Magic, Alchemy, and Roger Bacon by Lewis Spence 1920

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Roger Bacon was born near Ilchester in Somerset, in 1214. In his boyhood he displayed remarkable precocity, and in due time, having entered the order of St. Francis, he studied mathematics and medicine in Oxford and Paris. Returning to England, he devoted attention to philosophy and also wrote Latin, Greek, and Hebrew Grammars. He was a pioneer of astronomy and was acquainted with the properties of lenses, so that he may have foreshadowed the telescope. In the region of the mechanical sciences, his prophecies are noteworthy since he not only speaks of boats which may be propelled without oars, but of cars which may move without horses, and even of machines to fly in the air. To him we are indebted for important discoveries in the science of pure chemistry. His name is for ever associated with the making of gunpowder, and if the honour cannot be wholly afforded him, his experiments with nitre were at least a far step towards the discovery. His study of alchemical subjects led him, as was natural, to a belief in the philosopher's stone by which gold might be purified to a degree impossible by any other means, and also to a belief in the elixir of life whereby on similar principles of purification, the human body might be fortified against death itself. Not only might man become practically immortal by such means but, by knowledge of the appropriate herbs, or by acquaintance with planetary influences, he might attain the same consummation. As was natural in an ignorant age, Bacon was looked on with considerable suspicion which ripened into persecution. The brethren of his order practically cast him out, and he was compelled to retire to Paris, and to submit himself to a regime of repression. A prolific penman, he was forbidden to write, and it was not till 1266 that Guy de Foulques, the papal legate in England—subsequently Pope Clement IV—hearing of Bacon's fame, invited him to break his enforced silence. Bacon hailed the opportunity and in spite of hardship and poverty, finished his Opus Majus, Opus Minus and Opus Tertium. These works seem to have found favour with Clement, for the writer was allowed to return to Oxford, there to continue his scientific studies and the composition of scientific works. He essayed a compendium of philosophy of which a part remains, but its subject-matter was displeasing to the ruling powers and Bacon's misfortunes began afresh. His books were burned and again he was thrown into prison, where he remained for fourteen years, and during that period it is probable that he continued to write. About 1292 he was again at liberty, and within the next few years—probably in 1294—he died. Bacon's works were numerous and, while many still remain in manuscript, about a dozen have been printed at various times. Many are obscure treatises on alchemy and deserve little attention, but the works he wrote by invitation of Clement are the most important. The Opus Majus is divided into six parts treating of the causes of error, the relation between philosophy and theology, the utility of grammar, mathematics, perspective and experimental science. The Opus Minus, of which only part has been preserved, was intended to be a summary of the former work. The Opus Tertium though written after the other two, is an introduction to them, and also in part supplementary to them. These works, large though they be, seem to have been only the forerunners of a vast work treating of the principles of all the sciences, which, however, was probably little more than begun. Much of Bacon's work and many of his beliefs must, of course, be greatly discounted, but judging the man in relation to his time, the place he takes is a high one. His devotion to the experimental sciences was the point wherein he differed from most from his contemporaries, and to this devotion is to be accounted the fame which he then possessed and still possess.

But no sketch of Bacon's life would be complete without some account of the legendary material which has gathered around his name, and by virtue of which he holds rank as a great magician in the popular imagination. When, in the sixteenth century, the study of magic was pursued with increased zeal, the name of Friar Bacon became more popular, and not only were the traditions worked up into a popular book, entitled The History of Friar Bacon, but one of the dramatists of the age, Robert Green, founded upon them a play, which was often acted, and of which there are several editions. The greater part of the history of Friar Bacon, as far as it related to that celebrated personage, is evidently the invention of the writer, who appears to have lived in the time of Queen Elizabeth; he adopted some of the older traditions, and filled up his narrative with fables taken from the common story books of the age. We are here first made acquainted with two other legendary conjurers. Friars Bungay and Vandermast; and the recital is enlivened with the pranks of Bacon's servant Miles.

According to this legendary history, Roger Bacon was the son of a wealthy farmer in the West of England, who had placed his son with the parish priest to gain a little scholarship. The boy soon showed an extraordinary ability for learning, which was encouraged by the priest, but which was extremely disagreeable to the father, who intended him for no other profession but that of the plough. Young Bacon fled from home, and took shelter in a monastery, where he followed his studies to his heart's content, and was eventually sent to complete them at Oxford. There he made himself a proficient in the occult sciences, and attained to the highest proficiency in magic. At length he had an opportunity of exhibiting his skill before the court, and the account of his exploits on this occasion may be given as a sample of the style of this quaint old history.

"The king being in Oxfordshire at a nobleman's house, was very desirous to see this famous friar, for he had heard many times of his wondrous things that he had done by his art, therefore he sent one for him to desire him to come to the court. Friar Bacon kindly thanked the king by the messenger, and said that he was at the king's service and would suddenly attend him, 'but sir,' saith he to the gentleman, 'I pray you make haste or else I shall be two hours before you at the court.' 'For all your learning', answered the gentleman, 'I can hardly believe this, for scholars, old men, and travellers, may lie by authority.' 'To strengthen your belief' said Friar Bacon, 'I could presently show you the last wench that you kissed withal, but I will not at this time.' 'One is as true as the other,' said the gentleman, 'and I would laugh to see either.' 'You shall see them both within these four hours,' quoth the friar, 'and therefore make what haste you can.' 'I will prevent that by my speed,' said the gentleman, and with that he rid his way; but he rode out of his way, as it should seem, for he had but five miles to ride, and yet was he better than three hours a-riding them, so that Friar Bacon by his art was with the king before he came.

