The Saint-Germain Chronicles (28 page)

“Yes. Mr. Franciscus and Mr. Sutton saw him briefly earlier this evening. They suggested that he should avoid the Lodge for a time because of this unpleasant business with the dead Harper girl.” He gave a helpless gesture. “The fireplace was inspected last month. The stove was checked out. The… remains—” he looked toward the cabin and the mass of charred matter in the center of it—“It appears he was asleep on the couch.”

“Yeah,” Ranger Backus said disgustedly. “Probably smoking, and fell asleep and the couch caught on fire. It happened in Red Well last year. Damn dumb thing to do!” He rubbed his brow with his forearm. “The county’ll probably send Fitzallen out to check the body over. Lucky for you this fellow didn’t die like the girl.”

“Yes,” Mr. Rogers agreed with sincerity.

“You ought to warn your guests about smoking in bed,” Ranger Backus persisted.

“Yes.” Then Mr. Rogers recalled himself. “Backus, it’s almost dawn, and our cook will be up soon. If you’d give the Lodge the chance to thank you for all you’ve done, I’d be very grateful.”

The big man looked somewhat mollified. “Well…”

It was Jim Sutton who clinched the matter. “Look, Ranger Backus, I’m a reporter. After what I’ve seen tonight, I’d like to get your impression of what happened.”

Ranger Backus beamed through his fatigue, and admitted, “Breakfast would go good right now, and that’s a fact.”

Harriet Goodman was pale but otherwise herself when she came to check out the next morning.

“We’re sorry you’re leaving,” Mr. Rogers said as he handed back her credit card.

“So am I, Mr. Rogers,” she said in her forthright way, “but since Jim asked me to go to Denver while he covers the trial and there’s that conference in Boulder…”

“I understand.” He paused and asked with great delicacy, “Will you want cabin 21 next year?”

“I… I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers.”

“So are we, Ms. Goodman,” he replied.

“I’ll carry your bags, Harriet,” Franciscus said as he stepped out of the library.

“You don’t have to,” she said bracingly, but with a slight hesitation. “Jim’s…”

“… waiting at the car.” He came down the stairs toward her. “If nothing else, let me apologize for putting you in danger.” He picked up the three pieces of luggage.

“You don’t have to,” she said, rather remotely. “I never realized that…” She stopped, using the opening door as an excuse for her silence.

Franciscus followed her down the steps. “Harriet, you have nothing to fear. This isn’t rabies, you know. One touch doesn’t… condemn you to…”

She stopped and turned to him. “And the dreams? What about the dreams?” Her eyes were sad, and though the questions were meant as accusations, they sounded more like pleas.

“Do you know Spanish?” He saw her baffled nod. “
Y los todos están sueños; Y los sueños sueño son
. I think that’s right.”

“ ‘And everything is dreams; and the dreams are a dream.’ ” She stared at him.

“The poet was talking about life, Harriet.” He began to walk once more. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

She nodded. “But I’m not coming back next year.”

He was not surprised. “Nor am I.”

She turned to him. “Where will you go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Madelaine wants to see Paris. I haven’t lived there regularly for a while.” He nodded toward Jim Sutton, who stood by his three-year-old Porsche.

“How long a while?” Harriet inquired.

He paused and waited until she looked him full in the face. “One hundred eighty-six years,” he said.

Her eyes flickered and turned away from him. “Goodbye, Franciscus. If that’s your name.”

“It’s as good as another,” he said, and they came to the car. “Where do you want the bags?”

“I’ll take care of them,” Jim Sutton said. “You’ll see that her rental car is returned?”

“Of course.” He held out his hand to Harriet. “You have meant a lot to me.”

She took it without reluctance but without enthusiasm. “But there’s only one Madelaine.” There was only disappointment in her words—she was not jealous.

Franciscus shook hands with Jim Sutton, but spoke to Harriet. “That’s true. There is only one Madelaine.” He held the car door for her as she got in. “But then,” he added, “there is only one Harriet.”

Then he slammed the door and turned away; and Jim Sutton and Harriet Goodman watched him go, a neat, black-clad figure moving with easy grace through the long slanting bars of sunlight.

