the life of Raymond Lulli, assert, that while in Milan, he received
letters from Edward King of England, inviting him to settle in his states.
They add that Lulli gladly accepted the invitation, and had apartments
assigned for his use in the Tower of London, where he refined much gold;
superintended the coinage of "rose-nobles," and made gold out of iron,
quicksilver, lead, and pewter, to the amount of six millions. The writers
in the _Biographie Universelle_, an excellent authority in general, deny
that Raymond was ever in England, and say, that in all these stories of
his wondrous powers as an alchymist, he has been mistaken for another
Raymond, a Jew of Tarragona. Naudé, in his _Apologie_, says, simply, "that
six millions were given by Raymond Lulli to King Edward, to make war
against the Turks and other infidels:" not that he transmuted so much
metal into gold; but, as he afterwards adds, that he advised Edward to lay
a tax upon wool, which produced that amount. To shew that Raymond went to
England, his admirers quote a work attributed to him, _De Transmutatione
Animæ Metallorum_, in which he expressly says that he was in England at
the intercession of the king.[34] The hermetic writers are not agreed
whether it was Edward I. or Edward II. who invited him over; but, by
fixing the date of his journey in 1312, they make it appear that it was
Edward II. Edmond Dickenson, in his work on the _Quintessences of the
Philosophers_, says, that Raymond worked in Westminster Abbey, where, a
long time after his departure, there was found in the cell which he had
occupied a great quantity of golden dust, of which the architects made a
great profit. In the biographical sketch of John Cremer, Abbot of
Westminster, given by Lenglet, it is said that it was chiefly through his
instrumentality that Raymond came to England. Cremer had been himself for
thirty years occupied in the vain search for the philosopher's stone, when
he accidentally met Raymond in Italy, and endeavoured to induce him to
communicate his grand secret. Raymond told him that he must find it for
himself, as all great alchymists had done before him. Cremer, on his
return to England, spoke to King Edward in high terms of the wonderful
attainments of the philosopher, and a letter of invitation was forthwith
sent him. Robert Constantinus, in the _Nomenclator Scriptorum Medicorum_,
published in 1515, says, that after a great deal of research, he found
that Raymond Lulli resided for some time in London, and that he actually
made gold, by means of the philosopher's stone, in the Tower; that he had
seen the golden pieces of his coinage, which were still named in England
the nobles of Raymond, or rose-nobles. Lulli himself appears to have
boasted that he made gold; for, in his well-known _Testamentum_, he states
that he converted no less than fifty thousand pounds weight of
quicksilver, lead, and pewter into that metal.[35] It seems highly
probable that the English king, believing in the extraordinary powers of
the alchymist, invited him to England to make test of them, and that he
was employed in refining gold and in coining. Camden, who is not credulous
in matters like these, affords his countenance to the story of his coinage
of nobles; and there is nothing at all wonderful in the fact of a man
famous for his knowledge of metals being employed in such a capacity.
Raymond was, at this time, an old man, in his seventy-seventh year, and
somewhat in his dotage. He was willing enough to have it believed that he
had discovered the grand secret, and supported the rumour rather than
contradicted it. He did not long remain in England, but returned to Rome
to carry out the projects which were nearer to his heart than the
profession of alchymy. He had proposed them to several successive popes
with little or no success. The first was a plan for the introduction of
the oriental languages into all the monasteries of Europe; the second, for
the reduction into one of all the military orders, that, being united,
they might move more efficaciously against the Saracens; and the third,
that the sovereign pontiff should forbid the works of Averroes to be read
in the schools, as being more favourable to Mahometanism than to
Christianity. The pope did not receive the old man with much cordiality;
and, after remaining for about two years in Rome, he proceeded once more
to Africa, alone and unprotected, to preach the Gospel of Jesus. He landed
at Bona in 1314, and so irritated the Mahometans by cursing their prophet,
that they stoned him, and left him for dead on the sea-shore. He was found
some hours afterwards by a party of Genoese merchants, who conveyed him on
board their vessel, and sailed towards Majorca. The unfortunate man still
breathed, but could not articulate. He lingered in this state for some
days, and expired just as the vessel arrived within sight of his native
shores. His body was conveyed with great pomp to the church of St.
Eulalia, at Palma, where a public funeral was instituted in his honour.
Miracles were afterwards said to have been worked at his tomb.
