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

Cagliostro replied that he was tarrying for a few days, and they began to converse on the beauty of the town and on its advantageous situation, a kind of oriental imagery individualising the eloquence of the stranger, whose remarks were, moreover, adroitly adorned with a few appropriate compliments. He eluded inquiries as to his own identity, but offered to unveil the past of the Count Cagliostro, and to reveal what was actually passing in his mind at that moment. When Cagliostro hinted at sorcery, the Armenian smiled somewhat scornfully, and dilated on the ignorance of a nation which confused science with witchcraft, and prepared faggots for discoverers.

His hearer, much interested, ventured to ask the address of the illustrious stranger, who graciously invited him to call. They walked past the cathedral and halted in a small quadrilateral street shaded by sycamores, and having a charming fountain in the centre.

“Signor,” said the stranger, “there is the house I inhabit. I receive no one; but as you are a traveller, as you are young and courteous, as, moreover, you are animated by a noble passion for the sciences, I permit you to visit me. I shall be visible to you to-morrow a little before midnight. You will rap twice on the hammer”—he pointed as he spoke to the door of a low-storied house—“then three times more slowly, and you will be admitted. Adieu! Hasten at once to your inn. A Piedmontese is trying to possess himself of the seven and thirty ounces of gold that are secured in your valise, and which is itself shut up in a press, the key of which is in your pocket at this moment. Your servant, signor!” and he departed rapidly.

On the morrow, at the time appointed, he knocked at the door of the little house inhabited by the Armenian. It was opened at the fifth blow without any visible agency, and closed as soon as the visitor had entered. Cagliostro cautiously advanced along a narrow passage, illuminated by a small iron lamp in a niche of the wall. At the extremity of the passage a spacious door sprang open, giving admittance into a ground-floor parlour which was illuminated by a four-branched candelabra, holding tapers of wax, and was, in fact, a laboratory furnished with all the apparatus in use among practical alchemists. The Armenian, issuing from a neighbouring cabinet, greeted the visitor, inquired after the safety of the gold, had intelligence of the truth of his clairvoyance, and of the deserved fate of the malefactor, but cut short the expressed astonishment and admiration of Cagliostro by declaring that the art of divination was simply the result of scientific combinations and close observations. He ended by asking his hearer if he denied the infallible certitude of judicial astrology, but the self-constituted count denied nothing except the superior power of virtue over self-interest, whereat the Armenian inquired to whom he was indebted for his training.

“Egypt,” said the Armenian, “is the birthplace of all human science. Astronomy alone had Chaldea for its fatherland; there the shepherds first studied the courses of the stars. Egypt availed itself of the astro-Chaldean initiations, and soon surpassed the methods and increased the discoveries of the shepherds. Since the reign of the Pharaoh Manes, and of his successors, Busiris, Osymandyas, Uchoreas, and Moeris, Egyptian knowledge has advanced with giant strides. Joseph, the dream-reader, established the basis of chiromancy; the priests of Osiris and Isis invented the Zodiac; the Cosmogonies of Phre and Horus revealed agriculture and other physical sciences; the priestesses of Ansaki unveiled the secrets of philtres; the priests of Serapis taught medicine. I might proceed with the sublime enumeration, but to what end? Will you faithfully follow me to Egypt? I hope to embark to-morrow, and we shall touch at Malta on the way—possibly also at Candia—reaching the port of Phare in eight days.”

This Altotas, or Althotes, we are assured by Figuier, was no imaginary character. The Roman Inquisition collected many proofs of his existence, without, however, ascertaining where it began or ended, for the mysterious personage vanished like a meteor. According to the Italian biography of Joseph Balsamo, Altotas was in possession of several Arabic manuscripts, and assumed great skill in chemistry. According to Figuier, he was a magician and doctor as well, though others represent him despising and rejecting the abused name of physician. As to his divinatory abilities, he had already given a signal proof of their extent to his pupil, but he showed him that he was acquainted with all his Palermese antecedents.

They embarked on board a Genoese vessel, sailed along the Archipelago, landed at Alexandria, where they tarried for forty days, performing several operations in chemistry, by which they are said to have produced a considerable sum of money, but whether by transmutation or by imposture is not apparently clear. Cagliostro’s respect for his master did not prevent him, with true Sicilian subtlety, inquiring as to his own antecedents, till Altotas, weary of resorting to the same stratagems of evasion, declared to him once for all that he was himself in complete ignorance as to his birth and parentage.

