it is to be sent after me to Naples. The agates are of the greatest
beauty; especially such as are variegated with irregular pieces of
yellow or red jasper, and with white, and as it were frozen quartz,
which produce the most beautiful effect.
A very accurate imitation of these agates, produced by lake colouring
on the back of thin plates of glass, is the only rational thing that I
observed the other day among the Pallagonian follies. Such imitations
are far better for decorations than the real agate, since the latter
are only found in very small pieces, whereas the size of the former
depends on nothing but the size of the artist's plate. This contrivance
of art well deserves to be imitated.
* * * * *
_Palermo, April_ 13, 1787.
Italy without Sicily leaves no image on the soul: here is the key to
all.
Of the climate, it is impossible to say enough. It is now rainy
weather, but not uninterruptedly wet: yesterday it thundered and
lightened, and to day all is intensely green. The flax has in places
already put forth joints--in others it is boiling. Looking down from
the hills, one fancies one sees in the plain below little ponds; so
beautifully blue-green are the flax fields here and there. Living
objects without number surround you. And my companion is an excellent
fellow, the true _Hoffegut_ (Hopeful) and I honestly sustain the part
of the _True friend._ He has already made some beautiful sketches, and
will take still more before we go. What a prospect--to return home some
day, happy, and with all these treasures!
Of the meat and drink here, in the country, I have said nothing as yet;
however, it is by no means an indifferent matter. The garden stuffs are
excellent, especially the lettuce; which is particularly tender, with
a milky taste: it makes one understand at once why the ancients termed
it _lactuca._ The oil and wine of all kinds very good; and it might be
still better if more care were bestowed on its preparation:--Fish of
the very best and tenderest. We have had, too, very good beef, though
generally people do not praise it.
Now, after dinner, to the window!--to the streets! A malefactor has
just been pardoned--an event which takes place every year in honour of
the festival of Easter. The brethren of some order or other led him to
the foot of a gallows, which had been erected for sake of the ceremony:
then the criminal at the foot of the ladder offers up a prayer or
two; and having kissed the scaffold, is led away again. He was a
good-looking fellow of the middle age, in a white coat, white hat, and
all else white. He carried his hat in his hand; at different points
they attached variegated ribbons to him, so that at last he was quite
in tune to go to any masquerade in the character of a shepherd.
* * * * *
_Palermo, April_ 13 _and_ 14, 1787.
So then, before my departure, I was to meet with a strange adventure,
of which I must forthwith give you a circumstantial account.
[Sidenote: Sicily--Palermo.]
The whole time of my residence here, I have heard scarcely any topic
of conversation at the ordinary, but Cagliostro, his origin and
adventures. The people of Palermo are all unanimous in asserting that
a certain Joseph Balsamo was born in their city, and having rendered
himself infamous by many disgraceful acts, was banished. But whether
this person is identical with the Count Cagliostro, was a point on
which opinions were divided. Some who knew Balsamo personally asserted
they recognized his features in the engraving, which is well known in
Germany, and which has also travelled as far as Palermo.
In one of these conversations, one of the guests referred to the
trouble which a Palermitan lawyer had taken in examining this matter.
He seems to have been commissioned by the French Ministry to trace the
origin of an individual, who, in the face of France, and, indeed, of
the whole world, had had the temerity to utter the silliest of idle
tales in the midst of a legal process which involved the most important
interests and the reputation of the highest personages.
This lawyer, it was asserted, had prepared the pedigree of Giuseppe
Balsamo, together with an explanatory memoir and documentary proofs. It
has been forwarded to France, where in all probability public use will
be made of it.
As I expressed a wish to form the acquaintance of this lawyer, of whom
besides people spoke very highly, the person who had recounted these
facts offered to mention me to him and to introduce me.
After a few days we paid him a visit, and found him busily engaged with
his clients. When he had dismissed them and we had taken a luncheon,
he produced a manuscript which contained a transcript of Cagliostro's
pedigree, and the rough draught of the memoir which had been sent to
France.
