  “I could not remember any more than that the hero [Cagliostro] had spoken of heaven, of the stars, of the Great Secret, of Memphis, of the High Priest, of transcendental chemistry, of giants and monstrous beasts, of a city ten times as large as Paris, in the middle of Africa, where he had correspondents.”—COUNT BEUGNOT: Memoirs. I.When Madame Blavatsky, High Priestess of Isis, died, there followed a long interregnum during which magic languished. Finally there appeared in the East a star of great magnitude—the five-pointed star of the Gnostics and the Oriental Mahatmas, heralding the coming of another mystic. Madame Blavatsky had set the fashion for Thibetan adepts, and had turned the current of modern occultism towards the Land of the Lamas, so it was quite natural that the new thaumaturgist should hail from the Holy City of Llassa. His name was Monsieur le Docteur Albert de Sarak, Comte de Das, who claimed to be “the son of a Rajah of Thibet and a French Marchioness,” and to have been born in the land of marvels. Monsieur le Comte, in his circulars, described himself as “General Inspector of the Supreme Council of Thibet.” He carried about with him a voluminous portfolio of papers containing “the numerous diplomas which he possessed as member of several orders of knighthood and of scientific and humanitarian associations.” He also exhibited a Masonic diploma of the Thirty-third degree, which bore the endorsement of all the Supreme Councils of the Rite to which he belonged in the countries through which he had traveled. But he was not a {255} Fellow of the Theosophical Society. On the contrary, he claimed to have been persecuted by the members of that Brotherhood; to have been frequently arrested and denounced by them as a pretender to the occult, as a false magician, etc., etc. The Count made his dÉbut in Washington, D. C, in the year 1902, where he founded one of his esoteric centers, described as follows in the organ of his cult, The Radiant Truth, of which he was editor-in-chief: “Oriental Esoteric Head Centre of the United States of America, under obedience to the Supreme Esoteric Council of the Initiates of Thibet. Social object: To form a chain of universal fraternity, based upon the purest Altruism, without hatred of sect, caste or color; in which reign tolerance, order, discipline, liberty, compassion and true love. To study the Occult Sciences of the Orient and to seek, by meditation, concentration and by a special line of conduct, to develop those psychic powers which are in man and his environment.” The Count also gave private sÉances, as we see by his advertisement in the above-named journal: “Science of Occultism, Double Vision, Telepathy, Astrology, Horoscopy, etc. Doctor Albert de Sarak, Count de Das, General Inspector of the Supreme Council of Thibet. “Office hours: 3 to 5 p. m. “Address, 1443 Corcoran Street, Washington, D. C.” Dr. Sarak’s first public exhibition of his alleged psychic powers is thus described in the Washington Post (March 16, 1902): “Dr. A. de Sarak, occultist and adept, a professor of the mystic and the sixth sense, gave a demonstration last night before a Washington audience. Several hundred persons gathered in the beautiful assembly hall of the House of the Temple of the Supreme Council, Southern Jurisdiction, 433 Third street, last evening, to witness his weird exhibition of occult powers. After three hours spent in the presence of the East Indian, the audience filed out with apparently something to think about and ponder. “Professor Sarak, while master of fourteen languages, does not speak fluently the English language. Last evening he spoke {256} in French, and a very charming young woman, also an adept, but of English birth, acted as his interpreter. The Easterner, a man of medium height, was attired in a gorgeous gown of white silk, across the breast of which hung certain mystic emblems of gold and silver. A loose, pale-yellow robe covered this garment during most of the evening. He wore a white turban. The adept wears a pointed black beard, which, with large, languid brown eyes, gave fully the effect that one expects in a student of the mystic schools of Thibet. “The interpreter stated that Professor de Sarak was born in Thibet and was descended from a noble French family. He had devoted his life, she said, to the study of the occult, first in the Thibetan schools and later with the ascetics hidden in the mountains. He had visited almost every country on the globe, spreading the occult science, which, she declared, some time would bring a rich harvest to all mankind. “As the professor finished his rapidly spoken French sentences the young woman translated them to the hearers. Dr. de Sarak described the sixth sense in man, saying that it was second-sight, a latent and undeveloped force. He said he merely wished to present the facts of his religion. He explained the wonderful fluid force that existed. He said it is the force that raised the huge stones in building the pyramids and is the same force that brings the bird from the egg, the force which gives man the power of rising as if filled with a buoyant gas, a power which can be concentrated in a tube. He stated that occultism was absolutely nothing but the powers of the will. “‘It is nothing supernatural,’ the doctor said, ‘but is merely the hastening of nature’s work.’ “A small table stood by a leather chair, and on this burned a tiny candle from the mouth of a brazen asp. The professor stood over the table and busied himself with a pungent incense in an odd burner. A glass plate, with a number of fish eggs, was shown and examined. A large glass bowl was filled with water, and one of the members of the audience was told to carefully brush the eggs into the water. In the meantime three men from the audience had with strong ropes securely bound {257} the hands of the adept behind his back as he sat in the chair. Broad, clean, white cloths were wrapped about the seated figure, leaving the head free, and the three men selected held the cloths in place. Music rolled from a deep organ, and the head of the adept sank back and a strange light appeared to cross his face. According to the directions of the interpreter the bowl of water containing the fish eggs was placed by one of the three beneath the cloths on the lap of the adept. “After a period of straining and soft moaning from the white-wrapped figure, for perhaps ten minutes, the cloths were removed, and from the lap of the apparently insensible man was lifted the bowl of water, but instead of the eggs which it contained a few moments before there swam about a dozen of tiny, new-born fish. “Dr. Sarak was then blindfolded with a half-dozen bandages pressing against absorbent cotton, which rested before the eyes. For a while he remained in his chair, while the vibrating tones of an organ filled the room. Then the adept suddenly arose and walked surely and steadily down the room, turning into narrow aisles through the audience as safely as a man might who had his sight. This experiment was to demonstrate double vision at a distance and through opaque bodies. A blank canvas stood on an easel near the adept. Apparently in a trance, he walked to the easel, mixed colors, and in ten minutes a finished picture was the result. A game of dominoes was played with a member of the audience, and previous to the beginning of the game the doctor wrote something on a bit of card and his assistant handed it to someone in the audience to keep. Blindfolded and standing, the adept played the game perfectly, and at the conclusion the card was found to contain the numbers of the last two dominoes played by both the adept and his opponent. “Experiments were given at the close in the disintegration and restoration of matter, of psychic perception, in which he aroused the wondering admiration of the audience.” {258} Not many months after this exhibition the Esoteric Centre was founded, and the following extraordinary circular sent out to prominent people in Washington:
The above circular was also signed by the President of the Directing Commission, the Secretary General and the seven Esoteric Members of the Council of the Order at Washington, the majority of them being women. I suppress their names. Possibly by this time they have repudiated Sarak and his absurd pretensions. I consulted with my friend, Mr. J. Elfreth Watkins, a clever journalist and interested inquirer into the methods of spiritists and occultists, and we decided to investigate Dr. Albert de Sarak, the Thibetan adept. Mr. Watkins was to go first and have an interview with him, with the idea of exploiting the Count in a newspaper article on modern magic and theosophy; eventually we were to attend one of the mystic’s sÉances together. I shall let Mr. Watkins tell the story in his own words: “I addressed a letter to Dr. Sarak by post requesting an appointment. I received a prompt response in the form of a courteous note, headed ‘Oriental Esoteric Center of Washington,’ and which commenced: ‘Your letter, which I have received, reveals to me a man of noble sentiments.’ An hour was named and the letter bore the signature, ‘Dr. A. Count de Sarak,’ beneath which were inscribed several Oriental characters. {261} “I found Monsieur le Comte’s house in Corcoran street, late in the appointed afternoon. It was a two-story cottage of yellow brick with English basement, and surmounting the door was an oval medallion repeating the inscription of Monsieur’s letterhead. A young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes responded to my ring. I was invited upstairs, she following. Before me was the mind picture of a Lama with yellowed and wrinkled visage, vested in folds of dingy red, with iron pencase at his side and counting the beads of a wooden rosary; a Yoge of the great hills; who should say to me, ‘Just is the wheel,’ or ‘Thou hast acquired merit.’ “I was directed to the door of the rear parlor on the main floor, and as I opened it there sat before me, at a modern roller-top desk, a man of slender build and medium height, but with one of the most striking physiognomies I have ever beheld. “The face was that of a sheik of the desert. The hair was of the blackest and so was the beard, sparse at the side but rather full in front and not long. The eyes were huge, languid and dreamy; the forehead, bared by the training of the hair straight back, was high and bisected by a vein falling vertically between prominences over the brows. The nose was strongly aquiline, and the complexion was more that of the Oriental than of the Latin. The man wore a long, black frock-coat of the mode and faultless in fit; his trousers and waistcoat were of a rough gray cloth. “Monsieur le Comte rose. The hand which grasped mine was small and soft. He bowed, pointed to a seat and apologized for his crude English, explaining that he preferred to talk to me through an interpreter. The young woman who had ushered me into the presence of Monsieur seated herself at his side and explained that, although ‘the doctor’ had mastered fourteen tongues, the English had been the most difficult of all for him to fathom. After a pause, Monsieur addressed me in French. The interpreter rolled her blue eyes slightly upward and assumed the gaze of one seeing far away into the sky, through the wall before her—an expression which she seldom changed during the entire interview. {262} “‘Through my power of second sight was revealed to me your mission before you arrived,’ was the interpretation. ‘And now that you come, a good spirit seems to attend you, and I know that you come as a friend. I assure you also that I welcome you as a friend.’ The translations were made a sentence at a time. “I assured Monsieur that this was deeply appreciated. “I asked him if it might be my good fortune to witness some of his esoteric manifestations, such as I had heard of his performing. “‘In the beginning,’ he continued, ‘I gave some public tests. But now I am engaged in the serious work of teaching, and my time is devoted entirely to the work. If Monsieur pleases, we would welcome his presence as an honorary member of our center. The diploma will cost him nothing. It is a rule of the center that none may attend except members. His diploma will entitle him to attend all our meetings as a spectator. We meet every Wednesday night.’ “‘All that we will require of Monsieur is that he endeavor to learn, and to describe what he sees with absolute truth.’ “‘I would ask M. le Docteur if he be a Buddhist,’ I said. The question was suggested by a picture of Buddha upon the wall before me. “‘Yes, Monsieur, I am a Buddhist, as are my masters in Thibet. Understand, however, that this is not a religion which I am here to teach, but a science—the science of the soul—which does not conflict with any religion. I simply demonstrate to them the powers which I have learned from my masters.’ “‘What is your opinion of Mme. Blavatsky?’ was asked. “‘She was a good person—what shall I say?—was good-hearted. She endeavored to enter Thibet, but was unsuccessful. None of the Theosophists have ever learned from my masters. While Mme. Blavatsky lived, however, the Theosophical Society seems to have worked in harmony. Now that she is dead, they are divided by hatred and ill-feeling. “‘Once when I was in Paris, the Theosophists, hearing that I was from Thibet, asked me to become an honorary member of their society, just as I invite you, Monsieur. I accepted {263} their diploma, as courtesy demanded. I attended a congress in Paris. One speaker mounted the tribune and stated that there was a gentleman from Thibet present who could vouch for their connection with the masters. I was a young man then—let me see—it was about seventeen years ago, but now the weight of fifty years hangs on my shoulders. My young blood boiled and I rushed to the tribune and denounced the statement as false. The Theosophists expelled me from their society—which I had never sought to enter,’ and here he shrugged his shoulders, ‘and since then, they have waged against me a relentless campaign of calumny. In Europe, in South America—everywhere—follows me a trail of circulars and letters published by base calumniators. But still I have gone on with my work, founding centers over the world. I have founded many in South America, but this is the first in this country.’ “I ventured to console the count with words to the effect that all great causes had grown out of persecution. When the interpreter translated these sentiments, Monsieur, who sat at his desk, assumed an expression of extreme pain and half closing his eyes fixed his gaze upon a strange instrument reposing upon the window sill. It was a piece of colored glass with a pebbled surface held upright by a metal support. The interpretation of my words was repeated, but Monsieur raised one finger, continuing his stare of mixed concentration and suffering. “‘He is now receiving an interpretation from his masters,’ the interpreter told me in a low voice. I did not notice it and interrupted him. The doctor maintained his weird stare for a few minutes, during which I heard from his corner of the room a vibrating sound such as is produced by a Faradic battery. Monsieur rose from his reverie with a sigh and hastily wrote something upon a sheet of paper upon his desk. Then he resumed the conversation. “‘Fortunately I have preserved extracts from all of the journals which have been friendly to me,’ he said. I was shown a shelf full of scrap-books and the translations of numerous clippings from foreign journals. One of these, credited to the Paris Figaro, 1885, described experiments in ‘Magnetism and Fascination’ performed by Dr. de Sarak before a committee of {264} scientists and journalists, during which he hypnotized a cage full of live lions. There were many such accounts, including a description of demonstrations made before the Queen of Spain in 1888; another before the King of Portugal the same year. An article credited to La RÉvue des Sciences de Paris, November 7, 1885, stated that in the Grand Salle de la Sorbonne, Count Sarak de Das, in the presence of the Prince of Larignans and 1,400 people, caused his body to rise in the air about two meters and to be there suspended by levitation. “It was agreed that my name should be presented to the council as suggested, and two days later I received a letter notifying me of my election as honorary member of the center, congratulating me thereupon and inviting me to be present at the next meeting. I was given the privilege of bringing a friend with me. I informed Mr. Evans, and we agreed to attend the next sÉance, and make careful mental notes of the events of the evening.” Mr. Watkins and I went together on the appointed evening to the house of the Mage, located in quaint little Corcoran street. It was a stormy night, late in November; just the sort of evening for a gathering of modern witches and wizards, in an up-to-date Walpurgis Nacht. We were admitted by the interpreter and secretary, whom I afterwards learned was Miss Agnes E. Marsland, graduate of the University of Cambridge, England. In the back parlor upstairs we were greeted by the Doctor, who wore a sort of Masonic collar of gold braid, upon which was embroidered a triangle. He presented us to his wife and child, who were conspicuously foreign in appearance, the latter about five years old. We were then introduced to an elderly woman, stout and with gray hair, who, we were told, was the president of the center. She wore a cordon similar to Dr. Sarak’s, and soon after our arrival she rapped with a small gavel upon a table, located in the bay window of the front drawing-room. When she called the meeting to order the Doctor seated himself upon her right, and at her left—all behind the table—were {265} placed two other women, wearing large gold badges. The interpreter seated herself against the wall beside the Count. Shortly a fifth woman appeared. The Count’s wife and child sat quietly upon a sofa in the corner behind him. In the seats arranged along the walls for the audience sat only myself, Mr. Watkins, and a reporter for the Washington Times. The mise en scÈne was well calculated to impress the spectators with a sense of the occult and the mysterious. The table was draped with a yellow cloth, upon which were embroidered various cabalistic symbols. Upon it stood an antique brazier for burning incense, and a bronze candelabra with wax lights arranged to form a triangle. Against the wall, just back of the presiding Mistress of Ceremonies and the little French Mage, was a niche containing a large gilt image of the Buddha, who smiled placidly and benignly at the strange gathering. The walls of the drawing-room were draped with rich Oriental rugs and hung with allegorical paintings. The faint aroma of incense soon permeated the atmosphere; there was a moment of profound silence while the thaumaturgist meditatively consulted a big volume in front of him—a work on mysticism by either Papus or Baraduc, I forget which. I closed my eyes drowsily. In imagination I was transported back into that dead past of the Eighteenth century. I was in Paris, at a certain gloomy mansion in the Rue St. Claude. I saw before me a table covered with a black cloth, embroidered with Masonic and Rosicrucian symbols; upon it stood a vase of