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Leo Taxil Original
Posters
The most interesting of these two posters is
titled "The mysteries of Freemasonry revealed", it is very hard to find and is a
true collector's piece. It bears a stamp dated 1886. It measures is 50 x 36 inches.
Pictured above is
the cover of French hoaxer Leo Taxil's book, Les mysteres de la Franc-Maconnerie
(The Mysteries of Freemasonry), was published in several languages.
Bogus
representations of Masonic rituals, including blood sacrifice and devil worship,
as depicted in these illustrations of a Taxil text, became a common element in
caricatures and attacks on Freemasonry.
THE CONFESSION
OF LEO TAXIL
Translated from Le Frondeur, April 25, 1897
by
Alain
Bernheim, A. William Samii, and Eric Serejski
Reprinted
from Heredom
The Transactions of the
Scottish Rite Research Society
vol. 5, 1996, pp. 137-168
(c) 1997
Scottish Rite Research Society
All Rights Reserved
1733 16 St., N.W., Washington, DC 20009-3103
***
INTRODUCTION
A good practical joke can
produce weeks of laughter; a grand joke is retold as the centerpiece of later
get-togethers; a few jokes be-come legendary. Gabriel Jogand-Pages, better known
as Leo Taxil, played a legendary practical joke a century ago. He chose to
ridicule the Roman Catholic Church's credulity about Freemasonry, and he seemed
to have thought it all good fun. On April 19, 1897, Taxil confessed everything
at a public meeting in Paris. His confession, however, hasn't stopped
anti-Masons from rediscovering the hoax and reusing it to attack the Craft.
Monsieur Taxil, like Dr. Frankenstein, could not foresee what his creation would
do.
A transcript of Taxil's confession was published
in the weekly Parisian newspaper, Le Frondeur, on April 25, 1897. It is a long,
rambling speech that has never been published in English until now. Taxil's
confession is both amusing and appalling and gives the reader a glimpse of the
magnitude of his deceit. This translation represents many hours of tedious work
by three ardent students of masonry. Taxil's text is colloquial and
ungrammatical in many places, as well as being a verbal presentation. The
translators have tried to be faithful to the original format while producing a
readable text. Headings and subheading have been added to help readability. No
other changes have been made in the text.
It is a sad commentary on the intellectual
integrity of Freemasonry's enemies that they continue to regurgitate Taxil's
hoax with such zeal. A bibliography of anti-Masonic uses of this hoax is
appended to this translation together with a bibliography of explanations of how
Taxil duped the enemies of Masonry.
S. Brent Morris
Editor, Heredom
The
Confession of Leo Taxil
Le Froundeur, April 25, 1897
Twelve Years
Under the Banner of the Church
THE
PRANK OF PALLADISM
MISS
DIANA VAUGHAN--THE DEVIL AT THE FREEMASONS
A Conference
held by M. Leo TAXIL
at the Hall of the Geographic Society in Paris
With more or less impartiality, all newspapers
reported the memorable evening at the Geographic Society on April 19. We thought
the best thing to do was to reproduce the full text of M. Leo Taxil's
conference.
Let us say first that the very numerous audience
consisted mainly of press representatives from various countries and of all
opinions, many priests, monks, very many ladies, some free-thinkers, some
freemasons. The nunciature had sent two delegates; the archdiocese was also
represented. Entrance was free, but one could get in only by showing nominal
invitation cards which had been sent one month in advance.
First thing in the evening, a splendid typewriter
offered by Miss Diana Vaughan was raffled. Its lucky winner was M. Ali Kental,
Editor of the Ikdam, at Constantinople.
Then M. Leo Taxil addressed the audience:
My Reverend Fathers,
Ladies,
Gentlemen,
First of all, it is appropriate to convey some
thanks to those of my colleagues of the Catholic press who-suddenly undertaking
a campaign of vociferous attacks six or seven months ago-produced a marvelous
result; we already witness it tonight and tomorrow will witness it even better,
I mean the quite exceptional explosion of the manifestation of truth in a
question whose solution might possibly have passed completely unnoticed without
them.
To these dear colleagues, accordingly, my first
congratulations! And they will understand in a moment how much these thanks are
sincere and justified.
This evening, I shall strive to forget all the
unjust and offensive things which have been published against me during the
polemic I just mentioned. Or, at any rate, if I come to elucidate specific facts
in a way unexpected for many, I shall merely tell the truth, setting aside the
very shadow of the lightest resentment from my thoughts.
After the explanations whose time has come at
last, maybe these Catholic colleagues will not disarm before my peaceful
philosophy. However, should my good dispositions annoy them instead of calming
them down, I assure them that nothing will induce me to set aside the equanimity
I acquired over the last twelve years and which makes me infinitely happy.
Besides, if this exceptional audience is truly
made of the most disparate elements-since all opinions were indiscriminately
invited-, nevertheless I am convinced that this audience is possessed of the
sweetest tolerance, as far as survey is concerned. To call things by their
proper name:
we are here among well-educated people. All of us
are all able to make allowance for what is earnest and to take it under
consideration with the required seriousness and without passion. However when a
fact submitted to us is above all on the witty side, we do not get excited
either.
Better to laugh than cry, as the nations' wisdom
goes.
THE PRANK OUTLINED
Now, I address myself to the Catholics.
I tell them: --When you were told that Doctor
Bataille, pretending to be devoted to the Catholic cause, spent eleven years of
his life exploring the darkest dens of secret societies, Lodges and
Back-Lodges,[1] and even luciferian Triangles, you fully approved him, you found
his behavior admirable. He was overwhelmed with congratulations. Laudatory
articles were written even in the publications of the party which, today, can't
hurl enough thunderbolts to reduce Miss Diana Vaughan to ashes, here calling her
a myth, there an adventuress and a fortune-teller.
Should the cheers which greeted Doctor Bataille
be now reconsidered, they existed nonetheless and were thunderous. Illustrious
theologians, eloquent preachers, eminent prelates congratulated him, each louder
than the other. And I do not say they were wrong.
I merely and simply determine a fact.
And the purpose of this determination is to allow
me to say forthrightly:
"Do not get angry, my reverend fathers, but do
laugh heartily when you are told now that what did happen is the very opposite
of what you expected. There wasn't the shadow of a dedicated Catholic exploring
the High-Masonry of Palladism under a false nose. But, on the contrary, there
has been a free-thinker who, for his own edification, not because of any
hostility, came into your camp and strolled, not during eleven years but during
twelve, and ... it is your servant." (Various reactions: murmuring, laughter).
There wasn't the least masonic plot in this
story, which I shall prove to you shortly. We must leave to Homer, singing the
exploits of Ulysses, the adventure of the legendary Trojan Horse; that
formidable horse has nothing to do in this case. Today's tale is much less
intricate.
Your servant told himself once that having gone
for irreligion too young and possibly with much too much spirit, it was well
possible that he might not be aware of the true situation. Then, not acting in
anybody's name, willing to change his mind if there were reasons to do so,
entrusting no one at first with his decision, he thought he had found the means
of knowing better, of ascertaining better, for his own instruction.
Add to this, if you wish, a touch of prank at the
back of his temper--he wasn't born in Marseille in vain![2] (Laughter) --Yes,
add the lovely pleasure, that most people ignore but which is quite real, the
intimate joy of playing a good turn on an opponent, without malice, just for fun
and to have some laughs.
Well, I must say so at once, this twelve-year
long prank taught me something valuable from the start, namely that I had acted
without moderation indeed, that I should have better stayed on the ground of
ideas, and that in most cases, it had been a mistake to make personal attacks.
I feel bound to make such a statement and I also
admit that I make it easily. During these twelve years spent under the banner of
the Church and although I registered as a prankster, I realized how wrong it is
to impute the malice of some people to doctrines. It results from mankind
itself. A bad man remains bad, just like a good man acts with goodness, whether
he keeps his faith or loses it. Dishonest people as well as honest ones are
found everywhere. (Marks of approval).
Accordingly, I made for myself a study which has
born fruit. That study gave me the equanimity, the inner philosophy mentioned
before.
I came at first as a curious person, a bit at
random,--but of course intending to withdraw once the experience had come to its
end.--Then, the sweet pleasure of pranking took over, overwhelming everything, I
lingered in the Catholic camp, gradually developing my plan of an altogether
amusing and instructive mystification, and giving it ever broader proportions as
things went along.
