Lives of alchemystical philosophers To which is added a...

The notorious Count Cagliostro appears from an impartial review of his history and phenomenal exploits, to have been one of those characters not uncommonly met with in the chequered annals of occultism. Even as the modern “mediums,” who outrage the confidence of their believers by leavening the supernatural bread, whereof the ghastly patent is their prerogative and birthright, with the unrighteous mammon of material conjuring, and even as those conjurors who are sometimes supposed to still further perplex their audience by supplementary compacts with “spooks,” this high priest of transcendental trickery would seem to have possessed, perhaps unconsciously, a certain share of occult gifts, which assisted no little his unparalleled rogueries. Mystical knowledge beyond that of the age in which he lived was undoubtedly his, and though it was still superficial, he had a genius for making the most of it.

Joseph Balsamo, whatever has been advanced to the contrary by himself[AJ] or his admirers, was the son of Peter Balsamo and Felicia Bracconieri, both of humble extraction. He was born at Palermo, in Sicily, on the 8th of June 1743. His parents are authentically described as honest tradespeople and good Catholics, who were careful in the education of their offspring, and solicitous for their spiritual welfare. Their shop drew much custom in the populous neighbourhood which divided the handsome Rue del Cæsaro. While his children were still young, Peter Balsamo died, and, left under the inadequate control of a widowed mother, Joseph betrayed, even in his earliest years, a selfish and indolent disposition, greatly neglecting the scanty educational advantages which were afforded him. According to other accounts, he was taken under the protection of his maternal uncle, who endeavoured to instruct him in the principles of religion, and to give him an education suitable to his age and prospects; but, even from his infancy, he showed himself uniformly averse to a virtuous course of life. His uncle was a worthy bourgeois of Palermo, who foresaw, by the vivacity and penetration of his nephew, that he might easily become proficient in letters and the sciences.[AK] By him he was desired to embrace an ecclesiastical career, as the royal road to distinction in those days. Accordingly, at the age of thirteen he was placed in the Seminary of St Roch di Palermo, where he proved his independence and aversion to discipline by continually running away.

Recaptured in vagabond company, he was committed, with no very favourable character, to a certain father-general of the Bon Fratelli, who was passing through Palermo. The father-general took charge of him and straightway carried him to a Benedictine convent on the outskirts of Cartagirone. There the walls were high, and the caged dove was in the keeping of an inflexible frère tourier. He assumed perforce the habit of a novice, and the father-general discovering his aptitude for natural history and, more especially, his herbalistic tastes, placed him under the tuition of the conventual apothecary, from whom, as he afterwards acknowledged, he learned the first principles of chemistry and medicine. Figuier states that in a short time he was able to manipulate the drugs with astonishing sagacity; but even then it was remarked that he seemed eager to discover those secrets which would further the interests of charlatanry.[AL] In strict accordance with his natural perversity, he did not fail to give various instances of his innate viciousness, and drew down upon himself the continual chastisements of his superiors.

One day the involuntary novice, whose irregularities were to some extent excusable on the ground of the constraint that was put on him, but who often outstripped all bounds, was set to read during dinner in the refectory a certain portion of an exceedingly edifying martyrology, and yielding, says one writer with pious indignation, to an inspiration of Belial, he substituted for the sacred text a blasphemous version suggested by his own dissolute imagination, perverting the sense and the incidents, and pushed his audacity so far as to substitute for the saintly names those of the most notorious courtesans of the period. A severe penance was imposed on the insolent offender; but one night he found means to evade the vigilance of his guardians, escaped from the convent, crossed the intervening country, and after some days of joyous gipsying and vagabond wanderings, he arrived at Palermo. Some knowledge of the principles of chemistry and medicine was about the total of the advantages he had derived from the discipline of conventual life. His uncle began to despair of him, but advice and remonstrances were alike lost upon the young reprobate, who derided them all, and employing a certain portion of his time in the cultivation of a natural taste for drawing, he otherwise abandoned himself to unbridled excesses.

