husband, of the woman Aluys, with whom Delisle became acquainted at the
commencement of his career, in the cabaret by the road-side, and whom he
afterwards married. Delisle performed the part of a father towards him,
and thought he could shew no stronger proof of his regard, than by giving
him the necessary instructions to carry on the deception which had raised
himself to such a pitch of greatness. The young Aluys was an apt scholar,
and soon mastered all the jargon of the alchymists. He discoursed
learnedly upon projections, cimentations, sublimations, the elixir of
life, and the universal alkahest; and on the death of Delisle gave out
that the secret of that great adept had been communicated to him, and to
him only. His mother aided in the fraud, with the hope they might both
fasten themselves, in the true alchymical fashion, upon some rich dupe,
who would entertain them magnificently while the operation was in
progress. The fate of Delisle was no inducement for them to stop in
France. The Provençals, it is true, entertained as high an opinion as ever
of his skill, and were well inclined to believe the tales of the young
adept on whom his mantle had fallen; but the dungeons of the Bastille were
yawning for their prey, and Aluys and his mother decamped with all
convenient expedition. They travelled about the Continent for several
years, sponging upon credulous rich men, and now and then performing
successful transmutations by the aid of double-bottomed crucibles and the
like. In the year 1726, Aluys, without his mother, who appears to have
died in the interval, was at Vienna, where he introduced himself to the
Duke de Richelieu, at that time ambassador from the court of France. He
completely deceived this nobleman; he turned lead into gold (apparently)
on several occasions, and even made the ambassador himself turn an iron
nail into a silver one. The duke afterwards boasted to Lenglet du Fresnoy
of his achievements as an alchymist, and regretted that he had not been
able to discover the secret of the precious powder by which he performed
them.
Aluys soon found that, although he might make a dupe of the Duke de
Richelieu, he could not get any money from him. On the contrary, the duke
expected all his pokers and fire-shovels to be made silver, and all his
pewter utensils gold; and thought the honour of his acquaintance was
reward sufficient for a _roturier_, who could not want wealth since he
possessed so invaluable a secret. Aluys, seeing that so much was expected
of him, bade adieu to his excellency, and proceeded to Bohemia accompanied
by a pupil, and by a young girl who had fallen in love with him in Vienna.
Some noblemen in Bohemia received him kindly, and entertained him at their
houses for months at a time. It was his usual practice to pretend that he
possessed only a few grains of his powder, with which he would operate in
any house where he intended to fix his quarters for the season. He would
make the proprietor the present of a piece of gold thus transmuted, and
promise him millions, if he could only be provided with leisure to gather
his _lunaria major_ and _minor_ on their mountain-tops, and board,
lodging, and loose cash for himself, his wife, and his pupil, in the
interval.
He exhausted in this manner the patience of some dozen of people, when,
thinking that there was less danger for him in France under the young king
Louis XV. than under his old and morose predecessor, he returned to
Provence. On his arrival at Aix, he presented himself before M. le Bret,
the president of the province, a gentleman who was much attached to the
pursuits of alchymy, and had great hopes of being himself able to find the
philosopher's stone. M. le Bret, contrary to his expectation, received him
very coolly, in consequence of some rumours that were spread abroad
respecting him; and told him to call upon him on the morrow. Aluys did not
like the tone of the voice, or the expression of the eye of the learned
president, as that functionary looked down upon him. Suspecting that all
was not right, he left Aix secretly the same evening, and proceeded to
Marseilles. But the police were on the watch for him; and he had not been
there four-and-twenty hours, before he was arrested on a charge of
coining, and thrown into prison.
As the proofs against him were too convincing to leave him much hope of an
acquittal, he planned an escape from durance. It so happened that the
gaoler had a pretty daughter, and Aluys soon discovered that she was
tender-hearted. He endeavoured to gain her in his favour, and succeeded.
The damsel, unaware that he was a married man, conceived and encouraged a
passion for him, and generously provided him with the means of escape.
After he had been nearly a year in prison he succeeded in getting free,
leaving the poor girl behind to learn that he was already married, and to
lament in solitude that she had given her heart to an ungrateful vagabond.
