Monday, April 16, 2012

Introduction

The 14th and 15th centuries were a major period of popularity for alchemy, which continued into the 16th and 17th centuries. Alchemical works used a combination of text and pictures. It presented its material in discreet stages, many with accompanying illustrations, with both a spiritual and a material goal. The stages usually involved symbolic death, transformation, and spiritual rebirth.

Like the tarot, the alchemists used Greco-Roman myth as well as Christian imagery. Their numerous arrays in the form of trees, with circles placed on them designating planets or alchemical stages. Robert O'Neil (Tarot Symbolism pp. 264-291) found points of contact between alchemy and tarot in every one of the trumps. I will be following in his footsteps.

Some surviving alchemical texts antedated or were contemporaneous with the first tarot. The Turbo Philosophorum, an anthology of Arabic sources, was part of the Visconti Library in Milan. A so-called "Arnaldian" work (from Arnald of Villanova) called the Rosarium Philosophorum existed in manuscript by the end of the 14th century. Urszula Sculakowska, in The Alchemy of Light (2000), says that illustrated versions circulated by 1400, called “Rosarium cum figuris” (p. 25, at http://books.google.com/books?id=ZJox8E ... um&f=false). Unfortunately, the earliest surviving version is from 1550 Frankfurt. In miniature, here is the whole series.(from http://www.alchemywebsite.com/roscom.html). It is a sequence with a beginning, middle, and end.

Before 1400, Chaucer spoke ofalchemy, and in anthropomorphic terms, in his “Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale” (late 14th century). In the “Rosarie” of “Arnold,” the Yeoman tells us, Sol and Luna are said to be the father and mother of the dragon Mercury and his brother "brimstoon" (lines 1418-1447, at (http://classiclit.about.com/library/bl- ... an-can.htm). This is not the plot of the Rosarium, but of some other Arnaldian work; but the passage shows how early and widespread the Rosarium and other Arnaldian works were known, and the metaphors they used.

A German work called the Heilege Dreifaltigkeit (Holy Trinity) existed by 1408 and survives in several early 15th century manuscripts. A copy was owned by the father of the Duchess of Mantua, Barbara of Brandenburg; she in turn was a close friend of Bianca Maria Sforza, who is intimately connected with the early Milanese tarot.

Another set of alchemical illustrations occurs in a book that doesn't even discuss alchemy, a commentary on the early Christian writer Fulgentius. It is nominally about the Greco-Roman gods; but as Stanislaus de Rola analyzed them in his 1973 Alchemy: the Secret Art, the images are unmistkably alchemical in character.

The people who did the alchemical illustrations were the same as those who did the tarot, namely, illuminators or miniaturists who did detailed small work on paper. It would have been natural for imagery from one to cross over to the other. The people for whom the works wer done were also the same, early on, namely, the elites, whether nobles, businesspeople, or clergy, of cities such as Milan and Florence.

Lynn Thorndike, in his multi-volume History of Magic and Experimental Science (1923-1928), cites numerous 15th century Italian alchemical manuscripts. Some, purporting to be copies of 14th century works, are discussed in a chapter called "The Lullian Alchemical Collection." It starts at
http://books.google.com/books?id=IbvlQFj4YfUC&pg=PR5&lpg=PR5&dq=Thorndike+lullian+alchemical+collection&source=bl&ots=gspg7qU9VQ&sig=bgKaObsWUO4pP2MeP9K-r8ECKq4&hl=en&ei=ZTcxTYOtFo24sQOnpqHSBQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBMQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false.

If you skim this chapter, you will see that many of these manuscripts, all of the so-called Lullian school, date from the 15th century.

Another chapter is devoted to fifteenth century alchemy as such, "Alchemy Through the Fifteenth Century" (starting at http://books.google.com/books?id=IbvlQFj4YfUC&pg=PA332&lpg=PA332&dq=Thorndike+alchemy+through+the+fifteenth+century&source=bl&ots=gspg7qWaTM&sig=msT6c9eQ53PXD5ySsRH88bQMK7I&hl=en&ei=gT8xTbD4EoK6sQPeydyvBQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBcQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false.)

The alchemical writings in this chapter are not by any well-known alchemists; but at least they exist. One (p. 342ff) is by the physician to anti-Pope Felix V, Filippo Visconti's father-in-law, answering Felix’s questions about alchemy. Of more interest--because it says more--is a purported letter between Cosimo di Medici and Pius II. While spurious, it was copied in a manuscript authentically before 1475. Thorndike writes (p. 346f)
The most holy father is advised to take water of gold and place it without division into the elements in a spherical glass so that it may circulate and be reduced to the true fifth essence and finally converted into the elixir...The vase is to cook for 170 days continuously over a slow fire until the contents turn successively black, red, yellow, green, the color of a peacock, and that whitest of appearance which indicates the elixir for silver. The fire is then augmented and the elixir for gold is finally obtained.
In relation to the tarot, the last two stages might correspond to the Moon and Sun card. Black might relate to Death, and the other colors to cards in between Death and Moon; it is hard to say more. After the elixir is made, it is suitable for the regeneration of body and spirit, i.e. the resurrection portrayed in the Judgment. But I am projecting backwards from the tarot. In itself this description is quite mechanical.

LULLIAN TEXTS AND THE SOLA-BUSCA TAROT


From the large number of Italian manuscripts that Thorndike mentions in the chapter on “The Lullian Collection,” we at least know one variety of alchemy that was admired in Italy throughout the 15th century and probably a little earlier the "Lullian" and “Arnuldian” schools (they are sometimes differentiated). Lullian  works used diagrams and wheels, just as the real Lull used wheels with words on them, from which he generated interesting associations (Roberts, Mirror of Alchemy p. 40, confirmed by examples in Thorndike, "The Lullian Alchemical Collection," p. 41f).
 Image
 There are also "philosophical trees," another species of diagram. Otherwise, illustrations were of the apparatus to be constructed: furnaces, cauldrons, flasks, etc. There do not seem to have been the colorful tarot-like illustrations, showing people and mythological figures, that became popular later. However Tarotpedia does cite one Lullian manuscript for its picture of a king (, in which it finds a dragon similar to one in a Sola-Busca trump (http://www.tarotpedia.com/wiki/Sola_Busca_Cards:_Nabuchodenasor). They also note wings on another trump (http://www.tarotpedia.com/wiki/Sola_Busca_Cards:_Ipeo) similar to those in another alchemical work, the Rosarium, which I will discuss later.

Several of the SB pips also suggest alchemical apparatus and operations: the Nine of Coins has a man lying on top of flames (an alchemical reference noted by Tarotpedia); the Seven of Coins has a man apparently adjusting the flame of an oven (per Di Vicenzo, p. 75 of Sola-Busca Tarot); the Eight of Batons has its arrows in a container topped with red flowers that resemble flames; and the Five of Swords has its swords in a pot, as though to melt them down;
Image
 Tarotpedia also relates alchemy to three other cards, pictured below.
Tarotpedia's most persuasive case is for the Ace of Coins, which they say represents the three main stages of the Work (http://www.tarotpedia.com/wiki/Ace_of_Coins_Sola-Busca). The Latin motto of the large disk is "Servir. Chi persevera infin otiene": "To serve. If you persist you obtain [your goal] in the end," The motto above the angel on our left is Trahor Fati, "I am drawn by Fate.".The suggestion is that the latter, the left-hand angel, represents melancholia, corresponding to the metal lead and the alchemical stage of the nigredo, or blackening. The One in the middle, standing as though victorious and holding a huge presumably gold coin, would be the sanguine, corresponding to the rubedo or reddening, the final stage of the work. The one on the right, sitting peacefully in prayer, would then be the albedo, or whitening.

A more conventional interpretation, which does not exclude the alchemical, might be that the one on the left represents the Old Testament God the Father, always disppointed in his people; the center one would be Christ, triumphing over death by means of life his life and death; the one on the right would be the Holy Spirit, conventionally associated with the white dove..

Tarotpedia also relates the Three of Swords (above middle) to Ripley’s alchemical Scrowle, written c. 1460-70 (http://www.tarotpedia.com/wiki/Three_of_Swords_Sola-Busca), where he first says:
The Blood of mine heart I wish
Now causeth both joy and blisse
And dissolveth the very Stone
And knitteth him ere he have done...
And 13 lines or so later ends:
Many a name he hath full sure
And all is but one Nature
Thou must part him in three
And then knit him as the Trinity.
But there is no mention of swords in the poem, and no parting of anything in three parts on the card..