In the course of time, I happened to secure two
collaborators, not more than two: one was a fellow I knew since childhood, whom
I took at first for a ride and to whom I ascribed the pseudonym of Dr. Bataille;
the other was Miss Diana Vaughan, a French Protestant, rather on the
free-thinking side, a professional typist and the representative of one of the
typewriter manufacturers in the United States. I needed both to achieve the
success of the last episode of this joyful prank, which American newspapers call
"the biggest hoax of modern times." (Many laughs. Murmurs.)
THE ORIGINS OF A
PRANKSTER
Of course, this last episode had to end in April,
the month of gaiety, the month of pranks, --and let us not forget that the hoax
also started in April, on April 23, 1885, --this last episode is the only one
which has to be explained today, though in broad terms only; because if
everything was to be told and secret aspects disclosed from the start, it would
take many days. This April Fools catch brought home a gigantic whale. (Explosion
of laughter.)
However, it is necessary to illuminate the
starting point with a few rays of gentle light.
Among the maxims of the culinary art, an
often-quoted one says: "One becomes cook, but one is born a roaster." Perfection
in the science of roasting cannot be learned. I believe the same can be said of
pranksterism: one is born a prankster.
Here are some admissions concerning my outset in
this noble career:
THE SHARKS OF
MARSEILLES
Let us begin with my native town. In Marseille,
nobody has forgotten the celebrated story of the coves ravaged by a school of
sharks. Letters from local fishermen describing their escape from the most awful
dangers began to flow in. Panic spread among swimmers, and beaches were deserted
for several weeks from les Catalans to the Prado beach. The municipal Commission
felt upset; the mayor suggested, quite judiciously, that the sharks, plague of
the coves, likely came from Corsica, following a ship which, no doubt, must had
thrown overboard a spoiled cargo of smoked meat. The municipal Commission voted
an address to General Espivent de la Villeboisnet-martial law was then in
force-requesting a company armed with Chassepot-rifles for an expedition on a
tugboat. The worthy general, only wanting to please the administrators he had
picked out himself for the dear and good city where I was born (Laughter),
General Espivent, presently a senator, thus granted one hundred well-armed men,
with an ample stock of ammunition. The rescuing ship left the harbor under the
cheers of the mayor and his deputies, coves were explored in all directions, but
the tugboat returned empty-handed; no more sharks than here in this room!
(General laughter) A later inquiry showed all letters of complaint from various
local fishermen to be fanciful. Such fishermen did not exist in the localities
where these letters were posted; and once the letters were collected, one
noticed that they all seemed to have been written by the same hand. The author
of the hoax was not found out. Here he stands before you. All this happened in
1873; I was then nineteen years old.
I do hope that General Espivent will forgive me
for having once compromised his prestige in the eyes of the population with a
prank. He had suppressed my paper, La Marotte, journal des fous.[3] The stuff
about the sharks was a most harmless vengeance, wasn't it?
THE UNDERWATER CITY
Some years later, I was in Geneva, absconding
from a few press sentences. In the mean time, La Fronde , then Le Frondeur,[4]
succeeded La Marotte. One fine day, the scientific world was thrilled to hear of
a wonderful discovery. Someone in the audience may remember what it was about:
an underwater city was said to have been perceived rather confusedly on the
bottom of Lake Geneva between Nyon and Coppet. Letters were dispatched to the
four corners of Europe, keeping the papers informed of the alleged searches.
They relied upon a most scientific explanation founded upon the Commentaries of
Julius Caesar: this city must have been built during the Roman conquest, at a
time when the lake was so narrow that the Rhone traversed it without disturbing
its waters. Well, the discovery made lots of noise everywhere-everywhere, except
of course in Switzerland. The inhabitants of Nyon and Coppet were not a little
astounded when tourists, arriving every now and then, asked to see the
underwater city. The local boatmen ended by resolving to take the most insistent
ones on the Lake. Oil was spread over the water in order to see better and,
indeed, there were some who did manage to perceive something.... (General
laughter) remnants of streets rather well set in a line, crossings, what do I
know? A Polish archaeologist who made the trip, returned contented and issued a
report in which he asserted he had very well recognized the remainder of a place
in the middle of which a nondescript object might well be the remnant of an
equestrian statue. An Institute delegated two of its members; but upon their
arrival, they got in touch with the authorities and being told that the
underwater city was a pure humbug, they returned from whence they came and,
alas, did not see anything!
The underwater city did not survive their
scientific proceedings (Prolonged laughter). The father of the city under the
Lake of Geneva-presently speaking-had a precious auxiliary for the spreading of
the legend in the person of one of his fellow exiles-it is hardly necessary to
stress that he too was born in Marseilles-, my colleague and friend Henry
Chabrier, presently residing on the borders of the Seine, just as I am. Both
anecdotes, among a hundred that I might quote, are told merely to assert that
your servant's inclination for great and joyous pranks goes back more than
twelve years ago.
THE MOST GRANDIOSE
PRANK
I come now to the most grandiose prank of my
existence. It comes to an end today and will evidently be the last because,
after this, I doubt whether any colleague, even belonging to the Icelandic or
Patagonia press, would confidently accept the report of any extraordinary event
upon my recommendation or that of one of my friends!... (A voice: Obviously!
--Laughter.)
One will easily understand that the formidable
fame of my irreligious writings didn't make it easy for me to be accepted in the
bosom of the Church without being met with an even more formidable mistrust. I
needed, however, to get there and to be greeted, so that once the mistrust had
faded away completely, at least in high quarters, I could organize and lead the
prodigious prank of contemporary devilry. (A voice: Distasteful! How can one
admit to being such a prankster?)
In order to reach the goal I had set to myself,
it was necessary, indispensable, to entrust no one with my secret, absolutely no
one, not even my most intimate friends, not even my wife, at least in the
beginning. It was better to be deemed to have turned crazy in the eyes of those
who approached me. The least indiscretion could ruin everything. And I was
playing for high stakes because I faced a powerful opponent. (A voice: Oh! yes!)
On the contrary, the hostility of some, the saddened and vexed annoyance of
others, were my best trumps since-as was to be expected-I was set under close
scrutiny during the first years.
Nevertheless, a few particulars will strike a
bell for my old friends if I recall them now.
EXPULSION FROM THE
ANTICLERICAL LEAGUE
Thus, after the publication of the letter in
which I disowned all my former irreligious writings, the Parisian groups of the
Anticlerical League gathered in a general assembly to vote upon my expulsion.
People were surprised to see me arrive there; the Leaguers were baffled, and my
presence was incomprehensible indeed, since I had not come to defy those from
whom I seceded, and didn't say a word either to try and gain them over, as a
convert would have done in his neophyte's fervor. No! I came to the meeting
under the pretense of making my farewells-though having demitted for more than
three months!-but in fact in order to seek and find the opportunity to place a
word I could remind them of later, when time would be ripe.
Most of these anticlerical leaguers were my
friends. Some of them cried and I was moved myself....
A Catholic journalist: You, moved?... Come on
now!... You made fun of them like you make fun of us!
M. Leo Taxil--I assure you that I was not taking
leave from them unconcerned. Well, take it as you wish. Though I felt affected,
I kept cool in the middle of a true tempest; I refer you to contemporary
newspapers.
In order to close the meeting, the president
submitted the following resolution which was agreed upon through an unanimous
vote:
Considering that the individual named Gabriel
Jogand-PagŠs, called Leo Taxil, one of the founders of the Anticlerical League,
has disowned all the principles he stood up for, has betrayed free-thinking and
all his fellow-antibelievers:
The leaguers attending the meeting of July 27,
1885, without taking into consideration the motives which dictated such an
infamous behavior to the individual named Leo Taxil, expel him from the
Anticlerical League as a traitor and renegade.
I objected then against one word, one single word
of that resolution.
Presumably, old friends who attended the July
1885 meeting are in this room. I shall remind them of the formulation of my
protest.
I said the following in a most peaceful voice:
"-My friends, I accept this resolution, except
one word...."
The president interrupted me and exclaimed:
"-Indeed, this is cheeky!"
I kept on undisturbed:
"-You have the right to say that I am a renegade,
since I just published, four days ago, a letter in which I expressly retracted
and disowned all my writings against religion. But I beg you to cross out the
word traitor which in no ways applies to my case; there is not the shadow of
treason in what I do today. What I tell you here, you cannot understand at the
present moment; but you shall understand it later."