He laid the genealogy before me, and gave me the necessary
explanations, of which I shall here give you as much as is necessary to
facilitate the understanding of the whole business.
Giuseppe Balsamo's great-grandfather on his mother's side was Matteo
Martello. The maiden name of his great-grand-mother is unknown. The
issue of this marriage was two daughters; Maria, who married Giuseppe
Bracconerie, and the grandmother of Giuseppe Balsamo--and Vincenza,
married to Giuseppe Cagliostro, who was born in a little village called
La Noava, about eight miles from Messina. (I must note here that there
are at this moment living at Messina two bellfounders of this name.)
This great aunt was subsequently godmother of Giuseppe Balsamo, who was
named after his great uncle, and at last in foreign countries assumed
also the surname of this relation.
The Bracconerie had three children,--Felicitá, Mattéo, and Antonia.
Felicitá was married to Piedro Balsamo, who was the son of Antonia
Balsamo, ribbon dealer in Palermo, and probably of Jewish descent.
Piedro Balsamo, the father of the notorious Giuseppe, became bankrupt,
and died in his five-and-fortieth year. His widow, who is still living,
had born him, besides the above-named Giuseppe Giovanna--Giuseppe
Maria, who married Giovanna Battista Capitummino, who begot three
children of her body, and died.
The memoir, which was read to us by its obliging author, and was at
my request lent to me for a few days, was founded on baptismal and
marriage certificates and other instruments which he had with great
diligence collected. It contains pretty nearly (as I conclude from a
comparison with a summary which I then made) all the circumstances
which have lately been made better known to the world by the acts of
the legal process at Borne, viz., that Giuseppe Balsamo was born at
Palermo, in the beginning of June, 1743, and that at his baptism he
was received back from the priest's arms by Vincenza Cagliostro (whose
maiden name was Martello); that in his youth he took the habit of an
order of the Brothers of Mercy, which paid particular attention to
the sick; that he soon showed great talent and skill for medicine,
but that for his disorderly practices he was expelled the order, and
thereupon set up in Palermo as a dealer in magic, and treasure finder.
[Sidenote: Palermo--Count Cagliostro.]
His great dexterity in imitating every kind of handwriting was not
allowed by him to lie idle. He falsified or rather forged altogether
an ancient document, by which the possession of some lands was brought
into litigation. He was soon an object of suspicion, and cast into
prison; but made his escape, and was cited to appear under penalty of
outlawry. He passed through Calabria towards Rome, where he married the
daughter of a belt-maker. From Rome he came back to Naples, under the
name of the Marchese Pellegrini. He even ventured to pay a visit to
Palermo, was recognized, and taken prisoner, and made his escape in a
manner that well deserves being circumstantially detailed.
One of the principal nobles of Sicily, who possessed very large
property, and held several important posts at the Neapolitan court,
had a son, who to a frame of unusual strength and an uncontrollable
temper united all the wanton excesses which the rich and great, without
education, can think themselves privileged to indulge in.
Donna Lorenza had managed to attract him, and on him the pretended
Marchese Pellegrini relied for impunity. The Prince avowed openly
his patronage of this couple of new comers, and set no bounds to his
rage when Giuseppe Balsamo, at the instance of the party whom he had
injured, was a second time cast into prison. He had recourse to various
means to obtain his liberation; and, when these were unsuccessful, in
the very ante-room of the President's court, he threatened the advocate
of the opposite party with the most dreadful consequences if he did not
consent to the release of Balsamo. As the opposing advocate refused his
consent, he rushed upon him, struck him, knocked him down and kicked
him, and was only with difficulty restrained from further violence when
the judge, hearing the noise, rushed in and commanded peace.
The latter, a weak and cringing character, had not the courage to
punish the wrong-doer; the opposite party, advocate and all, were men
of little minds; and so Balsamo was set at liberty, without, however,
any record of his liberation being found among the proceedings--neither
by whose orders or in what manner it was effected.