Ripley is said to have been a Lullian. Its illustrations, in cruder form, might go back to the 15th century. One part has symbols of the Sun, Moon, and Earth in a triangular configuration similar to the coins on the Three of Coins (http://www.tarotpedia.com/wiki/Three_of_Coins_Sola-Busca)

I find these parallels to alchemy less persuasive than in the case of the Ace of Coins, since there are other explanations that more closely fit the cards. The Three of Swords  seems to me to relate to a vision of St. Augustine's depicted at that time in various Augustinian churches, most notably one by Lippo Lippi in Florence (http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=12&t=621&p=9839&hilit=augustine#p9839). And the array of three coins might simply be a  way of representing three as a Pythagorean "triangular number,"a configuration commonly shown in the arithmetic texts of the day:
Image
.The Lullian texts, before Ripley, were mainly concerned with apparati and diagrams, as well as describing how by means of them operations on some obscure material could be performed: dissolving, vaporizing, scraping residue off the sides of containers, condensing, burning, grinding, etc. Here is a sample of the type of illustrations that we mostly see, in an authentic 15th century Ripley manuscript (Jennifer M. Rampling, “Establishing the Canon: George Ripley and his alchemical source,” on the Web).
Image
There is not much here that relates to the usual tarot, as opposed to the Sola-Busca. Even when representing a specific stage of the work, e.g. the nigredo, all we see is a piece of apparatus painted black.
Image
No tarot-like grinning skeletons or old men with scythes here.

RIPLEY AND THE HUMANIZATION OF ALCHEMY

Perhaps we will find tarot-like imagery in the alchemical texts’ words more than the pictures. In Ripley’s case, he gives a sample of the writing. It is a short poem called A Vision . We know it only from a 16th century manuscript; it may or may not be actually by him, but it is consistent with Ripley’s known 15th century works. In it a toad secretes poison, dies, and turns various colors; from its transformed body comes the elixir (Thorndike, p. 353 of his chapter on 15th century alchemy, http://books.google.com/books?id=IbvlQFj4YfUC&pg=PA353&lpg=PA353&dq=%22When+busie+at+my+booke%22&source=bl&ots=gspg9kXgWJ&sig=Hbwelx0CW7BbX-fIpHjnwf3Ab_w&hl=en&ei=u2gzTdqrMJO6sAPD5bzPBQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&sqi=2&ved=0CBUQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=%22When%20busie%20at%20my%20booke%22&f=false). All of this would seem to refer to substances in a laboratory rather than to the human psyche. Yet the toad, art historian Laurinda Dixon tells us, was a symbol of human sinfulness (Bosch, p. 224):
Chemical theory relegated toads to the lowest sphere of creation, for they were believed to arise spontaneously form the action of heat on rotted substances. Their low nature is also reflected in Christian iconography, which associated toads with sin and heresy. Chemical texts picture them as symbols of nigredo, upon which the entire process rests. Like Christ, they must be killed before their resurrection into perfected substance.
In this tradition, Hieronymus Bosch's Adoration of the Magi shows as one of the gifts a small golden sculpture of the sacrifice of Isaac. The sculpture is supported by toads. You can make them out on the ground in the reproduction at http://www.lib-art.com/artgallery/7274-adoration-of-the-magi-hieronymus-bosch.html.. Below is the detail itself (Dixon p. 208).
Image
The sacrifice of Isaac was seen as a precursor to the Crucifixion. Hence the sculpture symbolizes the redemption of the toads beneath. A similar redemption is implied in the alchemical transformations described by Ripley: the end result of the toad's transformation is the elixir. If the toad is human sinfulness, the alchemical sequence could also be an "imitatio Christi” within the human soul.

It is this image that I will start with in considering the Fool.

Fool

The Alchemical Fool: bringing down the spiritual fruit.


I will start with the Fool card of the Noblet, c. 1650. An animal is grabbing at the Fool's genitals. It is a strange creature, halfway between a dog and a cat. And in the Noblet, it even has webbed feet. As Debra pointed out recently on the Tarot History Forum, Flornoy identifies the animal as a civet, a species that is halfway between dog and cat; it was imported from India to France in order to kill rats. It is now banned, as it killed every small animal, even useful ones. But even this creature does not have webbed feet. (1)

I am struck by the similarity of the animal's position to that of a strange creature in 17th century alchemical illustrations, depicted as lunging at another figure, in this case female. In the explanations for this figure that the alchemists provided, it is identified with "the fixed" as opposed to the maiden, which is "the volatile." The lunge is the fixed's attempt to assimilate the volatile. The process is "the fixation of the volatile." There is also  "the volatilization of the fixed." Here is another example, with another doglike animal, except that this time it is the fixation of the volatile.

In some cases, the animal representing the "fixed" even has webbed feet. It is referred to then as a toad, notably in a celebrated text and illumination called the Ripley's Vision, written in the 15th century but not known outside of England until the late 16th. Ripley relates:
A Toade full rudde I saw, did drink the juice of Grapes so fast,
Till over charged with the broth, his Bowels all to brast...
Then it suffers mightily, dies, and turns various colors, before its body safely combines the volatile with its own lowly nature. When it does, it proves to contain the essence of the elixir, the universal medicine.

 It strikes me that volatility is part of the Fool's nature. He roams from place to place, never settled.  He's afraid of everyone.  In Italian the card's title is "Matto," meaning Madman. It comes from the same root as the English "mad." It means "cut down, crippled, mentally deficient," according to my 1967 Webster's New World Dictionary. He's a maniac.But the animal is after something he has.

An alchemical illustration of such a toad, representing our earthly nature, is below, from a 15th century alchemical manuscript now in the British Library (2):
In another poem, the "Ripley Scrowle," the toad appears again, with webbed feet. It is being eaten by a dragon, symbolizing uncontrolled volatility. The writing below the image says that "I"--meaning the dragon:
...That sometyme was both wood and wild,
And now I am both meeke and mild;...
Destructive madness lifts as a result of eating the toad.

Above this image are Adam and Eve next to something resembling the Tree of Knowledge, from which grapes grow.

I think we now know what the Grapes symbolize in the first poem. They are the fruit of the tree of knowledge. To eat them brings one much suffering and certain death, as it did for Adam and Eve. But the eventual result is a return to paradise, and perhaps a higher state of being than if one never ate at all, since one now has both immortality and knowledge.

Let me compare this with another image, the 2 of Batons of a deck done in early 16th century Italy. Alongside it I put two other images, one a Roman mosaic from Norbonne France, of a goat eating grapes, and the other of a young goat climibng up the god Dionysus's robe, Roman from Sicily. The one of the goat illustrates a poem by Virgil. 
 It seems to me that the situation is much the same as  the fox and the grapes, an image from the Song of Songs. The goat is the fixed, the grapes are  is the volatile. Too much wine leads to volatile anger and other forms of destructive madness. The right amount brings good cheer. But this toad is a small animal, no dragon. Eating of the forbidden fruit, it eats too much. It is then the animal who is the Madman, Le Mat. As for the Fool above him, as we shall see, he is none other than God himself, in a state of unknowing.

For that exposition I will turn to another way of representing the Fool, in a way similar to that in which the Greco-Roman god Saturn was depicted. Several early Fool cards are very reminiscent of a typical image of Saturn, which I show here in the "Mantegna" series of around 1465, at Right. To its left are the d'Este and Charles VI card Fool card. These are similar mainly in the figure's giant size with much smaller figures gathered around it.

Saturn castrated his father Uranus, and was castrated in turn by his son Jupiter. The children below the Fool are like the children of Saturn, waiting to be eaten. One c. 1420 drawing in a book about the Greco-Roman gods shows Jupiter, who was hidden by his mother until he could grow up, ending the cycle by castrating his father.

Saturn in the myth is a crazy madman, devouring his children out of jealousy, unwilling to let the succession of generations take place. Another aspect of the scene is that Saturn here would have signified the god of the Old Testament, as Saturn was in medieval and even ancient times identified with the Jewish God (as SteveM points out in a link I have footnoted). So Jupiter's castration of Saturn would represent the overthrow of Judaism by Christ, and liberation from the iron law of Jehovah into the rule of the god of love. However Christianity adds a new wrinkle. Since God and Jesus are two aspects of the same god, it is God himself who by undergoing suffering and death redeems his curse upon humanity and ends his own madness. (2)

This Christianization of the myth of Saturn has its alchemical equivalent. Saturn, for whom the corresponding metal is lead, is the stage known as the blackening, the nigredo, a stage which the toad in Ripley's Vision reaches in death. Lead was known to be poisonous, and madness preceded death. In the tarot, that is how the sequence starts: a madness that proceeds toward deth.

