The Arcanum (4 page)

Meanwhile, desperate to find some justification for his refusal to hand Böttger back to the Prussians, Augustus decided that
his birth in Schleiz gave him a useful piece of ammunition. Schleiz was not part of Prussia but of Augustus's dominion, Reussia.
Thus, Augustus claimed, Böttger belonged not to Frederick but to him. But even in the face of this forceful argument the Prussians
remained unflinching in their determination to secure Böttger's return, refusing to withdraw from Wittenberg without him.
The only solution, Augustus decided, was to spirit the alchemist away to safer custody in Dresden before the Prussians realized
what was happening. The governor of Saxony, Prince Egon von Fürstenberg, also a keen believer in alchemy, was therefore given
royal instructions to escort Böttger back to Dresden under close guard, and on no account to let him slip into Prussian hands.

Judging by the cloak-and-dagger way in which the transfer was accomplished, von Fürstenberg must have considered that the
Prussians posed a very real threat. Frederick's troops were most likely to try to seize the prisoner en route to Dresden.
To avoid this possibility, Böttger was awoken at four in the morning of November 24, 1701, bundled into a waiting carriage
and driven along obscure back ways rather than by the main roads. He was given a cavalry escort of sixteen men, and an advance
party went ahead to check for signs of Prussian soldiers. In order to hoodwink the Prussians into believing that Böttger was
still in Wittenberg, Saxon soldiers continued to stand guard outside his rooms as they had for the past weeks, and for the
next two days food was carried into his rooms as usual.

By the time the Prussians realized they had been outwitted, Böttger was safely beyond their reach. He arrived in Dresden four
days later, on November 28, and was imprisoned in the Goldhouse, a part of the royal castle that was already equipped as a
laboratory. From now on, Augustus decreed, Böttger would remain a prisoner of Saxony. He would never walk free unless he first
revealed the arcanum for making gold.

The king is a ruler, whose genial and good-natured address captivates the hearts of all who come to know him.…Ambition and
a lust for pleasure are his chief qualities, though the latter has the supremacy. Often his ambition is curbed by his lust
for pleasure, never the latter by his ambition.…He needs money in order to give the rein to his generosity, to gratify his
wishes and satisfy his lust for pleasure, and thus he values those who procure him money, lower than those who content his
ambition and desires.…He does not require that money be furnished him by unlawful means, but if it be so furnished, its acceptance
causes him no discomfort, and if he can put the blame of it on another he feels himself free of all reproach.

C
OUNT
J
AKOB VON
F
LEMING,
Character sketch of Augustus the Strong, 1722

E
ven in an age not known for its moderation, Augustus the Strong, the king into whose clutches Böttger had now fallen, was
among the most excessive of rulers. Augustus had inherited the title Elector of Saxony on the death of his brother John George
IV in 1693. But ruling over one of the largest and most important states in Germany, a country divided into hundreds of minor
princedoms, in no way satisfied his relentless ambition. He craved absolute kingship of the kind enjoyed by Louis XIV of France,
and dreamed of outshining the Sun King by establishing himself as the most powerful ruler in Germany.

The obvious way of boosting his position in the hierarchy of Europe was to increase his dominions, and three years after becoming
elector his hunger for power drove him to enter the election for the kingdom of Poland. To tip the balance in his favor he
renounced the Protestant religion of his forebears and adopted the Catholic faith, a move he had few qualms about despite
the fact that both his Saxon subjects and his wife were Protestant and deeply suspicious of his motives. With a combination
of Russian support and massive bribery, Augustus beat his opponents and was crowned King of Poland in 1697.

At the time of Böttger's incarceration in Dresden, Augustus was less successfully engaged in trying to expand his Polish kingdom.
In an attempt to conquer Livonia, a province of Sweden that had once been part of Poland, he had formed an alliance with Russia
and Denmark against the Swedish King Charles XII and invaded. So began the Northern War (1700–1721), a conflict that proved
disastrous for the fortunes of Poland and its Saxon king, and would lead in 1706 to Augustus's temporary abdication.

