La Mayson pour Distiller des Eaües at El Escorial: Alchemy and Medicine at the Court of Philip II, 1556–1598

Abstract

In 1593 the Irishman, Richard Stanyhurst, one of the most controversial figures of Elizabethan letters, wrote to his friend Sir Francis Englefield from the town of El Escorial near Madrid, commenting on his activities at the court of the elderly Philip II. The letter, dated 2 August, begins with various personal matters before moving on to a more detailed description of the work he had been called upon to do for the Spanish monarch. Touching myne own affayres, I have not dealt as yet with his Majestie, nor with any of his officers, and doe purpose too use silence, until such tyme as I have accomplished such matters as are expected of me heere. A xv days his Majestie dyd apoynt too visit my wurches, but the physicians proceeding in theyr woonted malice, dyd diswayde his Majestie, saying the walk was too long from his chamber to the wurchhouse, and in the canicular days yt might be dangerous for hym to enter into those heates of the fyres and too smell too those strong waters, with sundry such bible babbles: too tedious too be written.1 Stanyhurst’s words speak for themselves of the true nature of his activity at the court. It seems that the Irishman had been contracted by Philip II to work in an alchemist’s laboratory installed in El Escorial complex, preparing all kinds of distilled waters and essences. The “prudent king” (el rey prudente), who was always portrayed by the black legend as an unbending counter-reformer intent on isolating his lands from any external influence that might threaten the purity of the Catholic faith, appears in the lines quoted above as being genuinely interested in the art of Hermes; challenging his personal physicians, visiting the laboratory where experiments, which were undoubtedly transmutational, were being carried out. This information, published by Albert J Loomie in 1965, did not evoke the slightest interest among historians of science; it was common in the historiography of the modern age to ignore (almost totally) scientific practice in the Spain of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Fortunately, this has changed in recent years, but it meant the exclusion from the international scene of what was, without a doubt, the first global empire and the most powerful monarchy of the period.2 The reign of Philip II is of special importance, given that he was profoundly interested in the sciences, and, thanks to his patronage, the court of Madrid became a meeting point for herbalists and doctors, astrologers and alchemists, natural philosophers and cosmographers. Immersed in the scientific culture of the Renaissance, Philip II established institutions for the advancement of knowledge, as well as financing expensive expeditions to discover the hidden natural treasures of his overseas possessions.3 There was no area of natural philosophy that he did not follow, and alchemy, inevitably, formed an important part of his interests. It was considered to be one of the major sciences of early modern times, and its practice was promoted by patrons and the powerful, who saw it as a means of gaining wealth, prolonging life, and even acquiring a higher knowledge, suitable only for a few initiates. In this sense, Philip II can be seen as a forward-thinking monarch who promoted the development of new medicines elaborated by alchemical practices and the search for the Llullian essence. Both of these tasks were carried out in laboratories installed in the royal houses. In Aranjuez, Madrid, and El Escorial he established three impressive distillation laboratories with their respective gardens attached. Native and exotic flora, distilled waters and therapeutic essences; a perfect relationship for a monarch fascinated by the collection of diverse medicinal secrets. Because Philip II did not only collect Titians and Boschs in his palaces. A legion of gardeners, distillers, apothecaries and natural philosophers were employed to satisfy the demands of this avid collector.4 However, this massive undertaking was soon to be totally forgotten. The passing of the centuries has done the rest, and today little is known of Philip’s passion. In this article, my intention is to present a synthesis of the work I have been doing in this area for the last fifteen years.5 I shall begin with the first news in the royal circle of alchemical practices connected with the transmutation of metals. These experiments have been interpreted as an attempt to find the gold necessary to cover the bankruptcies that characterized the whole of Philip’s reign. I will continue with the presentation of Philip II as an avid collector of secrets; an aspect relatively unknown in the historiography, but one that is unsurprising, framed as it is by the artistic interests of the Hapsburg dynasty in particular, and the culture of the period in general. Finally I will make a special point of the passion that Philip II demonstrated for the world of distilled waters and essences; a passion which led him to build a number of distillation laboratories, before undertaking the grandest of all, situated in the building that characterized his reign—El Escorial.6