Of Italian origin, Doctor Count Albert de Sarak, who, in fact, was neither a doctor, nor a count, nor named Sarak, was one of the more dishevelling figures of pseudopsychism. His true name was Alberto Santini-Sgaluppi, but he was successively known as: the Commander Sartini Knight of Albert, the Knight Sartini de Rosarno, the Count de Das, Magnetiseur Sartini, the Count Alberto de Sarak and, finally, Doctor Count Albert de Sarak.
He was entitled modestly: General Inspector of the Supreme Esoteric Council of the Orient, the Maitre venere (loosely translates maybe to : the Superior One Who Has Come), the Great Chemist, the Prime Minister of the Initiates of India (where he had never set foot), the Messenger of the Light, etc, etc.
This daring, cynical, and conceited charlatan made innumerable victims, not only in the milieu of psychic mediums, but also in the world of Sciences, the Letters, and Arts.
He sold titles of nobility wholly authentic that he created himself and he even went so far as to decorate one to Victor Hugo, with great splendor, using an imaginary decoration.
His "psychic" experiments that he presented in the style of Yogi or Grand Initiates were really more suitably characterized as base conjuring tricks. In addition to the turns (tricks) which we have discussed in the beginning part of this book, he performed the traditional experiment of the calling card torn into 3 or 4 pieces - where afterwards one finds: one in the pocket of a witness, another in a book, one third underneath the foot of an assistant, etc... He named this turn: "The Phenomenon of Dematerialization and Rematerialisation".
The experiment known as "The Instantaneously Hatching Fish", of which we have also discussed, made a big impression, but unfortunately for the Yogi, it was, as we will see, unmasked in delightful circumstances.
Sarak, as we have said, showed the witnesses some caviar grains, and threw them into a large glass half-filled with water. He then sat down in an armchair and placed the container between his legs. He spread out a white drapery, that an assistant was requested to support, above his chest and to his knees. Sarak moaned and pronounced odd words. After ten minutes went by, he raised the drapery and revealed that the caviar grains had given birth to half a dozen small red fish.
But, one evening, a lady noted to the fakir that, during this experiment, he was hiding under his dress a rubber apparatus containing water with fish, both arriving there via tube in a small aquarium held by the Yogi. In reaction to his deceit, she exclaimed: "You take us for pears! (i.e. fools)"
To erase the bad impression made with this justifiable remark by a witness, Sarak had the idea then to put the fish, which he supposedly had just made hatch, into glasses, and to offer them to the ladies present. Ay! What a terrible idea ! it was, indeed, for on that day, little Sarak (his son) assisted in the sensational experience. Seeing the way his father distributed the fish, he was provoked to produce the cries of a sea eagle, felt the urge to cry, and was compelled to run towards his mother, where circumstances forced him to exclaim: "Mommy, they take all my fish from me.".
The continuation is guessed.
(Translator's note: Actually a better translation is "You can guess what happened next.", but I just like it better.)
Moreover, some time after this incident, the celebrated illusionist Caroly revealed all the tricks of the Yogi in 'Illusionniste', a journal about conjuration for amateurs and professionals.
One could think that after this double demasking, Sarak lost all his creditability. Nope. Many people continued to regard the charlatan as a true and powerful fakir and supported him financially. Encouraged, the false magus raised the bar and pushed the same impudence. Several publications had revealed his tricks, but he was shrewd enough not to take it to court. Then, he left Paris to go to dupe some new victims in other countries.