Text of a letter from le Comte de Saint-Germain to Madelaine de Montalia.

654 Rue de Janvier

Paris, France

24 December, 1981

c/o the Department of Antiquities

Marsden Expedition

La Paz, Bolivia

Madelaine, my heart:

Very well, very well, I am willing to try
—
perhaps you are right, after all. There is certainly sufficient love between us if love is enough without life: an ocean and a continent away from you and still I feel your tread, a tremor that speeds along the veins of the earth to me. Nothing will ever diminish it, or could; not disappointment, nor sorrow, nor separation, nor, I think, the true death itself. If our attempt is not successful, nothing will have been lost, and you must not believe that it would be. Whatever comes of this, my love is the same
.

That you exist is all my love asks of you; the rest is added riches, and in you, I have a treasure beyond any other.

Saint-Germain

his seal, the eclipse

«
^

The Historical Comte de Saint-Germain

Essay

“I
T
is not surprising that the English can discover nothing of the true origins, of the Count Saint-Germain,” wrote the Prime Minister of England in 1749, “for England has no secret police. However, the French can learn nothing of him, either, and they have the most efficient secret police in the world.”

The Prime Minister was not alone in his perplexity. His letter echoes statements of many other men and women of his time. There was endless puzzlement about the intelligent, well-traveled, and cultured stranger in all the courts of Europe. It was not as if le Comte de Saint-Germain was inconspicuous or retiring—quite the contrary. He was a prominent figure for about forty years and no one ever unraveled his mystery, which apparently delighted him.

To the Baron von Gleichen, who had mentioned the rumors circulating in France, that le Comte was many centuries old, Saint-Germain gave the following equivocal answer: “It amuses me to allow it to be believed that I have lived in ancient times. The Parisians imagine that I am five hundred years old, and I encourage them in that thought, because it pleases me and them. Of course, I am really far older than I look.” Von Gleichen adds in his memoirs that after reflection, he realized that Saint-Germain had given him no useful information at all, and he found himself in sympathy with the bewildered Frenchmen.

Two of those Parisians left descriptions of le Comte. Madame du Hausset recalled him in her memoirs thus: “Le Comte seemed to be forty years old, or perhaps a trifle more; well-made and deep chested, he was neither corpulent nor thin; he had a fine wry countenance and always appeared to advantage. His taste in clothes was extremely simple, restricted for the most part to garments of black and white. Once he appeared at a court gala with shoe-buckles and garters thickly studded with diamonds… It is not known by anyone where the extraordinary wealth of this man originated. The King [Louis XVI would not tolerate any condescending or mocking talk about M. le Comte, and was often closeted with him in his laboratory.” Madame de Genlis confirms these impressions in
her
memoirs: “He [Saint-Germain] was somewhat below middle size, well-proportioned, and strong, and very active in his movements. His hair was dark, nearly black; his complexion olive. His humorous and intelligent face was expressive of talent. He had the most remarkable eyes, profoundly dark and of a most penetrating character, so that it seemed he could read the very souls of all who met him. He spoke French elegantly with a little accent, and likewise English, Italian, Spanish, German, and Portuguese. He was also said to converse in Latin and Greek. He was an excellent musician and could accompany any song on the harpsichord
extempore
, and with a perfection that astonished Philidor, as much as his style of preluding. He often entertained us with impromptu works played at the keyboard, on the violin, or the guitar.”

Casanova met him on at least three occasions, and did not like him at all. When news of Saint-Germain’s “death” reached him, he remarked in his memoirs that it was learned that the imposter Saint-Germain was
really
the violinist Giovannini. The composer Rameau concluded that Saint-Germain was
really
the musician Balletti. Astonishingly enough, there is some evidence that suggests both Casanova and Rameau were correct.