"The king kindly welcomed him, and said that he long time had desired to see him, for he had as yet not heard of his like. Friar Bacon answered him, that fame had belied him, and given him that report that his poor studies had never deserved, for he believed that art had many sons more excellent than himself was. The king commended him for his modesty, and told him that nothing could become a wise man less than boasting: but yet withal he requested him now to be no niggard of his knowledge, but to show his queen and him some of his skill 'I were worthy of neither art or knowledge,' quoth Friar Bacon, 'should I deny your majesty this small request; I pray seat yourselves, and you shall see presently what my poor skill can perform.' The king, queen, and nobles sat them all down. They having done so, the friar waved his wand, and presently was heard such excellent music, that they were all amazed, for they all said they had never heard the like. 'This is,' said the friar, 'to delight the sense of hearing,—I will delight all your other senses ere you depart hence.' So waving his wand again, there was louder music heard, and presently five dancers entered, the first like a court laundress, the second like a footman, the third like a usurer, the fourth like a prodigal, the fifth like a fool. These did divers excellent changes, so that they gave content to all the beholders, and having done their dance they all vanished away in their order as they came in. Thus feasted two of their senses. Then waved he his wand again, and there was another kind of music heard, and whilst it was playing, there was suddenly before them a table, richly covered with all sorts of delicacies. Then desired he the king and queen to taste of some certain rare fruits that were on the table, which they and the nobles there present did, and were very highly pleased with the taste; they being satisfied, all vanished away on the sudden. Then waved he his wand again, and suddenly there was such a smell, as if all the rich perfumes in the whole world had been then prepared in the best manner that art could set them out. Whilst he feasted thus their smelling, he waved his wand again, and there came divers nations in sundry habits, as Russians, Polanders, Indians, Armenians, all bringing sundry kinds of furs, such as their countries yielded, all which they presented to the king and queen. These furs were so soft to the touch that they highly pleased all those that handled them. Then, after some odd fantastic dances, after their country manner, they vanished away. Then asked Friar Bacon the king's majesty if that he desired any more of his skill. The king answered that he was fully satisfied for that time, and that he only now thought of something that he might bestow on him, that might partly satisfy the kindness he had received. Friar Bacon said that he desired nothing so much as his majesty's love, and if that he might be assured of that, he would think himself happy in it. 'For that,' said the king. 'be thou ever sure, in token of which receive this jewel,' and withal gave him a costly jewel from his neck. The friar did with great reverence thank his majesty, and said, 'As your majesty's vassal you shall ever find me ready to do you service; your time of need shall find it both beneficial and delightful. But amongst all these gentlemen I see not the man that your grace did send for me by; sure he hath lost his way, or else met with some sport that detain? him so long; I promised to be here before him, and all this noble assembly can witness I am as good as my word—I hear him coming. With that entered the gentleman, all bedirted, for he had rid through ditches, quagmires, plashes, and waters, that he was in a most pitiful case. He, seeing the friar there, looked full angrily, and bid a plague on all his devils for they had led him out of his way, and almost drowned him. 'Be not angry, sir,' said Friar Bacon, 'here is an old friend of yours that hath more cause, for she hath tarried these three hours for you,'—with that he pulled up the hangings, and behind him stood a kitchen-maid with a bastingladle in her hand—'now am I as good as my word with you, for I promised to help you to your sweetheart,— how do you like this?' 'So ill,' answered the gentleman, 'that I will be avenged of you.' 'Threaten not,' said Friar Bacon, 'lest I do you more shame, and do you take heed how you give scholars the lie again; but because I know not how well you are stored with money at this time, I will bear your wench's charges home.' With that she vanished away."

This may be taken as a sort of exemplification of the class of exhibitions which were probably the result of a superior knowledge of natural science, and which were exaggerated by popular imagination. They had been made, to a certain degree, familiar by the performances of the skilful jugglers who came from the east, and who were scattered throughout Europe; and we read not unfrequently of such magical feats in old writers. When the Emperor Charles IV. was married in the middle of the fourteenth century to the Bavarian Princess Sophia in the city of Prague, the father of the princess brought a waggon-load of magicians to assist in the festivities. Two of the chief proficients in the art, Zytho the great Bohemian sorcerer, and Gouin the Bavarian, were pitted against each other, and we are told that after a desperate trial of skill, Zytho, opening his jaws from ear to ear, ate up his rival without stopping till he came to his shoes, which he spit out, because, as he said, they had not been cleaned. After having performed this strange feat, he restored the unhappy sorcerer to life again. The idea of contests like this seems to have been taken from the scriptural narrative of the contention of the Egyptian magicians against Moses.