water; lights burned in silver sconces; incense rose from an antique brazier. And behold—Cagliostro, necromancer and Egyptian Freemason, at his incantations. The phantasmagoria fades away. I am back again in Washington, and Sarak is speaking rapidly in French. I shall quote as follows from Mr. Watkins’ note-book: “The Doctor spoke of a membership of forty-two persons and his disappointment that only six were present. He then commenced in French a long discourse, citing the alleged experiments of Baraduc on the soul’s light, and mentioning the psychic researches of Flammarion. He stated that Marconi had made partial progress in the science of transmitting intelligence without wires, but that his masters had long known of a {266} more simple method. He described the failures of foreigners to penetrate into Thibet, stating that his masters there were able to place a fluidic wall before any man or beast. “The Doctor then passed into a rear room, donned a long robe of light blue material and returned with the piece of colored glass which I had seen during my previous visit. It was still flitted to the metal support, and with it he brought a bar magnet. He placed the glass upon the table before him, making many passes over it with his fingers, sometimes rubbing them upon his gown as if they were burned. He explained that he had sensitized the glass with a secret fluid which remained thereon as a film. He drew a sort of tripod upon paper and placed the glass and magnet alongside. “‘I demonstrated at the last meeting how this power—which I called ‘yud’—could be exerted against human beings. You remember that I caused the man to fall from his bicycle. Tonight I will exert the power against an animal,’ said the fantaisiste. “He stated that the lights would all be extinguished; that those present would be stationed at the front windows; that at a given signal he would cause a horse passing the street to halt and remain motionless, to the amazement of the driver. Turning to me, he asked, ‘Would Monsieur prefer that the horse be passing eastward or westward?’ ‘Eastward,’ I said. “Then the lights were put out, but previously his wife had retired, ostensibly to put to bed the boy, who had grown sleepy. All of the members present and the young man—a stranger, evidently a reporter—were posted at the front windows. My companion and I were stationed at two windows within a small hall room adjoining. We were all asked to maintain absolute silence. Vines covered both windows of our room and a street lamp burned before the house to our right. The wait was long, {267} probably twenty minutes, before the first vehicle ventured through the block. “It was a buggy, drawn by a single horse, but, alas! it proceeded westward. In it were seated two figures, whom I could not see—both enshrouded in darkness. “My impatience was now well nigh unbearable. In a few minutes, however, I heard the clatter of hoofs from the opposite direction—eastward. “A buggy with a single horse came into view. One figure wore a white fascinator or shawl about the head. The other was a man. The horse slowed into a walk just before reaching the house. It halted directly in front of us, then backed a few feet and the rear wheel went upon the sidewalk opposite. “‘What’s de mattah wid dat hoss?’ said a negro voice. ‘Nebber seen him act dat way befo’!’ The horse stood still for a minute; then the driver clucked him up and he proceeded on his way. It was too dark to see the positions of the reins or the features of either occupant of the vehicle. Soon afterward Madame de Sarak returned with the child and pointed toward him, as if to say: ‘See, he has recovered from his sleepy spell!’ “At this point the Doctor retired and returned gowned in white. He passed to us a canvas such as is commonly used by painters in oil. He placed this upon an easel. At his right was a table bearing brushes and two glasses filled, one with dark blue and the other with white paint. He then distributed large napkins among those present and handed to me two balls of absorbent cotton. These I was told to place over his eyes, and as I did so the two other men and several of the women bound the napkins over the cotton. They were tied very tightly and two were crossed. We inspected the bandages and pronounced them secure. Then the white-robed figure, in this grotesque headgear, asked me to lead him to an arm-chair in the far end of the rear apartment, which I did. Seated in the chair, his chin hanging down upon his breast, he remained for some time, until suddenly he arose and walked straightway to his wife and child, who were sitting behind the table in the front room, upon the sofa as previously. He knelt before them, kissed the little one, his back being toward us the while. Then he walked directly {268} to my companion and took the latter’s watch from his pocket without fumbling. He now proceeded to the easel, and, selecting a brush from the table, dipped into the blue paint and printed across the top of the canvas ‘Fifteen Minutes.’ I looked at my companion’s watch and it registered half past 10. Evidently the words denoted the time in which the picture was to be painted. One of the women present requested that a moonlight scene in Thibet be reproduced. Sudden movements of two brushes, dipped in the two colors, transformed the letters into a clouded sky through which a moon was bursting. Below was outlined a sort of tower, to the left of which was painted a tree. After some detail in the picture was outlined in blue, for example, the white paint would be applied in lines exactly parallel to the first, and many such touches of the brushes indicated that the painting was not made as the result of memory alone. Near the end of the painting the Doctor again approached his wife and child, leading the latter to the easel and placing him upon a chair before it. “The child was given a brush and dabbed paint upon various parts of the picture. Sometimes he seemed to be guiding his father’s hand, but during this operation the latter was not doing difficult work. All the while the adept was chanting something which the child repeated. The picture was signed with Oriental symbols placed in one corner. Then the painter made a gesture of great fatigue, sighed very audibly and staggered into the rear room. He fell upon a sofa near the door and motioned to have the bandages removed. I removed some, assisted by his wife, who brought him a glass of water. The cotton was in its place as far as I could see. His eyes remained closed after they were uncovered, and his attitude was that of a man who had fainted. His wife held the water to his lips, and then, lifting each of his eyelids, blew into them. Then the Mage arose and, complaining of fatigue, resumed his seat behind the table. Shading his eyes with his hand, he looked toward the canvas, saying: ‘Behold the house in Thibet where I was initiated into the mysteries of the Mahatmas.’ “After the exhibition of ‘double vision’ De Sarak performed the cigarette paper test. {269} “He concluded the sÉance with a brief speech, in which he stated that it was customary to take up a collection for charity at each meeting. A small cloth bag was passed by one of the women. The secretary announced that $1.62 had been realized. Then the president pounded with her gavel and adjourned the meeting. The secretary ushered us to the door, and we went out into the darkness. “Such were the miracles of the adept Albert de Sarak, Comte de Das, and such was his propaganda.” Is it not strange that people can take such performances seriously? The cigarette test—an old one—and familiar to every schoolboy who dabbles in legerdemain, was a mere trick, dependent upon clever substitution and palming. The absurd splatterdash which the Mage painted while blindfolded had nothing of Thibetan architecture about it, but resembled a ruined castle on the Rhine. That he was able to peep beneath his bandages at one stage of the proceedings seems to me evident. He perhaps arranged this while kissing and fondling the little child. Long practice, however, would enable him to paint roughly while his eyes were bandaged. The horse episode was of course a pre-arranged affair, yet I admit it was very well worked up and gave one a creepy feeling—thanks to the mise en scÉne. But the Comte de Sarak has other occult phenomena up his sleeve, which I have not yet witnessed—among them being the shattering of a pane of glass by pronouncing the words, “Forward, ever forward”; the instantaneous production of vegetation from the seed; and the immediate development of fish from spawn. He doubtless owes much of his notoriety to the newspapers, which herald his alleged feats of magic in sensational style. A few months after my sÉance at the adept’s house, the Washington papers announced the fact that the Count de Sarak, the famous magician, was projecting a personally conducted tour to the Orient for the members of his cult and all those who were {270} interested in occultism. The pilgrims were to visit the inaccessible shrines, pagodas, crypts, and lamaseries of the East, under the ciceronage of the Count, who doubtless was to break down for them by sheer force of will the fluidic barriers that surround Lhassa, Thibet, where dwell the Mahatmas, in order that the tourists might penetrate into the sacred city. I never heard of anybody leaving Washington to go on this expedition, except the Count—and he, I understand, got no farther than New York City, where the French table d’hÔte abounds, and magic and mystery are chiefly to be studied in the recipes of French chefs de cuisine. |
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