Shortly after this he left Palermo, and traveled in different
countries; of which travels, however, the author of the memoir had been
only able to collect very imperfect information.
The memoir ended with an acute argument to prove the identity of
Balsamo and Cagliostro,--a position which was at this time more
difficult to prove than at present, now that the whole history of this
individual has been made public.
Had I not been led to form a conjecture that a public use would have
been made in France of this essay, and that on my return I should find
it already in print, I doubt not but I should have been permitted to
take a transcript of it, and to give my friends and the public an early
account of many interesting circumstances.
However, we have received the fullest account, (and even more
particulars than this memoir contains,) from a quarter which usually
is the source of nothing but errors. Who would have believed that Rome
would ever have done so much for the enlightening of the world, and for
the utter exposure of an impostor, as she has done by publishing the
summary of the proceedings in this case? For although this work ought
and might be much more interesting, it is nevertheless an excellent
document in the hands of every rational mind, who cannot but feel deep
regret to see the deceived, and those who were not more deceived than
deceivers, going on for years admiring this man and his mummeries;
feeling themselves by fellowship with him raised above the common mass,
and from the heights of their credulous vanity pitying if not despising
the sound common sense of mankind in general.
Who was not willingly silent all the while? And even now, at last, when
the whole affair is ended and placed beyond dispute, it is only with
difficulty that I can bring myself, in order to complete the official
account, to communicate some particulars which have here become known
to me.
When I found in the genealogy so many persons (especially his mother
and sisters) mentioned as still living, I expressed to the author of
the memoir a wish to see them, and to form the acquaintance of the
other relatives of so notorious an individual. He remarked that it
would be difficult to bring it about, since these persons, poor but
respectable, and living very retired, were not accustomed to receive
visitors, and that their natural suspicion would be roused by any
attempt of the kind. However, he was ready to send to me his copying
clerk, who had access to the family, and by whose means he had procured
the information and documents out of which the pedigree had been
compiled.
[Sidenote: Palermo--Count Cagliostro.]
The next day his amanuensis made his appearance, and expressed several
scruples upon the matter. "I have, hitherto," he said, "carefully
avoided coming within sight of these persons. For, in order to get into
my hands the certificates of baptism and marriage, so as to be able
to take legally authenticated copies of them, I was obliged to have
recourse to a little trick. I took occasion to speak of some little
family property that was somehow or other unclaimed; made it appear
probable to them that the young Capitummino was entitled to it; but I
told them that first of all it was necessary to make out a pedigree,
in order to see how far the youth could establish his claim: that,
however, his success must eventually depend upon law proceedings, which
I would willingly undertake on condition of receiving for my trouble
a fair proportion of the amount recovered. The good people readily
assented to everything. I got possession of the papers I wanted, took
copies of them, and finished the pedigree; since then, however, I have
cautiously kept out of their sight. A few weeks ago old Capitummino met
me, and it was only by pleading the tardiness with which such matters
usually proceed that I managed to excuse myself."
Thus spoke the copyist. As, however, I stuck to my purpose, after some
consideration he consented to take me to their house, and suggested
that it would be best for me to give myself out to be an Englishman,
who had brought to the family tidings of Cagliostro, who, immediately
after his release from the Bastille, had proceeded to London.
At the appointed hour--about two o'clock in the afternoon--we set out
on our expedition. The house was situated in the corner of a narrow
lane, not far from the great street, "Il Casaro." We ascended a few
wretched steps, and entered at once upon the kitchen. A woman of the
middle size, strong and broad, without being fat, was busy washing
up the cooking utensils. She was neatly and cleanly clad, and as we
entered, turned up the corner of her apron, in order to conceal from us
its dirty front. She seemed glad to see my guide, and exclaimed, "Do
you bring us good news, Signor Giovanni? Have you obtained a decree?"
He replied, "No! I have not as yet been able to do anything in our
matter. However, here is a foreigner who brings you a greeting from
your brother, and who can give you an account of his present state and
abode."