When he left Marseilles, he had not a shoe to his foot or a decent garment
to his back, but was provided with some money and clothes by his wife in a
neighbouring town. They then found their way to Brussels, and by dint of
excessive impudence, brought themselves into notice. He took a house,
fitted up a splendid laboratory, and gave out that he knew the secret of
transmutation. In vain did M. Percel, the brother-in-law of Lenglet du
Fresnoy, who resided in that city, expose his pretensions, and hold him up
to contempt as an ignorant impostor: the world believed him not. They took
the alchymist at his word, and besieged his doors to see and wonder at the
clever legerdemain by which he turned iron nails into gold and silver. A
rich _greffier_ paid him a large sum of money that he might be instructed
in the art, and Aluys gave him several lessons on the most common
principles of chemistry. The greffier studied hard for a twelvemonth, and
then discovered that his master was a quack. He demanded his money back
again; but Aluys was not inclined to give it him, and the affair was
brought before the civil tribunal of the province. In the mean time,
however, the greffier died suddenly; poisoned, according to the popular
rumour, by his debtor, to avoid repayment. So great an outcry arose in the
city, that Aluys, who may have been innocent of the crime, was
nevertheless afraid to remain and brave it. He withdrew secretly in the
night, and retired to Paris. Here all trace of him is lost. He was never
heard of again; but Lenglet du Fresnoy conjectures that he ended his days
in some obscure dungeon, into which he was cast for coining or other
malpractices.
THE COUNT DE ST. GERMAIN.
This adventurer was of a higher grade than the last, and played a
distinguished part at the court of Louis XV. He pretended to have
discovered the elixir of life, by means of which he could make any one
live for centuries; and allowed it to believed that his own age was
upwards of two thousand years. He entertained many of the opinions of the
Rosicrucians; boasted of his intercourse with sylphs and salamanders; and
of his power of drawing diamonds from the earth, and pearls from the sea,
by the force of his incantations. He did not lay claim to the merit of
having discovered the philosopher's stone; but devoted so much of his time
to the operations of alchymy, that it was very generally believed, that if
such a thing as the philosopher's stone had ever existed, or could be
called into existence, he was the man to succeed in finding it.
It has never yet been discovered what was his real name, or in what
country he was born. Some believed, from the Jewish cast of his handsome
countenance, that he was the "wandering Jew;" others asserted that he was
the issue of an Arabian princess, and that his father was a salamander;
while others, more reasonable, affirmed him to be the son of a Portuguese
Jew established at Bourdeaux. He first carried on his imposture in
Germany, where he made considerable sums by selling an elixir to arrest
the progress of old age. The Maréchal de Belle-Isle purchased a dose of
it; and was so captivated with the wit, learning, and good manners of the
charlatan, and so convinced of the justice of his most preposterous
pretensions, that he induced him to fix his residence in Paris. Under the
marshal's patronage, he first appeared in the gay circles of that capital.
Every one was delighted with the mysterious stranger; who, at this period
of his life, appears to have been about seventy years of age, but did not
look more than forty-five. His easy assurance imposed upon most people.
His reading was extensive, and his memory extraordinarily tenacious of the
slightest circumstances. His pretension to have lived for so many
centuries naturally exposed him to some puzzling questions, as to the
appearance, life, and conversation of the great men of former days; but he
was never at a loss for an answer. Many who questioned him for the purpose
of scoffing at him, refrained in perplexity, quite bewildered by his
presence of mind, his ready replies, and his astonishing accuracy on every
point mentioned in history. To increase the mystery by which he was
surrounded, he permitted no person to know how he lived. He dressed in a
style of the greatest magnificence; sported valuable diamonds in his hat,
on his fingers, and in his shoe-buckles; and sometimes made the most
costly presents to the ladies of the court. It was suspected by many that
he was a spy, in the pay of the English ministry; but there never was a
tittle of evidence to support the charge. The king looked upon him with
marked favour, was often closeted with him for hours together, and would
not suffer any body to speak disparagingly of him. Voltaire constantly
turned him into ridicule; and, in one of his letters to the King of
Prussia, mentions him as "un comte pour rire;" and states that he
pretended to have dined with the holy fathers at the Council of Trent!
In the _Memoirs of Madame du Hausset_, chamber-woman to Madame du
Pompadour, there are some amusing anecdotes of this personage. Very soon
after his arrival in Paris, he had the _entrée_ of her dressing-room; a
favour only granted to the most powerful lords at the court of her royal
lover. Madame was fond of conversing with him; and, in her presence, he
thought fit to lower his pretensions very considerably; but he often
allowed her to believe that he had lived two or three hundred years at
least. "One day," says Madame du Hausset, "madame said to him, in my
presence, 'What was the personal appearance of Francis I.? He was a king I
should have liked.' 'He was, indeed, very captivating,' replied St.
Germain; and he proceeded to describe his face and person, as that of a
man whom he had accurately observed. 'It is a pity he was too ardent. I
could have given him some good advice, which would have saved him from all
his misfortunes: but he would not have followed it; for it seems as if a
fatality attended princes, forcing them to shut their ears to the wisest
counsel.' 'Was his court very brilliant?' inquired Madame du Pompadour.
'Very,' replied the count; 'but those of his grandsons surpassed it. In
the time of Mary Stuart and Margaret of Valois, it was a land of
enchantment--a temple sacred to pleasures of every kind.' Madame said,
laughing, 'You seem to have seen all this.' 'I have an excellent memory,'
said he, 'and have read the history of France with great care. I sometimes
amuse myself, not by making, but by letting, it be believed that I lived
in old times.'
