by Sax Rohmer
Leaving the man in the black skull-cap alone in his cell and occupied in the compilation of the Stone of the Philosophers, which was begun and completed in captivity, I shall ask you to follow Dr. Dee, now for ever separated from the evil companion whom, despite all, he had loved.
It is believed that at this time the doctor returned to England. He set out from Bohemia with a magnificent retinue, and travelled with three coaches for himself and family and three wagons to carry his luggage. Each coach was drawn by four horses, and the whole party was escorted by a guard of twenty-four soldiers. One wonders if he had resumed friendly relations with his wife.
Some time before, when Kelly had first threatened to leave him, Dee had decided, should this desertion come about, to return to England, and had accordingly written to Elizabeth requesting that he might be granted a favourable reception on his return home. At the same time he sent to the Queen, as it is alleged, a round piece of silver, which he claimed to have transmuted from a piece of a brass warming-pan. Later, he also sent her the warming-pan, so that she might see for herself that the piece of silver fitted exactly into the hole which was cut in the brass. This was not without its effect, and he received the desired invitation to return to England.
On his arrival in his native country Elizabeth immediately granted him an audience, receiving him very kindly, promising and giving orders that he must suffer no interference in his experiments in alchemical research.
Very soon he had squandered what was left of the money with which he was enabled so sumptuously to travel from Bohemia; but Elizabeth could not believe that he was in want. She very reasonably argued that a man who claimed to be able to manufacture gold from baser metal could never fall into straitened circumstances, and the only marks of favour bestowed upon him were occasional audiences and her protection.
Poor Dee struggled manfully with his crucibles and retorts, and seriously affected his health by his existence amongst the poisonous fumes ever present in his laboratory. Now and again he turned his attention to his magic crystal, but could find none to replace the invaluable Kelly.
The pathetic impotency of Dee, now that he was once again and finally thrown upon his own resources, in his efforts to obtain the stone of the philosophers, or elixir, brought him to his knees. His repeated attempts in this direction, expensive and fruitless as they were, soon saw him on the verge of starvation. In great distress he applied to the Queen for relief. In stating his deplorable case, he wrote that, having left his library and the valuable contents of his museum behind him when he travelled to the Continent in the company of Count Laski and Kelly, the mob, aroused into fury by the exaggerated untruths which had been circulated regarding him, had broken into his house at Mortlake and destroyed everything they could lay their hands upon.
He denied the charges levelled against him of necromancy and wizardry, and, informed Her Majesty that his library, which consisted of four thousand volumes — rare and ancient — together with his philosophical instruments and other paraphernalia, having been wantonly and ruthlessly destroyed, he considered that he should be compensated for his loss; for research was impossible in the circumstances, and his means of livelihood was taken from him. He added that, as he had by the Queen’s command returned to England, she should defray the expenses incurred by the journey.
Elizabeth, still kindly disposed towards the unfortunate doctor, at intervals sent him small sums of money. At last, another commission having sat to consider his claims, he received an appointment as Chancellor of St. Paul’s Cathedral, transferring later to the college of Manchester, where he was appointed Warden. His troubles, however, were by no means at an end, for at Manchester he was subjected to continued persecution by the Fellows of the college, and suffered other indignities, which he endured with the patience characteristic of his whole career. His appointment to Manchester took place in 1595; and as this was the year which saw the dramatic and tragic end of Kelly, we must now return to the latter and see what befell this heir of St. Dunstan.
Whilst Kelly remained in durance, Dee had not been idle in making representations on behalf of his erstwhile companion. The doctor had forgiven the man who had ruined his whole career, and his generous nature impelled him to beseech Elizabeth to secure his release by the Emperor Rudolf and propose his return to England under safe conduct.