The greeting that I was to bring did not exactly stand in our bond.
However, the introduction was now made. "You know my brother?" she
asked me. "All Europe knows him," I replied, "and I am sure you will
be glad to hear that he is at present safe and well; for assuredly you
must have been in great anxiety about him." "Walk in," she said, "I
will follow you immediately;" and so, with the copying-clerk, I entered
the sitting-room.
It was spacious and lofty, and would pass with us for a saloon. It
seemed, however, to form the whole dwelling of the family. A single
window lighted the large walls, which were once coloured, and around
which figures of the Saints--taken in black--hung in gilt frames. Two
large beds, without curtains, stood against one wall, while a brown
press, which had the shape of an escritoire, was placed against the
opposite one. Old chairs, with rush bottoms, the backs of which seemed
once to have been gilded, stood on each side of it; while the bricks
of the floors were in many places sunk deep below the level. In other
respects, everything was clean and tidy, and we made our way towards
the family, who were gathered around the only large window at the other
end of the room.
While my guide was explaining to the old widow Balsamo, who sat in the
corner, the cause of our visit, and in consequence of the deafness of
the good old woman, had frequently to repeat his words, I had time
to observe the room and the rest of its occupants. A young girl, of
about sixteen years of age, well grown, whose features, however, the
small-pox had robbed of all expression, was standing at the window; by
her side a young man, whose unpleasant countenance, sadly disfigured by
the small-pox, also struck me. In an arm-chair, opposite the window,
sat, or rather reclined, a sick and sadly deformed person, who seemed
to be afflicted with a sort of torpor.
When my guide had made himself understood, they compelled us to sit
down. The old woman put some questions to me, which I required to have
interpreted before I could answer them, as I was not very familiar with
the Sicilian dialect.
[Sidenote: Palermo--Count Cagliostro.]
I was pleased with the examination, which, during this conversation, I
made of the old woman. She was of middle size, but of a good figure;
over her regular features an expression of calmness was diffused, which
people usually enjoy who are deprived of hearing; the tone of her voice
was soft and agreeable.
I answered her questions, and my answers had, in their turn, to be
interpreted to her.
The slowness of such a dialogue gave me an opportunity of weighing my
words. I told her that her son having been acquitted in France, was at
present in London, where he had been well received. The joy which she
expressed at this news was accompanied with exclamations of a heartfelt
piety, and now, as she spoke louder and slower I could understand her
better.
In the meanwhile her daughter had come in, and had seated herself by
the side of my guide, who faithfully repeated to her what I had been
saying. She had tied on a clean apron, and arranged her hair under a
net. The more I looked at her, and compared her with her mother, the
more surprised was I at the difference of their persons. A lively,
healthy sensibility spoke in every feature of the daughter; she was,
in all probability, about forty years old. With lovely blue eyes, she
looked cautiously around, without, however, my being able to trace the
least symptom of suspicion. As she sat, her figure seemed to promise
greater height than it showed when she stood up; her posture bespoke
determination; she sat with her body bent forwards, and her hands
resting on her knees. Moreover, her full, rather than sharp profile,
reminded me of the portraits of her brother, which I had seen in
engravings. She asked me several questions about my travels: about my
purpose in visiting Sicily, and would persuade herself that I should
most assuredly come back again, and keep with them the Festival of S.
Rosalie.
The grandmother having, in the mean time, put some questions to me,
while I was busied in answering them, the daughter was speaking in a
half whisper to my guide; so that my curiosity was stimulated to ask
what they were talking about. Upon this he said, Donna Capitummino was
just telling him that her brother owed her fourteen once. In order
to facilitate his rapid departure from Palermo, she had redeemed some
of his things which were in pawn; but since then she had not heard a
word from him, nor received any money, nor help of any kind, although,
as she had heard, he possessed great wealth, and kept a princely
establishment. Would I not engage on my return, at the first favourable
moment to remind him of this debt, and to get him to make them an
allowance--nay, would I not take a letter to him, or at least frank one
to him? I offered to do so. She asked me where I lived? and where she
could send me the letter. I avoided giving her my address, and engaged
to call myself for the letter on the evening of the next day.