[34] Vidimus omnia ista _dum ad Angliam transiimus, propter
intercessionem domini Regis Edoardi illustrissimi_.
[35] Converti una vice in aurum ad L millia pondo argenti vivi,
plumbi, et stanni.--_Lullii Testamentum_.
Thus ended the career of Raymond Lulli, one of the most extraordinary men
of his age; and, with the exception of his last boast about the six
millions of gold, the least inclined to quackery of any of the professors
of alchymy. His writings were very numerous, and include nearly five
hundred volumes, upon grammar, rhetoric, morals, theology, politics, civil
and canon law, physics, metaphysics, astronomy, medicine, and chemistry.
ROGER BACON.
The powerful delusion of alchymy seized upon a mind still greater than
that of Raymond Lulli. Roger Bacon firmly believed in the philosopher's
stone, and spent much of his time in search of it. His example helped to
render all the learned men of the time more convinced of its
practicability, and more eager in the pursuit. He was born at Ilchester,
in the county of Somerset, in the year 1214. He studied for some time in
the University of Oxford, and afterwards in that of Paris, in which he
received the degree of doctor of divinity. Returning to England in 1240,
he became a monk of the order of St. Francis. He was by far the most
learned man of his age; and his acquirements were so much above the
comprehension of his contemporaries, that they could only account for them
by supposing that he was indebted for them to the devil. Voltaire has not
inaptly designated him "De l'or encrouté de toutes les ordures de son
siècle;" but the crust of superstition that enveloped his powerful mind,
though it may have dimmed, could not obscure the brightness of his genius.
To him, and apparently to him only, among all the inquiring spirits of the
time, were known the properties of the concave and convex lens. He also
invented the magic lantern; that pretty plaything of modern days, which
acquired for him a reputation that embittered his life. In a history of
alchymy, the name of this great man cannot be omitted, although unlike
many others of whom we shall have occasion to speak, he only made it
secondary to other pursuits. The love of universal knowledge that filled
his mind, would not allow him to neglect one branch of science, of which
neither he nor the world could yet see the absurdity. He made ample amends
for his time lost in this pursuit by his knowledge in physics and his
acquaintance with astronomy. The telescope, burning-glasses, and
gunpowder, are discoveries which may well carry his fame to the remotest
time, and make the world blind to the one spot of folly--the diagnosis of
the age in which he lived, and the circumstances by which he was
surrounded. His treatise on the _Admirable Power of Art and Nature in the
Production of the Philosopher's Stone_ was translated into French by
Girard de Tormes, and published at Lyons in 1557. His _Mirror of Alchymy_
was also published in French in the same year, and in Paris in 1612, with
some additions from the works of Raymond Lulli. A complete list of all the
published treatises upon the subject may be seen in Lenglet du Fresnoy.
POPE JOHN XXII.
This prelate is said to have been the friend and pupil of Arnold de
Villeneuve, by whom he was instructed in all the secrets of alchymy.
Tradition asserts of him, that he made great quantities of gold, and died
as rich as Croesus. He was born at Cahors, in the province of Guienne, in
the year 1244. He was a very eloquent preacher, and soon reached high
dignity in the Church. He wrote a work on the transmutation of metals, and
had a famous laboratory at Avignon. He issued two bulls against the
numerous pretenders to the art, who had sprung up in every part of
Christendom; from which it might be inferred that he was himself free from
the delusion. The alchymists claim him, however, as one of the most
distinguished and successful professors of their art, and say that his
bulls were not directed against the real adepts, but the false pretenders.
They lay particular stress upon these words in his bull, "Spondent, quas
non exhibent, divitias, _pauperes_ alchymistæ." These, it is clear, they
say, relate only to _poor_ alchymists, and therefore false ones. He died
in the year 1344, leaving in his coffers a sum of eighteen millions of
florins. Popular belief alleged that he had made, and not amassed, this
treasure; and alchymists complacently cite this as a proof that the
philosopher's stone was not such a chimera as the incredulous pretended.
They take it for granted that John really left this money, and ask by what
possible means he could have accumulated it. Replying to their own
question, they say triumphantly, "His book shews it was by alchymy, the
secrets of which he learned from Arnold de Villeneuve and Raymond Lulli.