I refrained from putting too much insistence on
this last sentence, because I could not let them get suspicious of my secret.
But I said it clearly enough so that it would stick in their memories, though it
laid itself open to various interpretations.
And, when I had the opportunity to issue a report
of that meeting, I took great care to omit this declaration which indeed could
have put people on their guards.
FAITHFUL FRIENDS
Second fact. Between the day in April when I came
to a priest and trusted him with my conversion, and the day of the meeting when
I was expelled from the free-thinkers, an anticlerical congress took place in
Rome, of which I had been one of the organizers. Nothing was easier for me than
to disorganize it and to make it fail completely. This congress took place in
the first days of June. All the leaguers know that, until the end, I devoted all
my strength for its success; only the death of Victor Hugo, which happened at
that time, turned public attention from this congress.
Later, when it was learned that since April I had
seen priests again, it was said and printed that, under the pretense of this
congress, I had gone to Rome to negotiate my betrayal and was received secretly
at the Vatican. It was even inserted in my biography that I was given a large
sum, it was said "one million." (Laughter)
I let it go because I didn't care much and
laughed inside myself.
But today I have the right to say that things
were quite different. Amongst the guests of the present evening, there is an old
friend who made the trip with me, who accompanied me everywhere, who did not
leave me for a minute. He is here and will not contradict me. Did he leave me a
minute? Did I leave him to undertake anything suspicious: No!
This is not all. During the same trip, while
returning to France, we stopped in Genoa. I insisted on visiting someone with
whom I was bound by friendship: general Canzio-Garibaldi, Garibaldi's
son-in-law.
During this visit, I was accompanied by the
friend I just mentioned and another one, he is still alive, was with us: Doctor
Baudon who was recently elected Deputy of Beauvais.
Both can testify to the fact that during the
visit, I withdrew one moment aside with Canzio. And then Canzio can testify to
what I told him:
"-My dear Canzio, I have to tell you, under the
seal of secrecy, that in a short while, I shall make a complete and public
break. Be surprised at nothing, and keep your trust in me in your heart."
I did not insist much with him either, and later
I was even afraid of having said too much. For the next two or three years,
Canzio sent me his card on New Year's Day, in spite of our break. Then, likely
estimating that things took too much time, he must have gotten tired and stopped
manifesting himself.
Lastly, one of my former co-workers who liked me
a lot, kept on seeing me in spite of everything. He is now dead: his name was
Alfred Paulon, a former magistrate.[5]
A voice: He is dead! So he won't disown you.
Please wait. I know that through his shrewd and
constant observation, he reached the conclusion that I was hoaxing people.
(Various reactions.)
A voice: Then you boast about deceiving
Catholics!... It's a scandal!
M. Leo Taxil --Paulon, my former co-worker who
kept on associating with me, had a way of defending me which was often in my
way.
This is what he said of me to his friends: "Leo
is hard to get. I thought first that he had turned crazy but when I resumed
relations with him, I noticed on the contrary that he is in full possession of
his mental faculties. I don't get it: something tells me he is still with us in
his heart and mind; I can feel it. I never touch religious matters with him,
because I noticed he doesn't want to let the cat out of the bag, but I would
stake my life on it, he does not work for the clerics; one of these days, we
shall have a big surprise."
Alfred Paulon cannot testify to what he noticed;
but he mentioned it to many friends. And if there are any in this room, I ask
them: "Is it true that when he spoke of me, Paulon expressed himself that way?"
Various voices. --It's true! It's true!
***
PENANCE AND CONFESSION
Let's now come to the hoax itself, to this funny
as well as instructive hoax. In high quarters, they did not rely upon that good
man of a vicar, a priest with a simple soul, to whom I confided how I had been
struck by grace, like Saul on the road to Damascus.
"This block covered with flour somehow looks
suspicious,"[6] it was thought among the "big hats" of the church. (Laughter)
Accordingly, it was decided that the day after my
letter of retraction, they would let me make a good little retreat at the
reverend Jesuit fathers' house, and one of the most expert ones in the art of
turning over souls and searching them was picked out to take care of me. The
choice was not made immediately. They let me wait a good week for the great
searcher who was to be my lot.
He turned out to be a former military chaplain
who became a Jesuit, a sly one among the sly! His appreciation was to be
weighty.
Ah! It was a tough game that the two of us
played!... I still have a headache when I think of it.... Among other things,
the dear director made me practice the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. I
thought little of these exercises, but at least I had to skim through the pages,
so as to look as if I had gone deeply into these extraordinary meditations. It
was not the right time to be caught.
My general confession let me win the battle. This
general confession did not last less than three days. (Prolonged laughter) My
last crushing blow came at the end of it.
I said everything, this, that, and other things,
but my partner[7] suspected there was a further big sin, very big, very big,
which was hard to confess, a sin more painful to come out with than the
admission of thousands and thousands of impieties.
At last, it had to come out, this monstrous sin.
Ladies and gentlemen, I don't want to keep you
waiting as long as he had to: my big sin was a murder, a first-class murder, one
of the best downright assassinations. No, I had not slaughtered an entire
family, but without being a Tropmann or a Dumolard,[8] I was good for the
guillotine, no doubt, had I been found out.
I had taken care to investigate a few
disappearances reported three years before by newspapers, and had imagined a
little fairy-tale based upon one of them. But my reverend father didn't let me
tell it all in details. He thought me capable of the most dreadful sacrileges,
and found grounds to be pleasantly surprised. He did not however expect an
assassin at his knees. (New laughter)
When the first words of admission fell from my
lips, the reverend father jumped backwards in a most significant way. Ah! Now he
understood my embarrassment, my difficulties, my way of discussing certain sins
of less significance at such length.... And how ashamed I was when I confessed
my crime!... Not only ashamed, but disconcerted, frightened.... A widow was part
of the story, the reverend father let me promise that, in an indirect and indeed
most ingenious way, I would bestow a rent on my victim's widow.... He did not
want to hear any name, but what he was interested in was to know whether I had
murdered with or without premeditation. After beating around the bush and
falling under the weight of shame, I admitted premeditation, a true ambush.
A churchman: What you are doing right now is
abominable, Sir.
Another listener: For your punishment, a priest
will never receive your confession. You are an utmost rascal! (Tumult)
Another listener: All priests in this hall ought
to leave at once!
Abbott Garnier: No! We must listen the scoundrel
to the end! (some people in the audience stand up and leave)
M. Leo Taxil --Whether you leave or not doesn't
matter. I proceed....
It is my true duty to pay tribute to this
reverend Jesuit father. I never got into troubles with the law. My prank thus
allowed me to test the secrecy of confession. If one day I tell the story of
these twelve years in details, I will do it just as today, with the strictest
impartiality and with calm, Abbot Garnier! (Approval)
The main point at this stage was my first victory
in the opening of the battle. Had anyone dared and told the reverend father I
was not the most earnest convert, he would have gotten a strong rebuke.
(Laughter)
INTO THE VATICAN
It was not part of my plans to hurry and see the
Sovereign Pontiff.[9]
My confession of assassination was indeed a
fantastic success; but the director of my retreat at Clamart had kept it secret.
Evidently, what else could he tell the hierarchical authority who entrusted him
to inspect the depths of my soul, except:
"-Leo Taxil?... I vouch for him!"
Once the mistrust of the Vatican was set aside,
how could I make myself agreeable? In order to bring the hoax to the heights I
dreamed of and which I had the inexpressible joy to reach, I had to make good a
point most cherished by the Holy See within the program of the Church.
This part of my plan was settled from the start,
as soon as I decided to inquire into Catholicism.
One year earlier, the Sovereign Pontiff had made
himself notorious with the encyclical Humanum Genus, and this encyclical agreed
with a well-established idea of the militant Catholics. Gambetta[10] had said,
"Clericalism, there is the enemy!" The Church, on the other side, said, "The
enemy is Freemasonry!"
Accordingly, slandering Freemasons was the best
way to establish the foundations of the colossal prank of which I savored all
the suave happiness in advance.
