S05 Episode 7: A Man of Wealth and Taste

of his own death. Though we might not be demigods like Gilgamesh, his desperate refusal to accept the inevitability of his fate is a deeply human one, and something that many of us can sympathize with, whether we elect to place our hope in the promises of religious teachers or in the invention and imagination of our leading biogerontologists, those that study the mechanics of aging. There aren't many of us who haven't contemplated the possibility of existing forever in

one form or another. However, although some of us may want for it, being a mortal is rarely portrayed as something desirable, and at the very least as something that can only be achieved at a great cost, from the burdens of Cone McCloud in his pursuit to become the only remaining Highlander, to the pitiful efforts of Melmouth the Wanderer to convince another soul to take on his pack with the devil in return for another one hundred and fifty years of life. In fact, we take great pains

to dissuade ourselves from wanting it. Perhaps this is simply to provide some comfort in the face of such a futile desire, but it doesn't stop us trying back. In October this year, a team led by Tel Aviv University professor Shay Fratti published the results of an extraordinary study

in the journal Aging. The study, to determine the effect of pure oxygen on the aging process, involved placing thirty five adults over the age of sixty four in a hyperbaric chamber and giving them pure oxygen for ninety minutes a day, five days a week over the course of three months. Through this process, of Fratti's team found they were able to successfully limit the build up of senescent cells in the body, cells that have aged to the point where they can no longer replicate, leaving the bodies

susceptible to many age related diseases. Incredibly, not only did this delay the aging process, but actually reversed it. Aubrey De Gray, one of the best known biogerontologists, has long insisted that medical technology were one day allowers to control the aging process, even making the stunning claim as far back as two thousand and eight that the first person who lived to a thousand years old is already alive today.

There are some, however, who'd say that this person isn't just alive right now, but they've already lived to be over a thousand years old. You're listening to Unexplained, and I'm Richard McClane Smith. It was sometime in the seventeen seventies that Countess of Adama, Mary Antoinette's personal attendant, first met him. For her, it was his eyes that mosted out.

They were like nothing she'd ever seen before. His teeth, too, were immaculate, and all the more noticeable for being framed by such a thick head of luxuriant jet black hair. And though his clothes were simple, they were nonetheless made from the finest materials and decorated with the most exquisite jewelry. It was an appearance she assumed would be accompanied by

a certain steely, if not arrogant, countenance. However, when she finally plucked up the courage to approach him one afternoon at the court, though his stare was penetrating, so too was it soft and inviting. Despite everything the Countess had heard about the man, it was quite something to see him finally in the flesh, looking no more than forty

five years old. And yet it was back in seventeen forty three, over thirty years previously, that he'd first appeared mysteriously one day at the Palace of Versailles, home to King of France Louis the fifteenth, looking exactly the same age. For the Countess of Gergi meeting him around the same time,

the effect was even more stark. Fifty years earlier, when living in Venice with her husband, who was the French ambassador at the time, she'd been used to a man that looked nearly identical who went by the name of Marquis Belletti. Had it not been for the sheer number of intervening years, she would have sworn it was his double. The Countess was so taken by the similarities she was compelled to ask him if perhaps this Belletti character had

been his grandfather or another close relative. Perhaps. The man simply smiled and congratulated the Countess on the solidity of her memory, for it was not his grandfather at all, but himself, who had been traveling under a different name at the time. But it couldn't be thought, the Countess, realizing as she drew a little closer to him, that it was indeed the man she'd met in Venice all those years ago. If anything, he even looked a little

younger than he had back then. The man, as it turned out, had been known by many names over the years, but there was one for which he will forever be known, the Count of Saint Germain. It's not known exactly when the Count of Saint Germain first arrived at the Palace of the Psailles, only that he arrived a complete stranger,

but left the talk of French upper class society. A keen conversationalist, he was said to be immeasurably knowledgeable about everything from politics and philosophy to art and the sciences, but also fluent in nine languages, including Italian, Sanskrit and Chinese, as well as being, according to some amongst the finest musicians of the day. But it was his apparent expertise and restoring jewels that first brought him to the attention