The Queen acceded to the requests made by Dee, and wrote to the Emperor, claiming Kelly as her subject. The Bohemian monarch, however, explained that, his prisoner being guilty of murder, he could not release him. By this time Kelly had completely given up all further experiments to produce the powders, although it would appear that he was afforded ample opportunity for continuing his researches within the prison walls. Instead, he set himself to compile a treatise on the stone of the philosophers, and in this way employed the remaining months of his miserable existence. His book he dedicated to his “most gracious master, Rudolfus II,” extracts from which, together with excerpts from two of his letters to the Emperor upon the subject of transmuting metals, will be found upon a subsequent page.
His volatile temperament at last revolted against his enforced retirement from the world, and he resolved upon a desperate attempt to escape. It is stated on good authority that one stormy night, in February 1595, he made a rope of his bedclothes and proceeded to let himself down from the window of his dungeon, which was situated at the top of a very high tower. His weight, however, for he was a corpulent man, proved too great a strain upon the improvised rope, which broke, and, falling from a considerable height, he sustained such severe injuries, breaking two ribs and both legs, that he died a few days afterwards, at the age of forty-two.
We have it on the authority of another, John Weever, that Queen Elizabeth sent in secret Captain Peter Gwinne, with some others, to persuade Kelly to return to his native country. It is said that he then decided to escape, but from his own house in Prague — which was virtually his prison, since it was under strict guard; and in descending from a wall, the rope he had made gave way and he was precipitated to the ground.
Whereas the reports differ as to the place from which he tried to escape, they are agreed upon the actual manner in which he met his death.
What must have been the thoughts of Dee when the news reached him of the end of the man with whom he had shared many dangers and privations; who had wronged him, yet whom he had loved, and whose behest, in his enthusiasm, he had blindly obeyed? His fanatic soul refused to admit that the great secret, to the solution of which he had devoted his whole life, was beyond the grasp of man. But now that Kelly was no more he felt himself abandoned in the wilderness of unbelief, the desert of persecution; and grieved, not that his learning had been wasted in useless research, but that his intellect, not being allowed to expand further, was starved.
Kelly’s death, and the continued persecution to which he was subjected at Manchester, had an enormous effect upon the mind of Dee. Old age, too, began to tell its inevitable tale, and about the year 1603, his health having broken down and his mind become enfeebled, the philosopher was compelled to resign his chair at the college of Manchester.
He retired to Mortlake, but soon again found himself almost penniless, and was driven to eke out a miserable existence by fortune-telling. Frequently he was forced to sell some of his books in order that he might procure a meal, and more than one appeal on his behalf was made by influential persons to King James I.
This monarch, unlike Elizabeth, turned a deaf ear to the requests that John Dee’s learning should be rewarded with a pension, so that the philosopher might spend the evening of his days in comfort and be relieved of the fear of want. James refused, and there was nothing left to John Dee but patiently to await his end. He died in 1608, and was laid to rest near his riverside home.
VI. THE BOOK OF ST. DUNSTAN AND SOME KELLY FRAGMENTS
In the diaries of Dr. Dee we find several references to the Book of St. Dunstan in connection with the “powder found at the digging.” It is reasonable to s
uppose that the work referred to was the Glastonbury manuscript, and the powder that which lay in the ivory caskets. Arthur ‘Dee, too, the son of Dr. Dee, refers more than once to this book.
It has been inferred that the bishop whose sepulchre was violated must have been none other than St. Dunstan himself, but this inference is evidently wrong, since Dunstan, dying in 988, was buried in Canterbury. He is said to have founded Glastonbury Abbey, but this, too, is incorrect; for he was himself educated at the Abbey, of which he became abbot in later years, then to commence the great work of reformation which made Glastonbury a centre of learning famed throughout the kingdom.