He associated with rascals and ne’er-do-wells; his drunkenness, gambling, and general libertinage, led him into perpetual brawling; and he was frequently in the hands of the police, whom he is said to have taken special pleasure in resisting, frequently delivering by force the prisoners whom they had arrested. He has been also accused of forging tickets of admission to the theatres, and selling them with characteristic effrontery. One of his uncles coaxed him back for a time into his house, and was rewarded by the robbery of a considerable quantity of money and some valuable effects. He became an intermediary in the amorous intercourse of a female cousin with one of his friends. He carried billets-doux to and fro between them, and made the entire transaction personally profitable by extorting money from his friend, persuading him that the fair cousin had a partiality for presents, including both money and jewellery, and, of course, appropriating the funds which were entrusted to him. Graver crimes were soon laid to his charge. There was a certain dissolute Marquis Maurigi in Palermo who coveted an inheritance which had been willed to a pious establishment, and knowing Balsamo, to him were his projects confided, and an expedient was presently forthcoming. Joseph had a relative who was a notary, and by frequenting his office he found means to forge a will, bearing every mark of authenticity, in favour of the Marquis, who made good his claim to the estate, and no doubt liberally recompensed the skill and pains of his confederate.

The falsification was discovered many years after, but the guilty parties were both of them far away. It was also rumoured that Balsamo was a party to the assassination of a wealthy canon, but the matter is exceedingly doubtful. He was many times arrested on various charges, but eluded justice, either by the absence of direct proof against him, or by the credit of his relations, and the exertions of reputable persons of Palermo, who took interest in his family. It will scarcely be credited that at this period Balsamo was only fourteen years of age. Naturally endowed with artistic aptitudes, he soon began to give lessons in drawing, and seems to have been many times on a fair way to reformation. His skill in arms is also acknowledged, but, conscious of his superiority, his street brawls frequently ended in duels; his impetuosity even prompted him to take up the gauntlet for his companions, and he scorned danger.

An avaricious goldsmith, named Marano, resided at Palermo. He was a weak, superstitious man—a believer in magic, says M. Louis Figuier—and he was much attracted by the mystery which, even at this period, is declared by Figuier to have surrounded the life and escapades of Balsamo, who already posed as an initiate of the occult sciences. Joseph was now seventeen years of age, of handsome mien and haughty carriage, speaking little, but holding his hearers spell-bound by the magnetic fascination of his glance. He had been seen evoking spirits; he was believed to converse with angels, and to obtain by their agency an insight into the most interesting secrets. He had, in fact, radically changed; the common rogue was developing into the transcendental impostor. Marano lent an attentive ear to the stories concerning him, and burned with anxiety to behold “the friend of the celestial spirits.” The first interview took place in the lodging of Balsamo; the goldsmith fell on his knees before him, and Balsamo, after receiving his homage, raised him condescendingly from the ground, and demanded in a solemn manner why he had come to him.

This version of the story is more romantic than probable, and we owe it to the vivacity of a Frenchman’s imagination, which is never more brilliant than when employed in the perversion or embellishment of history. According to the more sober Aventures de Cagliostro, Marano had for some time been acquainted with the youthful charlatan, who sought him one day at his own residence, and said to him: “You are aware of my communications with the supernal spirits; you are aware of the illimitable potency of the incantations to which I devote myself. Listen! In an olive field, at no great distance from Palermo, there is a buried treasure according to my certain knowledge, and by the help of a ceremonial evocation I can discover the precise spot where the spade of the seeker should be driven in. The operation, however, requires some expensive preliminaries; sixty ounces of gold are absolutely needed. Will you place them at my disposal?”

“Do you take them for sordid speculators?” cried the magician, indignant. “The devil is no Jew, though he abode full long in Judea. He is a magnificent seigneur, living generously in every country of the world. Treat him with respect, he returns a hundredfold. I shall find elsewhere the sixty ounces of gold, and can afford to dispense with your assistance.”

At moonlight they repaired to the olive field, where Balsamo had secretly made preparations for the approaching evocation. The incantatory preliminaries were sufficiently protracted, and Marano panted with terror under the influence of the magical charms, till it seemed to him that the very earth shivered beneath his feet and phantoms issued from the ground. Marano fell prostrate on his face, an action apparently foreseen, for there and then the wretched goldsmith was belaboured unmercifully with sticks by the infernal spirits, who left him at length for dead, taking flight in the company of the enchanter, and fortified by the possession of the sixty ounces of gold. On the morrow, the goldsmith, fortunately discovered by muleteers, was carried disconsolately home, and forthwith denounced Balsamo to the law. The adventure spread everywhere, but the magician had sailed for Messina.