The king's nickname, Augustus the Strong, was a reflection partly of his great physical strength but mainly of his legendary
prowess with women. A man of immense energy and charisma, tall and compellingly handsome, he was a compulsive collector of
beautiful women who used his “favorites” to bolster his image of regal potency. Although the presence of royal mistresses
was very much an accepted part of court life of the day, in Augustus's case they were so many and varied that a year after
the king's death, one of his courtiers, Baron von Poellnitz, was able to write a book entitled
La Saxe Galante
entirely devoted to Augustus's sexual liaisons. The publication enjoyed enormous success and became a popular topic of conversation
in Europe.

As a young man Augustus had traveled Europe incognito, wooing aristocratic ladies as he went. On his return to Dresden he
married the Princess Eberhardine of Bayreuth, but this union proved only a minor hiccup in a pattern of repeated infidelity.
The political unease between Saxony and Poland was alleviated by taking to heart counsel given by one of his courtiers, who
suggested that “As your Majesty has two courts, one in Saxony and the other at Warsaw, you ought to be a compleat Monarch,
and injustice, keep a Mistress at each Court. This will conduct undoubtedly to the Satisfaction of both Nations.”

Whether slave girls or princesses—and Augustus had mistresses from all walks of life—the objects of his desire were typically
showered with gem-studded dresses, lavished with priceless jewels and enticed with sumptuous entertainments until, sooner
or later, they invariably succumbed. It was not unusual for the king to attend state functions in the company of several mistresses.
The Queen of Prussia thought his behavior charming when he brought an entourage of five beauties to one of her evening soirées.
Such was his sexual prowess that, in addition to his only legitimate child, he was said to have sired a different child for
every day of the year, although only nine of his illegitimate offspring by five different mistresses were acknowledged by
their wayward father.

The king's most notorious paramour was Constantia, Countess of Cozelle, the erstwhile wife of the king's chief minister of
state, de Hoyhm. She became the king's mistress after a drunken wager on the subject of her peerless beauty.

The king together with Prince von Fürstenberg pledged 1,000 thalers that de Hoyhm's paragon of a wife would not appear so
striking if seen surrounded by all the other beauties of the court. Madame de Hoyhm was duly summoned and the king introduced.
Before him he saw a woman with “features most delicate; the Beauty of her Face, when laughing, was unparalleled and capable
of captivating the most insensible Heart. Her Hair was black, her Breasts could not but raise any Person's Admiration.…” In
short the king was predictably smitten.

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, an intrepid early-eighteenth-century traveler, made a visit to the court in 1716 en route to the
embassy in Constantinople where her husband was ambassador, and recorded details of the liaison, which was clearly still the
subject of some gossip at court. Lady Mary noted how the king had reportedly revealed his passion for Madame de Hoyhm by “bringing
in one hand a bag of a hundred thousand crowns, and the other a horseshoe, which he snapped asunder before her face.” The
inference was clear: not only was his majesty physically potent, he was also generous with those he desired. Lady Mary continued,
“I do not know which charmed her; but she consented to leave her husband and give herself up to him entirely.”

Augustus gave Constantia the title of Countess of Cozelle after her expedient divorce from her bemused husband. She was ensconced
by the king in the grand Taschenberg Palace, linked by a covered passage to the royal residence, and he also bought her the
Schloss Pillnitz, a beautiful country estate on the banks of the Elbe. For some years she dominated the king, holding sway
at court, generally giving herself “the airs of a queen” and becoming fabulously rich in the process, but also earning the
hatred of many of Augustus's key advisors.

Eventually she fell from favor and was forced into exile. In 1713 she escaped to Prussia, but having been bartered for Prussian
prisoners of war was brought back to Saxony and imprisoned in “a melancholy castle,” the fortress prison of Steulpen, where
she died after fifty years in captivity in 1765.

