horn met the specifications laid out in the grimoire. Under the guidance of my Zmaj—my primary guardian and tutelary spirit—I went through a few extra steps in preparing the bull’s horn for the consecration. One of these included another wash in a bath made up of seven Venusian herbs, each prayed over in the Venus hour, in order to further stir the spirit of the bull within it. When I retrieved it from the water, the energetic change noted was immediate. I rinsed it with water and scrubbed any last bits of dirt, blood, and grime out with a toothbrush, and then similarly engraved it in the nighttime Venus hour on the Friday new moon. The engravings appear a little faint when photographed due to the hardness and colouration of the horn, but they can be easily seen in person and I’m very happy with how evenly spaced they ended up being, especially for the seals of the six demons.

Finally, after having passed the Horn through the smoke, I wrapped it in linen and moved on to consecrate the Book. Once baptized and prayed over, I suffumigated it and covered it in green cloth as per the grimoire’s instructions. Since time was of the essence, I made sure that I was already dressed to go outside while preparing the instruments. I’m quite fortunate in that I live a ten minute walk away from a large forest, so it didn’t take long to carry the three instruments inside, locate the nearest stream, and bury them right underneath the bridge which crossed it.

While the process may seem straightforward when written out, the whole day ended up being fraught with omens. Though I didn’t set an alarm for it, I woke up exactly at sunrise when the first Venus hour of the day began. I took the opportunity to pray and then returned to sleep. I would then wake six more times, each after a short but intense, highly-charged dream full of chthonic journeying and magical conflict. I won’t speculate on the natures of these dreams too much, especially as I’ll hopefully be able to confront the six demons of the Tuba Veneris face-to-face in the coming months, but needless to say I was quite taken by the visions. I found that I was physically exhausted upon waking, far more so than I recall being in a long time. The dreams felt like a peculiar combination of test and augury.

Later, as soon as I ascended up the path which led into the forest and its creek, having just buried the instruments, I was suddenly overcome with the exact opposite sensation from how I felt in the morning. Instead of tired, I experienced a prolonged feeling of ecstasy, marked by a surge of power and authority that accompanied me all the way home. I didn’t know quite what to make of it at the time—it was certainly unexpected given that the consecration of the instruments wasn’t even technically complete—but it was definitely empowering. It’s difficult to put precisely into words, but I couldn’t shake the visceral feeling of something “clicking”; that the procedures had been carried out correctly, and that the authority of Anael was being installed into my sphere through the carrying out of these rites. I cross-checked my intuition with divination and then returned to bed, sleeping peacefully in anticipation of their retrieval.

The next day, in the nighttime Venus hour, I returned once more under the cover of darkness to collect my tools. They now sit in my temple space next to the incense blend, inks, and dove’s quill, awaiting future use as I move on to prepare the seals of the demons and the circle itself.

Libellus Veneri Nigro Sacer (Pt 1): First Thoughts

“She is VENUS on High, a name given to me by the Stars.
Soon to be a Stygian sojourner, she appears when the HORN sounds.
The subjugated Dæmon groans under the strength of the SIGN.
Well done! As the victor, infused with glory, you return from the enemy.”

I’ve been fascinated with the Consecrated Little Book of Black Venus ever since I first came across it, but my interest shifted from a merely scholarly appreciation to a sorcerous desire to work it only recently. A confluence of events over the past several months continued to surface it to my attention. The first instance was during a conjuration of the archangel Anael using Trithemius’ Drawing Spirits into Crystals, in which the text was directly cited during my questioning of the spirit. Though I had not mentioned this experience to Salt, I later found out that he had been transcribing me a copy of the Libellus, or Tuba Veneris during Venus hours as a gift for when I last visited him in England.

Upon my return Toronto, I immediately set myself to work planning how I would undertake the operation. As a part of this blog, I intend to chronicle my journey with the Tuba Veneris in its various stages, focusing primarily on the preparation of the tools necessary for the ritual and then, if the operation is successful, providing further insights where possible given the necessary secrecy involved with all spirit conjuration.

Let us begin with the book itself. A short text, written by its own account in 1580, its authorship is attributed to John Dee; though there are many reasons to doubt this. The writing itself does not resemble any of his works, it does not contain his enduring Christian and scholastic undertones, its methodology is unlike that of his other magic, and its dating and place of writing do not align with Dee’s own diaries of where he was. Similarly, he never references the text at any point in the future. At the same time, its dating does place it within his lifetime, and especially during the years in which he was not so famous or remarkable as to warrant pseudepigraphal attribution in the manner of Solomon, Cyprian, or Faust. While Dee’s authorship of the text is neither conclusively proven nor disproven, the ambiguities are significant enough that the Tuba Veneris‘ author is usually referred to as Pseudo-Dee.

The grimoire details how to summon six demons ruled by the planet Venus, also referred to as Anael. Unlike grimoires like the Goetia, these spirits are not distinguished by their particular talents, abilities, and offices, rather they are addressed as a single unit who can accomplish a wide variety of tasks. Examples given include finding hidden treasures, navigating, trade, war. The reader is reminded that “practice and experience will teach a lot”, encouraging one to test the demons. Its magic, unlike Dee’s angelic practices, is “nigromantic” in the sense that it deals with the forceful compelling and binding of the demons. The names of the spirits are: Mogarip, Amabosar, Alkyzub, Belzazel, Falkaroth, and Mephgazub—and their seals, as noted by Teresa Burns, to a certain degree share elements of the Olympic spirits from the Arbatel.