Here is another version of the myth, from Natale Conti's Mythologies, 1551. Speaking of the alchemists, he says:
They claim the ancients say Jupiter castrated Saturn with a sharp sickle, threw his testicles into the sea, with Venus then arising from them and the sea-spume, because Saturn is a certain salt and is the father of Jove, as it were, because of a salt-preparation deriving from metallic salt. But because this "Jove" or salt-derivative exists in a glass vessel, and is released into a very subtle and delicate water through the action of fire, which is also understood as Jove himself, and, also, because this "Jove" carries off with himself the "virile parts," that is, cuts off and separates the sulphur hidden within the salt, the residue being received into a vessel placed for the reception of it, he is said to have cut off the potency of Saturn. And since salt sinks down in water, "in the sea," Venus is said to be born from this compound of salt and sulphur.(3)
The alchemists have conflated two myths, one about Jupiter's castration of Saturn, and the other about Venus's creation from the testicles of Uranus. I will talk about Venus later, with reference to the Love card; for now I will focus on the castration of Saturn. Castration is the extraction of the sulphur, the "potency of Saturn" from which the elixir is obtained. That is what the animal on the Fool card wants. However in its accessible solid form, the sulphur is in combination with other things that are harmful (Saturn in a primitive state). To be useful for humanity, the sulphur must be separated off from the harmful things, so that it can later be recombined with things in a way that will be beneficial. So in a new form, a new salt, it becomes the chemical equivalent of Venus, spiritually the "celestial Venus" of divine love. But that will take the entire alchemical sequence to achieve.

I think that same account of separation is illustrated in the following c. 1420 illumination (even though it is in a book describing the gods, I think the artist has drawn on alchemical imagery). Here, while King Saturn and Queen Rhea look on above, a prince, i.e. Jupiter, gives male genitalia to children, who then put it in the mud. Children are associated alchemically with the stage of multiplicatio, because it is the reproduction of the elixir. Merely touching it to other properly purified substances will produce more of it. It is the substance of magical transformation. (4)

The genitalia on the Noblet Fool are what links him to the myth of Saturn. The animal reaching up links him to the divine; it is on the one hand a deliverance from madness, and on the other hand the death and redemption of those creatures of earth who eat of the divine substance.

In France of c. 1660, there was published a deck that seems to split into two cards what was in the f Noblet put into one. This is the Minchiate Francesi, which is dated to c.1660, according to "Huck" on THF (http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=782). Huck observes that the dating comes from a publication in which the noted French card historian Thiery Depaulis participated (http://www.millon-associes.com/doc/CP-Carte-a-jouer-051111.pdf).
"Chaos," I think, would be the upper Folly, the god, and "Momus" the lower Folly, the human, in the world of original sin.. These two names come from Hesiod's genealogy of the gods, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyx_(mythology)), in which Chaos is first and Momus his grandson, a god who mocks the others, In the illustration, however, Momus appears as a court jester, who typically mocks the people around him. This reduction in status may be due to a satire written by Alberti in the 1450s, in which the gods throw Momus out of heaven because of the chaos he causes there. He is then on earth, where he fathers the goddess Rumor. Between his mocking and the activity of Rumor, the earth turns to chaos as well. The successful mocking of authority and the spreading of false rumors results in anarchy.

Etteilla in the late 18th century may have used these cards for what, in this light, would also be two versions of Folly. Below I present a black and white copy of the card as it appears in the original, from the book Wicked Pack of Cards, and in the revised version of c. 1840.
 The title "Chaos" is not in the original. But it does appear in Eteilla's discussion of the card. In the 2nd Cahier he says:
 The first sheet, listed no. 1, represented...a light surrounded by a thick cloud, or the chaos which was turned back in order to give place to the Truth, at the moment when the Creator manifested his glory and his sovereign bounty to the Creatures of the whole Universe, who slept and will sleep again in his intelligence.
It is God's own chaos when he created heaven and earth: "...and the earth was void and without form. And God said 'Let there be light."

Etteilla's version of the card he labeled "Folly", number 78 out of 78 cards,  is on the left; I have used a later colored version, but in this case, unlike the later card 1, and except possibly for the coloring, it is exactly the same as the original.. Etteilla made him a beggar. But perhaps, looking back at the earlier image, he means the folly of the world around this beggar rather than of himself..
In the revised version, someone added "The alchemist." This must have been, I think, a distancing from physical alchemy at a time when science was reigning supreme. In the 2nd Cahier, Etteilla himself praised alchemy, to the extent that it was a road of healing, especially of the spirit, rather than of turning base metals into gold. The beginning of the journey was card 78, which in his writing he placed between cards 21 and 22, and the end was card 1.

To sum up so far: the Fool, or Madman, is at the beginning of the work. He can be envisioned as either total volitality, as in Chaos or the prima materia in either gasious or liquid state. Alternatively, the Fool, the prima materia, can be seen the result of burning, a black substance akin to Saturn, which eats its children--everything that comes of it--yet contains the precious ingrediants later to become the elixir.

References: the Fool and Alchemy. 1. civet: see Debra's post at http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=383&start=70#p9672. For more on the lunging animal, see my post at: http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=383&start=70#p9669. The image of the Noblet Fool is from Flornoy's site at tarot-history.com. The first alchemical image is from Mylius's 1622 Philosophia Reformata; I have taken itfrom http://www.hermetik.ch/eidolon/bilder/d ... /index.htm. The commentary I get from Stanislas de Rola, The Golden Game, p. 180 ff. The second image is from Michael Maier’s Symbola Aureae mensae, 1617. I take image and commentary from de Rola. The Ripley Vision is at http://www.levity.com/alchemy/rpvision.html. The Ripley Scrowle image is at http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File: ... Scroll.JPG. The accompanying poem is at http://www.levity.com/alchemy/ripscrol.html. For more discussion of the toad see http://www.levity.com/alchemy/toad.html.
2. Image of toad: Laurinda Dixon, Bosch, p. 223,  folio 68, from MS Harley 2407.. 
3. Saturn: for more discussion see http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=383&start=80#p9705. SteveM on the Jewish god, two posts further down. My continuation: http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=383&start=80#p9757. The drawing is from the De deorum imaginabilus libellus, in Vatican Library Reginensis 1290, a manuscript that Seznec (Survival of the Pagan Gods, p. 177) dates to 1420. I get my image from Hans Liebeschütz, Fulgentius Metaforalis: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Antiken Mythologie im Mittelalter, Leipzig 1926.
3. Conti quote: Anthony diMatteo, ed. and trans., Natale Conti's Mythologies, a Select translation, p. 67.
4. The illumination is from Vatican Apostolica Cod. Pal. lat. 1066, of which this is page 226. I get it from de Rola's Alchemy the Secret Art.

Magician

2. The Alchemical Magician: the one with objects that heal.

Robert O’Neill, in his book Tarot Symbolism, points to two alchemical images that resemble the Tarot Magician. For one, he cites de Rola’s Alchemy for a 1477 century manuscript of Norton’s Ordinall. Showing an alchemist at his table on which are a crescent, a cup, and a ball. Next to it I put a Magician card from Ferrara of almost exactly the same time, c. 1475; (I reproduce the alchemical  image from http://www.bridgemanart.com/asset/7746/English-School-15th-century/Add-10302-fol.37v-Alchemy-master-preparing-ingredi?search_context={%22url%22%3A%22\%2Fsearch\%2Fcategory\%2FScience-pre--1499\%2F1433%22%2C%22num_results%22%3A%22209%22%2C%22search_type%22%3A%22category_assets%22%2C%22category_id%22%3A%221433%22%2C%22item_index%22%3A4}
One might question whether this English manuscript would have been known outside of England, and even there by many people. But Elias Ashmole reproduced it as an engraving in his Theatrum Chemicum Britannicum, 1652. You can see that version at http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6b/Thomas_Norton_-_Ordinall_of_Alchemy-fig3.jpeg. Certainly after 1652 it was widely familiar. Anyone seeing it who also knew the tarot Magician would surely associate the two traditions as expressed in that card.

The other image that O’Neill refers to is Figure 15 of Frabricius’s Alchemy. This, Fabricius tells us, is from Basil Valentine: Revelation des mysteres des teintures essentielles des sept metau, Paris, 1668.
 
Again, it is too late to have influenced the tarot. But it could have influenced people’s thinking about the tarot Magician.

Another argument that O’Neill makes is that the tarot Magician is associated with the planet and god Mercury, and that is also the name of “the Artifex, the alchemist.” The problem is that there is no early evidence that the tarot Magician was associated with Mercury. Conjurors like the tarot Bagatto appears on illuminations and engravings of the “Children of the Moon.” In alchemy the child of Luna is Mercury, as early as the Emerald Tablet. But that is alchemy, not tarot. In later lists of the trumps in France, from the 17th century, however, where we would expect "Bateleur" as trump one, we get "Mercury."

One possible explanation is that Jesus might have been associated with Mercury as the conveyer of souls to heaven or hell. Then if Jesus was thought of as a magician, at least one magician would be associated with Mercury. This would be a more positive interpretation of the figure on the card than is usually associated with that figure. I don’t have documentation of such an interpretation. But if we look at the first known Magician card, we see that he puts his hand over something covered with a cloth. This suggests to me the Eucharist. In a later card, c. 1650, we see that the phallus that was depicted on the Fool card is now on the Bateleur's hand in plce of a wand.
  It is perhaps the magic substance snatched from the gods by the animal. During the Renaissance people were fascinated by Roman sarcophagi depicting Dionysian scenes, such as the one in the middle above. From classical authors such as Clement of Alexandria they read that phallic images were carried in chests to be displayed at the proper moment. The cloth of the Eucharist was presented as a worthier substitute for such chests.

