Rank: Duke · Legions: 30 · Element: Earth · Direction: South · Enn: Eveta fubin Barbatos
Barbatos is the eighth spirit of the Ars Goetia — a great Duke who governs thirty legions of spirits and comes, the grimoires say, only when the Sun stands in the sign of the Archer. He arrives in state, attended by four noble kings and their great companies of troops, and he brings with him gifts of a rare and gentle kind: the understanding of the singing of birds and the voices of all creatures, the breaking-open of treasures that magicians have sealed by enchantment, the knowledge of all things past and to come, and the reconciling of friends and of those who hold power. Above all, the old texts remember him for a single distinction that sets him apart from the fiercer spirits: he is of the angelic Order of the Virtues, of which he retains some part still. In Barbatos the seeker meets a spirit who fell and yet kept a portion of his former grace — a lord of the wild speech of creation and of the harmony between estranged things, gracious where many are terrible, and standing as a kind of bridge between the world of beasts and the world of angels.
He descends to the modern practitioner through the long chain of grimoires under the steady name Barbatos. He appears among the dukes of the infernal hierarchy in Johann Weyer's Pseudomonarchia Daemonum of 1577, and was carried over as the eighth spirit when that material was gathered into the Ars Goetia, the first book of the Lemegeton or Lesser Key of Solomon in the seventeenth century. Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers and Aleister Crowley fixed the modern English text in their edition of the Goetia in 1904, and Jacques Collin de Plancy kept his memory among the spirits of his Dictionnaire Infernal. Across all of these the account holds firm and full: the great Duke who comes in Sagittarius with four kings, the giver of the speech of birds and beasts, the breaker of enchanted treasure, the angel of the Order of the Virtues who retains his grace, the knower of past and future, and the reconciler of friends and the powerful. Few spirits are given so rounded and so consistent a character.
Barbatos is among the small number of Goetic spirits for whom the grimoires give a precise astrological timing: he appears, they say, when the Sun is in Sagittarius — the season of the Archer, the late weeks of the year. This is no idle detail. Sagittarius is the sign of the centaur-archer, the half-man and half-beast who is at home in the wild and versed in the hunt, and it is a fitting house for a spirit whose gift is the understanding of the animal world. The sign belongs, in the old astrology, to Jupiter — the greater fortune, the planet of expansion, benevolence, and grace — and so the very timing of Barbatos's coming knits together his beneficent nature and his lordship over beasts. These planetary and seasonal correspondences are read as symbolic resonance rather than handed down as separate doctrine, but the grimoire's own naming of Sagittarius makes them more than idle invention: the Archer's season is the door through which this Duke is said to come.
Barbatos does not come alone. The grimoires describe him appearing in the company of four noble kings and their great companies of troops — a grand procession, almost a royal progress, that marks his high dignity among the spirits. To be attended by four crowned kings and their armies is to be no minor power but a lord before whom lesser sovereigns ride in escort. Some read the fourfold kingship as the four quarters and the four winds, the whole compass of the world gathered into his train; others simply take it as the sign of his eminence. However it is understood, the image sets the tone of any meeting with him: he arrives not as a solitary apparition but as a prince in state, and the seeker who calls him rightly is receiving a great personage and his court.
The gift for which Barbatos is best loved is the understanding of the voices of creatures. The grimoires say plainly that he gives the understanding of the singing of birds and of the voices of other creatures, even to the barking of dogs — that he opens to the practitioner the speech of the animal world, the meanings hidden in birdsong and in the cries and calls of beasts. This is one of the oldest and most cherished of magical hopes, the dream of understanding the tongues of the living world, and Barbatos is its great patron in the Goetia. To those who work with him for this gift he is said to grant not merely the noticing of animal sounds but a genuine understanding of them — a sense of what the birds are saying, of the meaning that runs beneath the surface of the natural world's ceaseless speech. He is, in this, the spirit of a listening deeper than words, a lord of the language that men lost and the beasts kept.
The old readers found in this gift an echo of something far older than the grimoires. To understand the speech of animals was, in the medieval imagination, to recover a fragment of the primal language — the tongue that Adam was said to have known in the garden, in which the first man named every living creature and understood them all before that understanding was lost. The speech of beasts belonged, in this reading, to the world before the Fall, to a lost harmony between humankind and the rest of creation; and a spirit who could give it back was a spirit who could return, in some small measure, to that vanished wholeness. This is an interpretation laid upon the plain grimoire text rather than a claim the old books themselves make, but it has clung to Barbatos for centuries, and it deepens his gift: the understanding of birds and beasts is not merely a curiosity but a reaching back toward a lost communion with the living world.