As a young man he seems to have practised alchemy, and the old fascination apparently reasserted itself in later years, at Canterbury; but whether, justly, the mysterious Glastonbury manuscript may be attributed to him is very doubtful. A number of extant manuscripts have been ascribed to his pen, including some metrical treatises which might perhaps with greater justice have been credited to Edward Kelly. However, I transcribe some metrical fragments selected at random from Mr. A. E. Waite’s compendium of the writings of Edward Kelly, which (it is at least possible) may be from the Book of St. Dunstan, and append some Kelly selections from the same source:
No, no, my friends, it is not vauntinge words,
Nor mighty oaths that gaines that sacred skill;
It is obteined by grace and not by swords,
Nor by greate reading, nor by long sitting still,
Nor fond conceit, nor working all by will,
But, as I said, by grace it is obteined;
Seek grace, therefore, let folly be refrained.
It is no costly thing, I you assure,
That doth beget Magnesia in hir kind;
Yet is hir selfe by leprosis made pure.
Hir eyes be cleerer being first made blind,
And he that can earth’s fastnes first unbind
Shall quickly know that I the truth have tould
Of sweete Magnesia, wife to purest gold.
I doubte as yet you hardly understand
What man and wife doth truly signifie,
And yet I know you beare your selves in hand
That out of doubt it Sulphur is and Mercury;
And so it is, but not the common certainly;
But Mercury essentiall is trewly the trew wife
That kills hir selfe to bring hir child to life.
For first and formest she receives the man,
Her perfect love doth make her soone conceive,
Then doth she strive with all the force she can,
In spite of love, of life him to bereave,
Which being done, then will she never leave,
But labour kindly like a loving wife
Untill againe she him have brought to life.
Take then this Stone, this wife, this child, this all,
Which will be gummous, crumbling, silken, soft;
Upon a glasse or porphire beat it small,
And, as you grinde, with Mercury feed it oft,
But not so much that Mercury swim aloft,
But equal parts nipt up their seed to save;
Then each in other are buried within their grave.
Mercury crude in a crucible heated
Presently hardeneth like silver anealed,
And in the high throwne of Luna is seated.
Silver or gold as medecine hath sealed,
And thus our greate Secret I have revealed,
Which divers have seene, and myself have wrought,
And dearly I prize it, yet give it for nought.
Yet will I war ne thee, least thou chaunce to faile,
Sublyme thine earth with stinkeking water erst;
Then in a place where Phoebus onely tayle
Is seene att midday, see thou mingle best;
For nothing shineth that doth want his light,
Nor doubleth beames unless it first be bright.
(The following is from the treatise written by Kelly, whilst imprisoned in the Castle of Zerner:)
St. Dunstan of the Stone of the Philosophers.
(1) — Take of the best red transparent ore of gold as much as you can have, and drive its spirit from it through a retort; this is the Azoth and the Acetum of the Philosophers, from its proper minera, which openeth radically Sol that is prepared.
(2) — Take the minera of Venus or Saturn, and drive their spirits in a retort; each of these dissolveth gold radically, after its purification.
(3) — Take pulverized ore of Saturn, or vulgar Saturn calcined; extract its salt with Acetum or its antinæ (? anima); purify it in the best manner, that it may be transparent as crystal, and sweet as honey, and be fluid in heat like wax, and brittle when cold. This is the tree which is cut off, of unwholesome fruits, on which must be inoculated the twigs of Sol.
(4) — Take of that earth which lieth waste in the field, found everywhere in Moorish grounds, into which the astrals ejaculate their operations, being adorned with all manner of colours, appearing like a rainbow; extract from it its purest and subtilest. This is the universal menstruum for all; and is all in all.
(5) — Take of the ore of Sol and Mercury a like quantity; grind each very well; pour on it the spirit of Mercury, that it stand over three fingers deep. Dissolve and digest it in a gentle warmth.
(6) — Take of the best vitriol, or of the vitriol of Venus; drive their spirits in a retort, white and red. With this red spirit, being rectified and sweetened, you may ferment and imbibe the subtle gold calx, and with the white spirit you may dissolve it after it hath been purified.
(9) — Take of the rank poisonous matter or stone, called kerg swaden, exuviae, or husk of the metals; drive its spirit very circumspectly; receive it so that it may turn unto water; it reduceth all metals to a potableness.