Sometimes it is alleged that the finger on the Noblet Bateleur is merely the bottom half of a wand that has broken off. So I give you the similar image of the King of Batons from a 16th century printed deck. Batons was at that time a suit associated with the fertility of the earth. All the court figures of that suit in the deck for the Sforsas, c. 1455, were shown with green sleeves or gloves, for example. In the Noblet, the club on the Ace of Batons was colored green.
From the angle of the finger on the Noblet, we are directed to the purse, which takes the place of the covering on the earlier card. There is an object similar to the finger poking out of the purse. Again, we have the magic phallus. The purse is a survival of the ancient chest of the Dionysian rites.

Such phalli were in fact used as fertility charms in Renaissance Europe. At right  is one from a garbage dump of Bosch's home town of 'Shertengebosch, in Flanders. Another is depicted in a woodcut image of the Greek god Pripapus in the 1647 edition of Cartari's Images of the Gods of the Ancients.

THE ALCHEMICAL MAGICIAN AS MERCURY

However I think a case can be made that even in the 15th century, anyone who had heard of alchemy—most everyone, then—would almost automatically associate the person on the Bagatto card with the alchemical Magus. And it is through the association with alchemy that the Magician card might have gotten associated with the god Mercury..

For one thing, there was the “Artixan” card in the “Tarot of Mantegna, ” c. 1465-1470. It is similar to depictions of goldsmiths as O’Neill points out on the tarot.com website (http://www.tarot.com/about-tarot/library/boneill/bagatto). Goldsmiths and other metalworkers, were considered Children of Mercury and depicted as such in “Children of the Planets” series, such as this detail from c. 1465-1475 Florence, sometimes attributed to Baldini
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Alchemists, of course, also were workers in gold: they were trying to produce it, or produce something even better, the elixir, from it. It is

ALCHEMY AND MAGIC

For another thing, alchemy was widely regarded as a species of magic or conjuring, which might or might not mean the intentional creation of deceptive illusions. The only difference between alchemists and street conjurors was that the alchemist didn’t go around doing tricks at fairs. He did his privately, or at various courts. He also had a more impressive set of props, with his furnaces, flasks, and substances that transformed themselves before one’s eyes.

So while the two traditions likely don’t depend on each other for their images of the Bagatto/Bateleur vs. the Alchemist, it seems to me that anyone who had heard of alchemy would associate the tarot Magician card with the alchemist.

For those who knew more about alchemy than the average person, there would have been another level to the association. The alchemist was said to be an imitator of nature, as one who tried to duplicate the development of metals as they evolved in nature. It was theorized that they grew in the bowels of the earth like plants, and that the heavier metals like silver and gold were more mature members of the species (or genus?). In a sense, he was duplicating the work of God as Platonic demiurge.

A few alchemists were even said to have succeeded in creating artificial intelligence. In the 15th century some alchemists wrote about the creation of the homunculus, a small magical humanoid who knew the future and could do whatever one asked of it. The artist of the Florentine sketch-book included a sketch of an alchemist holding his homunculus, to the fascination and horror of an onlooker. Here is a detail, showing the magus and his creation, from Plate 51, titled "Mercurio Re Degitto," Mercury (i.e. Hermes Trismegistus) King of Egypt. Besides this drawing, there is a similar engraving, attributed to Baldini, c. 1465-75.
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Likewise the tarot Magician might have been a version of the card-player or card-interpreter himself, whose combinations of cards might have been seen in terms of God’s combinations of the five elements, put together so as to create particular things. Like God or the alchemist’s homunculus, the card-reader would then have a magical ability to win at games of chance, have access to knowledge about the future, and perhaps even have the ability to change the future. For more on the homunculus, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homunculus. For a late medieval Jewish alchemical source, see http://books.google.com/books?id=LorvA_5Ex_UC&pg=PA307&lpg=PA307&dq=patai+jewish+homunculus&source=bl&ots=Cy_JBqUh4_&sig=3YntCiysFxh6ZpJYPJVTQrOOf-4&hl=en&ei=lSo7Tb-CCoK6sQPD3dXRAw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBMQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false.
 
An example of a tarot card very close to this image is Etteilla's Magician card in its second version, c. 1840. I reproduce that one, at right, along with the original, at left.
My conclusion is that for people who knew even common hearsay about alchemy, and also knew the Magician card of the tarot, the alchemist and the Bagatto would have been combined in their minds, so that aspects of one would be thought of in terms of the other, quite naturally.

Popess, Empress, Emperor, Pope

2. The Alchemical Popess: the female adept, Maris Prophetess, initiator, guide, and Juno, Queen over the metals.
.Here are a few examples of the Popess, first from the PMB (Pierpont Morgan-Bergamo) deck, done for the Sforza of Milan in the 1450s or early 1460s; then the Geoffrey,  Lyon 1558, and finally the Noblet of c. 1650 Paris. Typical features are the three-tired tiara, similar to the Pope's, and the book she holds. Geoffrey has her holding a key; the Pope holds a similar key.
I compared the alchemist to the Bateleur/Magician. In alchemical texts there is sometimes as well a female figure in the laboratory with him, called the soror mystica. O'Neill in Tarot Symbolism (p. 276) compares her to the tarot PopessO'Neill says that her role would have been to read from the old alchemical books while the alchemist conducted his experiments. That is prompted by the book that we see in the Popess's hands. But when we look at early alchemical imagery, we see more than that. Sometimes she is an equal participant in alchemical experiments, as in the Mutus Liber of 1677.
 In the 16th century manuscript Alchemia, she has a key, as in the Geoffrey; that could represent a book, but it could also mark her out as someone who holds secrets and is a guide through locked doors. There is a similar masculine figure, who may or may not be the alchemist. It might be a masculine guide of the same mystical quality as the soror.
In alchemical works we also see among famous alchemical adepts of the past female figures, not many, but some. Probably the most famous was Maria Prophetess, said to be the sister of Moses, also known as Miriam. She is said to have invented the double boiler, as a method of heating substances gently without boiling or burning them. Even today in France a double boilers is called a Bain Marie, Bath of Mary. The image below is from Michael Maier's Symbolae aurae mensae of 1617.
Another feminine figure corresponding to the Popess can be seen in the manuscript known as Apostolica Vaticana, Cod. Pal. Lat. 1066. Hans Liebeschutz, who did the definitive work on this text, dated it to c. 1420. I gave one illumination from this work in connection with the Fool. Here is the illustration (on f. 227r of the manuscript). (1)

The accompanying text gives no clue as to what this lady is doing here with her pots. You will notice that
she and the man stand in front of a group of pots containing different ingredients, rather like the Bateleur/ alchemist at his table. The man is stabbing a creature with many eyes; that identifies him as Mercury slaying Argus. Argus was guarding the nymph Io for Juno, and Jupiter lusted after her. So he told Mercury to kill Argus. Mercury did the deed by lulling Argus to sleep with music, when he closed all 100 of his eyes. De Rola relates it to alchemy, saying "It was Argus’ eyes that went to decorate the peacock’s tail." The "peacock's tail" was an important stage in the alchemical work, when various colors appeared. (2)

De Rola does not mention that the text which this illumination purportedly illustrates is not alchemical, but rather a moralizing Christian account of the Greco-Roman gods, in the style of a similar account by Fulgentius, from the time when the Roman Empire was Christian. There is no mention of alchemy. For that reason the art historians do not consider it an alchemical manuscript. However its illustrations have important details not addressed in the text, which led de Rola to classify them as alchemical. The lady with the pots would seem to be one. Also, the alchemical interpretations of Greco-Roman myths that Conti gives in his Mythologies fit some of the pictures here, as we have already seen in connection with the Fool. Here is one thing Conti repeats about the alchemical interpretation of Juno (Conti's Mythologies, ed. DiMatteo p. 81).:

She [Juno] is the Queen of the gods because she controls, dissovles, joins, separates, and constrains the metals, which are named after the various gods.
When I look elsewhere in this manuscript 1066, moreover, I see another connection between the Popess and some of its female figures. Here I am again following a suggestion of O'Neill's, as he sees the corresponding image in alchemy as "the feminine side of spiritual power" (p. 76). A striking example is the first or second one in the book (on f. 218r), illustrating the fall of Phaeton. I reproduce the black and white reproduction provided by de Rola in Alchemy the Secret Art, 1973. (Here again I am in debt to O'Neill, without whose reference I would not have known about de Rola's book.)