Among his named powers is a particular and unusual one: he breaks open the hidden treasures that have been sealed by the enchantments of magicians. This is not the mere finding of buried gold that several spirits are said to grant, but something more specific — the undoing of treasure that has been bound and concealed by magic, the breaking of the spell that keeps a hoard hidden. Where a magician has laid an enchantment upon a treasure to guard it, Barbatos is the spirit said to be able to break that enchantment open. Practitioners have long read this as a power over concealment itself: the opening of what has been magically shut, the revealing of what has been deliberately hidden by art. It marks him as a spirit of disclosure and of the breaking of bindings, one who can reach past the guardian-spell to the thing it guards.
The detail that most sets Barbatos apart is his origin. The grimoires say that he is of the Order of the Virtues, of which he retains some part still — that before his fall he belonged to one of the highest choirs of angels, and that even now, among the spirits of the Goetia, he keeps a portion of that former grace. The Virtues, in the old angelology, were the order concerned with grace, with miracles, and with the governance of the heavens and the natural world, and to be named of their number is to be marked as a spirit of unusual dignity and gentleness. This retained virtue colours everything about Barbatos. It is why he is remembered as gracious rather than fierce, why his gifts are of harmony and understanding rather than terror, and why so many who work with him describe him as one of the more benevolent of the Goetic spirits. He is a fallen thing that did not fall wholly — a bridge-figure who stands, in his very nature, between the angelic and the demonic, and who carries the memory of the higher order into the ranks of the lower.
Barbatos is also a spirit of time. The grimoires credit him with the knowledge of all things past and to come — a prophet among the spirits, keeper of the whole span of what has been and what will be. This gift of foresight and of memory sits naturally beside his retained angelic virtue, for the Virtues were an order close to the workings of providence, and it makes him a spirit to whom the seeker may turn for understanding of the shape of events: what has truly happened and lies hidden in the past, and what is coming and casts its shadow before it. As with all such gifts in the tradition, his telling is understood as insight and guidance rather than fixed and unalterable decree.
The last of his named offices is the mending of bonds. Barbatos conciliates friends and those that are in power — he reconciles estranged friends, heals broken friendships, and wins the favour and goodwill of the mighty. This is a gift of harmony fitting to a spirit of his gracious nature: where there is discord between friends, he is sought to restore accord; where the favour of a powerful person is needed, he is sought to incline them kindly. It rounds out his character as a lord of concord and understanding — one who opens the speech of beasts, who breaks what is shut, who knows the reach of time, and who draws the estranged back into friendship.
What gathers all of Barbatos's offices into one is harmony. The understanding of the voices of creatures, the retained grace of the angelic Virtues, the reconciling of friends and rulers — each is a form of accord, a mending of the distance between things that ought to be joined. He restores the broken communion between humankind and the animal world, keeps in himself the unbroken thread between the angelic and the fallen, and heals the breaches between people. To picture him rightly is to hold these together: the prince in Sagittarius with his four kings, the lord who speaks the language of birds, the fallen angel who kept his virtue, and the reconciler who draws the estranged back together. More than any single marvel, it is this spirit of harmony that practitioners come to value in him.
Within demonolatry and the modern left-hand path, Barbatos is honoured as one of the gentlest and most gracious of the Goetic spirits — a fallen angel who kept his virtue, approached with respect and warmth rather than dread. The reverent practitioner does not regard him as a slave to be coerced by threats, as the older exorcists' rites would have it, but as a noble and benevolent Duke to be met with courtesy and sincerity. He is widely held to be willing and kindly with those who come to him honestly, and especially close to those who love the natural world — to those who keep company with animals, who walk in wild places, and who seek to understand the speech of the living earth. To work with Barbatos in this spirit is to befriend a gracious lord of nature and harmony, and to be drawn, through him, toward a gentler and more listening relationship with the world.
