 |
| Count Alessandro di Cagliostro |
“I never smarten up a chump, educate a mark and I never give a sucker an even break. Remember: you can’t cheat an honest man.” - William Claude Dukenfeld (aka W.C. Fields).
Of all the rascals, thugs and no-accounts that have darkened the pages of human history, none is perhaps as colorful as the confidence (con) artist. Whereas other types of thieves rely on force or the implied use of force to separate their victims from their money, the con artist relies on his victim’s personality to do the job. Where a robber uses a weapon, a con artist uses his (or her) wits.
Con artists come in no set profile. They exist in all varieties, as do their victims. A con can be something as simple as hitting someone up for a donation to a phony charity, to something spectacular like the infamous Ponzi scheme of Bernie Madoff. In the former scenario the con artist is preying on his victims’ compassion, in the latter, their greed. Despite false assurances to the contrary by some, virtually anyone can become a victim of a con artist under the right circumstances.
Some of the wealthiest and most influential people in history have in fact fallen victim to the schemes of these tricksters. A number of victims of the aforementioned Bernie Madoff were multi-millionaires and even some banks were taken in by him! Several prominent charities that had also invested in his phony wealth management business were forced to close. It is only logical then, those con artists who prey on the biggest ‘fish’ would get the most press and perhaps earn a niche in the history books.
It could be argued that it’s apropos the same ethnos that has given the world organizations like the Camorra and the Cosa Nostra has also given it some of its greatest con artists. Who pulled off the first con in history? Who knows? Who really cares? If you were to ask me, though, who was the greatest of them all, my choice unquestionably would be the man Scottish historian Thomas Carlyle called the “King of Liars.”
As one might imagine with a character like ‘Count’ Alessandro di Cagliostro, his origins are shrouded somewhat in mystery and controversy. He claimed to have been born of Christian parents of noble pedigree. For reasons he could never quite explain, he was abandoned as an orphan on the island of Malta.
Most historians agree, however, that Alessandro di Cagliostro was, in fact, Giuseppe Balsamo, a man born into the poverty of Albergheria, the old Jewish section of Palermo, Sicily on June 2nd, 1743. His father, Pietro Balsamo, was a jeweler who had died bankrupt only a few months after Giuseppe was born. This left his mother Felice (née) Bracconieri to care for him and his older sister in a two-room apartment on one of the poorest streets in the poorest section of Palermo.
Giuseppe Balsamo might have lived out his life as anyone else living in Palermo at that time, but he was not like anyone else. Quick-eyed, sharp-witted and possessed both with charisma and bravado, at an early age he commanded a gang of picciotti (It: “street toughs”) who made a name for themselves robbing people from other quarters when they weren’t battling the police.
Signora Balsamo was able to acquire needed funds from her well-off father and brothers to send the boy to school. His education included private tutoring, training as a novice monk at the monastery of the Fatebenefratelli healing order in the inland town of Caltagirone, and even tutoring from an art master in Palermo itself.
All who came in contact with young Giuseppe agreed he was exceptionally intelligent and imaginative. It was noted early on he was especially adept at chemistry and could draw with remarkable accuracy. This accuracy extended to reproducing handwriting, printing and insignia. This latter talent would serve him well in his later years.
Had he devoted himself to serious study, Giuseppe might have eventually gone on to become a fairly accomplished businessman like his uncles or even a significant figure in the Church. Sadly, however, his years on the streets of Palermo had left him with a hard edge. While his intelligence was surpassing, his behavior was appalling! His inability to conform to social norms guaranteed his expulsion from whatever institution of learning he enrolled in. That plus the dark lure of the fast ducat would forever prevent him making an honest living.
Balsamo’s first major swindle was on a local chump – a wealthy silversmith named Vincenzo Marano – in 1764. Giuseppe had convinced Marano of the existence of a treasure that had been buried centuries earlier on Mt. Pellegrino. Balsamo had also convinced this polpetta the treasure was magically guarded by demons and Marano would need him to cast the spells necessary to keep them at bay. For “services rendered” Balsamo had Marano pay him the princely sum of 70 pieces of silver.