At first, Freemasons were indignant; they did not
foresee that the patiently prepared conclusion of the hoax would result in a
worldwide outburst of laughter. They actually thought I had joined for good. It
was said and repeated that it was a way of avenging myself for having been
expelled from my Lodge in 1881, a well-known story which was not in the least
dishonorable for me, but the mere consequence of a little row initiated by two
men having nowadays disappeared, and disappeared under sad circumstances.
No! I was not avenging myself, I was having fun.
And if one examines now the undersides of this campaign, even the Freemasons who
were most hostile to me will acknowledge that I did not harm anyone. I would go
as far as to say that I did a good turn to French Masonry. (Interruption: You go
too far!...) Pardon me, wait until I explain myself, and I am sure you will
agree with me. I mean that my publication of the rituals was certainly not
irrelevant to reforms which resulted in suppressing outmoded practices which had
become ridiculous in the eyes of all masons befriended with the notion of
progress.
A GOOD CANON OF
FRIBOURG
Let us leave this aside and summarize facts.
Since my goal was to invent all the elements of contemporary devilry-which was a
good bit stronger than the city under the Lake of Geneva-it was necessary to
proceed step by step, foundations had to be set, the egg from which Palladism
was to be born had to be laid and incubated. A prank of this size cannot be
created in one day. (A voice: Obviously!)
From the first moment of my conversion, I had
found out that a certain number of Catholics strongly believed that the name
"Grand Architect of the Universe," adopted by Freemasonry to designate the
Supreme Being without relating it to the particular way of any specific
religion, that this name, as I say, is used in fact to skillfully conceal Master
Lucifer or Satan, the devil!
Various voices: --Enough is enough! He has become
a freemason again! (Laughter)
Other listeners: --Keep on!... It's interesting.
M. Leo Taxil--Stories are told here and there in
which the devil suddenly appeared in a Masonic Lodge and presided over the
meeting. This is admitted among Catholics.
More good men than can be imagined believe that
the laws of nature are sometimes set aside by good or bad spirits, and even by
simple mortals. I was amazed myself to be asked to perform a miracle.
A good canon of Fribourg[11] once dropped by like
a hurricane at my house and told me literally:
"-Ah! You, Mister Taxil, you are a saint! Because
God rescued you from so deep an abyss, you must have a mountain of graces upon
your head [sic]. As soon as I heard of your conversion, I took the train and
here I am. On my return, I must be able to say not only that I saw you, but that
you performed a miracle in front of me." (Laughter)
I was not expecting such a request.
"-A miracle! I answered: I don't understand you,
Mister Canon.
"-Yes, a miracle, he repeated, it does not matter
which, just so that I can bear witness to it!... Whatever miracle you wish!...
What do I know?... Here, for example.... This chair ... turn it into a cane, an
umbrella...." (Prolonged laughter)
I had gotten his point. I gently declined to
perform such a wonder. And my Canon returned to Fribourg saying that if I was
not performing miracles, it was out of humility.
Several months later, he sent me an gigantic
GruyŠre cheese on the crust of which he carved pious inscriptions, wild mystic
hieroglyphs, with a knife-an excellent cheese by all means, which seemed never
to come to an end and which I ate with infinite respect. (Laughter increases.
Some Catholic listeners protest.)
Accordingly, my first books on Freemasonry
consisted in a mixture of rituals, with short innocent parts inserted,
apparently harmlessly interpreted. Each time an obscure passage occurred, I
explained it in a way agreeable to Catholics who see Master Lucifer as the
supreme grand-master of Freemasons. But only with a touch of suggestion. I was
slowly smoothing the field first, in order to plough it later on, and then
scatter the mystifying seeds which were to sprout so well.
AN AUDIENCE WITH THE
HOLY FATHER
After two years of this preparatory work, I went
to Rome. (A voice: Ah! Here we are!)
Received at first by Cardinals Rampolia and
Parocchi, I had the pleasure of hearing them, one as well as the other, tell me
my books were perfect. Yes indeed, the books unveiled exactly what was so well
known in the Vatican, and it was truly fortunate that a convert published these
famous rituals. (Laughter.)
Cardinal Rampolia called me "my dear," thick as
thieves. And how much he regretted that I had been only a mere Apprentice in
Masonry! But since I succeeded in getting at the rituals, nothing was more
legitimate than printing them. He said he could identify therein all his
previous readings from documents in the Holy See's possessions. He identified
everything, even that which, by my doings, had the same worth as the sharks of
Marseilles or the city under the Lake of Geneva. (A voice: Rascal! Scoundrel!
Blackguard! Rogue!)
As for Cardinal Parocchi, what interested him
most, was the question of Masonic Sisters. My precious revelations had taught
him nothing new either. (Murmurs on one side; laughter on the other.)
I had come to Rome unexpected, unaware of the
fact that a request for a private audience with the Sovereign Pontiff must be
made a long time in advance, but I had the pleasant surprise of not waiting at
all, and the Holy Father received me for three quarters of an hour.(A voice: You
are a ruffian.)
To win this new game, I had played it safe during
the first evening I spent alone with the Cardinal Secretary of State. Evidently,
he had been entrusted with my preliminary examination. But the impression I
wished to give him was that I was somehow exalted-not quite as much however as
the good Canon of Fribourg. (Laughter)
The verbal report which Cardinal Rampolla must
have given to the Holy Father granted me the reception I desired.
Since the time of my admission under the banner
of the Church, I had convinced myself of a basic truth, namely that one could
not become a good author[12] if one does not put oneself in the body of the
person one represents, if one does not believe-at least momentarily-that all of
it is true. When a scene of despair is played on the stage, tears should not be
faked: the third-rate actor wipes dry eyes with his handkerchief; the artist
cries actually.
(A voice: Rascal! Rascal!)
Which is why, along the morning before my
reception, I filled myself so completely with the situation that I became ready
for anything and incapable of flinching despite any kind of surprise.
(Speaker's voice gets momentarily lost in
tumult.)
When the Pope asked me:
--My son, what do you wish?
I answered:
--Holy Father, to die at your feet, right now!... This would be my greatest
happiness.
(Laughter)
A listener: Respect Leo XIII. You have no right
to utter his name!
M. Leo Taxil --Smiling, Leo XIII deigned to tell
me that my life was still very useful in the fight for faith. Then he touched
upon the question of Freemasonry. He owned all my new works in his personal
library. He had read them from one end to the other and insisted upon the
satanic guidance of the sect.
Having been an Apprentice only, I had great merit
to have understood that "the devil is there." And the Sovereign Pontiff stressed
on the word devil with an inflection which is easy for me to render. It seems
that I can still hear him repeating: "The devil! The devil!"
When I left, I was sure that my plan could be
carried out to the end. The important thing was not to stand out any more, once
the fruit was ripe.
Now, the tree of contemporary luciferianism began
to grow. I gave it all my care for a few more years.... Then I re-wrote one of
my books, introducing a palladian ritual in it, allegedly obtained in
communication, in fact prettily fabricated by me from beginning to end.
A listener. --And we have to hear that!... It is
disgusting!
M. Leo Taxil --Now, Palladism or Luciferian
High-Masonry was born. The new book had the most enthusiastic reception,
including all the magazines issued by the Fathers of the Society of Jesus.
***
THE SEARCH FOR
COLLABORATORS
The time had come now for me to step aside,
otherwise the most fantastic hoax of modern times would have failed sadly.
I started looking for the first collaborator I
needed. It had to be someone who had traveled a lot and who might be able to
describe a mysterious investigation in the luciferian Triangles, in the dens of
this Palladism described as secretly directing all the Lodges and Back-Lodges of
the entire world.
I happened then to meet again in Paris with an
old college friend of mine, who had been a doctor aboard ships.
At first, I did not put him on to the secret of
the hoax at all.
I let him read various books of authors
enthralled at my wonderful revelations. The most extraordinary one was authored
by a Jesuit bishop, Msgr. Meurin, bishop of Port-Louis (Mauritius), who came to
Paris in order to consult me. One can imagine how well informed he became!...
(Laughter)
This excellent Msgr. Meurin, an erudite
Orientalist, came out equal with the Polish archeologist who had recognized a
fragment of an equestrian statue in the middle of a place in my underwater city.
(New laughter)
Starting from the determined idea that Freemasons
worship the devil, and convinced of the existence of Palladism, he discovered
the most extraordinary things behind the Hebrew words used as passwords, etc.,
in the innumerable degrees of masonic rites.
