Madame Blavatsky

by Marion Meade

  By this time, Solovyov was spellbound. “Suddenly I heard distinctly, quite distinctly, somewhere above our heads, near the ceiling, a very melodious sound like a little silver bell or an Aeolian harp,” and when he asked the meaning of it, H.P.B. said that it signified the presence of her Master, who had just informed her she could trust Solovyov “and am to do for you whatever I can.” The bell, she told him, was only a bare beginning. “You shall hear and see still more, if you only wish.”

  “Of course I wish, Helena Petrovna,”30 Solovyov responded gravely. He would later insist he left Madame that first day feeling confused and suspicious, and continued so throughout their relationship, but he was being less than candid. On the contrary, he felt strongly drawn toward her and paid her visits nearly every day for the next six weeks. Without being urged, he joined the Theosophical Society and made a nuisance of himself by nagging her for occult secrets; he gobbled up every word she said and repeatedly pleaded for phenomena. To everyone he met, he lauded Madame, swearing his belief in her psychic power and the miracles she produced. He even wrote her a poem:

  To the wonderful world, to the abode of far-off dreams,

  I seek to soar in spirit, if only for a moment,

  And knock again at the forgotten door

  With trembling hand.31

  If the poem was puerile, the emotion behind it was not. To the young Russian, H.P.B. seemed “the one fresh and living interest in this lonely life,” and if she had been young and beautiful, he might have fallen in love with her; since she was not, he had to content himself with the pleasures of companionship. He grew to love her apartment, which reminded him of a Russian country house, and he thought of Helena as “an incarnation of the type of old-time Russian country lady of moderate means, grown stout in her farm-house.” Sitting across the table from her in the drawing room, he observed the flowing, one-piece black robe she always wore and the nicotine-stained fingers sparkling with diamonds, emeralds and rubies. She smoked constantly, spraying her clothing and the carpets with ashes, and she talked. To Solovyov, she was exhilarating and utterly absorbing.

  During the month of May, Helena saw a good deal of Solovyov and his woman friend Justine Glinka. The daughter of a former Russian ambassador to Brazil, Justine held the rank of a maid of honor at the Russian court and moved in high social and political circles. According to Solovyov, she was “continually surrounded by ‘phenomena’ and miracles of all sorts; her marvelous stories of what happened to her at every step were enough to make one’s head swim. She did not live in Russia and had lodgings in Paris; but she was continually vanishing, no one knew where, and was absorbed in some very complicated and intricate affairs of her own.”32 Since Solovyov was intimately acquainted with Justine, having seduced her when she was only thirteen, he knew very well that she was an agent of the Russian secret police. At one time, she had collected and forwarded anti-Semitic documents to Russia, and in 1881 was assigned to report on the activities of Russian terrorists exiled in Paris. Apparently she was not very good at espionage because her cover was quickly blown by the left-wing press.

  Aside from intelligence-gathering, Justine Glinka’s chief interest was occultism, and, when the occasion presented itself, she liked to combine the two. As a member of the Theosophical Society and a sincere admirer of its foundress, she had been greatly distressed to hear another maid of honor, Olga Smirnoff, casually remark that the Tiflis Police Court had convicted Madame Blavatsky of “theft, cheating and deceit.”33

  An indignant Justine told Smirnoff she could not believe that the author of Isis Unveiled, a woman “at a very high rank in the order of genius,”34 could be a criminal, but Smirnoff insisted it was so. Furious because she lacked the facts to refute Smirnoff, Justine wrote to Prince Dondoukoff-Korsakoff asking for official clarification from the Tiflis court. Since this apparently was not forthcoming, she decided to conduct her own investigation and requested Olga Smirnoff to prepare a dossier listing everything she knew of Madame Blavatsky. Smirnoff, only too happy to oblige, seems to have gathered a great deal of information on H.P.B. and her family, some of it accurate, some false, and some hearsay abundantly laced with malice. Rostislav Fadeyev she described as the owner of “a not very enviable reputation” and Vera “married Jelihovsky, a true gentleman who became mad because of her bad conduct. After his death she left for Odessa where she continued to live in a disorderly manner.” As for Madame herself, she was known to have had numerous lovers, including Prince Dondoukoff-Korsakoff “who had also a good time with her,” bore “many” illegitimate children, and

