Medieval European Alchemy

The Paris house in the rue de Montmorency still stands. A plaque on the wall marks it as the former home of Nicolas Flamel, “écrivain et bourgeois de Paris,” who lived there with his wife Pernelle from 1407 until his death in 1418. The plaque is plain. It does not mention the philosopher’s stone. It does not mention the legend. The plaque gives the date of the house, the name of the owner, and that is all.

Flamel was a real person — a scrivener, a property owner, a man of some wealth who used his money to fund charitable works in Paris. He left a short alchemical treatise, the Le Livre des Figures Hiéroglyphiques, and a few other documents. The historical record on the rest is silent. The legend, which began to circulate within a few decades of his death and grew steadily for the next three centuries, is one of the most successful pieces of alchemical fiction ever written. By the seventeenth century, Flamel was the most famous lay alchemist of the Latin Middle Ages, and the visual tradition of the alchemist in his laboratory was inextricably linked to the Flamel story.

The Flamel legend is a good place to start a discussion of medieval European alchemy, because the legend itself is one of the products of the medieval alchemical culture, and the culture is one of the most interesting chapters in the history of the Western intellectual tradition. The Latin alchemical tradition emerged in the eleventh and twelfth centuries as Arabic texts were translated into Latin, and it developed through the monastic and university workshops of the high Middle Ages into the complex and varied alchemical culture of the late Middle Ages. By the time of Flamel and George Ripley, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the Latin alchemical tradition had become a sophisticated synthesis of Greek, Arabic, Jewish, and Christian elements, and it was ready to be transformed by the Renaissance.

The setting: Latin Europe in the eleventh and twelfth centuries

The Latin alchemical tradition emerged in the context of a broader intellectual revival, and the revival is the reason the tradition has a sophistication that the older histories of alchemy sometimes missed. The eleventh and twelfth centuries saw the foundation of the first European universities (Bologna, Paris, Oxford, soon to be joined by Padua, Montpellier, Toulouse, and others), the rise of new monastic orders (the Cistercians, the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Carthusians), the growth of urban centres, and the great translation movements that brought the Arabic and Greek scientific and philosophical inheritance to the West.

The institutional settings in which the Latin alchemical tradition developed were varied. Monastic scriptoria preserved and copied the inherited texts. Cathedral schools and the new universities introduced the theoretical framework of the four elements and the tria prima into the broader scholastic curriculum. Royal courts patronised alchemists who promised to replenish treasuries by transmuting base metal into gold. The workshops of apothecaries, metallurgists, and dyers were the practical settings in which much of the alchemical work was carried out.

The translation movements

The Arabic alchemical tradition was transmitted to the Latin West in two main waves of translation, both centred on the Iberian Peninsula, and the transmission is the foundation of the Latin alchemical tradition.

The first wave, in the late eleventh and twelfth centuries, was centred on the translation schools of Toledo, Barcelona, and Tarazona. The most important figure of the early translation movement is Constantine the African (c. 1017–1087), a North African who worked at the monastery of Monte Cassino and translated Arabic medical and pharmaceutical texts into Latin. Constantine’s translations brought a substantial body of Arabic pharmaceutical knowledge to the Latin West, and the pharmaceutical knowledge is the foundation of the medieval Latin medical tradition.

The most important of the alchemical translators was Hugo of Santalla (c. 1100–1160), an Augustinian canon working in Tarazona, who translated the Emerald Tablet into Latin together with a range of Arabic astrological, divinatory, and alchemical material (Newman, The “Emerald Tablet” and the Origin of the “Summa perfectionis”, 2019; Burnett, “Arabic into Latin,” 1999). Gerard of Cremona (1114–1187), an Italian who worked in Toledo, translated a large portion of the Arabic scientific and philosophical corpus into Latin. The traditional attribution of a large alchemical corpus to Gerard is now disputed by Newman (2019); his established contributions are to astronomy, geometry, and medicine, and the alchemical material reached the Latin West through a more diffuse network of translators. Jabirian and Razian texts were circulating in Latin by the late twelfth century, sometimes under the rubric of “Geber.”

The second wave, in the thirteenth century, was centred on the Sicilian court of Frederick II and the Italian universities. The translations of this period were often more systematic than the earlier ones. The most important of the second-wave translators is Michael Scot (c. 1175–c. 1235), who worked at the court of Frederick II and translated a large body of Arabic and Greek scientific and philosophical texts. The Sicilian court was a remarkable cultural institution, and Frederick’s patronage of translation, science, and poetry is one of the great stories of the thirteenth century.