Sashes, aprons, ritualistic tools, he scrutinized
everything. He examined the smallest embroidered figures on the most
insignificant pieces of material having belonged to a Freemason and, in the best
faith in the world, he found my Palladism everywhere.
Among the most joyous times of my life, I will
always recall the hours during which he read his manuscript to me. His thick
volume, Freemasonry, Synagogue of Satan, was a wonderful help in convincing my
doctor friend that there truly was a secret luciferian meaning in all of the
masonic symbolism.
In fact, the doctor did not care a rap. But he
had really studied spiritualism out of curiosity as an amateur. He knew that
believers in supernatural manifestations, phantoms, ghosts, werewolves, etc.
existed throughout the world. He knew that within small groups of occultists,
likable pranksters let specters appear to good people who forgot all of Robert-Houdin's
technique. But he did not know that such operations ever occurred in
freemasonry. He did not know that there was a specific rite of luciferian and
masonic occultism. He knew nothing of Palladism and of its triangles, of the
Elected Wizards and of Templar Mistresses, and of all the astounding supreme
organization imagined by me, the existence of which became scientifically
established through the productions of Msgr. Meurin and others.
SOPHIA WALDER, GRAND
MISTRESS OF PALLADISM
In my book, Are There any Women in Freemasonry?,
I created the part of a Grand Mistress of Palladism, a Sophia-Sapho, disclosing
only the initial letter of her alleged true name: a W. I confided the whole name
to my doctor friend. He believed in the existence of Sophie Walder.
Let us understand each other right. Because of
books such as Msgr. Meurin's, the doctor believed in Palladism and in the
various individuals, heroes of my hoax, who began to appear therein. But I did
not try in the least to make him believe in the reality of the supernatural
manifestations which had to be told.
(Renewed tumult. A monk bursts out laughing and
begins to applaud. There is deep amazement by priests who sit next to him.)
This is how I asked my friend the doctor to work
together with me.
"-Do you want to collaborate on a work on
Palladism?... As for me, I am thoroughly familiar with the subject, but the
issue of rituals is far less interesting than recounting adventures as a
witness, especially unbelievable ones.... Besides, to move good souls best, the
narrator must himself be a hero. Not a convinced Palladist, but a zealous
Catholic having put on the luciferian mask in order to make this mysterious
inquiry at the peril of his life.... I will give you a pseudonym, because we
shall say that for all sorts of reasons, the author cannot surrender his name to
publicity: for example, he still has to write an inquiry about the nihilists....
(Laughter) You will be known only to a small group of ecclesiastics, that will
be enough.... You will hand over to me the route of your voyages whereupon I
shall design an outline which you will only have to embellish. Then I shall
recopy your manuscript, correct it, cut out some parts and above all add a few
ones.... Yours will be the medical part, the description of towns and some
narratives. Mine will be the technical aspects of Palladism, information on all
the individuals who are going to appear, and most of the added episodes.... I
need your collaboration for some thirty or forty installments altogether.... Now
don't worry about denials.... As you noticed in the works I gave you to read,
there are two kinds of Palladists: nuts who really believe that Lucifer is the
Good-God whose cult must be kept secret for a few more years still, and the
wire-pullers who use the nutty ones as excellent subjects for their occultist
experiments.... Neither sort will be able to protest publicly, since the first
condition of belonging to Palladism is the most rigorous secrecy. Besides,
should some of them protest, their denials would be without effect, since they
would appear to have been made in self-defense."
My doctor friend agreed and in order to
strengthen his own belief in the existence of Palladism in spite of the hoax of
marvelous facts attributed by us to its Triangles, I let him receive several
letters from Sophie Walder. Sophie was indignant that he pretended to have met
her.
The doctor faithfully related these letters to
me.
After receiving three or four of them, he told
me:
"-I am afraid that this woman is going to make a
scandal and demonstrate that the load of crap we spout about her is sheer
nonsense." (Laughter.)
I answered:
"Calm down. She protests for form's sake; in
reality, she is thrilled to read that she has the talent of walking through
walls and owns a snake who writes prophecies on her back with the tip of its
tail. (Laughter) I got in touch with her and was introduced to her. She is a
good girl. She is a Palladist hoaxster. She laughs her head off about all that.
Do you want me to introduce you to her?"
He wanted to indeed! Boy! Was he happy to strike
up an acquaintance with Sophie Walder! Several days later, I forwarded to my
friend a letter from the Palladist grand-mistress. She agreed with the
introduction. We were to meet at my house, and go from there to Sophia-Sapho who
even invited us for dinner.... My friend came to my house in ceremonial full
dress as if he was invited at the Elys‚e.[13] I showed him the table in my house
and then told him everything ... or, at least, almost everything.
Sophie Walder, a myth! Palladism, my most
beautiful creation, only existed on paper and in a few thousand brains! He could
not believe it. I had to show him some proof. Once convinced, he found the hoax
even funnier and kept on working with me.
THE CREATION OF DR.
BATAILLE
Among the things I forgot to tell him, there is
one which he will learn at this conference, namely the reason why I picked Dr.
Bataille as his pseudonym. --Allegedly, it was to stress the offensive character
of war against Palladism. But my own true reason, my intimate reason as a
dilettante hoaxster, was this: one of my oldest friends, deceased by now, a
hoaxster of the supreme category, was the illustrious Sapeck, prince of
hoaxterism in the Latin Quarter.[14] In a way I was bringing him to life again
without anybody's notice. Then Sapeck's true name was Bataille. (Long laughter.)
However my doctor friend was not enough to work
my plan out. In The Devil in the 19th Century, my plan was to set the stage for
the conversion of a luciferian Grand-Mistress.
The book I had authored introduced Sophia-Sapho
under the blackest colors. I had taken pains to make her as distasteful as
possible for the Catholics: the accomplished type of an incarnate she-devil,
wallowing in sacrilege, a true Satanist, such as one meets in Huysmans' books.
THE
BIRTH OF DIANA VAUGHAN
Sophia-Sapho, or Miss Sophie Walder, was there
only to serve as a contrast to another luciferian, a sympathetic one, an angelic
creature living in Palladist hell through the chance of birth. Her existence was
to be revealed to the Catholic public through a work signed by Bataille. (A
voice: Oh! The rogue!... Oh! The base villain!)
Now, since this exceptional luciferian woman was
to convert at a given moment, I had to have someone in flesh and blood on hand,
should it become necessary to produce her.
A little while before meeting again with my
childhood friend, the doctor, the necessities of my profession let me meet a
typist who was a European representative of one of the large typewriter
manufacturers in the United States. At that time, I gave her lots of manuscripts
to type. I met with a woman who was intelligent, active, sometimes traveling for
business. Further gifted with a playful humor and an elegant simplicity, as in
most of our Protestant families. One knows that Lutheran and Calvinist women,
although proscribing luxury in the way they dress, nevertheless make concessions
to fashion. Her family was French, father and mother French but deceased, the
American origin went back to her great-grandfather only. In spite of the
similarity in names, she had no family ties with Ernest Vaughan, former
administrator of L'Intransigeant.[15] There are several Vaughans in France. In
England and in the United States, Vaughans are innumerable. I have to say that,
because one might believe that Mr. Ernest Vaughan, with whom I was acquainted in
the past and whose brother-in-law always remained one of my best friends, one
might believe, as I say, that Mr. Ernest Vaughan was more or less indirectly an
accomplice in my hoax. Such a misunderstanding should be avoided at all cost.
Miss Diana Vaughan is in no way related to him, the homonymy is no more than
sheer coincidence.
My luck could not have been better. Nobody was
better qualified than Miss Vaughan to assist me. The question was: would she
accept?
DIANA VAUGHAN
I could not ask her point-blank. I studied her
first. Little by little, I interested her in devilry, which greatly amused her.
She is, as I said, rather a free-thinker than a Protestant. Consequently, she
was amazed to find out that in this century of progress, there are still people
who believe seriously in all the nonsense of the Middle Ages.
A voice: But we didn't come to listen to these
things!
Other voices: Keep on! Keep on!
M. Leo Taxil --It is surprising that those who
get mad at what I am saying now are precisely the same persons who, in their
newspapers, urged me to speak.... I proceed....