  went so far as to try and obtain money, not only from her lovers, but by all sorts of dishonest and ignoble and unlawful means and by swindling. The police in Tiflis wanted to arrest her for her misdeeds, but she fled to her sister in Odessa. The police in Tiflis informed the police in Odessa and she again fled. Then she... came secretly to Tiflis, where she mixed with the lowest society, living a dissolute life, drinking and demoralizing the young girls, inviting them to harems and acquiring money by all kinds of low means, in a most disgusting and dirty way. Complaints were made to the police by the people whom she had deceived and robbed.35

  The report concluded with a crisp summary: “For more than 30 years she has not dared to show herself in the Caucasus, knowing that she would be immediately arrested, put into prison and deported to Siberia, for she is well known and her affair is a criminal case.”36 Justine Glinka refused to believe Smirnoff ‘s revelations and since she considered Madame Blavatsky a friend felt it only proper to show her the Smirnoff letter.

  H.P.B. was furious, of course, as well as dismayed; on the heels of the exuberant welcome from the Russians in Nice, she had begun to feel less like an outcast; she had almost persuaded herself that people at home had forgotten her youthful indiscretions. But apparently she still had plenty of enemies, among them Olga Smirnoff, whom she had never met. Many things had been written about Helena, most recently by Emma to Henry disclosing everything she knew about Agardi Metrovitch and Yuri. The disclosures had elicited an indignant response from H.P.B.: “For those who know me from my childhood I am the personification of chastity,”37 but nobody had yet dared call her a thief and swindler.

  Smirnoff, “a withered old maid subject to hysteria and hallucinations,”38 could have taken out a patent on poison; H.P.B. called her an “old hag spitting venom,” and had to admit that “La Smirnoff”39 had gone too far. With Emma’s potential blackmail hanging over her head, she would have preferred to ignore this latest peril, but Glinka and Solovyov must have insisted that she sue for defamation of character. In the end, Helena wearily filed a petition, asking the court of Tiflis to certify that no criminal or civil case had ever been brought against her.40

  When Vera and Nadyezhda arrived on May 12, Helena begged Solovyov to come at once and meet them. He found her in a jubilant mood that was delightful to see, as well as a little sad: the awesome high priestess had been completely transfigured into merely “an affectionate woman, worn out by long and far-off sufferings, by adventures of every sort, by work and troubles,” who was reunited with her relatives after many years of exile. It was clear to him that Helena Petrovna was most attached to Nadyezhda, “an old maid of nearly sixty”41 in Solovyov’s phrase, because she immediately made her an honorary member of the Theosophical Society and crowed that her aunt’s membership proved the Theosophists had nothing against Christianity since Nadyezhda was a fiery Christian. As for Vera, Solovyov noticed she received only an ordinary membership diploma and it also struck him that Helena was patronizing with her sister. If she was, it was certainly inadvertent because H.P.B. felt immensely happy to see both women. They had brought with them black bread and caviar, and Helena dove into them like a starving child.

  Most of their initial conversation centered on Rostislav’s death, which had hit Nadyezhda particularly hard. Curiously enough, his passing struck her as a supreme injustice and roused her indignation, but her shock is surprising because Rost
islav had been ill for some time. They talked, too, of their childhood and when they insisted upon calling her a medium, H.P.B. would roll her eyes in exasperation and declare it was untrue. She hastened to explain that all her childhood phenomena had been the work of the Masters, who had preordained her as their emissary and subsequently guided her life. Before long, Vera and Nadyezhda were quarreling over Helena’s powers.

  Her relatives’ presence had a therapeutic effect on H.P.B. until news of the troubles at Adyar began to pour in by letter and cable. The timetable of events seems to have gone like this:

  May 14: The General Council of the Theosophical Society meets formally to lay twelve charges of blackmail, extortion, slander, etc., against the Coulombs, after which they are expelled from membership and requested to vacate the premises. The Coulombs refuse to accept the decision, or as Emma put it, “Of all this we took very little notice.”42

  May 16: In his official capacity as Pleader of the Madras High Court, Subba Row threatens the Coulombs with criminal and civil proceedings, stating that they have committed punishable offenses under Section 500 of the Indian Penal Code. Lane-Fox bars them from the dining room and kitchen.