At the bottom, the dead Phaeton is helped out of the river and laid into his tomb by a mysterious lady or perhaps two. These could be his sisters, who in the myth bewail his death. Fulgentius, the ancient text that the manuscript is commenting on, said:
His sisters are Arethusa and Lampethusa, who bemourn their brother’s destruction by fire with bejeweled and gleaming drops, and shed golden amber from their torn barks. (http://www.theoi.com/Text/FulgentiusMythologies1.html#16)
There is nothing here corresponding to the illustration. I have never seen a Phaeton helped out of the water like that and then helped into a tomb. It is reminiscent of both alchemical entombment and the tarot Judgment card. What is depicted corresponds well to the alchemical operations of heating to a gas, then condensing into a liquid, then letting sit in a sealed container. In mythology, the goddess Iris is sometimes described as helping people go to the land of the dead. In Virgil's Aeneid, she helps separate Dido's soul from her dead body so she can go to Tartarus. Iris was a servant of Juno's, hence could be seen as an aspect of Juno herself.

Similar women appear in later illustrations in the manuscript, all as though helping to initiate the male figure into a new phase of development. Here are the early examples.

In this example (on f. 222v), the goddess represented I would take to be Juno, with Neptune. De Rola says it is Iris, personification of the rainbow, but I don't see a rainbow. The chicken-like creatures on the left are the harpies, whom the text says served Neptune. But what is the lady doing? Surely she more than bringing the rain. In vat. palat. lat. 1066, there is a verse that goes with this picture. It is not part of the main text, but more like a caption.
Cornutus, opibus exutus, Arpiis adiutus, statura levatus et mole gravatus, canicie delbatus, sale coronatus, tridente sceptrizatus, Stigi maritatus.
My stab at a translation: "Horned, exuding riches, harpy-served, stature inclined and sickly grave, ...trident-sceptered, married to Styx."

I have never heard before that Styx (yes, she was a goddess) was married to Neptune. Wikipedia has her married to Pallas. The verse says, "sickly grave" and "married to Styx." Styx was the name of the river separating the underworld from its entrances. So both are references to death. The Harpies were birdlike deities that snatched food from the hungry as a form of torture (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harpy). Dante put them in Hell to torture the suicides; in that late way they might be associated with death, too.

The next time we see a ram-headed king, he is surrounded by black eagles, in alchemy signs of the nigredo or blackness (f. 224v).

According to de Rola, the eagles in the illustration signify repeated cycles of death and purification, as opposed to the bade of the Empire. He says:
Here again, the king is about to meet his doom... The eight eagles symbolize repeated sublimations. In his left hand the king holds the orb, which is a hieroglyph of the name of the subject, corresponding to the celestial sign of Aries. In this sense the death alluded to is a fixation of the volatile, whereby Water becomes Earth.
In sublimation, a substance boils out into the upper part of a flask, where it cools and condenses in solid form on the side, an apt image of death and rebirth. 

But how do we know that such a repeated alchemical process has anything to do with the illustration? The manuscript text merely says that he is Jupiter, surrounded by his birds, the eagles. The lady, sitting at the bottom with a goat, is not mentioned.

 Researching these eagles further, I came across an article called "Religious Symbolism in Medieval Islamic and Christian Alchemy," by Italo Ronca. It is an attempt to explicate a well known alchemical emblem that appeared as the frontispiece to editions of the works of the Arabic alchemist Ibn Umayl, known in the West as Senior, i.e. "the Elder."

According to Ronca, the picture represents the text's account of what the alchemist reported seeing in a temple known as the "Prison of Joseph." I will discuss the man in the picture later on, n the section on the Pope card. Right now, I am concerned with the eagles.The man holds a sacred tablet; it is also described in the text, identifying ten things that correspond to the nine eagles plus the earth. (3)

Ronca shows a similar illustration in the Aurora Consurgens of c. 1400. His is in black and white. Since the original was in color, I will reproduce that one, (Roob, Alchemy and Mysticism p. 362). One of the hieroglyphs in the book is the same; the other substitutes flasks for the sun and moon

In my own researches, I found another such illustration in the Dresden copy of the Heilege Dreifalatigheit, c. 1420. In both of these illustrations, there are nine eagles. (4)

According to Ronca, the eagles correspond to the Egyptian vulture goddess Neckh(e)bet. Let me add, so as to connect this discussion with the one in my section on the Empress, that the vulture is the mother-goddess; Isis's kite, which eats small live animals as well as carrion, is a near relative. (When it was known that Isis was a kite is another question; Plutarch, the main text about Isis in the Renaissance, says she changed into a sparrow). The vulture is a symbol of transformation, specifically of the resurrection of the dead; for it is the habit of vultures to eat carrion and transform it into their own living matter.

The nine eagles in the Arabic text--ten in the frontispiece, or eight in the c. 1420 manuscript--signify, Ronca says, "the cyclical operations of sublimation and distillation ending in fixation" (p. 107). It would seem that de Rola's interpretation of the c. 1420 illumination is justified.

It is not merely nine deaths and rebirths. Hopefully, there is progress.  The Theology of Arithmetic, a work whose thinking has many correspondences with the images for the number cards of the Sola-Busca tarot of c. 1491, says of the Ennedad, i.e. the number nine
They used to call it 'Hephaestus,' because the way up to it is, as it were, by smelting and evaporation. (p. 106)
Nine, of the 10 numbers dealt with in this work, is almost the highest. It is the ninth, perhaps also corresponding to the 9th of 10 heavens in the medieval cosmos.

Haephestus is of course the metal-worker of the gods, and a patron saint to alchemists. In relation to the numbers, Waterfield, the translator, speculates that
perhaps the image is supposed to suggest that "smelting" is the fusion of monads into the sequence of numbers, but the monad is not exhausted--some part of it "evaporates," in the sense that it can continue the sequence. (p. 106)
"Smelting and evaporating" is also the way of alchemy. Smelting there is the dissolution of solids into a liquid, followed by evaporation into sealed upper chambers and condensation as a solid again. It is now associated with the number 9.

Correspondingly, the Sola-Busca tarot deck, c. 1491, gives us another version of the scene with nine eagles, this time with nine discs. The deaths are now shown in a way that explicitly reflects the alchemical procedure (http://www.tarotpedia.com/wiki/Sola-Busca_gallery):. As we have seen in the Introduction, this is one of serveral cards in the Sola-Busca that appear to relate to alchemy,
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Further association to death is seen in a later illumination of the series in Ms. Vat. Pal. Lat. 1066 (f. 230r), a lady is seen in armor and bearing the shield of the Medusa; to gaze upon this shield meant that one would be turned to stone. The goddess with the Medusa shield is Athena, a name confirmed by the owl next to her, which is another of her attributes. It, too, meant death, but it also, in ad much as it is with the goddess of wisdom, suggests wisdom. The king looks fearful. It is another scene of death, or symbolic initiation.

I found a comparable image in a clearly alchemical work, the Dresden copy of the Buch der Heilegen Dreifaltigkeit , from the same era as our illustrations. I get this from http://www.handschriftencensus.de/14918. It was German, but a copy was owned by the father of the duchess of Mantua, a friend of Bianca Maria Visconti, as "Huck" on THF has pointed out to me (viewtopic.php?f=23&t=383&start=80#p9708). It shows a queen as the death-bringing serpent of the Garden of Eden. It also represents a stage of the work.

In the Marseille tarot, there is also a succession of female figures, in what could be initiatory roles. There is the lady holding the scales in the Justice card, the lady with the jars in Temperance, the hermaphroditic Devil, the lady on the Star card, and finally the lady on the World card. These figures appear on the cards from their earliest known examples. There is also the Lover card, which has an older lady standing next to a youthful male-female pair. When I get to that card, I will show you a similar illustration in Vat. Palat. Lat. 1066.

In Vat. Palat. Lat. 1066, the lady is variously associated in the text with Juno, Athena, Persephone, and Rhea. We saw her depiction as Rhea at the end of the discussion of the Fool card, where she sits next to her husband, who is castrated as a result of  her treachery in allowing Jupiter to grow to maturity. All of these goddesses could be considered as playing initiatory roles: Juno with Hercules, Athena with Odysseus, Rhea with Dionysus and her own husband. Persephone was one of the two goddesses (along with her mother Demeter) presiding at the Eleusinian Myteries. In Conti's alchemical interpretations, these would all seem to be reduced to Juno. If considered as different manifestation of the same female initiator, she becomes quite similar to the dominatrix of the Dionysian Mysteries and the succession of female images, starting with the Popess, in the Marseille tarot.

Since Ms. 1066 illustrates both the gods and an alchemical sequence somewhat like that of the tarot, it is starting to qualify as an important transitional document for the tarot. We will see that it contains numerous figures that eventually, more than the gods, entered into the tarot: the virtues, fortune, a charioteer, opened tombs, and a lady that appears at crucial intervals in the story.