He declared himself to be much older than would appear, but that he was in possession of certain secrets for the conservation of strength and health. He had discovered the scientific methods of producing gold and precious stones, spoke ten or twelve languages fluently, and was acquainted with almost the entire circle of human sciences. “Nothing astonishes me,” he said, “nothing grieves me, save the evils which I am powerless to prevent, and I trust to reach in peace the term of my protracted existence.”

He confessed that his name of Altotas was self-chosen, yet was it truly his. His early years had been passed on the coast of Barbary, near Tunis, where he belonged to a Mussulman privateer, who was a rich and humane man, and who had purchased him from pirates, by whom he had been stolen from his family. At twelve years of age he spoke Arabic like a native, read the Koran to his master, who was a true believer, studied botany under his direction, and learned the best methods for making sherbet and coffee. A post of honour was in store for him in the household of his master; but destiny decreed that when Altotas was sixteen, the worthy Mussulman should be gathered to his fathers. In his will he gave the young slave his liberty, and bequeathed him a sum which was equivalent to six thousand livres, wherewith Altotas quitted Tunis to indulge his passion for travelling.

Cagliostro represented that he had followed his instructor into Africa and the heart of Egypt, that he visited the pyramids, making the acquaintance of the priests of different temples, and penetrating into the arcana of their mysterious sanctuaries. Moreover, he declares himself to have visited, during the space of three years, all the principal kingdoms of Africa and Asia. These statements are identical in their value with the romantic story of his education in the palace of the muphti at Medina. It is altogether doubtful whether he ever visited Arabia, which was in any case the extreme limit of his wanderings, and he is subsequently discovered at Rhodes still in the society of Altotas, and pursuing, in common with that mysterious being, his doubtful chemical operations.

At Malta they had letters of introduction to the Grand Master, Pinto, and tarried for some time to work in his laboratory, for the “supreme chief of Maltese chivalry” was infatuated with alchemical experiments, and, after the fashion of that extravagant period, had a strong bias towards the marvellous. The history of the failure or success of the errant adepts remains in the laboratory of the Grand Master; but from this moment Altotas, the chemist and alchemist—Altotas, the phenomenal, the wise man, the scientist—disappears completely. “Malta was his sepulchre, or haply the place of his apotheosis.” “There,” says the Count, in his Memoir, “it was my misery to lose my best friend, the most wise, the most illuminated of mortals, the venerable Altotas. He clasped my hands shortly before his death. ‘My son,’ he said, in a failing voice, ‘keep ever before thine eyes the fear of the Eternal and the love of thy neighbour. Thou wilt soon learn the truth of all which I have taught thee.’”

With every mark of respect on the part of the Grand Master, and accompanied by the Chevalier d’Aquino, of the illustrious house of Caramania, and himself a Knight of Malta, Cagliostro repaired to Naples, where he supported himself for some time with money which had been presented to him by Pinto, and perhaps by loans from his possibly opulent companion, who, however, eventually quitted him to proceed into France. In Naples Cagliostro met with a Sicilian prince who was infected by the prevalent gold fever, and was so enraptured with the high-sounding theories of Cagliostro that he invited him to his chateau in the neighbourhood of Palermo, where they might pursue their operations in common. It was imprudent, but the pupil of the great Altotas could not resist the desire to revisit his native land. He tarried a certain period with his companion, but going one day into Messina, he encountered an old acquaintance, a certain dissolute priest, his confederate in the affair of Marano, and who had, in fact, acted as one of the sable fiends whose stout clubs had agonised the unfortunate goldsmith. The adventurer warned Cagliostro not to enter Palermo, where justice was highly offended at his youthful indiscretions. He persuaded him to join fortunes with himself, return to Naples, and there open a gaming-house for the benefit, or rather for the bleeding, of the wealthy foreigners who visited Italy.

This method of gold-making was quite after the heart of his hearer, who soon took his leave of the Sicilian prince, but they were regarded with so much suspicion by the Neapolitan Government that they retired into the Papal states. Cagliostro’s companion had, however, received the tonsure, and he trembled for his safety on the consecrated ground which was the stronghold of the Holy Inquisition, so he hastened his departure to less orthodox places, and does not figure further in the chequered history of his brother in chicanery.

