To this adversary we are indebted for a description of Sethon, whom he declared eminently spiritual in appearance, short in stature, but very stout, having a high colour, and a beard of the French style. He calls him Alexander Sethonius, and states that he was a native of Molier, “in an island of the ocean.”
The lead required for the transmutation was brought by Jacob Zwinger from his own house, a crucible was borrowed from a goldsmith, and common sulphur was purchased on the road to the house where the operation was to be performed. During the whole course of the experiment, Sethon touched nothing, simply supplying the small packet which contained the powder of projection, and which transformed the base metal into gold of the purest quality, equivalent in weight to the original lead.
The experiment was repeated on another occasion with the same brilliant success, and, in addition to the testimony of Dienheim, we have also that of Zwinger, a name highly respected by the Germans in the history of medicine.[AC]
Alexander Sethon departed from Basle, and went under an assumed name to Strasbourg, whence he proceeded to Cologne, and abode with an amateur alchemist named Anton Bordemann, by whom he was brought into acquaintance with the other souffleurs of that city. He began a kind of alchemical crusade among them, imprudently exposing his knowledge to credulous and sceptical alike, and producing on one occasion six ounces of the precious metal by means of a single grain of his great philosophical tincture.[AD]
Leaving Cologne altogether petrified by his marvellous operations, the illustrious hierophant of the art Hermetic betook himself to Hamburg, where his further amazing projections are described by George Morhoff. At Munich, the next stage in his alchemical pilgrimage, he performed no transmutations, suddenly disappearing with the daughter of one of its citizens, whom he appears to have legally married, and to whom he was henceforth most devotedly attached.
The renown of Sethon about this time attracted the attention of Christian II., the young Elector of Saxony. He sent for the alchemist, but the latter, absorbed by his passion, had merged the Hermetic propagandist in the lover, and sent William Hamilton, his apparent domestic, but in reality a confidant and friend, to convince the Elector of the verity of alchemical operations by ocular evidence. A projection was performed by Hamilton with perfect success in the presence of the whole court, and the gold then manufactured resisted every test.[AE]
The Elector, previously a sceptic, was now more desirous than ever to behold the adept. Sethon reluctantly consented, and at this juncture seems to have been deserted by Hamilton. He was received with distinction and favour, and presented a small quantity of the powder to Christian II., who soon endeavoured to possess himself of the whole secret of the philosopher. Sethon refused to gratify him, and was deaf to persuasions and menaces; but the Elector, convinced that he was in possession of a living treasure, determined to overcome his reluctance, whatever the means employed. He imprisoned him in a tower, which was guarded by forty soldiers, who had strict orders to keep a constant watch on him. The unfortunate adept was subjected to every torment which covetousness and cruelty could suggest. He was pierced with pointed iron, scorched with molten lead, burnt by fire, beaten with rods, racked from head to foot, yet his constancy never forsook him. At length he outwearied his torturers, and was left in solitary confinement.
At this time Michael Sendivogius, a Moravian gentleman, generally resident at Cracovia, in Poland, chanced to be tarrying at Dresden. He was a skilful chemist, who, like others of his period, was in search of the philosophical stone, and who naturally took interest in the case of Alexander Sethon. Having some influence at the court of the Elector, he obtained permission to see him; and after several interviews, at which the adept was exceedingly reserved on all subjects connected with the divine science, he proposed to contrive his escape. The tortured alchemist gladly consented to his plans, and promised to assist him in his Hermetic pursuits. As soon as the resolution was formed, Sendivogius departed to Cracovia, sold his house in order to raise money, and returning to Dresden, established himself in the vicinity of the prison, gaining the favour of its warders by his prodigality and indirect bribes. At length the day came for the execution of his plan; he regaled the guards better than usual, and when they were all drunk, he carried Sethon, who was unable to walk, on his back to a post-chaise, in which they proceeded without discovery. They called at the house of Sethon for his wife, who was in possession of a quantity of the transmuting powder, and then made all haste to reach Cracovia. There Sendivogius required from the alchemist the fulfilment of his promise, but was blankly refused by the adept, who referred him to God, saying that the revelation of so awful a mystery would be a heinous iniquity.
“You see what I have endured,” he continued, “my nerves are shrunk, my limbs dislocated; I am emaciated to the last extremity, and my body is almost corrupted; even to avoid all this I did not disclose the secrets of philosophy.”
Sendivogius was not, however, destined to be deprived of all recompense for his pains and self-sacrifice. Alexander Sethon did not long enjoy the liberty which his friend had obtained for him, and on his death, which occurred two years after his escape, he presented his preserver with the remains of his transmuting powder.