of King Louis the fifteenth. In one instance, the Count was invited to fix a flawed diamond for the king. Having taken up the offer, he returned a month later and present of the King with his fixed diamond. Not only was the floor removed, but the diamond was now somehow even bigger than it had been before. The royal jeweler, who inspected it soon afterwards, declared that whatever the mysterious Count had done to it had increased its worth by

fifty percent. Soon rumors began to circulate about the true nature of this mysterious count. Some declared him a charlatan, others that he was some kind of magician and expert alchemist who had even succeeded in discovering the Philosopher's Stone, the fabled substance that could turn base metals into gold and bestow those who knew its secret with the gift

of immortality. Within a year, the Count of Saint Germain had become so trusted by King Louis the fifteenth that, when in December seventeen forty four, his mistress, the Duchess of Chateaurouse, lay dying from a suspected poisoning, it was allegedly to the out that the King turned for help. It isn't known exactly why the King would think san gimin capable of it. Nonetheless, he has said to have

begged him to make an antidote to cure the duchess. However, the Count declined, saying that it was sadly too late to help. Many years later, when the Countess of Adamar asked him why he didn't do it, the Count replied coolly that had he done what the King asked, he would have been called on by each and any person hoping to save the life of a loved one every

time they got sick. It was a responsibility that he could not bear, implying that although he was perfectly capable of holding sway over death, it would be simply impossible for him to save everybody. Do you ever have trouble sleeping, one especially spooky podcast keeping you up all night perhaps? Do you ever worry that you aren't getting all the

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greens dot com slash unexplained. Strangely, for a man of such obvious renown, there exists little by way of letters, articles, or memoir certifiably written by the count himself, leading some to speculate as to whether he was even real at all.

What we do have are a tantalizing array of brief encounters and momentary glimpses of the man as he crops up in the most unexpected places, and often in times of huge political significance, And so, like temper or detectives, we are left with only these scraps and snippets with which to give form to this most mystifying of individuals.

The year after he is said to have first ingratiated himself with King Louis the fifteenth, him appearing suddenly in England in the midst of the Jacobite Rising, as the recently deposed House of Stuart attempted to regain control of the British throne. A letter written by Horace Walpole, author of The Castle of Otranto, considered to be the first Gothic novel, gives this account. The other day they seized an odd man who goes by the name of Count

Saint Germain. He's been here these two years and will not tell who he is or where he is from, but professes that he does not go by his real name. He sings, plays on the violin wonderfully composes, is mad and not very sensible. The Prince of Wales has had unsatiated curiosity about him, but in vain. The letter was written after the Count had been arrested when he was found to be carrying a note allegedly from Charles Edward Stuart, head of the House of Stuart, thanking him for his

help in trying to secure the throne. What exactly brought the count to England, like much of what we know of his life, is unclear. What is known, however, is that two arias written by him were featured in an opera performed at the Haymarket Theater in London earlier that year. The pieces of music, along with roughly forty more Italian arias, seven solos for the violin, and a collection of English songs can be found in the Classical Music archives at

the British Library. As musical historian Charles Burney wrote in his seventeen eighty nine book A General History of Music, an opera was attempted on April the seventh of the Little Theater in the Haymarket under the direction of Geminiani Prince Labkowitz, who was at this time in London and fond of music, and the celebrated and mysterious Count Saint

Germain attended all the rehearsals. Perhaps this is simply more evidence of the high regard with which the count's musical talent was held, and yet it remains unusual that a man of which so little has been recorded would have his work performed in this manner. Things only become more intriguing when we take into account an unusual mural that was painted at the home of Johann Jacob Heidegger, once

manager of the renowned King's Theater in London. Heidegger bought the property in seventeen forty four and had several murals of Swiss and Italian landscapes painted throughout it, and over one doorway still existing today, forming part of the mural, you'll find the painting of a book open on a piece of music written by none other than San German. The book also happens to be surrounded by a wreath

of acanthus a symbol of immortality. Heidegger's painting has led some to speculate that there was a little more to the Count's music than met the ear, that he'd buried all his magical secrets within it. One of the few letters attributed to the Count of Saint German places him in India in seventeen fifty five. It is there that he claims to have learned his peculiar talent for restoring jewels, although details of what he learnt exactly are teasingly absent.