Cagliostro remained, and is said to have assumed several different characters, occasionally including the sacerdotal habit. According to some accounts, he made himself remarkable for his extreme piety, visiting all the churches, fulfilling the duties of religion, and frequenting the palaces of cardinals. By means of some letters of recommendation which he had brought with him from Naples, he obtained access to several persons of distinction, among others to the Seneschal de Breteuil, at that time Ambassador from Malta to Rome, and who, hearing of his former connection with the Grand Master, received him with much warmth, and procured him other honourable connections. One illustrious dupe ensured others, and we find him in a short time established in the Holy City, retailing wonderful recipes and specifics for all the diseases which afflict fallen humanity in Rome and the universe. Crowns and ducats flowed in upon him; he lived in some state and luxury, refraining, however, from scandalous enjoyments.

The Italian biography which represents the opinions, embodies the researches, and champions the cause of the Inquisition, draws, however, a different picture to those of Saint-Felix and Louis Figuier. “He employed himself at this period,” says this doubtful, because indisputably biassed, authority, “in making drawings on paper, the outlines of which were produced by means of a copperplate engraving, and afterwards were filled up with Indian ink. These he sold as designs made by means of the pen alone. Having taken up his abode at the Sign of the Sun, in the neighbourhood of the Rotunda, he quarrelled with one of the waiters and suffered imprisonment for three days.”

Whatever these statements are worth, there is no doubt hanging over the most important incident of his Roman career. It was in that place and at this period that he first beheld the young and beautiful Lorenza Feliciani, and having in two days fallen violently in love with her, he demanded her in marriage from her father, who, fascinated by his birth, his aristocratic name, and opulent appearance, consented, together with the lady. The marriage took place, not without éclat, says one section of the witnesses, and the pair resided in the house of the father-in-law. The Italian life, minimising to the uttermost the success of Cagliostro, says that he received as a dower a trifling fortune proportionate to their condition.

According to the testimony of all the biographers, inquisitorial or otherwise, Lorenza was not only young and beautiful, but “rich in every quality of the heart, being tender, devoted, honest, and modest;” but her husband conceived the diabolical design of advancing his fortunes at the expense of her honour, and in private conversation took occasion to rally her notions of virtue, which he sought to undermine. The first lesson which the young bride received from her husband, according to her own confession, was intended to instruct her in the means of attracting and gratifying the passions of the opposite sex. The most wanton coquetry and the most lascivious arts were the principles with which he endeavoured to inspire her. The mother of Lorenza, scandalised at his conduct, had such frequent altercations with her son-in-law, that he resolved to remove from her house, and in other quarters found it a simpler task to corrupt the mind and morals of his wife. Then, according to the Italian author, he presented her to two persons well qualified for the exercise of her talents, having instructed her to entangle them both by her allurements. With one of these she did not succeed, but over the other she acquired a complete victory. Cagliostro himself conducted her to the house destined for the pleasure of the lover, left her alone in his company, and retired to another chamber.

The interview and the offers made to her were such as entirely corresponded to the wishes of the husband, but the wife on this occasion did not exhibit a proper instance of conjugal obedience, and upon imparting the whole affair confidentially to her husband, received the most bitter reproach and the most violent and dreadful menaces. He also repeatedly assured her that adultery was no crime when it was committed by a woman to advance her interests, and not through affection for other men. He even added example to precept, by showing how little he himself respected the ties of conjugal fidelity—that is, apparently, he sold himself to lascivious females of advanced age, and on these occasions aroused his dormant passions by drinking a certain Egyptian wine, composed of aromatics which possessed the necessary qualities for the completion of his intention. His wife, hearkening at length to his instructions, was conducted several times to the place where she had formerly proved so disobedient to his orders. She sometimes received, says the same witness, either clothes or trinkets, and sometimes a little money, as the reward of her condescension. One day her husband wrote a letter, in the name of his wife, in which he begged the loan of a few crowns; these were immediately sent. In return for them an interview was promised during the course of the next day, and the lady was faithful to the appointment.

Such is the version of this disgraceful business given by the enemies of Cagliostro, but all biographers agree that he corrupted the morals of his wife. Indeed, the only question is whether the transaction took place on the sordid scale described by the Italian writer. Other authorities tell us that his success tempted “a beautiful Roman—Lorenza Feliciani—to share his rising fortunes. Unscrupulous, witty, and fascinating, Lorenza was an admirable partner for Cagliostro, who speedily made her an adept in all his pretended mysteries.” Whatever were her natural virtues or failings, it is highly improbable that she sold her uncommon attractions for such paltry and miserable advantages.