But he was as prudent as all other hermetic philosophers. Whoever would
read his book to find out his secret, would employ all his labour in vain;
the pope took good care not to divulge it." Unluckily for their own
credit, all these gold-makers are in the same predicament; their great
secret loses its worth most wonderfully in the telling, and therefore they
keep it snugly to themselves. Perhaps they thought that, if everybody
could transmute metals, gold would be so plentiful that it would be no
longer valuable, and that some new art would be requisite to transmute it
back again into steel and iron. If so, society is much indebted to them
for their forbearance.
JEAN DE MEUNG.
All classes of men dabbled in the art at this time; the last mentioned was
a pope, the one of whom we now speak was a poet. Jean de Meung, the
celebrated author of the _Roman de la Rose_, was born in the year 1279 or
1280, and was a great personage at the courts of Louis X., Philip the
Long, Charles IV., and Philip de Valois. His famous poem of the _Roman de
la Rose_, which treats of every subject in vogue at that day, necessarily
makes great mention of alchymy. Jean was a firm believer in the art, and
wrote, besides his Roman, two shorter poems, the one entitled _The
Remonstrance of Nature to the wandering Alchymist_ and _The Reply of the
Alchymist to Nature_. Poetry and alchymy were his delight, and priests and
women were his abomination. A pleasant story is related of him and the
ladies of the court of Charles IV. He had written the following libellous
couplet upon the fair sex:
"Toutes êtes, serez, ou fûtes,
De fait ou de volonté, putains;
Et qui très bien vous chercherait,
Toutes putains vous trouverait."[36]
[36] These verses are but a coarser expression of the slanderous
line of Pope, that "every woman is at heart a rake."
This naturally gave great offence; and being perceived one day in the
king's antechamber, by some ladies who were waiting for an audience, they
resolved to punish him. To the number of ten or twelve, they armed
themselves with canes and rods, and surrounding the unlucky poet, called
upon the gentlemen present to strip him naked, that they might wreak just
vengeance upon him, and lash him through the streets of the town. Some of
the lords present were in no wise loath, and promised themselves great
sport from his punishment. But Jean de Meung was unmoved by their threats,
and stood up calmly in the midst of them, begging them to hear him first,
and then, if not satisfied, they might do as they liked with him. Silence
being restored, he stood upon a chair, and entered on his defence. He
acknowledged that he was the author of the obnoxious verses, but denied
that they bore reference to all womankind. He only meant to speak of the
vicious and abandoned, whereas those whom he saw around him were patterns
of virtue, loveliness, and modesty. If, however, any lady present thought
herself aggrieved, he would consent to be stripped, and she might lash him
till her arms were wearied. It is added, that by this means Jean escaped
his flogging, and that the wrath of the fair ones immediately subsided.
The gentlemen present were, however, of opinion, that if every lady in the
room whose character corresponded with the verses had taken him at his
word; the poet would in all probability have been beaten to death. All his
life long he evinced a great animosity towards the priesthood, and his
famous poem abounds with passages reflecting upon their avarice, cruelty,
and immorality. At his death he left a large box, filled with some weighty
material, which he bequeathed to the Cordeliers, as a peace-offering, for
the abuse he had lavished upon them. As his practice of alchymy was well
known, it was thought the box was filled with gold and silver, and the
Cordeliers congratulated each other on their rich acquisition. When it
came to be opened, they found to their horror that it was filled only with
_slates_, scratched with hieroglyphic and cabalistic characters. Indignant
at the insult, they determined to refuse him Christian burial, on pretence
that he was a sorcerer. He was, however, honourably buried in Paris, the
whole court attending his funeral.
NICHOLAS FLAMEL.