The scholastic synthesis

By the thirteenth century, the alchemical tradition had been largely absorbed into the scholastic philosophical framework, and the absorption is the key to understanding the Latin tradition. The four elements of Aristotle, refined by the Arab commentators (Averroes, Avicenna, al-Kindi), were taught in the universities as the foundation of natural philosophy. The alchemists’ claim that artificial gold was equivalent to natural gold was debated in the universities and largely rejected, but the underlying theory of metallic composition was widely accepted, and the theory gave the alchemists a respectable theoretical home.

The most important of the scholastic alchemists is Albertus Magnus (c. 1200–1280), the Dominican friar, bishop of Regensburg, and universal scholar. Albert’s De Mineralibus contains a thorough treatment of metals, minerals, and the alchemical theory of metallic composition, and it is the only securely attributed alchemical work from his corpus. The Tractatus de Alchemia and the Semita Recta that circulated under his name are now generally regarded as pseudonymous, by later Dominican or Franciscan followers (Principe, 2013, pp. 117–121). Albert’s alchemy is integrated into a broader Aristotelian framework, and he argues that the transmutation of base metals into gold is in principle possible, though in practice extraordinarily difficult. The argument is more interesting than it first appears. Albert is taking the alchemical project seriously as a theoretical possibility, and the seriousness is the reason the alchemists of the next century were able to claim Albert as an authority.

The second great scholastic alchemist is Roger Bacon (c. 1214–1292), the English Franciscan friar and polymath. Bacon’s alchemical works include commentaries on the Emerald Tablet, treatises on the composition of metals, and practical guides to laboratory procedure. Bacon argued that the philosopher’s stone could be prepared, and that the stone would have enormous practical benefits for medicine, agriculture, and the transmutation of base metals. The most important of the alchemical works attributed to Bacon — the Speculum secretorum and the De arte chymica — are now generally regarded as pseudonymous, by later Franciscan followers; the Baconian authorship is no longer accepted, but the works’ place in the late medieval Baconian tradition is secure. Bacon himself was more cautious in his authentic writings and never claimed to have made the stone. The caution is significant. It shows that the most sophisticated natural philosophers of the period were not credulous about the transmutational project, even when they took it seriously as a theoretical possibility.

Bacon is also famous for his interest in optics, mathematics, and the possibility of mechanical flight, and his alchemical writings are an integral part of his broader programme of empirical natural philosophy. The Baconian programme — careful observation, controlled experiment, and the systematic testing of inherited theories — was deeply indebted to the Arabic alchemical tradition, and the programme helped to shape the Latin alchemical culture of the late Middle Ages.

The monastic alchemists

The monastic alchemists of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries formed a distinctive sub-tradition within the Latin alchemical world, and the sub-tradition is the key to understanding the religious dimensions of the medieval Latin alchemical tradition. The most important of the monastic alchemists were members of the Dominican and Franciscan orders, which combined intellectual rigour with a strong religious commitment.

The Franciscan tradition produced Roger Bacon, and after Bacon, a long line of lesser-known friar-alchemists. The most important of the later Franciscans is John of Rupescissa (c. 1310 – c. 1365), a French Franciscan who combined alchemical theory with prophetic and apocalyptic writing. John argued that the alchemists’ discovery of the elixir of life was a sign of the approaching end of the age, and he is one of the most interesting examples of the late medieval integration of alchemy and Christian eschatology. John spent long years in prison for his prophetic writings.

The legend of Nicolas Flamel

Nicolas Flamel (c. 1330–1418), a Parisian scrivener and property owner, is the most famous lay alchemist of the late Middle Ages. Flamel was a real person, the author of a short alchemical treatise (Le Livre des Figures Hiéroglyphiques) and a wealthy man who used his wealth to fund charitable works in Paris. But the legend that grew up after his death is far more interesting than the historical figure.

According to the legend, Flamel acquired a mysterious book, the Book of Abraham the Jew, that contained the secret of the philosopher’s stone. After many years of study, and a long pilgrimage to Spain where he consulted with Jewish and Muslim scholars, Flamel finally deciphered the book and succeeded in making the stone in 1382. He and his wife Pernelle then used the stone to fund their charitable works and to achieve personal immortality.

The legend was enormously influential in later alchemical literature. Flamel became a stock character in alchemical fiction, and the visual tradition of alchemy in art includes many treatments of his story. The most interesting question about the Flamel legend is what purpose it served. The legend was not just entertainment. It was a piece of alchemical mythography, a story that the alchemical community told about itself, and the story served to anchor the lay practice of alchemy in a real historical figure, a real house in Paris, a real grave in the church of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie.

