“Thomas Norton of Briseto,
A parfet master you may him trow.”
At the age of twenty-eight, and in the brief space of forty days, he is recorded to have mastered “the perfection of chymistry,” obtaining his knowledge from a contemporary adept, who appears to have been Ripley himself. He describes his initiator as a person of noble mind, worthy of all praise, loving justice, detesting fraud, reserved when surrounded by a talkative company, quite unassuming, and if ever the conversation turned upon the Great Art, preserving complete silence. For a long time Norton sought him in vain; the adept proved him by various trials, but when he was satisfied of his disposition, manners, and habits, as well as of his strength of mind, his love yielded to the fidelity and perseverance of his postulant, and in answer to one of his letters he addressed him as follows:—
“My trusty and well-beloved Brother,—I shall not any longer delay; the time is come; you shall receive this grace. Your honest desire and approved virtue, your love of truth, wisdom, and long perseverance, shall accomplish your sorrowful desires.
“It is necessary that, as soon as convenient, we speak together face to face, lest I should by writing betray my trust. I will make you my heir and brother in this art, as I am setting out to travel in foreign countries. Give thanks to God, Who, next to His spiritual servants, honours the sons of this sacred science.”
Norton lost no time in undertaking a journey to his instructor, and rode upwards of a hundred miles on horseback to reach the abode of the adept. During the forty days already mentioned he received the advice and directions of his friend. He was already to a great extent prepared for initiation by a long course of natural philosophy, as well as by the study of the occult and curious sciences. The “disclosure of the bonds of nature” took place, and he became convinced of the truth and certainty of the art by the rationality of its theorems. He felt confident of success in the practice, but the adept, on account of his youth, refused to instruct him in the process from the white to the red powder, lest the divine gift should be misused in a moment of passion. In due time, and after further proofs of his capacity and integrity, he would communicate the work of the medicinal stone. This, the supreme desire of the neophyte, was afterwards accomplished.
The chemical operations of Norton were destined, however, to meet with two signal disappointments. He had almost perfected the tincture, when his own servant, who was employed in the care of the furnace, believing that the prize was complete, carried it away. He again undertook the process and succeeded in making the elixir, but he complains that it was stolen by the wife of a merchant, said to be William Canning, Mayor of Bristol, who suddenly started into great wealth, and who built the splendid and lofty steeple of St Mary’s, Radcliffe, besides enlarging Westbury College.
It is doubtful whether Thomas Norton ever enjoyed the fruits of his supposed knowledge. He does not speak of his own transmutations, and if he is called by one of his contemporaries alchemista suo tempore peritissimus, by others he is termed Nugarum opifex in frivola scientia. The latter declare that he undid himself by his labours, and that all his friends who trusted him with their money were as much ruined as himself. According to Fuller, he lived and died very poor; nevertheless his family appears to have been held in high repute under King Henry VIII. There were nine brothers of the name of Norton. One anonymous writer asserts that they were all of them knights. The tomb of Sampson Norton, master of the king’s ordnance, and buried in Fulham Church, was adorned with Hermetic paintings, according to one account, but Faulkner, in his historical account of Fulham, describes it as a rich Gothic monument, ornamented with foliage and oak-leaves, and bearing an obliterated inscription.
Thomas Norton died in 1477. His grandson Samuel followed in his steps as an alchemist, and was the author of several Hermetic treatises, which are not very highly esteemed.