The journey from the medieval and renaissance grimoires to the modern altar has changed how Barbatos is approached without much changing who he is said to be. The old rites framed every Goetic spirit as a danger to be bound within a triangle and compelled by divine names; the modern reverent practitioner, by contrast, comes to Barbatos as one comes to a gracious and noble teacher, with the seal, the Enn, and an honest wish. His gift of animal-speech is sought by those who love and work with animals, by students of nature-magic, and by all who wish to listen more truly to the living world. His prophecy is sought for understanding the shape of past and coming events; his reconciling power for the healing of friendships and the winning of favour; and his breaking of enchanted treasure for the opening of what has been hidden. The forms have softened; the spirit described is the same gracious Duke, of the Order of the Virtues, who has answered seekers for four centuries and more.
In contemporary demonolatry Barbatos is approached through his seal and his Enn — the chanted phrase Eveta fubin Barbatos — by which practitioners open the way to him and hold his presence near. He is called upon for the understanding of the voices of birds and beasts and for a deeper communion with the natural world, for knowledge of things past and to come, for the reconciling of estranged friends and the winning of favour from those in power, and for the opening of what has been hidden or magically sealed. Those who keep company with him describe a presence that is gracious, calm, and benevolent — a sense of gentle nobility, of a great and kindly personage attended by his court, of an attention that turns easily toward the natural world and its harmonies. He rewards courtesy, sincerity, and a genuine love of the living earth, and he is, by the long testimony of the tradition, generous and mild with those who come to him rightly.
What endures across every telling is the graciousness of him. Barbatos is the fallen angel who kept his virtue: a prince who comes in the season of the Archer with four kings in his train, a lord who opens the speech of birds and beasts, a breaker of what has been sealed, a knower of the whole span of time, and a mender of broken friendship. He is gentle where many spirits are fierce, harmonious where many are terrible, and close to the oldest and kindest of human longings — to understand the living world, to know the shape of things, and to be reconciled with what one has been parted from. He asks for courtesy, sincerity, and a true regard for nature and for others, and to those who bring them he is, by the steady witness of the grimoires and of those who work with him still, a great and gracious Duke: the angel who kept his grace, and the lord of the harmony between worlds.
The grimoires describe Barbatos as a great Duke who appears when the Sun is in Sagittarius, attended by four noble kings and their great companies of troops — a grand and princely procession rather than a solitary apparition. The older texts dwell less on his own shape than on his royal retinue and his high dignity, and later readers, following the Sagittarian timing, have often pictured him with the bearing of a hunter or an archer, at home in the wild. Those who work with him today most often describe not a fearsome form but a gracious and noble presence — a sense of gentle, kingly nobility attended by a great company, of a benevolent lord whose attention turns easily toward the natural world, and in whom something of a retained angelic grace can still be felt.
Enn: Eveta fubin Barbatos
Working with Barbatos is the befriending of a gracious and noble lord of nature — a fallen angel who kept his virtue, willing and kindly with those who come to him with courtesy and a genuine love of the living world. His gifts are among the gentlest of the whole Goetia: the understanding of the voices of birds and beasts, the knowledge of past and coming things, the reconciling of estranged friends, and the opening of what has been hidden. He comes as a prince in state, attended by four kings and their companies, and he answers warmth with warmth. What follows is a guide to that relationship: how to approach the Duke, how to ask rightly for his gifts of nature and harmony, and how to work with him honestly and to good purpose.
Come to Barbatos as you would come to a gracious and noble lord — with courtesy, sincerity, and a genuine regard for the natural world he presides over. He is not a spirit of terror to be guarded against but a benevolent Duke of the Order of the Virtues, and he answers best to those who meet him with warmth and respect rather than fear or command. Approach him neither grovelling nor presuming, and bring with you an honest wish and, where you can, a true love of the living earth, for he is especially close to those who care for animals and wild places. The relationship with him is built, like a friendship with a kindly noble, upon courtesy and sincerity, and what is begun in warmth he tends to meet in kind.
Prepare a clean and quiet place where you will not be disturbed, and prepare yourself with a calm and open mind. Many practitioners cleanse themselves and the space beforehand and set out his seal as the single focus of the working. Because his nature is bound up with the living world, some bring natural things into the working — a feather, green and growing things, an emblem of the animals or the wild — or perform the working out of doors, in a garden or a wild place where the voices of birds may be heard. Settle your breathing and your mind before you begin, and bring with you a clear sense of what you seek: the understanding of a creature's voice, a communion with nature, knowledge of a past or coming thing, the reconciling of a friendship, or the opening of what is hidden.