However, when the time came to dig up the treasure, Balsamo instead attacked Marano and made off with the money. Marano was apparently so stupid he actually thought he had been attacked by demons! By the time he got around to inquiring what happened to his ‘partner’, Balsamo (and two accomplices) had left Palermo for Messina, taking Marano’s money with them.
 |
| Lorenza Seraphina Feliciani |
By 1768 he found himself in Rome, where he had been able to finagle a job as secretary for one Cardinal Orsini. Soon, however, he found himself returning to old habits, eventually selling “Egyptian” amulets with purported magical properties and forged paintings. It was while in Rome he was introduced to a 14-y.o. girl named Lorenza Seraphina Feliciani, whom he married. Initially the couple lived with her parents, a deeply religious couple. However, when Cagliostro’s corrupting influences upon the girl became apparent, they were forced to move.
Around this time Balsamo befriended another ne’er-do-well by the name of Agliata who taught him how to forge letters of credit, merchants’ bills of exchange, diplomas and a number of official documents including military brevets! In return for this, however, Agliata demanded sex with Seraphina. Incredibly, Balsamo gave his consent!
Balsamo’s relationship with Agliata ended when a member of their gang betrayed them to the local constabulary (and Agliata disappeared with everybody’s money). Giuseppe and Seraphina were able to con their way out of any serious trouble with the law and departed for other parts of Europe.
 |
Claude Louis Comte de Saint-Germain
|
Giuseppe and Seraphina made their way to London, where it is said they eventually made the acquaintance of the Comte de Saint-Germain, another legendary con artist and swindler. The exact details of this meeting are sketchy, but it was said to have had a profound influence on the younger Balsamo. Several years later, in July of 1776 to be exact, when Giuseppe returned to London, he began to introduce himself as ‘Count Cagliostro’ (or sometimes Count Pellegrini), taking the surname of one of his forebears. Like Saint-Germain, he also began to work his way up the food chain of the gullible and greedy by cobbling together some of the most fantastic bricolage of his day! Balsamo discovered, to his delight, there was no shortage of fat pigeons waiting to be plucked, even among the wealthiest and most educated peoples of Europe!
Observation“Men are so simple and yield so readily to the wants of the moment that he who will trick will always find another who will suffer himself to be tricked.”– Niccolò Machiavelli: The Prince, II, 1513
Armed with their new identities, and the costumes that went with them, the Count and Countess Pellegrini-Cagliostro made a splash in London high society. Cagliostro’s fortunes in London soon changed, for he had another run-in with the law. However, it was during this time he also joined the Esperance Lodge of the Freemasons. For Giuseppe Balsamo, now Count Pellegrini-Cagliostro, this was an epiphany! For now the roguish son of a ruined Sicilian jeweler saw the means by which he could give full expression to both his genius and his connivance!
Shortly after this Cagliostro and Seraphina left London and eventually arrived in The Hague where Dutch Freemasons treated them like visiting royalty and conferred upon them both additional Masonic honors (and certificates).
With these honors bestowed upon them, Cagliostro and his wife traveled about Europe, opening up a number of Masonic lodges as they went about. In spite of official displeasure by Roman Catholic authorities (i.e. the Inquisition), Cagliostro was instrumental in spreading Freemasonry and its ideals across the Continent. Some even credit the creation of the Egyptian rite of Freemasonry to him. He is also credited with helping women to gain acceptance into the community.
Several historians point out Cagliostro did in fact do some good during his career as the “King of Liars”. Among examples of his beneficence, his is credited with starting and funding a chain of maternity hospitals and orphanages around Europe. It should be remembered though that Bernie Madoff likewise engaged extensively in philanthropy while he was simultaneously running his infamous Ponzi scheme.
Ironically, of all the scams associated with Cagliostro, the one for which he is best remembered is the one in which he probably played no part. This incident is remembered as the Affair of the Diamond Necklace.
