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ALBERT PIKE'S LUCIFERIAN THE PALLADIUM RITE OF FREEMASONRY - - EXPOSED!!!
"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) ."
- - Leo Taxil explaining his infamous hoaxx before a Paris audience,on April 25, 1897
Twelve Years Under the Banner of the Church
THE PRANK OF PALLADISM
MISS DIANA VAUGHAN--THE DEVIL AT THE FREEMASONS
Leo Taxil was the great granddy of all pranksters. In 1897 he wrote a series of books claming the Freemsons were really devil worshipers, and that there was a secret masonic order called The Palladium Rite which ruled the world. With each book, the claims got more ridiculous. The last book claimed Albert Pike had a telephone in Charleston South Carolina, USA, in which he could call the Devil himself in Hell. Eventually he would expose the hoax for all the world to see, making fools of the Roman Catholic clergy and many others that had believed his story.
Nevertheless, the whole purpose of Taxil's hoax would come back to bite
him on the proverbial backside years after his death. Lady Queensboro
used the taxil material to create her Occult Theocracy book. William
Shnobellen, the ex-Wiccan/ex-Satanists/
ex-Illuminati/ex-Freemason/ex-Roman Catholic Priest/ex-O.T.O.
member/ex-Vampire/ex-Mormon et ex-al, would cite Leo Taxil's works in
his own pant soiling insane conspiracy books. Even people who have
never heard of Taxil still recite the OBVIOUSLY FAKE claims made by him
via other sources without realizing it.
So, to help dispell some of these myths, here is the account of Taxil publicly admitting his prank, as published in the Paris newspaper, Le Frondeur, on April 25, 1897.
A Conference held by M. Léo 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. Léo 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. Léo 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
I address myself to the Catholics.
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 freethinker 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).
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.
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
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.)
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.
THE SHARKS OF MARSEILLES
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
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.
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...
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-Pagès, called Léo
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
Presumably, old friends who attended the July 1885 meeting are in this
room. I shall remind them of the formulation of my protest.
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.
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)
let it go because I didn't care much and laughed inside myself.
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.
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:
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. LÉO 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: "Léo 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.
block covered with flour somehow looks suspicious,"6. it was thought
among the "big hats" of the church. (Laughter)
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)
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
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)
INTO THE VATICAN
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:
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. Gambetta10. 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.
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!
listeners: —Keep on!... It’s interesting.
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?"
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 Elysée.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 way 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!)
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
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 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
Nobody was better qualified than Miss Vaughan to assist me. The question was: would she accept?
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!
LÉO 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....
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.
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.
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.
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)
and dear Daughter in Our Lord,
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.
accept my blessing and believe me,
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:
May 27, 1896.
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,
The private secretary of Léo XIII, the same Mister Vincenzo Sardi who was mentioned above, writes among other things:
Rome, July 11, 1896.
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 Civiltà 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:
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.
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:
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
of the Residence of His Holiness
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 ultramystical
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.
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 oubliettes21. of the Roman Commission, preventing Catholic papers
from breathing a word.
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.
(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!)
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