References, Alchemical Popess
1. I have devoted one thread on the Tarot History Forum, Researcher's Study, to this manuscript, http://forum.tarothistory.com/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=655#p9742, where I go into much more detail. Hans Liebeschütz's study is Fulgentius Metaforalis: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Antiken Mythologie im Mittelalter, Leipzig 1926.
2. This and following images come from Stanislas Kosslowski de Rola's Alchemy: the Secret Art, 1973. The ones in color all come from de Rola. The ones later of Sapiencia is from Liebeschütz. Argus: de Rola, comments to his plate 60.

3.. Ronca's essay is pp. 95-116 of Western Esotericism and the Science of Religion, ed. by Antoine Faivre & Wouter J. Hanegraaff, 1995.
4. http://www.handschriftencensus.de/14918.

Otherwise in this section I have integrated my references into the text, as they are mostly to websites; that will making it easier for people reading this to interrupt their reading by clicking on the reference and then returning directly to the text.

3. The Alchemical Empress: Eve/Venus, the fertile one, Sulphur in Salt, Empress-to-be

Alchemically the imagery of  Empress and Emperor is usually put at the end of the sequence, symbolizing the end product of the alchemical process, as below, from a manuscript in Jung's collection published in his book Psychology and Alchemy.
 In the Rosarium imagery, the Empress at the end appears as a hermaphrodite. On the left is the 1550 woodcut. The image on the right is earlier, from the Heilege Dreifaltigkeit of the early 15th century.

 Near the beginning, what corresponds are the King and Queen, usually together. They are almost always shown wearing the ordinary crowns of kings or dukes, as opposed to the ones topped with a cross worn by emperors and empresses. They are usually shown with pictures of the sun and moon next to them. So they are Sol and Luna, Apollo and Diana. Many are 17th century or later. Earlier ones include those in the illuminated Splendor Solis Augsburg 1532-35, the woodcut Rosarium Philosophorum of Frankfurt 1550, the woodcut Artis aurifrae of Basel 1572, and the woodcut Pandora of Basel 1582. Below is Emblem 4 of the 1550 Rosarium.
Sometimes the Queen holds the stalk of a plant instead of a scepter (Philosophia Reformata 1622, 1st series, emblem 24, http://www.hermetik.ch/eidolon/bilder/druck/1622%20Mylius_Philosophia/pages/Mylius1622_24.htm); and sometimes an eagle (1st series, 7, http://www.hermetik.ch/eidolon/bilder/druck/1622%20Mylius_Philosophia/pages/Mylius1622_07.htm). The stalk of wheat connects her to Isis and Demeter. The eagle connects her to the Empress of the Holy Roman Empire. It is the royal bird.
With a few exceptions, the images are all variants on the Rosarium series, in which they are shown first clothed, then naked, then in coitus, then combined in one body in a watery tomb, which nonetheless undergoes a conceptio (emblem 7, http://www.labyrinthdesigners.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/rosarium_7.jpg); then it is raised on high in one body with wings, taken back to the tomb with the wings, and then raised on high again. I think all of these variations on the Rosarium apply more to the Lover card than to the Emperor and Empress, as the latter are shown by themselves.

That most of these illustrations derive from the Rosarium or are of the same era, suggests a 15th century origin or before, as that text existed in manuscript early in the century. The King and Queen as Sol and Luna or Sulphur and Mercury are—along with the dragon--among the earliest personifications in the alchemical literature.

Given that the alchemical imagery came first, could we say that the tarot Emperor and Empress derive from them? I do not know the answer. There is no necessity for them to have done so. The tarot antecedents are the manuscript and heraldic representations of actual or typical Holy Roman Emperors and Empresses. The alchemical illustrations derive from the same sources. But why say that one derives from the other?

I can think of only one argument in favor of saying that the tarot Empress and Emperor derive from the alchemical. Both sequences represent la transformative process by which one attains the immortal state. Both have royal personages near the beginning, with the imagery of secular authority. The tarot designers may have borrowed from the alchemical in choosing just these figures. It depends on what other figures then follow, and whether they have been borrowed as well.

But on the face of it, the two pairs have a different symbolic function. The tarot pair seem merely represent secular authority—authority in the material realm--worthy of honor, gratitude, respect and fear. The Empress is not Everywoman, or the feminine side of Everyman. The alchemical pair, I think, in part represent humanity in general in a state bound to materiality. The “Ripley Scrowle” of 1588 shows Sol and Luna in the typical bath of the Rosarium series, but also at the foot of the Tree of Knowledge. A female serpent-woman hangs from the upper branches of the tree.

The King and Queen, in the early stages of the Work, are simply Adam and Eve both as lords of the earth and its slaves. It is a condition from which the Work can help free them. It is like in the fairy tales, where the king is under enchantment as a frog, a fox, or a wild man. It is materiality that enchants us. There is something similar between the tarot story and the alchemical one, in that both have to do with the liberation of humanity from materiality. But the tarot Emperor and Empress are not the alchemical Adam and Eve.

In other respects, the tarot Empress, as symbolizing nature and motherly nurturing, has her alchemical counterpart in numerous illustrations. (And here we must forget about influence, except in the sense that the meaning of either, in the milieu in which they were both produced, affects that of the other.) One example is in Emblem XXXV of Maier's Atalanta Fugiens (image taken from Wikimedia Commons):

I will quote what Robert O'Neill says about the lady on the left (Tarot Symbolism p. 179):
Here the figure is seated, suckling her son, seated in a field of that which symbolizes her fertility. Thus, both the Tarot card and the alchemical emblemata infer that the Empress is Cybele or Demeter, the earth goddess, the goddess of wheat.
There is a clear reference to Ceres/Demeter in this emblem, and also a similarity to the tarot Empress, on whose fertility the stability of the realm depends. The motto that Maier attaches to this image explains what is happening on the other side of the emblem:
As Ceres made Triptolemus—and Thetis made Achilles—able to stay in the fire, so the Artist makes the Stone.
De Rola explains (Golden Game, p. 102) that Triptolemus is Ceres’ foster-son, and she puts him at night in the fire so as to make him immortal. Sea-goddess Thetis does the same with the body of Achilles after his death, putting him on the pyre on Leuke, the White Island.

This episode, putting a foster-son in the fire, has its parallel in the story of Isis as related by Plutarch. (Isis and Osiris sect. XVI at http://thriceholy.net/Texts/Isis.html). The queen whose son Isis was charged with nursing (met in Isis’s search for Osiris’s body) found her out, thought that Isis was killing her son, and he lost his chance. The alchemists, reflecting their time, showed the beneficial aspects of each in their emblems.. For example, here is the frontispiece to Balduinus’s Aurum superius & inferius aurae superioris & inferioris hermeticum, Amsterdam 1675:
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On the bottom left we see Ceres with her grain. Opposite her is Isis, holding a ship. She was the protector of sailors. Apuleius’s Roman-era Golden Ass famously included a procession to the sea by the devotees of Isis. Both goddesses are exemplars of the Empress's role in providing for her subjects' material well being. At the top of the Frontispiece are Neptune and Apollo. Neptune's assistance is required by the ships, and Apollo's by the crops.
Above are three Empress cards. First is the Cary Sheet Empress in the middle. Her virginal youth and freshness seem to me to reflect the new empress of the 1490s, Bianca Maria Sforza. With her are the Noblet, c. 1650, and Conver, c. 1760. What I notice on all these cards, as opposed to the Cary-Yale and PMB, is that the back of the chair looks like a pair of wings. This could be a reference to Isis, who was described as taking the form of a bird, a sparrow in Plutarch but in actuality, in Roman Egypt, a vulture or more specifically the small virtue known in English as a kite. I do not know whether this identification was known at the time or not; I can't find it in Plutarch or Diodorus. At very much the same time and place as the Cary Sheet is assumed to have been done, there is Leonardo's childhood memory, in his diary, of being attacked by a kite ("nibbio," notoriously once mistranslated as "vulture") in his crib; but whether the bird's relationship to Isis was known, I don't know. Freud's analysis of the memory as a maternal image, despite the mistranslation, may not be off the mark. The vulture clearly was seen as a maternal image during this time, and the kite is just a particular kind of small vulture, which eats small live animals as well as carrion.

One association between Isis and the vulture might have been as equal representations of nature. Isis was seen as a personification of nature. This line has been developed by Hadot in his The Veil of isis: An Essay on the History of the Idea of Nature (in Google books). First there was the famous statue supposedly of Isis at Sais reported by Plutarch (http://thriceholy.net/Texts/Isis.html, sect. IX), with the motto "“I am all that hath been, and is, and shall be; and my veil no mortal has hitherto raised.” There was also the Roman philosopher Macrobius:
Isis is the earth or beneath the sun. This is why the goddess's entire body bristles with a multitude of breasts placed close to one another [as in the case of Artemis of Ephesis], because all things are nourished by earth or by nature." Saturnalia I, 20, 18.)
Hadot says that this text was cited by Cartari in his Images of the Gods of the Ancients, 1556. Another popular source was Apuleius, who imagined Isis speaking to his hero, "I come to you, Lucius, I mother of all nature, mistress of all the elements." (Metamorphoses XI, 5).

