Ramessids. The grave of the prophet was never known, and Saint-
Germain may have insinuated that he began a new avatar in a cleft
of Mount Pisgah; he was capable of it.

However, a less wild surmise avers that, in 1763, the secrets of
his birth and the source of his opulence were known in Holland.
The authority is the Memoirs of Grosley (1813). Grosley was an
archaeologist of Troyes; he had traveled in Italy, and written an
account of his travels; he also visited Holland and England, and
later, from a Dutchman, he picked up his information about Saint-
Germain. Grosley was a Fellow of our Royal Society, and I greatly
revere the authority of a F.R.S. His later years were occupied in
the compilation of his Memoirs, including an account of what he did
and heard in Holland, and he died in 1785. According to Grosley's
account of what the Dutchman knew, Saint-Germain was the son of a
princess who fled (obviously from Spain) to Bayonne, and of a
Portuguese Jew dwelling in Bordeaux.

What fairy and fugitive princess can this be, whom not in vain the
ardent Hebrew wooed? She was, she must have been, as Grosley saw,
the heroine of Victor Hugo's Ruy Blas. The unhappy Charles II. of
Spain, a kind of "mammet" (as the English called the Richard II.
who appeared up in Islay, having escaped from Pomfret Castle), had
for his first wife a daughter of Henrietta, the favorite sister of
our Charles II. This childless bride, after some ghostly years of
matrimony, after being exorcised in disgusting circumstances, died
in February, 1689. In May, 1690 a new bride, Marie de Neuborg, was
brought to the grisly side of the crowned mammet of Spain. She,
too, failed to prevent the wars of the Spanish Succession by giving
an heir to the Crown of Spain. Scandalous chronicles aver that