My first approach to Miss Vaughan was on the
subject of the letters of Sophie Walder. She agreed to let them be written by
one of her friends. I had the proof, thusly, that women are much less talkative
than one says and that if their weak point is curiosity, on the other hand one
can count on their discretion. Miss Vaughan's friend never boasted to anybody to
have written Sophie Walder's letters. Besides, there weren't many.
Finally, I convinced Miss Vaughan to become my
accomplice for the final success of my hoax. I drew a fixed agreement with her:
150 francs per month for typing manuscripts as well as for letters which should
be copied by hand. It goes without saying that should trips be necessary, all
her expenses would be defrayed; but she never accepted any money as a gift. In
fact, she enjoyed the prank quite a lot and took a liking to it. Corresponding
with Bishops, Cardinals, receiving letters from the private secretary of the
Sovereign Pontiff, telling them fairy tales, informing the Vatican about the
dark plots of luciferians, all this set her in an inexpressible gaiety, she
thanked me for associating her with this huge prank. Had she possessed the great
wealth we attributed to her to make her prestige greater, she would have never
accepted the price agreed for her collaboration, and further she would have paid
for all the costs wholeheartedly.
She was the one who let us discover the existence
of private postal agencies in order to reduce expenses. She had had the
opportunity to have recourse to one of them in London, and told us about it. She
also told me about the Alibi-Office in New York.
The Devil in the 19th Century was mainly written
to introduce the existence of Miss Vaughan who was to play the main part in the
hoax. Had her name been Campbell or Thompson, we would have given our
sympathetic luciferian the name of Miss Campbell or Miss Thompson. We merely
turned her into an American, born by chance in Paris. We let her family
originate in Kentucky. This allowed us to make her part as interesting as
possible by multiplying extraordinary wonders concerning her, which nobody was
able to check. (Laughter) Another reason was that we located the center of
Palladism at Charleston in the United States, with the late General Albert Pike,
Grand Master of the Scottish Rite in South Carolina, as Founder. This celebrated
Freemason, endowed with vast erudition, had been one of the highlights of the
order. Through us, he became the first luciferian Pope, supreme chief of all
freemasons of the globe, conferring regularly each Friday, at 3 p.m., with
Master Lucifer in person. (Explosion of laughter)
A most curious point in the story is that some
freemasons joined in the prank without in the least being asked to. Compared
with the tugboat I had dispatched hunting for sharks in the coves of Marseille
in my early years, the boat of Palladism was a true battleship.
With the help of Dr. Bataille, the battleship
turned into a squadron. And when Miss Diana Vaughan became my auxiliary, the
squadron grew into a full navy.[16] (New laughter)
We saw indeed some Masonic journals, such as La
Renaissance Symbolique, swallow a dogmatic circular about luciferian occultism,
a circular dated July14, 1889, written by myself in Paris, and which I disclosed
as having been brought from Charleston to Europe by Miss Diana Vaughan on behalf
of Albert Pike, its author.
When I named Adriano Lemmi second successor to
Albert Pike as luciferian Sovereign Pontiff-then Lemmi was not elected pope of
the Freemasons in the Borghese palace, but in my office-, when this imaginary
election became known, some Italian Masons, among which a Deputy at the
Parliament, took it seriously. They were annoyed to learn through indiscretions
of the profane press that Lemmi was secretive toward them, that he kept them
aloof from the famous Palladism which the whole world spoke about. They met in
Congress in Palermo, constituted in Sicily, Naples and Florence, three
independent Supreme Councils, and named Miss Vaughan an honorary member and
protectress of their federation.
A voice. --That was a successful prank!
Another listener. --These freemasons were your
accomplices!
M. Leo Taxil --You bet!... May I say again that I
had only two auxiliaries who were in the secret of the prank: my doctor friend
and Miss Diana Vaughan.
An unexpected auxiliary-though by no means an
accomplice, in spite of what he said-is Mr. Margiotta, a Freemason from Palmi,
in Calabria. He began as one of the hoaxed, became more hoaxed than all the
others and, what is most amusing, he told us he had met the Palladist
grand-mistress during one of her trips to Italy. (Laughter) It is true that I
had gently induced him to entrust me with this confidence. I had put in his head
that the trip had really taken place; I had created around it an atmosphere of
Palladism; I let him meet a chamberlain of Leo XIII in Rome who had dined with
Miss Diana some times before. (Loud laughter and protests) Then I mentioned that
during Miss Vaughan's imagined trip of 1889, when she was supposed to have
brought the alleged dogmatic Albert Pike's circular letter to Europe, she had
entertained many Freemasons in groups, in the course of two evenings in Naples,
at Hotel Victoria. I knew that Mr. Margiotta, who is a poet, had dedicated a
volume of verse to Bovio, and I had taken the trouble to tell him that the
Freemasons were introduced to Miss Vaughan in 1889 by Bovio and by Cosma Panunzi.
I added that these brothers had taken tea with her but were so many that she
couldn't remember their names or faces. Timidly at first, Mr. Margiotta risked
some allusions about this former meeting. Then, seeing that it seemed to work
and that Miss Diana did not contradict him, he went all the way. He went indeed
much too far. --Later, when I decided to prevent the mystification from
collapsing under the silence of a Commission, our prank having been unmasked in
the mean time in Germany, when I agreed with the doctor to tally-ho the panic of
the mystified Cardinals, when Bataille and I, always in agreement, faked
shooting at each other, Mr. Margiotta, having at last opened his eyes, feared
ridicule and chose to declare himself an accomplice rather than a blind
volunteer in our navy.
But we shouldn't appear more numerous than we
actually were. We were three and that was enough. The editors themselves were
mystified all the way. Anyway, they have nothing to complain about. First of all
because our marvelous revelations brought them the most encouraging Episcopal
congratulations, not counting those of the grave theologians who didn't bat an
eyelid when our crocodile played the piano and Miss Vaughan traveled to various
planets. Then, because our triple collaboration let them give two works to the
public, which can compete with A Thousand and One Nights, works which have been
devoured with delight and will still be read for a long time, not with
conviction any more, possibly, but out of curiosity.
***
ELABORATIONS ON A
THEME
It is a bit unusual indeed, that we managed to
get our staggering stories swallowed in our 19th century.
I ask myself however to what extent the high
approvers of unmasked Palladism have the right to get angry today. When one
understands that one was fooled, the best thing to do is to laugh with the
audience. Yes, Mister Abbot Garnier! And your getting cross will make you even
more laughed at.
Abbott Garnier. --You are a scoundrel! (attempts
are made to try and calm down Abbott Garnier.)
M. Leo Taxil (when the tumult calmed down)
--Those hoaxed by Palladism can be divided into two categories.
Firstly, those who were in good faith, entirely
in good faith. They were the victims of their theological science and of their
eagerly pursued studies of all that touches on Freemasonry. I had to immerse
myself in these two sciences in order to imagine everything and in such a way
that they wouldn't realize it was a prank. Can one believe, for instance, that
it was easy to take M. de la Rive for a ride, he, the embodiment of an inquiring
mind, who examines the slightest trifles with a microscope and who could beat
our best investigating judges? He can boast of having given me trouble!... My
whole Palladism had been solidly constructed as far as its masonic part is
concerned, since some Freemasons-even "thirty-thirds" if you please!-did not
take it for a shadowy mirage and asked to become members. (Laughter) The
impossibility of Palladism becomes plain as the nose on one's face only because
of the supernatural elements we filled it with. But these devilries were a
warning only for those who do not believe in those devilries described in other
books, in pious books. Asmodeus carrying Miss Diana Vaughan to the Garden of
Eden is no more extraordinary than Master Satan taking up Jesus Christ himself
on top of a mountain and showing him all the kingdoms of the Earth ... which is
round! (Various voices: Bravo!) --Either one has faith or one has not.
(Laughter)
Besides this first category of hoaxed people,
however, there is a second one, and members of the latter one were not fully
hoaxed. The good abbots and monks who admired Miss Vaughan because she was a
converted Masonic luciferian Sister have the right to think that such female
Masons exist. They have never seen or encountered any, but they may think that
it is because there are none in their diocese. In Rome, it's another story. In
Rome, all information is centralized. In Rome one cannot ignore that there are
no female Masons other than the wives, daughters, or sisters of Freemasons,
admitted to banquets, public feasts, or those who meet separately, very
decently, in private societies comprising feminine elements only, such as the
Sisters of the Eastern Star or the Daughters of the Revolution in the United
States. (Signs of approval)
When one thinks about it, it is easy to
understand that if Masonic sisters exist, such as the anti-Masons imagine, there
would have been conversions and confessions a long time ago! The eagerness with
which Miss Vaughan's alleged conversion was received in Rome is significant.