"'But you do not tell us your age,' said Madame du Pompadour to him on
another occasion; 'and yet you pretend you are very old. The Countess de
Gergy, who was, I believe, ambassadress at Vienna some fifty years ago,
says she saw you there, exactly the same as you now appear.'
"'It is true, madame,' replied St. Germain; 'I knew Madame de Gergy many
years ago.'
"'But, according to her account, you must be more than a hundred years
old?'
"'That is not impossible,' said he, laughing; 'but it is much more
possible that the good lady is in her dotage.'
"'You gave her an elixir, surprising for the effects it produced; for she
says, that during a length of time, she only appeared to be eighty-four;
the age at which she took it. Why don't you give it to the king?'
"'Oh, madam,' he exclaimed, 'the physicians would have me broken on the
wheel, were I to think of drugging his majesty.'"
When the world begins to believe extraordinary things of an individual,
there is no telling where its extravagance will stop. People, when once
they have taken the start, vie with each other who shall believe most. At
this period all Paris resounded with the wonderful adventures of the Count
de St. Germain; and a company of waggish young men tried the following
experiment upon its credulity: A clever mimic, who, on account of the
amusement he afforded, was admitted into good society, was taken by them,
dressed as the Count de St. Germain, into several houses in the Rue du
Marais. He imitated the count's peculiarities admirably, and found his
auditors open-mouthed to believe any absurdity he chose to utter. No
fiction was too monstrous for their all-devouring credulity. He spoke of
the Saviour of the world in terms of the greatest familiarity; said he had
supped with him at the marriage in Canaan of Galilee, where the water was
miraculously turned into wine. In fact, he said he was an intimate friend
of his, and had often warned him to be less romantic and imprudent, or he
would finish his career miserably. This infamous blasphemy, strange to
say, found believers; and ere three days had elapsed, it was currently
reported that St. Germain was born soon after the deluge, and that he
would never die!
St. Germain himself was too much a man of the world to assert any thing so
monstrous; but he took no pains to contradict the story. In all his
conversations with persons of rank and education, he advanced his claims
modestly, and as if by mere inadvertency, and seldom pretended to a
longevity beyond three hundred years, except when he found he was in
company with persons who would believe any thing. He often spoke of Henry
VIII. as if he had known him intimately, and of the Emperor Charles V. as
if that monarch had delighted in his society. He would describe
conversations which took place with such an apparent truthfulness, and be
so exceedingly minute and particular as to the dress and appearance of the
individuals, and even the weather at the time and the furniture of the
room, that three persons out of four were generally inclined to credit
him. He had constant applications from rich old women for an elixir to
make them young again, and it would appear gained large sums in this
manner. To those whom he was pleased to call his friends he said his mode
of living and plan of diet were far superior to any elixir, and that any
body might attain a patriarchal age by refraining from drinking at meals,
and very sparingly at any other time. The Baron de Gleichen followed this
system, and took great quantities of senna leaves, expecting to live for
two hundred years. He died, however, at seventy-three. The Duchess de
Choiseul was desirous of following the same system, but the duke her
husband in much wrath forbade her to follow any system prescribed by a man
who had so equivocal a reputation as M. de St. Germain.
Madame du Hausset says she saw St. Germain and conversed with him several
times. He appeared to her to be about fifty years of age, was of the
middle size, and had fine expressive features. His dress was always
simple, but displayed much taste. He usually wore diamond rings of great
value, and his watch and snuff-box were ornamented with a profusion of
precious stones. One day, at Madame du Pompadour's apartments, where the
principal courtiers were assembled, St. Germain made his appearance in
diamond knee and shoe buckles of so fine a water, that madame said she did
not think the king had any equal to them. He was entreated to pass into
the antechamber and undo them, which he did, and brought them to madame
for closer inspection. M. de Gontant, who was present, said their value
could not be less than two hundred thousand livres, or upwards of eight
thousand pounds sterling. The Baron de Gleichen, in his _Memoirs_, relates
that the count one day shewed him so many diamonds, that he thought he saw
before him all the treasures of Aladdin's lamp; and adds, that he had had
great experience in precious stones, and was convinced that all those
possessed by the count were genuine. On another occasion St. Germain
shewed Madame du Pompadour a small box, containing topazes, emeralds, and
diamonds worth half a million of livres. He affected to despise all this
wealth, to make the world more easily believe that he could, like the
Rosicrucians, draw precious stones out of the earth by the magic of his
song. He gave away a great number of these jewels to the ladies of the
court; and Madame du Pompadour was so charmed with his generosity, that
she gave him a richly enamelled snuff-box as a token of her regard, on the
lid of which was beautifully painted a portrait of Socrates, or some other
Greek sage, to whom she compared him. He was not only lavish to the
mistresses, but to the maids. Madame du Hausset says: "The count came to
see Madame du Pompadour, who was very ill, and lay on the sofa. He shewed
her diamonds enough to furnish a king's treasury. Madame sent for me to
see all those beautiful things. I looked at them with an air of the utmost
astonishment; but I made signs to her that I thought them all false. The
count felt for something in a pocket-book about twice as large as a
spectacle-case, and at length drew out two or three little paper packets,
which he unfolded, and exhibited a superb ruby. He threw on the table,
with a contemptuous air, a little cross of green and white stones. I
looked at it, and said it was not to be despised. I then put it on, and
admired it greatly. The count begged me to accept it; I refused. He urged
me to take it. At length he pressed so warmly, that madame, seeing it
could not be worth more than a thousand livres, made me a sign to accept
it. I took the cross, much pleased with the count's politeness."