She then recounted to me her pitiable situation: she was a widow, with
three children: one girl was being educated in a nunnery, the other
was here at home; and her son was gone to school. Besides these three
children she had her mother on her hands, for whose support she must
provide, and besides all this, out of Christian love she had taken
into her house the unfortunate sick person-and thus augmented her
miseries--all her industry scarcely sufficed to furnish herself and
children with the very barest necessaries. She well knew that God would
reward all such good works; still she could not help sighing beneath
the heavy burthen she had so long borne.
The young people joined in the conversation, and the dialogue became
livelier. While I was speaking to the others I heard the old woman
ask her daughter if I belonged to their holy religion. I was able to
observe that the daughter skilfully parried the question by assuring
her mother (as well as I could make out her words) that the stranger
appeared well disposed towards them; and that it was not proper to
question any one all at once on this point.
When they heard that I was soon to depart from Palermo, they became
still more urgent, and entreated me to come back again at all events;
especially they praised the heavenly day of S. Rosalie's festival, the
like of which was not to be seen or enjoyed in the world.
My guide, who for a long while had been wishing to get away, at last
by his signs put an end to our talk, and I promised to come on the
evening of the next day, and fetch the letter. My guide expressed
his satisfaction that all had gone off so well, and we parted, well
satisfied with each other.
You may imagine what impression this poor, pious, and well-disposed
family made upon me. My curiosity was satisfied; but their natural
and pleasing behaviour had excited my sympathy, and reflection only
confirmed my good will in their favour.
[Sidenote: Palermo--Count Cagliostro.]
But then some anxiety soon arose in my mind about to-morrow. It was
only natural that my visit, which at first had so charmed them,
would, after my departure, be talked and thought over by them. From
the pedigree I was aware that others of the family were still living.
Nothing could be more natural than that they should call in their
friends to consult them on all that they had been so astonished to
hear from me the day before. I had gained my object, and now it only
remained for me to contrive to bring this adventure to a favourable
issue. I therefore, set off the next day, and arrived at their house
just after their dinner. They were surprised to see me so early. The
letter, they told me, was not yet ready; and some of their relatives
wished to make my acquaintance, and they would be there towards evening.
I replied that I was to depart early in the morning; that I had yet
some visits to make, and had also to pack up, and that I had determined
to come earlier than I had promised rather than not come at all.
During this conversation the son entered, whom I had not seen the
day before. In form and countenance he resembled his sister. He had
brought with him the letter which I was to take. As usual in these
parts, it had been written by one of the public notaries. The youth
who was of a quiet, sad, and modest disposition, inquired about his
uncle, asked about his riches and expenditure, and added, "How could he
forget his family so long? It would be the greatest happiness to us,"
he continued, "if he would only come back and help us but he further
asked, "How came he to tell you that he had relations in Palermo? It
is said that he everywhere disowns us, and gives himself out to be of
high birth." These questions, which my guide's want of foresight on our
first visit had given rise to, I contrived to satisfy, by making it
appear possible that, although his uncle might have many reasons for
concealing his origin from the public, he would, nevertheless make no
secret of it to his friends and familiar acquaintances.
His sister, who had stepped forward during this conversation, and who
had taken courage from the presence of her brother, and probably, also,
from the absence of yesterday's friend, began now to speak. Her manner
was very pretty and lively. She earnestly begged me, when I wrote to
her uncle, to commend her to him; and not less earnestly, also, to come
back when I had finished my tour through the kingdom of Sicily, and to
attend with them the festivities of S. Rosalie.
The mother joined her voice to that of her children. "Signor," she
exclaimed, "although it does not in propriety become me, who have a
grown-up daughter, to invite strange men to my house,--and one ought
to guard not only against the danger itself, but even against evil
tongues,--still you, I can assure you, will be heartily welcome,
whenever you return to our city."