The Affair occurred in France and was the brainchild of another con artist (a woman) named Jeanne de la Motte-Valois, wife of an officer of the gendarmes, soi-disant comte de la Motte. It concerned a lavishly expensive diamond necklace that had been ordered by King Louis XV for his mistress, Madame du Barry. However, the King had died before the necklace had been finished and his son, King Louis XVI banished Madame du Barry from court. In turn, Louis XVI’s wife, Queen Marie Antoinette, refused the necklace.
Basically, Jeanne de la Motte-Valois had conceived a scheme to make one Cardinal de Rohan, a former French ambassador to the Court of Vienna, believe the Queen was in love with him. Using a prostitute look-a-like of the Queen, she conned the Cardinal into loaning her huge sums of money which she used to enter French high society. The scheme fell apart when Jeanne le la Motte-Valois and her husband conned the Cardinal into putting a down payment on the necklace which they purloined and smuggled into England to sell off. The jewelers complained to the Queen when they realized they weren’t going to be paid. This in turn ignited a scandal which further blackened the reputation of the Queen in the eyes of the French people (who came to believe she had a part in it) and undoubtedly contributed to the French Revolution.
Cagliostro was arrested with the conspirators and thrown in the Bastille where he languished for nine months before being acquitted at trial. Nevertheless, he and his wife were ordered to leave France and never return. He and his wife departed for England in 1786.
While in England his past briefly caught up with him. He was publicly accused of being Giuseppe Balsamo by a gutter journalist named Charles Théveneau de Morande. In response Cagliostro published his Open Letter to the English People which succeeded in turning public opinion against de Morande, who apologized to Cagliostro and retracted his claim.
Not too long after this the Cagliostros traveled again to Italy, where this time he fell afoul of the dreaded Roman Inquisition. According to some accounts Seraphina had thoroughly tired of being married to her domineering husband and desired to be rid of him (since divorce was impossible). Back in Rome and the apparent safety of her family, she contacted two spies of the Inquisition who did the rest. Cagliostro was arrested on December 27th, 1789 and tried with the crime of being a member of Freemasonry (a serious charge back then in Catholic Italy). Seraphina was in turn placed under house arrest in the Convent of Santa Apollonia, apparently for the remainder of her life.
Tried and condemned to death, his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment in Castel Sant’Angelo. After trying unsuccessfully to escape, he was relocated to the hell-hole prison in the Fortress of San Leo, where he died under miserable circumstances shortly afterwards.
Though charlatan, cheat, pimp and rogue, Giuseppe Balsamo (alias ‘Count’ Alessandro di Cagliostro) lived a life most can only dream of living. A master forger and liar extraordinaire, he used these two unsavory talents to burn his candle at both ends until he was burned in the end. Nevertheless, due to humanity’s love affair with rogues, he remains to this day a potent figure in both fiction and non-fiction. Prominent actors such as Orson Welles and Christopher Walken have portrayed him in film, and several operas have been composed about him. No less than Germany’s supreme literary genius Johann Wolfgang von Goethe wrote a comedy based on his life, Der Groß-Coptha (Gr: The Great Cophta).
His influence on Occultism and Freemasonry are well-established, and he is regarded as a historically significant figure in both movements to this day. Much of the negative press written about him and his exploits are undoubtedly false; an occupational hazard of controversial figures.
Though I must confess to finding his life a dishonorable one, I would consider it an injustice to simply dismiss him as just another con artist. In truth, he was the King of them all! Though many would come close to him, none would match him in daring, bravado and chutzpah! That so many to this day find him so fascinating can no doubt be explained by the disturbing realization there are so many who secretly wish to be like him.
That realization, then, is probably the chief good that can come from keeping his memory alive. To know there are to this day many like him, those who promise us the moon while reaching for our wallets, may help protect some of us from these unscrupulous types. In any event, when we read about the Cagliostros of this world we can always chuckle to ourselves at the greed and naiveté that exists in us all that allows his sort to exist in the first place.
Further reading:
• Iain McCalman: The Last Alchemist: Count Cagliostro, Master of Magic in the Age of Reason; Harper Collins Publishers, 2003