The greater number of Bacon's exploits are mere adaptations of mediaeval stories, but they show, nevertheless, what was the popular notion of the magician's character. Such is the story of the gentleman who, reduced to poverty and involved in debt, sold himself to the evil one, on condition that he was to deliver himself up as soon as his debts were paid. As may be imagined without much difficulty, he was not in haste to satisfy his creditors, but at length the time came when he could put them off no longer, and then, in his despair, he would have committed violence on himself had not his hand been arrested by Bacon. The latter, when he had heard the gentleman's story, directed him to repair to the place appointed for his meeting with the evil one, to deny the devil's claim, and to refer for judgment to the first person who should pass "In the morning, after that he had blessed himself, he went to the wood, where he found the devil ready for him. So soon as he came near, the devil said: 'Now, deceiver, are you come? Now shall thou see that I can and will prove that thou hast paid all thy debts, and therefore thy soul belongest to me.' 'Thou art a deceiver,' said the gentleman, 'and gavest me money to cheat me of my soul, for else why wilt thou be thine own judge?—let me have some others to judge between us.' 'Content,' said the devil, 'take whom thou wilt.' 'Then I will have,' said the gentleman, 'the next man that cometh this way.' Hereto the devil agreed. No sooner were these words ended, but Friar Bacon came by, to whom this gentleman spoke, and requested that he would be judge in a weighty matter between them two. The friar said he was content, so both parties were agreed; the devil told Friar Bacon how the case stood between them in this manner. 'Know, friar, that I seeing this prodigal like to starve for want of food, lent him money, not only to buy him victuals, but also to redeem his lands and pay his debts, conditionally that so soon as his debts were paid, that he should give himself freely to me; to this, here is his hand'—showing him the bond. 'Now, my time is expired, for all his debts are paid, which he cannot deny.' 'This case is plain, if it be so that his debts are paid.' 'His silence confirms it,' said the devil, 'therefore give him a just sentence.' 'I will,' said Friar Bacon, 'but first tell me,'—speaking to the gentleman—'didst thou never yet give the devil any of his money back, nor requite him in any ways?' 'Never had he anything of me as yet,' answered the gentleman. 'Then never let him have anything of thee, and thou art free. Deceiver of mankind,' said he, speaking to the devil, 'it was thy bargain never to meddle with him so long as he was indebted to any; now how canst thou demand of him anything when he is indebted for all that he hath to thee? When he payeth thee thy money, then take him as thy due; till then thou hast nothing to do with him, and so I charge thee to be gone.' At this the devil vanished with great horror, but Friar Bacon comforted the gentleman, and sent him home with a quiet conscience, bidding him never to pay the devil's money back, as he valued his own safety."

Bacon now met with a companion, Friar Bungay, whose tastes and pursuits were congenial to his own, and with his assistance he undertook the exploit for which he was most famous. He had a fancy that he would defend England against its enemies, by walling it with brass, preparatory to which they made a head of that metal. Their intent was to make the head speak, for which purpose they raised a spirit in a wood, by whose directions they made a fumigation, to which the head was to be exposed during a month, and to be carefully watched, because if the two friars did not hear it before it had ceased speaking, their labour would be lost. Accordingly, the care of watching over the head while they slept was entrusted to Bacon's man Miles. The period of utterance unfortunately came while Miles was watching. The head suddenly uttered the two words, "Time is." Miles thought it was unnecessary to disturb his master for such a brief speech, and sat still. In half an hour, the head again broke silence with the words, "Time was." Still Miles waited until, in another half hour, the head said, "Time is past," and fell to the ground with a terrible noise. Thus, through the negligence of Miles, the labour of the two friars was thrown away.

The king soon required Friar Bacon's services, and the latter enabled him, by his perspective and burning-glasses, to take a town which he was besieging. In consequence of this success, the kings of England and France made peace, and a grand court was held, at which the German conjurer, Vandermast, was brought to try his skill against Bacon. Their performances were something in the style of Bacon's former exhibition before the king and queen. Vandermast, in revenge, sent a soldier to kill Bacon, but in vain. Next follow a series of adventures which consist of a few mediaeval stories very clumsily put together among which are that known as the Friar and the Boy, that which appeared in Scottish verse, under the title of The Friars of Berwich, a tale taken from the Gesta Romanorum, and some others. A contention in magic between Vandermast and Bungay, ended in the deaths of both. The servant Miles next turned conjurer, having got hold of one of Bacon's books, and escaped with a dreadful fright, and a broken leg. Everything now seemed to go wrong. Friar Bacon "had a glass which was of that excellent nature that any man might behold anything that he desired to see within the compass of fifty miles round about him." In this glass he used to show people what their relations and friends were doing, or where they were. One day two young gentlemen of high birth came to look into the glass, and they beheld their fathers desperately fighting together, upon which they drew their swords and slew each other. Bacon was so shocked that he broke his glass, and hearing about the same time of the deaths of Vandermast and Bungay, he became melancholy, and at length he burnt his books of magic, distributed his wealth among poor scholars and others, and became an anchorite. Thus ended the life of Friar Bacon, according to "the famous history," which probably owed most of its incidents to the imagination of the writer.

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