How the adventurer obtained his wealth remains a secret. He could not have
made it all by the sale of his _elixir vitæ_ in Germany, though no doubt
some portion of it was derived from that source. Voltaire positively says
he was in the pay of foreign governments; and in his letter to the King of
Prussia, dated the 5th of April 1758, says that he was initiated in all
the secrets of Choiseul, Kaunitz, and Pitt. Of what use he could be to any
of those ministers, and to Choiseul especially, is a mystery of mysteries.
There appears no doubt that he possessed the secret of removing spots from
diamonds; and in all probability he gained considerable sums by buying at
inferior prices such as had flaws in them, and afterwards disposing of
them at a profit of cent per cent. Madame du Hausset relates the following
anecdote on this particular: "The king," says she, "ordered a
middling-sized diamond, which had a flaw in it, to be brought to him.
After having it weighed, his majesty said to the count, 'The value of this
diamond as it is, and with the flaw in it, is six thousand livres; without
the flaw, it would be worth at least ten thousand. Will you undertake to
make me a gainer of four thousand livres?' St. Germain examined it very
attentively, and said, 'It is possible; it may be done. I will bring it
you again in a month.' At the time appointed the count brought back the
diamond without a spot, and gave it to the king. It was wrapped in a cloth
of amianthos, which he took off. The king had it weighed immediately, and
found it very little diminished. His majesty then sent it to his jeweller
by M. de Gontant, without telling him of any thing that had passed. The
jeweller gave nine thousand six hundred livres for it. The king, however,
sent for the diamond back again, and said he would keep it as a curiosity.
He could not overcome his surprise, and said M. de St. Germain must be
worth millions, especially if he possessed the secret of making large
diamonds out of small ones. The count neither said that he could or could
not, but positively asserted that he knew how to make pearls grow, and
give them the finest water. The king paid him great attention, and so did
Madame du Pompadour. M. du Quesnoy once said that St. Germain was a quack,
but the king reprimanded him. In fact, his majesty appears infatuated by
him, and sometimes talks of him as if his descent were illustrious."
St. Germain had a most amusing vagabond for a servant, to whom he would
often appeal for corroboration, when relating some wonderful event that
happened centuries before. The fellow, who was not without ability,
generally corroborated him in a most satisfactory manner. Upon one
occasion, his master was telling a party of ladies and gentlemen, at
dinner, some conversation he had had in Palestine with King Richard I. of
England, whom he described as a very particular friend of his. Signs of
astonishment and incredulity were visible on the faces of the company;
upon which St. Germain very coolly turned to his servant, who stood behind
his chair, and asked him if he had not spoken truth? "I really cannot
say," replied the man, without moving a muscle; "you forget, sir, I have
only been five hundred years in your service!" "Ah! true," said his
master; "I remember now; it was a little before your time!"
Occasionally, when with men whom he could not so easily dupe, he gave
utterance to the contempt with which he could scarcely avoid regarding
such gaping credulity. "These fools of Parisians," said he to the Baron de
Gleichen, "believe me to be more than five hundred years old; and, since
they will have it so, I confirm them in their idea. Not but that I really
am much older than I appear."
Many other stories are related of this strange impostor; but enough have
been quoted to shew his character and pretensions. It appears that he
endeavoured to find the philosopher's stone; but never boasted of
possessing it. The Prince of Hesse Cassel, whom he had known years before,
in Germany, wrote urgent letters to him, entreating him to quit Paris, and
reside with him. St. Germain at last consented. Nothing further is known
of his career. There were no gossipping memoir-writers at the court of
Hesse Cassel to chronicle his sayings and doings. He died at Sleswig,
under the roof of his friend the prince, in the year 1784.
CAGLIOSTRO.
This famous charlatan, the friend and successor of St. Germain, ran a
career still more extraordinary. He was the arch-quack of his age, the
last of the great pretenders to the philosopher's stone and the water of
life, and during his brief season of prosperity, one of the most
conspicuous characters of Europe.