(10) — Take of the air or heavenly dew, being well purified, ten parts, and of subtle gold calx one part; set it in digestion, dissolve and coagulate it.
(12) — Take the best ore of gold; pulverize it very well; seal it with Hermes his seal; set it so long into the vaporous fire till you see it spring up into a white and red rose.
(13) — This last experiment he calleth the Light. Take, in the name of the Lord, of Hungarish gold, which hath been cast thrice through antimony and hath been laminated most thinly, as much of it as you will, and make with quick Mercury an amalgam; then calcine it most subtily, with flowers of sulphur and spirit of wine burnt, so often till there remaineth a subtle gold calx of a purple colour. Take one part of it and two parts of the above mentioned red matter; grind it very well together for an hour on a warmed marble; then cement and calcine well by degrees for three hours in a circle fire. This work must be iterated three times; then pour on it of the best rectified spirit, that it stand over it three fingers deep; set it in a gentle and warm digestion, for six days to be extracted; then the spirit of wine will be tinged as deep as blood; cant off that tincture, and pour on another as long as it will tinge it; put all these tinged spirits of wine into a vial so that the fourth part only be filled, and seal it hermetically; set it on the vaporous fire of the first degree; let it be of that heat as hot as the sun shineth in July; let it stand thus for forty days — then you shall obtain your wish.
The author recommendeth this last experiment very highly, affirming upon his experimental practice that this Aurum Potabile is the highest medicine next unto the universal, and, being taken in appropriated vehicles, cureth all diseases without causing any pains at all.
Item. — With this Aurum Potabile is Antimony prepared, so that it purgeth only downward, and carrieth forth all ill humours without molestation, and is called the purging gold.
TO THE MOST POTENT LORD OF THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE
RUDOLFUS II
KING OF HUNGARY AND BOHEMIA, ETC.
HIS MOST GRACIOUS MASTER,
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY EDWARD KELLY
(From a letter of Edward Kelly, dated June 20, 1587.)
“As you a
re willing to take my advice, I will partially reveal to you the Arcanum, so that the field may not disappoint the hopes of the husbandmen. Open your ears. Our gold and silver, Sun and Moon, active and passive principles, are not those which you can hold in your hand, but a certain silver and golden Hermaphroditic water; if you extract it from any perfect or imperfect metallic body, you have the Water of Life, the Asafœtida, and Green Lion, in which are all colours, ending in two — white and red. The earth does not so much matter, only let it be fixed, for the Elixir must above all be fixed. If you are in earnest all your thoughts must be concentrated on the fixed earth and the indestructible metallic water; nor need you seek these in gold and silver, or in any determinate compound. It is true, however, that after the separation of this tincture from the gold, that indestructible water is fixed in its white earth; but it is foolish to do by much what you can do by little.”
(From a letter dated November 15, 1589.)
“I have given you both luminaries and the best instruction concerning these things, if you can bear it in mind. To sum it all up in a few words: ‘Mix water with water; digest with a vaporous cloud, and you will not easily make a mistake.’”
(From “The Humid Path,” by Edward Kelly.)
“The Sages have, indeed, purposely concealed their meaning under a veil of obscure words, but it is sufficiently clear from their writings that the substance of which they speak is not of a special, but a general kind, and is therefore contained in animals, vegetables, and minerals. It would, however, be unwise to take a round-about road when there is a shorter cut; and they say that whereas the substance can be found in the animal and vegetable kingdoms only with great difficulty and at the cost of enormous labour, in the bowels of the earth it lies ready to our hands. It is the matter which the Sages have agreed to call Mercury or Quicksilver. Our quicksilver, indeed, is truly a living substance, so-called not because it is extracted from cinnabar, but because it is derived from the metals themselves. If common Mercury be freed by fixation from its crude, volatile, and watery superfluities, it may with the aid of our Art, attain to the purity and virtue of the substance of which we speak. And as this Mercury is the metallic basis and first substance, it may be found in all metals whatsoever.