If the image of a monarch of unparalleled power was reflected in Augustus's possession of as many women as he pleased, he
reinforced the message by displaying the pomp and privilege of kingship at every available opportunity. He lavished untold
sums on magnificent ceremonies and spectacular entertainments. Fine clothes, precious jewels and exquisite works of art were
also a passion. One of his most extravagant commissions, made in 1702 by Johann Melchior Dinglinger, was an extraordinary
centerpiece measuring a square meter in size and entitled
The Birthday of Grand Mogul.
This priceless confection of gold, silver, enamels, pearls and gems depicted an Oriental palace populated by 130 exquisitely
modeled exotic figures bringing gifts for the emperor's birthday.

When Böttger arrived in Saxony, the court at Dresden was one of the largest and most sophisticated in Germany. During his
travels as a young man, Augustus had stayed at Versailles and been deeply impressed by all he had witnessed. Under his rule
Dresden metamorphosed into his own version of Louis XIV's splendid court. A massive city program of building and embellishment
was undertaken. Dresden had been badly damaged in a fire in 1685, and the royal palace had suffered from another catastrophic
blaze in 1701. New grandiose buildings mushroomed, and the bridge spanning the Elbe and joining the new and old city was rebuilt
in stone. Matthäus Daniel Pöppelmann, a leading Baroque architect, was employed by the king to build next to the royal palace
the Zwinger, a stylish arena circled with classical galleries and pavilions, which provided the elegant backdrop to many of
the most opulent of Augustus's spectacles, entertainments and sports. The aim was to construct a city to outshine anything
else in Germany and thus highlight its sovereign's unequalled might.

At court, protocol and formality also mirrored that of the Sun King. An incredibly complex hierarchy evolved in which royal
officials were divided into more than ninety different echelons. There was a retinue of physicians, artists, historians, architects,
gardeners, horse trainers, soldiers, lackeys, chefs and pages, along with sundry grades of personal and administrative staff.
Apart from their practical duties, the higher ranking officials were also expected to amuse the king by joining in the constant
stream of musical and theatrical extravaganzas that took place when the king was in residence. The role of numerous staff
was simply to provide the entertainments for the court: there were dwarfs and buffoons to amuse him with their physical deformity
and mental agility; there was an operatic company, a court ballet, a troupe of sixty dancers and a company of actresses; and
there were also several orchestras. One way or another the vast majority of the city's population was there to service the
court, and virtually all the city's social and cultural activity revolved around the king and his family.

But there was far more to Augustus's character than mere love of display and sexual self-indulgence. In France he had also
noted the mercantile policy introduced by Louis's chief minister, Colbert, and, in common with many other German rulers, he
aimed to put similar policies into practice in his own kingdom. Saxony in the early years of the seventeenth century had enjoyed
one of the most affluent economies in Germany. Her fertile lands, rich mineral deposits and temperate climate had enabled
the population to prosper and agriculture and industry to flourish. But now the country suffered from the devastating aftereffects
of the Thirty Years' War. Farms were run-down, peasants exploited by their estate owners and industry by and large demolished.
Augustus hoped that by following the French example of encouraging home trade and local mining, and developing science and
manufacturing, he would restore his land to its former prosperity and in so doing reinforce his regal authority and replenish
his financial resources.

A nobleman named Ehrenfried Walter von Tschirnhaus was employed by the king as a councillor of court to locate mineral deposits
in the kingdom and develop new manufacturing techniques. An associate of the philosopher Leibniz, Tschirnhaus had made lengthy
studies of mathematics, science and philosophy at the University of Leiden in Holland and the Academy of Sciences in Paris.
In Saxony, he set up three glass factories and a dyeing manufactory. He also developed huge burning glasses, based on those
he had seen in Paris, that could concentrate the sun's rays and generate far greater heat than could be achieved using more
conventional methods. There was one industry, however, in which more than any other Tschirnhaus longed to succeed—the manufacture
of porcelain.