Before one may undertake the operation, five main tools must first be constructed. These are:

  1. The Seal of Venus
  2. The Horn of Venus
  3. The Magical Circle
  4. The Book of Venus
  5. The Seals of the Spirits

The Seal is inscribed with virgin steel instruments on a double-sided copper hexagram during the day and hour of Venus on the new moon, after sundown. It is consecrated with the smoke of verbena, myrtle, and musk, and is then wrapped in linen and buried in the same hours next to a flowing body of water, from which it is recovered on the following night in the Venus hour.

The famous “Tuba Veneris” or Horn of Venus is made from the horn of a living bull, removed during the day and hour of Venus, which is then purified in Vitriol dissolved in vinegar. Once it is washed, the characters given are inscribed using the same steel instruments during the same times, consecrated in the same smoke, and then buried together with the Seal and recovered in the same fashion. The conjuration itself during the evocation of the demons is spoken entirely through the Horn.

A circle which protects the magician is also created during the hours of Venus. The exact materials can vary, with the text suggesting drawing it with a sword or staff in dirt, with a chalk on the floor, or with ink on parchment. I would prefer mine to be fairly durable, so I am likely going to be using a thicker cloth or canvas that can be rolled and stored away when not in use. This is especially as the text instructs to conjure the spirits in a “Safe place free from all human disturbances, either in a building, or better in a Forest or at an isolated and deserted crossroads”. I plan on performing the operation at a dirt crossroads in a forest whose land spirits I have been offering to for some time. The circle is also smoked in the incense and then stored away. It, along with the seals, are the only tools not buried.

The seals of the six demons are made in green wax, similarly consecrated in the smoke though not buried. In the operation, if the demon refuses to cooperate, the magician is told to heat the Seal of Venus (which you are normally wearing over your breast) in the coals of the censer or a candle and then place it over the wax seal so that it melts; this pains the spirit who will beg mercy and relent. Again, these are not buried, rather preserved until the summonings.

Lastly, the Book itself is created. Made from parchment, the text is reproduced (with a few modifications given in the instructions), and is christened the proper “Little Consecrated Book of the Black Venus”. The book is written with a dove feather and virgin ink, again only in the hours of Venus, and then consecrated with smoke, baptized in Vitriol water, and prayed over through the authority of Anael. It is finally wrapped in a green or red cloth and buried with the Seal and Horn in the same way.

Currently, my Book is completed though not yet consecrated. I plan on engraving and fully consecrating the Seal of Venus this coming new moon at a minimum; if I manage to do the same for the Horn, then I will bury them together by a nearby stream as per the text’s instructions.


Teresa Burns and Nancy Turner’s translation of the Tuba Veneris can be found at the following Journal of the Western Mystery Tradition page: [link]. The images in this post were sourced from Jeffrey S. Kupperman’s recreations also published in the same translation.

Hail and Welcome

Welcome to With Cunning & Command, a blog about magic, occultism, grimoires, spirit work, folk lore, and esoteric scholarship. We are magicians, karcists, necromancers, and diviners working with diverse Old and New World traditions, grimoires, and spirit courts joined by common goals, loves, and approaches to the hidden. Here, on our new website, we hope to host book reviews, snippets of ritual procedures, reflections on sorcerous practices, and a miscellany of other related writings. Our work is invested in ever furthering the transformation of the magician as a magical being herself, while concurrently deepening levels of spirit communion and mastery using the twin-forked prongs of knowledge and strength, insight and power—with sagacious cunning and authoritative command.

This blog is run by two authors, partners Sfinga and Salt:

Sfinga is a traditional witch, diviner, and spirit-worker from the Balkans. Born in Serbia, her magic is rooted in the oral traditions of zduhać and zmajevit lineages, especially surrounding ingress with dragon (zmaj) spirits. Fascinated with folk magic, Eastern Orthodox Christianity, Old Slavic folklore and mythology, and various ways of working both devils and saints, she strives towards ever refining new cunning with old wisdom. An alumna of many of Jason Miller’s courses, including Strategic Sorcery, Sorcery of Hekate, and Black School of St. Cyprian, she is also trained in rootwork and is an initiate of Quimbanda through Tata Apokan of the Cabula Mavile Kitulu kia Njila. St. Cyprian of Antioch is one of the most significant spiritual allies in her court both within Quimbanda and in her other practices. She can be most easily reached through this blog or her Instagram.

Salt (also known as Khamaiyinepu) is a magician in the vein of early modern English folk and ritual magic practices, ever cultivating relationships with local land wights while contacting angelic and demonic powers through various grimoires. He also practices Faustian magic following the German ritual praxis of the Magia Naturalis et Innaturalis. Passionate about Ancient Egyptian religion and sorcery, he is a fervent reader of all things pertaining to Kemetic ritual practices. A geomancer and student of Traditional Astrology and Scholastic Image Magic, he has recently begun to delve into the various techniques of the Picatrix. He is the author of the Hadean Press pamphlet, The Devil’s Bestiary: The Magpie.

We thank you for stopping by our new corner of the web! We’ll be updating this space with plenty of new posts in the near future, and we hope that you stay with us as we continue to write about our wanderings along the crooked roads.