The Adept Lascaris in Bohemia

One of the most remarkable stories of European alchemy is said to have taken place near Aš. The Wertherburg envoy Liebknecht was returning from a diplomatic journey to Vienna, accompanied by a mysterious stranger. He was learned, had travelled through much of Europe and spoke several languages with ease.

During the journey, their conversation turned to alchemy. Liebknecht was a determined sceptic. He did not believe that metals could be transmuted and maintained that he would believe only what he saw with his own eyes. His companion did not argue. When they reached Aš, he simply took him to a blacksmith.

The experiment was to be carried out at the forge itself. Because of the late hour, however, it had to be postponed. The following day the unknown man put mercury into a crucible, added a small quantity of red powder and heated it all.

Before the eyes of those present, the mercury began to solidify.

When they tipped out the vessel, the story says, what lay before them was not mercury but a magnificent piece of gold.

The stranger decided to repeat the experiment. This time, however, he did not consider the result sufficiently perfect. He therefore melted the metal again and added another unknown substance. The golden colour vanished almost immediately and the metal turned white.

After it had cooled, the gold had allegedly become exceptionally pure silver.

The mysterious alchemist offered both metals to Liebknecht as a gift. He then took his leave and continued his journey to France.

The story was recorded by the historian of Hermeticism Louis Figuier in his book Alchemy and Alchemists. He believed that the unknown traveller might have been the legendary Lascaris, one of the most mysterious adepts of his age.

Lascaris was said to descend from an old imperial family and, according to tradition, ranked among Europe’s most important alchemists. He travelled between countries and appeared especially in German-speaking regions. He was credited with initiating other adepts and knowing the secret of the transmutation of metals.

Yet he allegedly avoided such public demonstrations for the most part. If the man near Aš really was Lascaris, he may have broken his principles only to convince an unyielding sceptic.

The legend even claims that the crucibles used in this remarkable transmutation were later kept at the University of Jena.

Whether this was a genuine transmutation, a perfectly prepared trick or a story embellished later is something we shall probably never establish. Thanks to this tale, however, Aš found a place in one of the most mysterious chapters in the history of European alchemy.