The story of this alchymist, as handed down by tradition, and enshrined in
the pages of Lenglet da Fresnoy, is not a little marvellous. He was born
at Pontoise, of a poor but respectable family, at the end of the
thirteenth, or beginning of the fourteenth century. Having no patrimony,
he set out for Paris at an early age, to try his fortune as a public
scribe. He had received a good education, was well skilled in the learned
languages, and was an excellent penman. He soon procured occupation as a
letter-writer and copyist, and used to sit at the corner of the Rue de
Marivaux, and practise his calling; but he hardly made profit enough to
keep body and soul together. To mend his fortunes he tried poetry; but
this was a more wretched occupation still. As a transcriber he had at
least gained bread and cheese; but his rhymes were not worth a crust. He
then tried painting with as little success; and as a last resource, began
to search for the philosopher's stone and tell fortunes. This was a
happier idea; he soon increased in substance, and had wherewithal to live
comfortably. He therefore took unto himself his wife Petronella, and began
to save money; but continued to all outward appearance as poor and
miserable as before. In the course of a few years, he became desperately
addicted to the study of alchymy, and thought of nothing but the
philosopher's stone, the elixir of life, and the universal alkahest. In
the year 1257, he bought by chance an old book for two florins, which soon
became his sole study. It was written with a steel instrument upon the
bark of trees, and contained twenty-one, or as he himself always expressed
it, three times seven, leaves. The writing was very elegant and in the
Latin language. Each seventh leaf contained a picture and no writing. On
the first of these was a serpent swallowing rods; on the second, a cross
with a serpent crucified; and on the third, the representation of a
desert, in the midst of which was a fountain, with serpents crawling from
side to side. It purported to be written by no less a personage than
"Abraham, patriarch, Jew, prince, philosopher, priest, Levite, and
astrologer;" and invoked curses upon any one who should cast eyes upon it,
without being "a sacrificer or a scribe." Nicholas Flamel never thought it
extraordinary that Abraham should have known Latin, and was convinced that
the characters on his book had been traced by the hands of that great
patriarch himself. He was at first afraid to read it, after he became
aware of the curse it contained; but he got over that difficulty by
recollecting that, although he was not a sacrificer, he had practised as a
scribe. As he read he was filled with admiration, and found that it was a
perfect treatise upon the transmutation of metals. All the processes were
clearly explained; the vessels, the retorts, the mixtures, and the proper
times and seasons for experiment. But as ill-luck would have it, the
possession of the philosopher's stone, or prime agent in the work, was
presupposed. This was a difficulty which was not to be got over. It was
like telling a starving man how to cook a beef-steak, instead of giving
him the money to buy one. But Nicholas did not despair, and set about
studying the hieroglyphics and allegorical representations with which the
book abounded. He soon convinced himself that it had been one of the
sacred books of the Jews, and that it was taken from the temple of
Jerusalem on its destruction by Titus. The process of reasoning by which
he arrived at this conclusion is not stated.
From some expression in the treatise, he learned that the allegorical
drawings on the fourth and fifth leaves enshrined the secret of the
philosopher's stone, without which all the fine Latin of the directions
was utterly unavailing. He invited all the alchymists and learned men of
Paris to come and examine them, but they all departed as wise as they
came. Nobody could make any thing either of Nicholas or his pictures; and
some even went so far as to say that his invaluable book was not worth a
farthing. This was not to be borne; and Nicholas resolved to discover the
great secret by himself, without troubling the philosophers. He found on
the first page of the fourth leaf, the picture of Mercury attacked by an
old man resembling Saturn or Time. The latter had an hour-glass on his
head, and in his hand a scythe, with which he aimed a blow at Mercury's
feet. The reverse of the leaf represented a flower growing on a mountain
top, shaken rudely by the wind, with a blue stalk, red and white blossoms,
and leaves of pure gold. Around it were a great number of dragons and
griffins. On the first page of the fifth leaf was a fine garden, in the
midst of which was a rose-tree in full bloom, supported against the trunk
of a gigantic oak. At the foot of this there bubbled up a fountain of
milk-white water, which, forming a small stream, flowed through the
garden, and was afterwards lost in the sands. On the second page was a
king, with a sword in his hand, superintending a number of soldiers, who,
in execution of his orders, were killing a great multitude of young
children, spurning the prayers and tears of their mothers, who tried to
save them from destruction. The blood of the children was carefully
collected by another party of soldiers, and put into a large vessel, in
which two allegorical figures of the sun and moon were bathing themselves.
For twenty-one years poor Nicholas wearied himself with the study of these
pictures, but still he could make nothing of them. His wife Petronella at
last persuaded him to find out some learned rabbi; but there was no rabbi
in Paris learned enough to be of any service to him. The Jews met but
small encouragement to fix their abode in France, and all the chiefs of
that people were located in Spain. To Spain accordingly Nicholas Flamel
repaired. He left his book in Paris, for fear, perhaps, that he might be
robbed of it on the road; and telling his neighbours that he was going on
a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostello, he trudged on foot
towards Madrid in search of a rabbi. He was absent two years in that
country, and made himself known to a great number of Jews, descendants of
those who had been expelled from France in the reign of Philip Augustus.