Then in the Renaissance explications of hieroglyphs, nature is associated with the vulture. Leon Alberti says, in his treatise on architecture, "The Egyptians employed the following sign language: a god was represented by an eye, nature by a vulture...". His source was a text by the Roman general Ammianus. Then in 1499 the anonymous Hypnerotomachia (Strife of Love in a Dream) also implies that a vulture represented nature, in its translation of a "hieroglyphic" inscription that the protagonist Porphilo sees. It shows, for its second image, an altar with 'on its face, the images of an eye and a vulture" (Godwin translation, p. 41). The second phrase of the "translation" reads "...to the god of nature..." Below I have reproduced the first line of the hieroglyphs and put under it the first line of what the novel says is their translation into Latin. The first hieroglyph is translated as "from your labors"; the second is "god of nature" followed by "freely" and "sacrifice" (the urn). The word order, of course, follows that of ordinary Latin.

After that, Ripa's image of nature (Nova Iconologia, Padua 1611 edition, image 222) is of a naked woman holding a bird. It is on her left side, like the Empress's shield.

Ripa says, in the first English translation:
She is naked, to denote the Principle of Nature, that is active or Form, and passive or Matter. The turgid Breasts denote the Form, because it maintains created Things; the Vultur, a ravenous Fowl, the Matter; which being alter'd and moved by the Form, destroys all corruptible Bodies. (http://emblem.libraries.psu.edu/Ripa/Images/ripa056a.htm)
In such manner the vulture is associated with nature, and thence to Isis, Hadot hypothesizes, and I agree.Likewise the Emprss might be associated with nature, although in her destructive aspect, as devourer and transformer of flesh, she might better relate to the Popess as alchemical agent of the passage from life to death and back again.

In the pages of ms. vat. palat. at. 1066, there are personifications of Sapiencia, Latin for wisdom (f. 235v)., in a nurturing role.  Below we see a lady on the left holding a book. That is clearly to say that wisdom may be found in such places. In holding a book, she resembles the Popess. On the right side, a lady wearing a crown gives her breasts to two bearded men. She is again Wisdom, offering her nourishment to those who dedicate themselves to her.

This last illustration is clearly inspired by an image in the Splendor Solis, c. 1400,

The borrowing of this image tends to confirm the alchemical nature of the illuminations to ms. vat. lat. 1066. Here the goddess is Sapienca, or Sophia in Greek, the well-known "wisdom of God" of the Hebrew wisdom-literature, who in 2 says (Proverbs 8:22) "the Lord possessed me in the beginning of his ways."

These figures seem to be examples of the Empress in her role as spiritual nurturer, or again of the Popess as bestower of wisdom.
I could give more examples, equally ambiguous but I will stop here. Maternal, protective, nurturing female figures, often with crowns, and drawing on some of the same mythological traditions, are common in both alchemy and the historical tarot.

4. The alchemical Emperor: Adam/Mars, the potent one, Sulphur.
Above are three tarot emperors: the Cary-Yale is the oldest, second quarter of the 15th century; then the PMB, midcentury, and finally the Noblet, c. 1650. Unlike the PMB Empress, the emperor doesn't have any green. His domain is the mind rather than nature. Howeverthe Noblet is more ambiguous, since he is in nature  In all of these, the eagle is the dominant characteristic, the symbol of empire.

For the alchemical equivalent, I will go back to the c. 1420 manuscript Vat. Palat. 1066, which I cited earlier in connection with the Fool and the Batleur. Let us look at f. 224v, de Rola's plate 59. The illustration this time is purportedly of the god Jupiter, which for de Rola, and after him O'Neill, is an alchemical image.

O'Neill compares this image to the Emperor card:
...the King is shown in royal state, much as he appears in early hand-painted Tarots and is even surrounded by black eagles which frequently appear on the shield of the Emperor card.
On the Emperor card, of course, there is only one eagle, symbolizing the Empire. That there are eight eagles on the illustration says that viewed from the perspective of alchemy, this figure will die and be reborn eight times.

At the beginning, the figures that will become Emperor and Empress are primitive figures. They are Adam and Eve in the Garden, and their experience of authority is that of a figure that gives rules. They then find out that if you do what it tells you not to do, you will suffer for it. As a figure more powerful than the pre-initiated individual, then, the alchemical King and tarot Emperor might represent external temporal authority, which all subjects must obey. Similarly the Pope represents external spiritual authority, which all Christians are bound to obey. To internalize their authority is to be a good citizen and Christian, and to triumph like the Charioteer. Yet the charioteer is merely mortal; later in the tarot sequence comes Death, and after that more long-lasting representatives of authority: the Devil and the Angel of the Last Judgment, certainly, and also the Star, as the “morning star” symbolizing Christ in the second coming. To internalize the authority of that Star, for whom the Angel speaks, is to die and be reborn, and to go from King to alchemical King of Kings--who sometimes, in alchemy, wears the papal tiara.

What corresponds to the tarot Empress and Emperor in alchemy is mainly, however, the King and the Queen at the beginning of the work. The alchemical King and Queen, with their crowned heads, remain throughout the alchemical sequence, in new and sometimes strange forms (in particular, hermaphrodites), until perhaps at the end transforming to Emperor and Empress. What corresponds to the alchemical King and Queen later in the tarot sequence is shown clearly in the Marseille images. One place we see crowned heads is in the Death card, sticking up out of the ground. There are also the two figures on the Maison-Dieu card; those blobs next to their heads look a lot like crowns, perhaps Arabic or Egyptian ones. Their shape is brought out in Flornoy's restoration. And then, once the crowns have fallen off, there are the two figures on the Judgment card, on either side of the middle.

Acually, there are several sets of two figures without crowns, as though representing two people in process of transformation. There are the acolytes on the Pope card, the two women on the Lover card, the two horses on the Chariot card, the two imps in the Devil card, the two figures in the Sun carrd. We might also include the two sides of the scales on the Justice card and the two jugs in Temperance. Perhaps the alchemical King and Queen correspond to all these pairs, existing within the subject contemplating them. They appear first as powerful authority figures requiring obedience and respect, and later as the subject himself or herself in various roles, including ones not of this world.

So in this interpretation, the eagle on the shield would be a token of the purifying ups and downs yet to come in the soul of the sovereign personality, as he tries to maintain and extend his authority in a world larger than his.

There is one other alchemical association to the card that is worth mentioning, I think, and that is the significance of the crossed legs, in the Marseille versions. In Christian and Roman terms, we have seen, it meant the attitude of detachment necessary for good judgment. In alchemy, the crossed legs gives the figure a resemblance to the alchemical sign for Sulphur (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Sulfur_symbol_2.svg):

Sulphur is of course the basic masculine element of alchemy, associated with Sol in the unpurified state.It is very combustible, easily bursting into fire. The symbol is appropriate for the immature masuline ego.

5, The Alchemical Pope.: male adept, initiator, guide, masculine Mercury, Hermes Trismegistus/Imhotep, Jove.

Here are some tarot Pope cards, from the 15th to the 17th century: first the Sforza, c. 1455, the d'Este, c. 1475, then the Geoffrey, 1557, and finally the Noblet. The main thing they have in commonis the gesture of authority, either blessing or admonishing. There is also a conical hat which is often a three-tiered crown. 

 Like the Noblet but much earlier, c. 1460, is the so-called Charles VI Pope, from somewhere between Florence and Ferrara.

Another similar figure would be Hermes Trismegistus, whose headgear in 1476 was so like that of the Charles VI pope (below, repeating a combination shown earlier). In other words, it is the authoritative master of alchemy, who writes the books and inspires the one reading to persevere. The two acolytes on the Pope card then correspond to the admirers in the alchemical illustration, reduced to two; or they are the two admirers of Trismegistus below.

Also, in the earlier section on the Bateleur, I showed an alchemical illustration of the alchemist in his laboratory with two assistants below him, as in the Pope card. Here is the image again, from 1477 England.
 

Along these same lines, both the male alchemist and the soror (or female alchemist) are given keys in a 15th century illumination. I would expect the keys to be colored gold and silver, to match the sun and moon signs above them, and the Pope's gold and silver keys as well.

Those doing alchemical experiments had their own psychopomp in the laboratory, the elusive “Mercury of the philosophers,” who was no less severe than the Popes (starting with the antipope John XXII but continued after him) who issued bulls forbidding their work. This "Mercurius" demanded all the alchemists’ money to buy materials for his experiments. It subjected the alchemist to the danger of poisons and explosions. It was unrelenting in its demand for careful study of old texts and then meticulous observation and recording of experimental results.

Another way in which a pope-like figure appears in alchemy is as a figure from the past, a famous alchemist, who now appears to show us something. There are a couple of series of illustrations of this type, one with 12 such figures, another with hundreds. Here is one of the 12:
Similarly, popes from the past remind us of the ancient lineage and also of important teachings from them or their time.