Not the least mystifying aspect of the mysterious Comte de Saint-Germain was his long list of aliases. In the Netherlands, for instance, when it was learned that le Comte had invested a large amount of money in a particular firm that owned a foundry as well as making dredging equipment, the government required him to sell off his shares in the business because, being a foreigner, he was not allowed to have so much money invested in an industry that might be militarily critical to the Netherlands. Saint-Germain complied at once, and the government was satisfied, as they never learned that the man who bought Saint-Germain’s share of the business was, in fact, another of le Comte’s aliases. In his lifetime, he admitted to having more than twenty aliases in a dozen countries. How many he may have had beyond that is impossible to guess.

He was an alchemist, a mystic, a composer, and a patron of the arts. He entertained elegantly, lived conspicuously well, traveled everywhere, and was received by the most august figures eagerly. There are four and possibly five literary works attributed to him, though only one poem, in
Poèmes Philosophiques sur
l
’
homme
(Paris, 1795), is known to have come truly from his pen. The other titles are questionable. He was Anton Mesmer’s teacher for three or four years. He hobnobbed with all the major noble, political, artistic, academic, and mystical figures of his day. And he remained a mystery.

He claimed to speak over thirty languages, and though this figure was not put to the test, there is hard evidence that he spoke more than a dozen. He was fluent in all the European languages, including Polish (he served as Polish translator for Frederick the Great) and Czech (he translated dispatches intercepted by French couriers). He most certainly had Russian (translations into Italian), Greek (more translations and conversations), Arabic and Turkish (translations for an Austrian nobleman with whom he stayed as a guest in 1755 or 1756), Swedish (he spoke with the ambassador to the Prussian court), and several Balkan dialects. When writing songs, he preferred to set the music to Italian or English lyrics, claiming that they were more musical languages than French.

In occult circles it is generally accepted that Saint-Germain was the son of the Prince of Transylvania, Francis (or Franz or Ferenc) Ragoczy (or Rakoczi), whose fortune were varied, but who lost his title, lands, rights, and crown before the end of his life. His family was exiled and two of his children were taken into the “protection” of the Hapsburgs. The third child (either the eldest or youngest, depending on which school you favor) was “lost” and therefore assumed to have been Saint-Germain.

Piecing together the few solid bits of information about this man (and there are comparatively few for a man who led so public a life), I have come up with what I think may have been the background of this brilliant, elusive man.

First, as to nationality, I believe he was Czech: his face was occasionally described as Slavic, and his skill with languages suggests an Eastern European background and education. In the western part of Europe there was no particular reason to learn Russian, Polish, Hungarian, Greek, or Turkish; in Eastern Europe there was real necessity for a polyglot fluency. His broad and well-developed knowledge of music, letters, and art makes it unlikely that he was Hungarian because at that time the political situation in Hungary was such that few children and young people received instruction in music and art beyond the most rudimentary levels. Saint-Germain was not only talented, but very well trained; his virtuoso accomplishments were not the result of catch-as-catch-can studies.

Saint-Germain was intimately familiar with the traditions and rituals of the Orthodox Church as well as with those of the Roman Catholic Church, which again suggests Eastern European beginnings. Although he was familiar with the occult disciplines of the Kabbalah, Saint-Germain did not appear to have any deep understanding of Jewish traditions and regular religious practices, which seems to indicate that he was not (as was often suspected during his lifetime) a Jew, Wandering or otherwise. Hebrew was not among those languages which he spoke easily, although he was able to read it, which reenforces this conclusion.

Because of the ease with which Saint-Germain and his various aliases moved through European financial capitals and institutions, I believe he had a background in commerce. I think he came from a very upper-level merchant’s family, and as the most monetarily successful group of merchants dealt in jewels, and Saint-Germain himself was famous for the number and quality of his jewels, it appears possible that he came from a family of Czech jewel merchants. The quality of his education supports this. In the eighteenth century, the children of well-to-do jewel merchants and those dealing in other rare substances (exotic fabrics, woods, and spices, primarily) often received education at least on a par with the nobility, and were generally more highly motivated to expand their studies than those of superior social classes. The son of a merchant would wish to prepare himself to travel extensively on business, to be pleasant company, and to excel at social graces for the benefit of business. Saint-Germain’s interest in occult and alchemical studies is consistent with this background, for jewel merchants often sponsored such experimentation in the hope that the means to make artificial but genuine jewels would be discovered.