The believers in the philosopher's stone give the following account of his
adventures: They say that at Leon he made the acquaintance of a converted
Jew, named Cauches, a very learned physician, to whom he explained the
title and nature of his little book. The doctor was transported with joy
as soon as he heard it named, and immediately resolved to accompany
Nicholas to Paris, that he might have a sight of it. The two set out
together; the doctor on the way entertaining his companion with the
history of his book, which, if the genuine book he thought it to be, from
the description he had heard of it, was in the handwriting of Abraham
himself, and had been in the possession of personages no less
distinguished than Moses, Joshua, Solomon, and Esdras. It contained all
the secrets of alchymy and of many other sciences, and was the most
valuable book that had ever existed in this world. The doctor was himself
no mean adept, and Nicholas profited greatly by his discourse, as in the
garb of poor pilgrims they wended their way to Paris, convinced of their
power to turn every old shovel in that capital into pure gold. But,
unfortunately, when they reached Orleans, the doctor was taken dangerously
ill. Nicholas watched by his bedside, and acted the double part of a
physician and nurse to him; but he died after a few days, lamenting with
his last breath that he had not lived long enough to see the precious
volume. Nicholas rendered the last honours to his body; and with a
sorrowful heart, and not one _sou_ in his pocket, proceeded home to his
wife Petronella. He immediately recommenced the study of his pictures; but
for two whole years he was as far from understanding them as ever. At
last, in the third year, a glimmer of light stole over his understanding.
He recalled some expression of his friend the doctor, which had hitherto
escaped his memory, and he found that all his previous experiments had
been conducted on a wrong basis. He recommenced them now with renewed
energy, and at the end of the year had the satisfaction to see all his
toils rewarded. On the 13th January 1382, says Lenglet, he made a
projection on mercury, and had some very excellent silver. On the 25th
April following, he converted a large quantity of mercury into gold, and
the great secret was his.
Nicholas was now about eighty years of age, and still a hale and stout old
man. His friends say that by a simultaneous discovery of the elixir of
life, he found means to keep death at a distance for another quarter of a
century; and that he died in 1415, at the age of 116. In this interval he
made immense quantities of gold, though to all outward appearance he was
as poor as a mouse. At an early period of his changed fortune, he had,
like a worthy man, taken counsel with his old wife Petronella, as to the
best use he could make of his wealth. Petronella replied, that as
unfortunately they had no children, the best thing he could do, was to
build hospitals and endow churches. Nicholas thought so too, especially
when he began to find that his elixir could not keep off death, and that
the grim foe was making rapid advances upon him. He richly endowed the
church of St. Jacques de la Boucherie, near the Rue de Marivaux, where he
had all his life resided, besides seven others in different parts of the
kingdom. He also endowed fourteen hospitals, and built three chapels.
The fame of his great wealth and his munificent benefactions soon spread
over all the country, and he was visited, among others, by the celebrated
doctors of that day, Jean Gerson, Jean de Courtecuisse, and Pierre
d'Ailli. They found him in his humble apartment, meanly clad, and eating
porridge out of an earthen vessel; and with regard to his secret, as
impenetrable as all his predecessors in alchymy. His fame reached the ears
of the king, Charles VI., who sent M. de Cramoisi, the Master of Requests,
to find out whether Nicholas had indeed discovered the philosopher's
stone. But M. de Cramoisi took nothing by his visit; all his attempts to
sound the alchymist were unavailing, and he returned to his royal master
no wiser than he came. It was in this year, 1414, that he lost his
faithful Petronella. He did not long survive her, but died in the
following year, and was buried with great pomp by the grateful priests of
St. Jacques de la Boucherie.
The great wealth of Nicholas Flamel is undoubted, as the records of
several churches and hospitals in France can testify. That he practised
alchymy is equally certain, as he left behind several works upon the
subject. Those who knew him well, and who were incredulous about the
philosopher's stone, give a satisfactory solution of the secret of his
wealth. They say that he was always a miser and a usurer; that his journey
to Spain was undertaken with very different motives from those pretended
by the alchymists; that, in fact, he went to collect debts due from Jews
in that country to their brethren in Paris, and that he charged a
commission of fully cent per cent in consideration of the difficulty of
collecting and the dangers of the road; that when he possessed thousands,
he lived upon almost nothing; and was the general money-lender, at
enormous profits, to all the dissipated young men at the French court.