Please notice that Msgr. Lazzareschi, delegate of the Holy See to the
Anti-Masonic Union's central Committee, let a Thanksgiving Triduum[17] be
celebrated at the Church of the Sacred Heart in Rome!
The Hymn to Joan of Arc, supposedly composed by
Miss Diana, words and music, was performed at the anti-Masonic feasts of the
Roman Committee. This music became nearly sacred and sounded with grand
solemnity in the basilicas of the Holy City. Its tune is that of the
Philharmonic Syringe, a musical jest written for the entertainments of the harem
by one of my friends, conductor of the orchestra of Sultan Abdul Aziz.
(Prolonged laughter. Cries: It is abominable! Oh! The blackguard!)
Such Roman enthusiasm sets one thinking.
I shall recall two typical facts.
Under the pen-name "Dr. Bataille" I related-and
under that of "Miss Vaughan" I confirmed-that the Masonic temple in Charleston
contained a maze at the center of which stays the chapel of Lucifer....
(Interruptions).
M. Oscar Havard. --The bishop of Charleston
declared this to be an imposture.
M. Leo Taxil --So it is. I was going to say so in
a moment. But do not triumph yet. Wait a little!... I said that in the Masonic
temple in Charleston one of the rooms, triangular in shape, called the Sanctum
Regnum, has as its main ornament a monstrous statue of Baphomet, which the
High-Masons worship. That in another room, a statue of Eve comes alive when a
Templar Mistress is especially agreeable to Master Satan, and that this statue
then turns into the demon Astarte, for a moment alive, and gives a kiss to the
preferred Templar Mistress. I published the alleged map of this Masonic
building, a plan which I designed myself. Now, Msgr. Northrop, Catholic bishop
of Charleston, went to Rome expressly to assure the Sovereign Pontiff of the
highest fantasy of these writings. This journey would have remained unknown if
Msgr. Northrop, on his way to Rome, had not let himself be interviewed. Which is
how what he came to tell the Pope became public. He had come to say: "It is
false, absolutely false, that the Freemasons of Charleston are the chiefs of a
supreme luciferian rite. I am especially well acquainted with the most important
ones. They are Protestants, inspired by the best intentions. Not one of them
considers practicing occultism. I visited their temple, none of the rooms
indicated by Doctor Bataille or Miss Vaughan are to be found there. The map is a
hoax." On his return from Rome, Msgr. Northrup did not protest any more and has
kept silent ever since. Miss Diana Vaughan, on the contrary, replied to Msgr.
Northrop's interview; she said the Bishop of Charleston was himself a Freemason
and she received the Pope's blessing. (Sensation)
Second fact. Under the signatures of Bataille and
Vaughan, I recounted and confirmed that immense secret workshops were located in
Gibraltar under the English fortress, in which men-monsters fabricated all the
instruments used in the ceremonies of Palladism, and Miss Diana Vaughan, asked
about this by Roman high ecclesiastical dignitaries, enjoyed herself answering
in her cutest style that nothing was more true and that the forges of the
mysterious workshops of Gibraltar were fed by the very fires of Hell. (Laughter)
Msgr. the Apostolic Vicar of Gibraltar wrote, on the other hand, that he
confirmed what he had been forced to declare to various people, namely that the
story of the secret workshops was an audacious invention, resting on no
foundation whatsoever, nothing whatsoever, and that he was indignant to witness
the creation of such legends. The Vatican did not publish the letter of the
Apostolic Vicar of Gibraltar, and Miss Vaughan received the blessing of the
Pope. (Applause. --Many voices: Bravo Taxil!)
Should I recall some of the letters of approval
received by Miss Vaughan?
Various voices among the Catholic journalists
--It's not true! There was no approval.
LETTERS OF APPROVAL
M. Leo Taxil --What! You dare deny it! Well, here
is one, a letter of assent, and a weighty one!... It is from Cardinal Parocchi,
Vicar of His Holiness; it is dated December 16, 1895:
Miss and dear Daughter in Our Lord,
It is with a lively but quite soft emotion
that I received your good letter of 29 November,
together with the copy of the Neuvaine Eucharis-
tique.... His Holiness has entrusted me with
bestowing upon you, on his behalf, a very special
blessing....
My sympathies have been all yours for a long
time. Your conversion is one of the most magnifi-
cent triumphs of grace that I am aware of. Right
now, I am reading your Memoirs which are just
fascinating.
Be assured that I have not forgotten you in
the mean time, especially in my prayers to the
Holy Sacrifice. As for you, do not cease to thank
Our Savior Jesus Christ for the great mercy which
He bestowed upon you and the magnificent token of
love which He gave you.
Do accept my blessing and believe me,
All yours in the heart of Jesus.
L.M. Cardinal-Vicar.
Here is another one written on the official
letterhead of the general leading Council of the Anti-Masonic Union, which is
the highest action committee against freemasonry, a committee constituted by the
Pope himself, a committee whose leader is an official representative of the Holy
See, Msgr. Lazzareschi. Listen:
Rome, May 27, 1896.
Miss,
Monsignor Vincenzo Sardi, who is one of the
private secretaries of the Holy Father, has
entrusted me with writing to you, by the order of
His Holiness himself.
I should also tell you that His Holiness read
with great pleasure your Neuvaine Eucharistique.
Commander Alliata had an interview with the
Cardinal Vicar concerning the veracity of your
conversion. His Eminence is convinced; but He
declared to our president that He cannot bear
witness of it publicly. "I cannot betray the
secrets of the Holy Office, is what His Eminence
answered to Commander Alliata.
I am all yours, very devoted in Our Lord,
Rodolfo Verzichi,
Secretary General
The private secretary of Leo XIII, the same Mister Vincenzo Sardi who was
mentioned above, writes among other things:
Rome, July 11, 1896.
Miss,
I hasten to express the thanks which are due
to you for sending your last book on Crispi....
This is a book in which, under the signature
of Miss Diana Vaughan, I recounted that Crispi had
a pact with a devil named Haborym, that Crispi was
present in 1885 at a Palladistic meeting during
which a devil named Bitru, introducing Sophie
Walder to a certain number of Italian political
men, announced to them that the said Sophie, on
September 19, 1896, would give birth to a girl who
was to become the grandmother of the Antichrist. I
had sent the book to the Vatican. The private
secretary of the Pope was expressing his thanks
for it accordingly and added:
Keep on, Miss, keep on writing and unmasking
the iniquitous sect! Which is the reason why
Providence has permitted that you belonged to it
for such a long time....
I recommend myself, with all my heart, to
your prayers, and with a perfect esteem I declare
myself your very devoted
Msgr. Vincenzo Sardi.
The Civilt… Cattolica, the most important of all
Catholic reviews in the world, the official organ of the Jesuits' General, a
review published in Rome, issued the following lines in its issue no. 1,110 in
September 1896:
We want at least once to give ourselves the
pleasure of blessing publicly the names of the
valorous champions who entered first the glorious
arena, among them the noble Miss Diana Vaughan.
Miss Diana Vaughan, called from the depths of
darkness to the light of God, prepared by divine
Providence, armed with science and personal
experience, turns towards the Church to serve it,
and appears inexhaustible in her valuable
publications which are un-paralleled for accuracy
and usefulness."
In the entourage of the Sovereign Pontiff,
Miss Vaughan was not merely considered as a heroic
polemicist; she was set on the same level as the
Saints. When she started to be attacked, the
secretary of Cardinal Parocchi wrote her from
Rome, October 19, 1886:
Keep on, Miss, through your pen and your
piety, despite the efforts of hell, furnishing
weapons to overwhelm the Enemy of mankind. All the
Saints' deeds have been fought against; no wonder
then that yours are not spared....
Please accept, Miss, the expression of my
liveliest feelings of admiration and respect.
A. Villard
Prelate of the Residence of His Holiness
Secretary to H. E. Cardinal Parocchi
You know well, gentlemen Catholic journalists,
that these letters have been actually sent to Miss Vaughan. They may embarrass
you today; but they are historical documents; these have not been forged, and
their eminent authors will not disown them.
