🇺🇸▼
Hidden inside a grand villa near Paris lived a man who had worn many different masks during his long life. As a young man, he worked as a priest, a teacher, and a writer. By the time he died in 1906, he had created a final, grand identity: a prince. He claimed to be a direct descendant of a Crusader king from the twelfth century. In this elaborate royal disguise, he spent decades tricking people around the world. He sold fake knighthoods for very high prices, convincing many that they had bought noble status. We know him today as Ambroise Calfa, though he preferred the grand title of His Royal Highness Guy de Lusignan, Prince of Cyprus, Jerusalem, and Armenia.
His journey began in the 1830s in Istanbul, Turkey, where he was born into an Armenian family. As a young boy, he was sent to study on the island of San Lazzaro near Venice. This island held an Armenian Catholic monastery and served as a major center for learning. Calfa stayed there for many years and eventually became a monk with the Mekhitarist Congregation. This religious group was famous for its strict focus on education and serious study. In the early 1850s, he was sent to teach in Paris. While working in the French capital, he also wrote textbooks designed to help Armenian students learn French and other important subjects.
Calfa did not stay a monk forever. In 1855, he was kicked out of his religious group. Historical records say this happened because he strongly argued against a plan to limit the number of students they accepted. In response, he and two other monks started their own school in Paris called the Collège National Arménien. This new school accepted all Armenian boys, no matter how poor their families were. They also started a two-language newspaper to share European ideas with Armenians and to introduce Armenian culture to Europeans. This unique ability to bridge two different worlds would later help him pull off his big scams, as he could use the general lack of knowledge in Europe about Armenian history to his advantage.
During the 1860s, the path of Calfa's life changed completely. He married Marie-Louise-Joséphine Legoupil, a wealthy widow who had once been the lover of a baron. They lived a lifestyle that clearly showed they belonged to high society. It was even recorded that the famous French writer Victor Hugo once rented a room in their house. After more than a decade of a relatively quiet life, Calfa made a bold announcement to the world. He declared that he was a long-lost prince of the medieval House of Lusignan.
The Lusignans were a distinguished noble family from France. During the Crusades, several members of this family gained great power in the Middle East. They ruled over Jerusalem, Cyprus, and large parts of Armenia. Calfa now called himself Prince Guy de Lusignan, claiming he was the direct descendant of a Crusader king who shared his name.
At first, this royal claim might have had honest intentions. In 1878, Calfa and his brothers said they received a letter from a man in St. Petersburg. This man, who called himself Louis de Lusignan, wrote to say that he recognized the Calfa brothers as true members of the Lusignan family. He urged them to officially claim their titles. This happened during a hopeful time for Armenians in the Ottoman Empire, who were trying to gain political freedom after a recent war.
Calfa used his new identity to become a voice for the Armenian people. He wrote letters to European leaders and signed them as a prince. His brother even joined an Armenian group at a major political meeting in Berlin. They were following the path of a previous imposter, known as Prince Léon of Armenia, who had also pretended to be royalty to get help for Armenians. For a while, the Calfa brothers used their royal disguise to give a voice to a group that was being persecuted.
These political efforts eventually failed to achieve their goals. However, for Calfa, the performance was just beginning. What may have started with some good intentions quickly turned into a profitable business during the 1880s and 1890s. He and his wife took advantage of social climbers who desperately wanted the prestige of a knighthood.
In the nineteenth century, belonging to a group of knights was very popular. Originally, knighthood was given by royalty to noblemen for acts of service. By this time, it was still an honor granted by heads of state, but it had become much more common. This situation created the perfect chance for fraudsters. Fake groups led by fake royalty appeared, and anyone willing to pay the price could buy a knighthood.
Calfa and his wife named themselves the Grand Master and Grand Mistress of two groups linked to the Lusignan name. These were the Order of Mélusine and, after Marie died, the Order of Saint Catherine of Mount Sinai. From these positions, they sold knighthoods to anyone who wanted social status.
A young Armenian writer named Yervant Odian worked for Calfa in 1900. He was checking a huge French-Armenian dictionary that the "prince" was writing. This job gave Odian a special view inside the scam. By that time, Calfa had been running the fraud for almost twenty years. Odian's memoir later revealed exactly how the operation worked.
The couple had created an air of exclusivity around their business. They sent letters to important people in faraway countries, giving them knighthoods in the Order of Mélusine. They specifically targeted leaders from places like Liberia, Venezuela, Haiti, Spain, and Portugal, as well as Catholic cardinals. Being so far from France helped them avoid close inspection by local officials. Some recipients, completely fooled by the trick, even sent thank-you notes. Clara Barton, the founder of the American Red Cross, was one such knight, and she included her fancy certificate in her memoir.
While making money was an obvious goal, the Order of Mélusine might have also been an attempt to get support for Armenians. New knights were required to accept a duty to "protect the miserable population of Armenia." It is unlikely that many took this job seriously, but the campaign did spread awareness and attracted more customers.
Odian saw hopeful men from around the world arriving at the Villa de Lusignan. He described one man from Argentina who arrived without an appointment. Calfa's driver, acting like a butler, turned him away, saying that the prince only saw people by appointment. The man sent a flattering letter the next day, asking to become a knight.
At his scheduled meeting, the man was greeted by Calfa's secretary, Marguerite. She led him to the elderly "prince." He showed his recommendations but was told he needed to formally ask for a knighthood. This required listing his good deeds. He returned with a long list: he was very religious, had protected orphans, saved children from a fire, and served bravely in the military.
The man was invited back to finish his knighthood. Through his secretary, Calfa praised how special the order was. The man asked how he could become a knight of the highest, most glittering rank. The secretary explained that he first needed to donate 2,000 francs to help maintain the Monastery of Saint Catherine and its hundreds of nuns. Shocked by the price, the man tried to bargain.
Odian watched many such negotiations. The secretary would stand firm until the customer seemed ready to leave. Then, she would promise to ask the prince for a discount. Eventually, Calfa would "generously" agree to pay part of the cost himself. This trick made the customer feel special and valued.
Finally, a knighting ceremony was arranged. The Argentinian returned in a black suit to a hall decorated with ribbons and badges. "Prince Guy" stood before him as his secretary introduced him with great respect. The man knelt, was reminded of his knightly duties, and received his certificate.
Ambroise Calfa was a complicated historical figure. He was certainly a con man who tricked people out of their money for decades. Yet, threads of his earlier life as an educator and an advocate for Armenians ran through his later schemes. He used some of his profits to hire young Armenians in Paris to work on his dictionary. His initial turn to royalty may have been an attempt, however flawed, to help his people gain recognition on the world stage. In the end, however, the story of the fake Prince of Lusignan is a masterclass in deception. It shows how human vanity and a strong desire for status can be expertly used by a skilled manipulator.