As was ever the case, it wasn't merely a solitary trip of self discovery, but one spent in the company of Lieutenant Colonel Robert Clive, who was busy laying the foundations of the British Empire in India at the time. In seventeen fifty eight, we find a tantalizing mention of the Count in a letter written by Voltaire, one of the most brilliant writers and thinkers of the day, describing him as the man who does not die and who

knows everything. And then five years later this from Austrian politician, Count Carl von Kourbenzel to the State Chancellor of the Hasburg Empire Anton. It was about three months ago that the person known by the name of the Count of Saint German passed this way and came to see me. I found him the most singular man that I've ever saw in my life. I do not yet precisely know his birth. I believe, however, that he is the son of a clandestine union in a powerful and illustrious family,

possessing great wealth. He lives in the greatest simplicity. He knows everything and shows an uprightness, a goodness of soul worthy of admiration. Among a number of his accomplishments, he made under my own eyes, some experiments of which the most important were the transmutation of iron into a metal as beautiful as gold and at least as good. The Count was traveling under the name of Monsieur Zermont at the time. In the same year, famed philanderer Giacomo Casanova

aimed to also have met the man. Then, in seventeen seventy, the Count was allegedly spotted in the port of Livorno in Italy, dressed in a Russian naval uniform, going by the name of Count Soltikoff. There he was said to have stood shoulder to shoulder with Count Alexis all Off, one of Russia's leading naval commanders at the time, who would soon after oversee the destruction of more or less

the entire Turkish navy at the Battle of Kesma. The arrival of the Russian fleet at Livorno is considered by many to be the day that Russia announced itself on the world stage as a substantial political power in the affairs of Europe, the Count appearing once again to be at the very center of the most pivotal moments in European politics. Rosemary Kent, a woman who lives on the edge of the infamous Black Hills Forest, needs your help to find her missing son. But to find him you

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up until the holidays. Right now, you can go to hunter Killer dot com, forward slash unexplained and use code Unexplained for twenty percent of your first box. Again, make sure to use code Unexplained for a twenty percent discount. When the count returned to France in seventeen seventy, he was introduced to the Countess of Adamar for the first time, writing in her memoirs years later, she described a royal dinner which Sant German attended, as was his custom. The

Count ate nothing. In fact, it is said that no one ever saw him eat, despite the numerous meals and sophisticated engagements he attended. Instead, he preferred merely to regale the guests with his bizarre and unusual anecdotes. On this night, he spoke at the time, he was introduced to a man referred to only as Count R, who was on

the verge of death when they first met. His perilous condition, according to Sant German, was the result of a terrifying haunting he'd been suffering at the hands of a woman he'd inadvertently resurrected and then spurned. Every night, at midnight, the ghost and its rotting body would arrive in his bedroom and crawl into his bed, before vanishing in the morning.

As Saint German explained, knowing the powers he had at his disposal, he had little choice but to try and help the hapless Count R, and so it was soon after that Saint Germain arrived at the man's home at a quarter to midnight. Having placed seven lit candles around the sitting room, He traced out a triangle surrounded by a circle on the floor, one shape to act as a gateway to the other realm, the other to protect

him from whatever might appear. He then ordered Count Ar into the middle and warned him not to leave under any circumstances. For the next ten minutes, they waited in complete silence under the flickering light of the candles, until the clock struck midnight and the door flew open to reveal standing in the doorway the terrifying specter that had

been haunting the man so terribly. But it was the next bit that most shocked the guests, when Saint German claimed to have used the Rod of Moses to dispense with the foul smelling creature. The rod, he claimed, had been given to him by a great great grandchild of Moses back when he was living in the city of Babylon during the reign of Cyrus. If true, this would have placed him there at some time in the sixth

