The Maier Files | The man who could not die
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The man who could not die

Saint Germain

20 Aug The man who could not die

As Otto Maier once stated that if a highly unlikely event is going to happen in a finite time, then many less unlikely events would occur in a shorter time.  Take the case of the Count Saint Germain.

Frederick the Great (1712–1786) of Prussia called the Count of Saint-Germain the man who could not die, for as stated by the count, he had already survived more than 2000 years by partaking of his discovery of a regenerative fluid that might extend human life endlessly. Saint-Germain charmed the courts of Europe in the eighteenth century. He would allude to an enjoyable chat with the Queen of Sheba and convey amusing anecdotes of Babylonian court gossip. He would speak with reverence of the miraculous event that he had observed at the marriage feast at Cana when the young rabbi Jesus  turned water into wine. Saint-Germain spoke and wrote Greek, Latin, Sanskrit, Arabic, Chinese, French, German, English, Italian, Portugese, and Spanish. He was also a skilled painter and an achieved virtuoso on the harpsichord and violin. The count was also a good alchemist, and it was widely rumored that he had been successful in transforming base metals into gold. It was believed that he could eliminate flaws from diamonds, and in this way enhanced one of the gem stones of King Louis XV (1710–1774). His chemical training far surpassed that of his contemporaries of the eighteenth century. His ability at mixing pigments was regarded as extraordinary, and famous painters begged in vain for the count to disclose his formulas.

It was also claimed by many that Saint Germain could render himself invisible—a remarkable accomplishment believed to have been frequently observed. He was also a skillful hypnotist and could fall at will into a state of selfhypnosis. Members of Europe’s royal courts also heard him talk frequently of an invention that would happen in the next century and which would unite people of all lands. He called it a steamboat, and he implied that it would be he who would be on hand in the future to help construct the boat.

Who was the Count of Saint-Germain and what was his true place of origin?

The mystery has never been solved, and he remains one of history’s most intriguing enigmas. Some scholars have conjected that the man was a clever spy on a top secret mission who had intentionally shrouded his past with mystery. Why, these scholars ask, would the skeptical Prussian King Frederick promote this kind of fabulous tales of the count unless of course he had some reason to do so? Saint-Germain seems to betray himself as a diplomat with his amazing knowledge of the political past. Having acquired access to secret court files, he could have studied European history meticulously and with earnest purpose. His wide range of claimed artistic abilities may have been amateurish, but wildly exaggerated by those who would stand to gain by the count’s missions. As a result of tales told about him and his peculiar habits (his vegetarianism meant he declined dinner invitations—even from King Louis XV—and so he was thought not to require refreshment!) his interest in longevity, his peacemaking moves on behalf of the French government, and his general brilliance and philosophical acuity—all combined to give him the luster of a Great Adept and rendered it certain that one such as he would enter the annals of legend.


Old records indicate that Saint-Germain died in the arms of two chambermaids at the court of the Landgrave of Hessen-Cassel, a passionate alchemist. He was buried in the Nicolaikirche in Eckernförde on February 22, 1784, having been supported in a very friendly manner by Freemason, and supporter of Hans Heinrich von Ecker und Eckhoffen, Landgraf Carl von Hessen-Kassel. According to the landgrave’s memoirs (Mémoirs de mon temps, 1861), St. Germain was the son of Rakoczy II of Transylvania. St. Germain used a variety of names and titles, an accepted practice amongst royalty and nobility at the time. These include the Marquis de Montferrat, Comte Bellamarre, Chevalier Schoening, Count Weldon, Comte Soltikoff, Graf Tzarogy and Prinz Rakoczy. But despite his supposed death, there are many documented occasions of the reappearance of the count. Many assume that he only feigned death, just as he had done many times before, so that he could continue drinking of his elixir of life and observing world events from a more quiet viewpoint. After the fall of the Bastille in July 1789, Marie Antoinette been sent a letter of warning that was allegedly signed by the Count of Saint-Germain. Madame Adhemar, Marie Antoinette’s confident, held a rendezvous with the count in a chapel. Saint-Germain, then apparently dead for five years, informed her that he had done whatever he could to stop the Revolution, but that the great magician Cagliostro, had taken control of the events. It was further said that the Count of Saint-Germain showed himself a number of times during the French Revolution. He was said to have been identified frequently near the guillotine, sadly shaking his head at the bloody work caused by his pupil, Cagliostro. The bloating of the legend was further exacerbated by the interest in him shown by the omnivorous, if fussy, matriarch of the Theosophical Society, Madame Blavatsky (1831–1891), and other leading members of her influential society, of which Rudolf Steiner was himself a member.

Even today, still many believe the Count of Saint-Germain still lives, periodically feigning death in whatever guise he continues to walk the earth, so that he might on occasion offer his counsel to those men and women in high political places.

Isn’t this weird or what?

Saint Germain


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