These are the facts of the case, but the mendacious chronicle of Louis Figuier, alchemical critic and universal manufacturer of light scientific literature, offers us a far more ornate and attractive version. There the adept and his miserable dupe repair to a place appointed at six o’clock in the morning, Balsamo in dignified silence motioning the goldsmith to follow him, and proceeding with a pre-occupied aspect along the road to the chapel of Saint Rosalia for the space of a whole hour. They stopped at length in the middle of a wild meadow, and in front of a grotto, before which Balsamo extended his hand, and solemnly declared that a treasure was buried within it which he himself was forbidden to touch, which was guarded by devils of hell, which devils might, however, be bound for a brief period by the angels who commonly responded to his potent magical call.

He himself had already assumed the posture of adoration. Marano hastened to imitate him, and immediately a clear, harmonious voice in the celestial altitude pronounced the following words—words, says the Frenchman, more delicious in the ears of the covetous miser than all the symphonies of aërial choirs.

“Sixty ounces of pearls, sixty ounces of rubies, sixty ounces of diamonds, in a coffer of enchased gold, weighing one hundred and twenty ounces. The infernal genii who protect this treasure will place it in the hands of the worthy man whom our friend has brought, if he be fifty years of age, if he be no Christian—if—if—if—” and a series of conditions followed which Marano perfectly united in his own penurious person, even to the last, which was thus formulated:—“And if he deposit at the entrance of the grotto, before setting foot therein, sixty ounces of gold to propitiate the guardians.”

This was the parting speech of the goldsmith, and, as it were, the last gasp of his conquered avarice. On the morrow, punctual to the appointed time, they met as before, Balsamo with his habitual coolness, Marano with his gold. They arrived in due course at the grotto, where the angels, consulted as on the previous day, returned the same oracles. Balsamo assumed ignorance of what would take place. With a terrific struggle, Marano deposited his gold and prepared to cross the threshold. He took one step forward, then started back, inquired if there were no danger in penetrating into the depths of the cavern, was assured of safety if the gold had been faithfully weighed, entered with more confidence, and again returned, these manœuvres being repeated several times, under the eyes of the adept, whose expression indicated the most uninterested indifference. At length, Marano took courage and proceeded so far that a return was impossible, for three black, muscular devils started out from the shadows and barred his path, giving vent to the most alarming growls. They seized him, forced him to whirl round and round for a long time, and then while the unhappy creature vainly invoked the assistance of Balsamo, they proceeded to cudgel him lustily till he dropped overwhelmed to the ground, when a clear voice bade him remain absolutely silent and motionless, for he would be instantaneously despatched if he stirred either hand or foot.

The wretched man did not dare to disobey, but after a long swoon the complete stillness encouraged him to raise his head; he dragged himself as best he could to the mouth of the terrible grotto, looked round him, and found that the adept, the demons, and the gold had alike vanished.

When Balsamo arrived at Messina he was furnished with a very handsome sum to support the expenses of his sojourn therein, for the lion’s share of the booty obtained from the goldsmith had, of course, fallen to himself. He lodged in one of the chief inns near the port, and had prepared himself for further adventures, when he suddenly remembered that he had an old and affluent aunt in the town whom he took occasion to visit, but only to discover that she had recently died, leaving the bulk of her fortune to different churches of Messina, and distributing the rest to the poor. Doubtless the dutiful nephew paid to the memory of this ultra-Christian relation a just tribute of regrets, and anxious to inherit at least something from a person so eminent in sanctity, he determined to assume her family name, joined to a title of nobility, and from that time forward he commonly called himself the Count Alessandro Cagliostro. His penetrating and calculating mind, says one of his biographers, understood the prestige which attached to a title at a period when the privileges of birth still exercised an almost undisputed influence.

It was in the town of Messina that Balsamo first met with the mysterious alchemist Altotas, whom in his fabulous autobiography he represented as the oriental tutor of his infancy. As he was promenading one day near the jetty at the extremity of the port, he encountered an individual singularly habited, and possessed of a most remarkable countenance. This person, aged apparently about fifty years, seemed to be an Armenian, though, according to other accounts, he was a Spaniard or Greek. He wore a species of caftan, a silk bonnet, and the extremities of his breeches were concealed in a pair of wide boots. In his left hand he held a parasol, and in his right the end of a cord, to which was attached a graceful Albanian greyhound.