  May 17: At the request of the Board, H.P.B. sends a telegram authorizing Franz Hartmann to take exclusive possession of her room as well as the Occult Room.

  May 18: Alexis Coulomb hands over the keys to H.P.B.’s rooms... H.P.B. sends the Coulombs a cable: “SORRY YOU GO, PROSPER....”43 Damodar advises the Coulombs they will be charged five rupees per day rent as long as they remain on the premises.

  May 19: In Paris, H.P.B. receives a letter from Emma threatening to make public the incriminating letters. She cables back: “WHAT CAN BE DONE. TELEGRAPH.”44 She receives no answer. Hartmann and William Brown root up the hedges shading the windows of the Coulombs’ rooms and threaten to remove the windows and doors. After Emma goes for the police, Lane-Fox completely loses his head and assaults the inspector, for which he is fined two hundred and fifty rupees.

  May 22: The Board of Control offers to pay for second-class passages to San Francisco. To this Emma replies that they “would not leave the country except we had our journey paid and 3000 Rs. in hand—this was not for the sake of money, but to have means to come back in case Madame Blavatsky accused us of having done the sliding panels, etc., in her absence.”45 Her counter-offer is rejected by the Council.

  May 23: The Coulombs leave Adyar and take a room in Madras.

  Throughout the high drama, Helena entertained her relatives, smiled, played patience, finished off the rest of the caviar her aunt and sister had brought from Odessa—and churned with fear for what could still happen in India. Hypocrisy was not among her many shortcomings and it is probable she sincerely meant the last telegram to the Coulombs, expressing sorrow at their departure and wishing them luck. Possibly she believed that the unpleasantness had finally ended; but, at the same time, she was composing a point-by-point defense of each of Emma’s accusations. This document, entitled “My Justification by H.P.B.,” is marked by a frightening incoherence: “If you or any of you verily believe that I was ever guilty consciously of any trick or that I used the Coulombs as confederates or any one else, and that I am not quite the victim of the most damnable conspiracy ever set on foot, a conspiracy which was being prepared for five years-—then telegraph me where I am Never show your face again in the Society—and I will not. LET ME PERISH BUT LET THE SOCIETY LIVE AND TRIUMPH.” May she never see the Masters again, she moaned, if she had ever used sliding panels or trapdoors, because “They would never have permitted me to do such a thing.”46 For whom she meant this manuscript is unclear, because it was not published until 1931.

  At the end of May, when Olcott returned for a two-week visit, Helena had assembled around her everyone she could call her family. When outsiders inquired about her health, she would declare that she was not well, but it was obviously untrue. She appeared to be in excellent health and, better yet, in the best of moods, and Solovyov remembered her as wearing “a happy and good-naturedly subtle smile.”47

  On June 11, around noon, Solovyov paid his daily call and as usual found in the drawing room H.P.B., Olcott, Judge, Vera, and Emiie de Morsier. Nadyezhda was in her room. While Helena Petrovna appeared a bit more high-strung than usual, nothing particular seemed to be in the offing. Presently the door bell rang and since his chair was facing the front door, Solovyov had a clear view of Babula answering it and returning with a letter which he handed to his mistress. After glancing at the envelope, both H.P.B. and Vera remarked that it was for Nadyezhda, from a relative in Odessa. As Solovyov recalled the sequence of events, “Helena Petrovna, quite unexpectedly to us all, proposed to read this letter in its sealed envelope.”

  “No, that is nonsense,” Vera said in disbelief. “It is impossible. You will never do it.”

  Pressing the letter against her forehead, Helena began to speak haltingly and with her free hand began writing on a sheet of paper; when she had finished, a still-skeptical Vera declared that it was unlikely such sentiments would be found in the letter. Helena seemed irritated at her sister’s carping because she drew the Theosophical symbol on her paper with a red pencil, then scowled at Vera and said: “This sign must be at the end of the letter.”48

  When the message was delivered to Nadyezhda’s room and torn open, the contents were revealed to be similar, although not identical, to Helena’s version. At the bottom of the page was the Theosophical sign.