Open the way to Barbatos by setting your attention upon his seal and reciting his Enn — Eveta fubin Barbatos — slowly and steadily, letting the chanted words carry your intent and call his presence near. Repeat the Enn until you feel the air of the working change: a gathering of calm and gracious presence, a sense of a noble personage drawing near with a great and quiet company. By the oldest instruction his season is that of Sagittarius, and some practitioners choose to work with him then, when the Sun is in the Archer; but the reverent working is not bound to it, and he answers the sincere seeker in any season. Do not rush the opening; let his gentle, kingly presence gather and settle before you ask anything of him.
The gift most sought from Barbatos is the understanding of the voices of creatures, and to seek it, tell him plainly that you wish to understand the speech of birds and beasts and to listen more truly to the living world. Ask not merely to notice the sounds animals make but to understand them — to sense the meaning that runs beneath birdsong and the cries of beasts. This is a gift best received by one who already gives the natural world their attention, and so the working is well joined to real practice: spend time among animals and birds, listen closely and patiently, and bring what you hear back to him. Ask for the opening of your understanding, and then attend — for his gift comes as a growing sense of meaning in what you had heard only as noise, and it deepens for those who keep listening.
Beyond the literal understanding of animal voices, Barbatos is a fitting spirit to approach for a deeper communion with nature as a whole. To seek this, come to him as a lover of the living world seeking to be drawn closer to it, and ask his help in listening to and understanding the harmonies of the earth — the life of a place, the moods of the wild, the web of meaning in the natural world around you. Work, where you can, in the presence of nature itself, and let the relationship with him become a doorway into a gentler and more attentive way of being among living things. This is among the truest of the works to undertake with him, for it is the very heart of his gracious, harmonising nature.
Barbatos knows all things past and to come, and to seek this knowledge, frame a clear and honest question about a hidden matter of the past or the shape of a coming thing, and ask him for his understanding of it. Ask without a wished-for answer already fixed in mind, and attend carefully to what comes — an image, a word, a sudden clarity, a turn of attention toward something overlooked. Treat what he shows as insight and guidance to inform your own wise action rather than as fixed and unalterable decree, and act upon it with the same honesty with which you asked. As with all his work, ask only what you have real cause to ask.
For the mending of bonds, name plainly the estranged friendship you would heal or the powerful person whose favour you seek, and ask Barbatos for his aid in restoring accord. His is a gift of harmony, and it is best sought in the spirit of genuine reconciliation rather than manipulation — ask that a broken friendship be truly mended, that goodwill be restored, that the favour you seek be freely and rightly given. Then do your own part in the mending: reach out, make amends where amends are due, and meet the other with the same goodwill you have asked him to kindle. He assists a reconciliation the seeker is genuinely willing to live out.
Barbatos breaks open the treasures that magicians have sealed by enchantment, and more broadly he is a spirit of the opening of what has been hidden. Where something has been deliberately concealed — a hidden truth, a sealed matter, a thing shut away by art or intent — you may ask him to break the concealment open and bring what is hidden to light. Frame the matter plainly and honestly, seek disclosure for good and rightful cause, and treat what is revealed with discretion and respect. As with all his gifts, ask only what you have true reason to ask, and use what is opened to you rightly.
Practitioners describe the signs of Barbatos's presence and favour in gentle and gracious terms fitting to his nature. There may be a gathering sense of calm and noble presence, a feeling of a kindly personage near at hand, an ease and warmth in the working rather than any dread. Many report, fittingly, a sudden and heightened awareness of the natural world in the days that follow — a noticing of birds and their song, an odd sense of meaning in the sounds of animals, a feeling of being met by the living world. In matters of reconciliation there may be an unexpected softening, a mended word, a turn toward accord; in questions of past and future, a clarity that settles over a matter. Keep a written record of what comes during and after the working, for his gifts, like the understanding of a language, unfold and deepen over time.
Work with Barbatos honestly, courteously, and with a true regard for the world he presides over. Meet him as the gracious noble he is, without fear but also without presumption. Honour the natural world in your dealings with him: it ill befits a seeker of the speech of beasts to be careless or cruel toward animals, and the gift is best kept by one who treats the living world with the respect his patronage implies. Seek his reconciling power in the spirit of genuine accord rather than manipulation, his prophecy as guidance rather than idle curiosity, and his opening of hidden things for rightful cause and with discretion. Come to him in good faith and sincere warmth — for he is a great and gracious Duke who answers courtesy with kindness and a genuine love of nature with generosity, and idle or ungracious use with silence.