The alchemical poets

The fifteenth century saw the rise of a distinctive alchemical poetry, in which the transmutational programme was presented in allegorical and devotional verse. The most important of the alchemical poets is George Ripley (c. 1415–1490), the English Augustinian canon whose Compound of Alchemy is a long allegorical poem that synthesises the alchemical tradition. The Compound was the most copied English alchemical text of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and was printed in numerous editions.

Ripley’s poem draws on the Arabic and Latin medieval traditions, the Hermetic inheritance, and the Christian devotional tradition, and it presents the magnum opus as a Christian spiritual exercise.

Other important alchemical works of the period include the printed Latin Rosarium Philosophorum of 1550, a prose illustrated treatise attributed on the title page to an author writing under the name “Bacon” but probably by a mid-sixteenth-century compiler; the German verse Rosarium of 1550, a separate verse treatment of the same material; and the Aurora Consurgens, a Latin poem attributed to Thomas Aquinas that presents the alchemical work in explicitly Christian terms. The Aurora is one of the most important documents of the medieval Christian alchemical tradition, and Copenhaver’s 2016 edition has done much to clarify its date and provenance.

The alchemists and the church

The relationship between alchemy and the medieval church was complex. On the one hand, the alchemists’ claim to be able to produce gold threatened the economic order that the church endorsed, and several church councils in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries prohibited the practice of alchemy by clerics. On the other hand, the alchemical tradition was deeply integrated with the Christian devotional tradition, and the imagery of the alchemical work was easily read as a Christian allegory.

The most important example of the Christian alchemical tradition is the Aurora Consurgens, which presents the alchemical work as a Christian sacramental exercise. The alchemists’ relationship with the institutional church was often tense. John of Rupescissa was imprisoned. Roger Bacon was imprisoned. Paracelsus was driven from Basel. But the alchemical tradition continued to find patronage in the church, and many of the most important alchemical texts of the period were written by clerics or were preserved in monastic libraries.

The tension is one of the things that makes the medieval alchemical tradition worth studying. The alchemists were working within the institutional church, against the institutional church, and in spite of the institutional church. The historian who wants to understand the medieval alchemical tradition has to read it in all three modes at once.

The late medieval synthesis

By the late fifteenth century, the Latin alchemical tradition had become a sophisticated synthesis of Greek, Arabic, Jewish, and Christian elements. The theoretical framework of the four elements and the tria prima had been integrated with the Aristotelian philosophy of the schools. The practical techniques of the laboratory had been refined and standardised. The religious and philosophical framework had been developed to a high pitch in the devotional tradition of the alchemical poets. The Latin alchemical tradition was ready for the transformations of the next two centuries, and the transformations are treated in the clusters on Paracelsus and Newton and alchemy. Paracelsus reinvented the medical side. The Rosicrucians reinvented the religious side. The Scientific Revolution reinvented the natural-philosophical side. None of the reinventions would have been possible without the late medieval synthesis.

FAQ

Q: Did Albertus Magnus write the Tractatus de Alchemia? A: No. The Tractatus de Alchemia and the Semita Recta circulated under Albert’s name in the late thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, but they are now generally regarded as pseudonymous, by later Dominican or Franciscan followers. The only securely attributed alchemical work from the Albertan corpus is De Mineralibus (Principe, 2013).

Q: Did Roger Bacon write the alchemical works attributed to him? A: The most important alchemical works attributed to Bacon — the Speculum secretorum and the De arte chymica — are now regarded as pseudonymous, by later Franciscan followers. The Baconian authorship is no longer accepted, but the works are valuable witnesses to the late medieval Baconian tradition.

Q: What is the Rosarium Philosophorum? A: A late medieval alchemical treatise, printed in Latin in 1550 and attributed on the title page to an author writing under the name “Bacon.” It is a prose illustrated work of the mid-sixteenth century, not a medieval verse treatise. The German verse Rosarium of 1550 is a separate, later work. The standard scholarly view (Rampling) treats both as the work of the mid-sixteenth-century German and Latin Rosarium tradition.

Q: Did Gerard of Cremona translate the alchemical corpus? A: The traditional attribution of a large alchemical corpus to Gerard is now in dispute. Newman’s 2019 study treats his alchemical contributions as less secure than his established work in astronomy, geometry, and medicine. The Arabic alchemical material reached the Latin West through a more diffuse network of translators, of whom Hugo of Santalla is the most important.