  Only afterward did it occur to Solovyov that the letter could have been intercepted by Babula and doctored by Helena with a red pencil, or that Nadyezhda had had plenty of opportunity to switch letters or envelopes. At the time, however, he had no such qualms, and he wrote an enthusiastic account of the phenomenon for the Rebus.

  While the ability to read the text of letters in sealed envelopes is rare, it is not unique; even in Russia at that time at least one psychologist was conducting experiments with a patient suffering from hystero-epilepsy who could do exactly what H.P.B. claimed she had done. Nevertheless, given the behind-the-scenes struggle taking place in H.P.B.’s household at the moment, it is improbable that the letter phenomenon was genuine.

  The visit with her sister was proving a strain for Vera Zhelihovsky. Honesty compelled her to admit that she had little in common with Helena, but, after so many years, she was accustomed to her unusual behavior. Helena had sometimes shocked her so terribly that she had closed her eyes rather than acknowledge her sister’s actions; and also there were times when she regarded H.P.B. with overwhelming pity. When Helena had asked her to write for Russian journals about the Theosophical Society and her unique paranormal powers, Vera had obliged whenever possible, but now Helena was asking the impossible. She would sacrifice a great deal for her sake, but she was not prepared to forfeit her conscience.

  For many years, but especially in the past few weeks, Helena had been begging a favor, a trifle she called it, “but for me, if I fell in with her wishes, it would be a crime,” Vera confessed. Yet her sister persisted. “So it seems,” she told Vera, “that you do not love me, if you will not even do this for me. What will it cost you? Don’t you see that this is simply childish simplicity?”

  Nadyezhda, eagerly leaping to Helena’s aid, declared that if Vera really loved her sister, she would do as Helena asked. “No one but me loves Helena,”49 the aunt exclaimed.

  One afternoon in June, Vera sat on a bench in the Pare Monceau with Solovyov and tried to explain away her anguish without revealing its cause. Nadyezhda, she blurted out, “has no bounds for her pity for Helena, but is that real love? Can it be that one should take to falsehood and crime to prove one’s love?”50 As Rostislav was dying, she said, he had begged her not to yield to Helena’s demands; instead she must show her sister that she was doing herself irreparable harm.

  “You are only talking in riddles,” a confused Solovyov finally grumbled.

  “I cannot talk in any other way,” Vera answered, adding that she had alread
y said too much. She had dotted most of the fs, and he could do the rest for himself.

  Did she mean to insinuate, Solovyov demanded, that the Mahatmas and the phenomena were nothing but deceit? “I say nothing,” replied Vera, and refused to utter another word.

  After a few weeks of uneasy community, Olcott went back to London and Judge left for India. Helena announced she was too weak to do more phenomena, although occasionally she did treat Vera and her aunt and Solovyov to the sounds of her silver bell. The group amused themselves, Solovyov recalled, by questioning Babula about life at Adyar. When Vera would ask him if he had ever seen the Mahatmas, he would laugh: “I have often seen them.” “What are they like?” she persisted.

  “They are fine!” And with another laugh, he added, “Muslin!”51 Calling him a dreadful rascal, Nadyezhda repeated the question but all she could get out of Babula was the word muslin and roars of laughter. Toward the end of June the Russian women talked about going home, and Helena professed herself eager to shake from her feet the dust of Paris, “which city I hate.”52 Since there was nothing more for her to do there, she would go to London and stay with Francesca Arundale. Three days before the departure, Nadyezhda agreed to grant the favor that Vera had refused her; it was to be an act that would be Helena’s life insurance against Emma Coulomb. On June 26, Nadyezhda wrote to Henry Olcott that, fourteen years earlier, she had felt very anxious about Helena, from whom she had not heard for some time. “We were ready to believe her dead, when—I received a letter from Him Whom I believe you call ‘Kouth Humi,’ which was brought to me in the most incomprehensible and mysterious manner, in my house by a messenger of Asiatic appearance, who then disappeared before my very eyes.”53 Nadyezhda did not have the letter with her, but, true to her word, sent it to Henry when she returned to Odessa.