century BC. At one point, he turned to his assistant Roge for help in recollecting another of his anecdotes, to which Roget replied, you forget master, that I've only been with you for five hundred years. Perhaps it is my predecessor that you're thinking of in the official account, as far as any such thing could be said to exist. In seventeen seventy nine, Count Saint Germain is said to have arrived in Altona formerly of the Duchy of Schleiswig

but now part of Hamburg in Germany. There he was taken in by Prince Charles of Hesse Cassel, well known for his interest in the occult and a member of a number of secret societies. The Prince was so impressed by the Count's talent for alchemy he installed a laboratory

for him in which to conduct his experiments. In a letter written by the Prince in eighteen twenty five, he claimed that Saint Germain confided in him that, despite all the rumors, he was in fact only eighty eighty years old when they first met, and that he was the son of Prince Francis Ragotzi of Transylvania. The Prince, who was under threat at the time, had apparently sent his son away as a young boy to be raised by

the wealthy Medici family in Italy. The claim has never been verified, though the Count was known on occasion to travel under the name Zaroggi, an anagram of Rgottsi. It is said that the Count died in February seventeen eighty four at the residence given to him by Prince Charles of Hesse Cassel. He was buried the following month at Nikolai Church in Eckenford, on the coast of the Baltic Sea. The Count's estate on his death was said to include little more than a packet of paid and receiated bills

and a small amount of money. Also, some might have it four years later, the Count of Chalon, an acquaintance of the Countess of Adama, was walking through San Marco Square in Venice, when the sight of a familiar face stopped him in his tracks. Recalling the moment to the Countess not long afterwards, he could have sworn it was

the Count of Saint German that he'd seen. It would be almost a hundred years later when journalist and writer Albert Dresden Van Dame published his book An Englishman in Paris. The book detailed Van Dam's time spent socializing in the cafes and bars of Paris from eighteen fifty five to eighteen seventy, and the many interesting bohemian characters that he met there. The account of one such character makes for

some startling reading. Major Fraser, though he never dined there, spent an hour or two daily in the estaminais de Divan to read the papers. He was a great favorite with everyone, though none of us knew anything about his background. In spite of his English name, he was decidedly not English, though he spoke the language. He was one of the best dressed men of the period, and a bachelor. He

never alluded to his parentage and lived by himself. He was always flush of money, though the sources of his income were a mystery to every one. He rarely spoke on the subject of politics, but when he did, every one sat listening with the raptest attention, for he was a perfect mine of facts. His knowledge of political history was as nothing to his familiarity with the social institutions

of every civilized country and of every period. His memory was something prodigious, and even men like Dumars and Balzac confessed themselves his inferiors in that respect. Strange to say, he often used to hint that this was no mere book knowledge. Of course, it is perfectly ridiculous. He remarked with a strange smile. But every now and again I feel as if all this did not come to me

through reading, but from personal experience. At times I become almost convinced that I lived with Nero and that I knew Dante personally. When Major Fraser died, not a single letter was found in his apartment, giving a clue to his antecedence, merely a file of receipts and a scrap of paper detailing his last wishes. His clothes and furniture were to be sold and the proceeds to be given to the Paris Poor. If you enjoy Unexplained and would like to help support us, you can now do so

via Patreon. To receive access to add three episodes, just go to patron dot com, forward Slash Unexplained Pod to sign up, or if you'd like to make a one time donation, you can go to Unexplained podcast dot com Forward Slash Support. All donations, no matter how large or small, are greatly appreciated. Unexplained. The book and audiobook, featuring ten stories that have never before been covered on the show, is now available to buy worldwide. You can purchase Amazon,

Barnes and Noble and Waterstones, among other bookstores. All elements of Unexplained, including the show's music, are produced by me Richard McClain smith. Please subscribe and rate the show wherever you listen to podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of

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