In connection with Hermes Trismegistus, there is a relationship between alchemical imagery and ancient Egypt that surprised me when I saw it. One of the oldest European depictions was in the frontispieces of alchemical works attributed all or in part to "Senior" i.e. "the Elder," an alchemist known to the Arabs as Ibn Umayl. For the West, the one pictured was Hermes Trismegistus, the legendary sage of Egypt and founder of alchemy. He is the "Hermes" for whom the term "Hermetic" applies. Here is one way that the image appeared (from Mangetus, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, 1702, as reproduced in Jung's Psychology and Alchemy fig. 128, p. 249).
Image
I already discussed this picture in relation to the Popess and the Emperor. Now I want to focus on the man in the picture. Again my reference is "Religious Symbolism in Medieval Islamic and Christian Alchemy," by Italo Ronca (pp. 95-116 of Western Esotericism and the Science of Religion, ed. Antoine Faivre & Wouter J. Hanegraaff). Ronca referred the picture to  represents the text's account of what the alchemist reported seeing in a temple known as the "Prison of Joseph," a temple near Memphis identified by modern archeologists as that of the legendary physician and healer Imhotep, later deified by the Greeks as Aesclepius. Ronca also showed another illustration in the same manner, in the Aurora Consurgens of c. 1400.  One of the hieroglyphs in the book is the same; the other substitutes flasks for the sun and moon.
Image
Finally, we saw the Dresden copy of the Heilege Dreifalatigheit, c. 1420 (http://www.handschriftencensus.de/14918). In both of these illustrations, there are nine eagles. (2)
Image
Now look at the central figure in this picture, the wise man, theHermes Trismegistus of alchemy, or Imhotep as Ronca characterizes him. I thought it might be interesting to compare the image with actual statues from similar temples in ancient Egypt. Below, the Heilege Dreifaltigkeit image is on the far right, to images  from the Internet of Imhotep in the middle, then a picture I took myself at the San Antonio Museum of Art, identified only as a "scribe". I took it mainly because of the ears.. It seems to me that there is a clear resemblance, especialy with the ears sticking out and the faces of the two on the right. The hats are also similar..
Image
 In this instance itwould appear to be as De Gebelin said: an image from ancient Egypt is on our card, transmitted via the Arabs and a German alchemical manuscript, a copy of which was owned by the father of Barbara of Brandenburg, who as Marchesa of Mantua was a close personal friend of Bianca Maria Visconti (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John,_Marg ... g-Kulmbach).

For the Egyptians, as Ronca says, the image would have been Imhotep, architect of the first pyramid and legendary healer, identified by the Greeks with Aesclepius. In alchemy he is the wise old man in possession of the way to the elixir, i.e. eternal life.

In the 17th century, there was often an older, bearded figure with wings who stood by the alchemist as though directing him in his work. As spiritual guides, these figures correspond to the Pope card. They appear in Mylius’s Philosophia Reformata1622, 1st series, emblems 5, 11, 20, and 21 (at http://www.hermetik.ch/eidolon/bilder/druck/1622%20Mylius_Philosophia/pages/Mylius1622_48.htm).The example below is emblem 21 of the Mylius.

There are also
emblems 11, 12, 13, and 15 of Lambsprinck’s De lapide philosophica 1625 (http://www.rubaphilos.com/study.htm). The example below is emblem 11:
 
A quote from the accompanying poem will exemplify what is going on (http://www.sacred-texts.com/alc/hm1/hm113.htm)::
The Guide addresses the Son in these words:
Come hither! I will conduct thee everywhere,
To the summit of the loftiest mountain,
That thou mayest understand all wisdom,...
However the Pope on the tarot card was never given wings. That honor sometimes accrued to the Hermit. Below we see him on a sheet of printed cards probably from Bologna in the early 16th century. The model here is found in engravings of Petrarch's Triumphs, where he represents Time, which, as the saying goes, flies.
 Other cards with winged male figures are Cupid, the Devil, and the Angel of Judgment. There are also wings occasionally on the female figures representing the virtues of Temperance and Justice. Because of the lack of wings on the Pope, I am inclined to think that he is not intended as a personal guide, but has delegated that role to someone else. On the cards from Geoffrey on, he seems to be looking to our right, even when he has two acolytes below him. After that, the "Chosson" card added an arm reaching behind the two figures; the arm blends in with the acolyte's robe, but the hand is rather obvious.. 
The Conver of 1761 went one step further, turning another fold into a knife. That is easier to see if we put the Conver card next to a modern redaction by Camoin and Jodorowsky that highlights the knife.
The unseen figure, like the female spirit guide in the alchemical series, sems prepared to sacrifice one of the acolytes later on. You might think it would be for transgressions of discipline during the initiation; but actually, I think it is something else. The hand is of a priest, and the knife will be part of a reenactment of the death and transformation of Christ, something priests did every day in the Mass. But that is l;aer in the sequence.

Figures with the three-tiered tiara characteristic of the Pope occasionally appear in alchemy. An example is the in the Splendor Solis of 1532-1535. It says of the renewed king, emblem 7 of a series of 22:
He was crowned with three costly crowns, one of iron, another of silver, and the third of pure gold (Henderson and Sherwood, Transformation in the Psyche: The Symbolic Alchemy of the Splendor Solis, p. 73)
And here he is. I have omitted the borders of the illumination so as to focus on what is relevant here. See http://www.hermetics.org/solis/solis7.html.

Here the dying king in the background is shown miraculously revived in the foreground. The “morning star,” as the text calls it, shines in the heavens next to the sun. (This illumination, if it were in the tarot sequence, would be around the place of the Star card.) The iron crown probably represents temporal rulership, as iron is associated with Mars. The silver crown represents spiritual rulership, attained in the albedo or whitening stage of the work. The gold crown is what is attained at the end of the work, in which spirit has descended into a purified body. It is the spiritual rulership over material things, such as by transmutation of metals and of physical health via the elixir.

It seems to me likely that here alchemy was following the lead of the tarot in representing figures with the triple crown. (The triple crown itself, however, may have been older, if it was used to indicate the three realms of rulership possessed by Hermes Trismegistus. However I do not see it in alchemy prior to its use in the tarot card.)

Figures at the end of the alchemical sequence sometimes have two heads, one with a crown indicative of temporal rulership and the other one closer to a bishop's headgear, with a cross painted on it. O'Neill observes of such images (Tarot Symbolism p. 277):
In alchemical symbolism, it is difficult to separate the Emperor and the Pope. Together, they represent the material and spiritual aspects of the King.
One example he refers us to is the following, from Jung's Mysterium Coniunctionis, plate 6.

This figure probably appears at the end of the alchemical sequence. On the right below is another, from a 1678 work attributed to Edward Kelly.

Adam McLean, describing this picture, says (http://www.alchemywebsite.com/s_kelly.html)
Emblem 14. Jupiter sits on a throne holding out his staff or sceptre in his left hand. Upon his head he wears a triple crown. At his feet are small symbols of Sun and Moon while beside him stands the alchemist. Kneeling at his feet are Saturn, Sun and Mars on the left and Mercury, Venus and Luna or Moon on the right.
Giving this king a triple crown means , I think, that the goal, the "renewed king," is not simply spiritual, or simply a renewal of his temporal power, but a spiritual enfusion into matter. It is also not a combination of temporal and spiritual authority. The Renaissance Popes did have such double authority in central Italy, which continued until Napoleon. However the alchemists had in mind more of a magical authority over matter, in transmutation and healing, than merely combining the functions of temporal and spiritual ruler.

I will sum up this section. In 14th-15th century alchemy, figures comparable to the Pope appear early in the sequence, even as their frontispiece, as past masters, people who guide the alchemist through their books and inspire them to keep trying. In the 17th century we see winged versions as spirit-guides during the work. We also see the triple tiara signifying the result, the renewed king; its three levels represent temporal authority, spiritual authority, and authority over matter enfused with spirit.


But the Pope in the tarot sequence, given his position as number 5, is also spiritual authority in an insitutional hierarchy. He is defined by his position as the head administrator of the insittution in a particular time and place. It seems  likely—unless it is pure accident--that the designer of the alchemical illumination wanted to compare the alchemist to a priest or higher clergyman, putting both in company with their acolytes. To those familiar with the Devil card, the alchemist could also be compared to the Devil and his demons. However the alchemist is not only an institutional authority; he gets his authority from having gone through the process that the acolytes wish to go through. The Pope similarly is a someone who has been transformed by his spiritual life and is now introducng others to the opportunity to have their own spiritual experiences within the insittutional structure. In that way the alchemical adept and the Pope are comparable figures, shown in similar ways in apparently unrelated contexts, 1477 England and 1460s Italy.
 But whereas the comparable female figure in alchemy is a personal guide for the alchemist through the steps of his initiation, the comparable figure in alchemy is not the one with the books sitting at a table, but rather a winged figure more comparable to the Old Man in early tarot.