And not only did they patronize this hoax; but
believing the woman with whom they corresponded to have an exalted head, they
urged her to enter their game for preparing their miracles.
Time is short today; nevertheless, I want to
acquaint you with a fact along the same lines. Everybody knows that according to
the Catholic legend, once Joan of Arc had been burned, the executioner was
shocked to find out that, alone, the heart of the heroine had not been consumed;
in vain, he threw more burning pitch and sulfur upon it, the heart would not
burn. Finally, on the injunction of the bailiff who directed the torment, Joan's
heart was thrown in the Seine. Now, the French clergy requests the canonization
of Joan of Arc; but it is Rome which canonizes, and Rome is in Italy. The French
clergy has already found a relic of the girl they put to death, namely a
carbonized rib. In Italy, they are preparing something better than that. They
support a nun of the third order in the extraordinary idea that she is the one
who will retrieve the heart of Joan of Arc; no doubt an angel will bring it to
her. This ultra-mystical nun of the third order has said so in a letter she
wrote to Miss Vaughan, and the very secretary of the Cardinal Vicar recommended
to Miss Vaughan to correspond with this pious person, to exchange with her
impressions about the supernatural facts concerning Joan of Arc. It is easy to
get what that means. Be sure that one day an angel will carry the heart, not to
France, but to Italy, the same as angels carried the house of Nazareth to
Lorette.[18] Joan of Arc will be canonized, and all the French pilgrims who will
come to Italy will not fail to make a visit to the Italian possessor of the
miraculously retrieved heart; and their visits will be fruitful, won't they?
(Laughter)
Indeed, Miss Vaughan has seen the favors of the
princes of the Church fall upon her.
The masons of France, of Italy, of England,
laughed in their sleeves and right they were. On the other hand, a German Mason,
Findel,[19] got real mad and thundered forth a very well written pamphlet. Great
excitement. That pamphlet was like a paving stone in a frogs' pond.[20]
A strong reaction appeared necessary. Findel
endangered the final success of my hoax: his grand mistake was to think that it
was a plot set up by the Jesuits-unfortunate Jesuits! I had sent them a fragment
of the Moloch's tail, as a piece of evidence of Palladism! (Explosion of
laughter)
Disquiet crept into the Vatican. Jumping from one
extreme to another they got into a panic. They wondered whether they were not
confronted with a hoax about to smash the Church instead of serving it. They
named a secret commission of inquiry in order to ascertain what they were to
believe.
Since then, the danger becoming great, my work
was endangered, and I did not want to get shipwrecked. The danger was silence,
strangling the hoax in the oubliettes[21] of the Roman Commission, preventing
Catholic papers from breathing a word.
My friend the doctor went to Cologne; from there,
he put me in the picture. And forewarned I left for the Congress of Trent, well
forewarned. When I came back, the first person I saw was my friend. I told him
of my fear of silent strangling.
Then we agreed upon all that was to be done and
written. If the editors of the Universe doubt it, I can name them parts they
left out of the letters of Dr. Bataille. It was I who stoked their fire that
way, then it was necessary for the world press to be made aware of this grand
and bizarre epic. And a good deal of time was necessary so that the uproar of
furious Catholics, the polemic with those in favor of Miss Diana Vaughan would
catch the notice of the major newspapers, those who walk along with progress and
count millions of readers.
THE CONCLUSION
Before ending, I must pay my respects to an
unknown hoaxster, a shrewd American colleague. Among hoaxsters, one understands
each other from one end of the world to the other without needing to exchange
letters, without even having to drop a call. Respects therefore to the dear
citizen of Kentucky who had the friendly thought of helping us without any prior
agreement, who confirmed the revelations of Miss Diana Vaughan to the Louisville
Courier-Journal, who certified to whoever wanted to hear that he had known Miss
Diana Vaughan intimately for seven or eight years and that he often met her in
the various secret societies of Europe and America.... where she never set foot.
Ladies,
Gentlemen,
You were told that Palladism would be knocked
down today. Better still, it is annihilated, it is no more.
In my general confession to the Jesuit father of
Clamart, I had accused myself of an imaginary murder. Well, I will admit to a
further crime. I committed infanticide. Palladism is now dead for good. Its
father just murdered it.
(An indescribable tumult meets this conclusion.
Some laugh more and more and applaud the lecturer. Catholics scream and hiss.
Abbot Garnier steps on a chair and attempts to address the audience, but he is
hindered by the hoot. A few listeners strike up the comic song by Meusy: O
Sacred Heart of Jesus!)
***
TRANSLATORS' NOTES
1. In French: arriŠres-loges, literally
back-lodges, in the sense they are in the back, behind the scenes, but secretly
running everything.
2. The French stereotype those born in Marseilles
as makers of pranks.
3. Literally: The Hobby-Horse, Journal for Fools.
4. La Fronde was a seditious party during the
minority of Louis XIV. It gave birth to the word Frondeur, designating generally
speaking all those who criticize the authorities and the government without
restraint or deference.
5. In French: Conseiller prudhommal.
6. This alludes to one of the Fables de La
Fontaine, well known to French children, about a cat who covered himself with
flour in hopes that mice would be fooled and come close enough to be caught.
7. "Partner" in the original French text.
8. Two murderers whose exactions and execution at
the guillotine were famous in the time of Taxil.
9. Pope Leo XIII.
10. A famous French politician.
11. A stronghold of Catholicism in Switzerland.
12. Actor is meant here likely.
13. Residence of the President of the French
Republic.
14. Part of Paris where many students live.
15. A Parisian daily newspaper.
16. Both sentences are based on a joke almost
impossible to render in English. "Monter un bateau" is the French equivalent of
"to pull one's leg." Taxil combines it with the tugboat of his youth, which
grows into a squadron, and then a whole navy. Meaning that the prank becomes
more and more enormous.
17. A religious ceremony which lasts three days.
18. This is an allusion to a legend from the 15th
century that the birth house of the Virgin Mary in Nazareth was brought to
Ancona in Italy by angels.
19. J.G. Findel, author of History of
Freemasonry, 1861.
20. In addition to the obvious imagery of a stone
disturbing frogs, French priests are sometimes called "frogs of the holy water
basin."
21. An oubliette is a secret dungeon where people
were thrown, forgotten, and died. Taxil plays on the double meaning of oublier,
to forget, and oubliette.
Author Leo
Taxil (1854-1907)
Born in the south of France in 1854 and schooled
by the Jesuits, his real name was Gabriel Jogang Pages. He tried the shortcut of financial
fraud, and when he was discovered he fled from France to Switzerland. There, Gabriel Pages
adopted the name of Leo Taxil. In the strongly anti-Church climate existing throughout
France, Leo Taxil believed that he would find a ready market for anti-clerical
publications. He wrote anti-Catholic satires, poking fun at church leaders. In hopes of
gathering anti-Church material, Taxil joined a Lodge of Freemasons in Paris in 1881. His
true character quickly surfaced, and he was expelled from the lodge before going beyond
the first degree. Over the succeeding years, his anti-Catholic writing brought him very
little income but earned him a great deal of criticism and condemnation from the clergy.
He needed another target for his literary talents. Leo Taxil confessed to the sins he had
committed in writing and publishing anti-Catholic pamphlets. He then began writing a
series condemning the Freemasons. Titles include: The Anti-Christ and the Origin of
Masonry; The Cult of the Great Architect; and The Masonic Assassins. Leo Taxil honed the
simple declaration, "Lucifer is God," and attributed it to Albert Pike.,
supposedly delivered to Freemasons in Paris on Bastille Day, July 14, 1889. He also
coined the non-existent title, "Sovereign Pontiff of Universal Freemasonry", for
Pike. Of the hundreds of Masonic bodies in the world at that time, Pike was the leader of
just one, the Southern Jurisdiction of the Scottish Rite. A blatant fraud, Taxil's
forgery was a huge success. On April 19,1897, Taxil used his celebrity status to
attract a large audience to a meeting in Paris. Journalists came, along with members
of the Catholic hierarchy. There Taxil announced that every word written about
Masonic devil worship was the product of his own fertile imagination. A Paris
newspaper published the thirty-three page text of his speech the following week. The
incorrigible opportunist moved away from Paris to a stately home in the country, where he
enjoyed a comfortable life until his death at the age of fifty-three, in 1907.
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