The Alchemist Who Broke China's Porcelain Monopoly
Johann Friedrich Böttger made the terrible mistake of promising a king that he could turn base metals into gold. When life hands you lemons, make... fine china?
There are many rules to consider when living under a monarch in Early Modern Europe: don’t publicly protest the king’s authority, stick to whatever flavor of Christianity suits him, and don’t make promises to your sovereign that you cannot keep.
Johann Friedrich Böttger was in a mountain of trouble.
It’s possible that he may have implied to the Elector of Saxony that he knew how to transform base metals into gold. It was also very possible that this was a flat-out lie. After attempting to flee, Böttger was placed under “protective custody” by Augustus II, King of Poland and Elector of Saxony. Augustus the Strong, he was called.
More like Augustus the Spendthrift. Augustus was a committed patron of the arts, and during his reign, he worked to transform Dresden into a stunning cultural center. He also had a habit of fathering dozens of illegitimate children, and he loved to spend lavishly on Chinese porcelain. In short, he needed money.
If this young alchemist could only make good on his promise, Augustus would have an infinite supply of gold to fund his porcelain addiction, or what he called his maladie de porcelaine.
Porcelain was so valuable that it was often referred to as “white gold.” The earliest experiments with porcelain began during the Shang dynasty (1600-1046 BC). Over the centuries, the Chinese refined the process, such that by the 600s AD, they could make the fine, white porcelain that remains beloved to this day.
But it wouldn’t be until the Renaissance period that porcelain began streaming into Europe in greater quantities, thanks to the development of trade routes with the East via the Silk Road. European elites scrambled to get their hands on what was, without a doubt, the finest pottery on the market. One could sip tea in a cup dainty and delicate enough to elevate the afternoon ritual that was growing increasingly popular throughout the continent, yet at the same time, the porcelain insulated the tea. Compare this to a silver goblet, with which one would surely burn their hands.
Porcelain could be used to make a variety of decorative pieces: vases, tableware, figurines. The Chinese adorned their porcelain with motifs of trees and flowers, or scenes of warriors, dragons, monks, ladies, and more. This exquisite craftsmanship ignited the imaginations of Europeans—at least, those who could afford such far-flung treasures. By the Early Modern era, the secrets of porcelain production had spread to Japan and Korea. These artisans were careful to guard their secrets from Western traders, lest their monopoly collapse.
Traders from the West could only purchase Asian porcelain with gold or silver, which fueled Augustus the Strong’s desire to see his own alchemist produce gold. In 1702, Böttger was merely twenty years old. Whether it was youthful bravado or mad scientist-levels of crazy, Böttger insisted that he would be the man to solve one of alchemy’s greatest mysteries.
A year passed. No formula.
Another year passed. Augustus was growing impatient. In 1704, after Böttger botched his latest escape plan to Vienna, Augustus decided to place the young alchemist under the watchful eye of Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus, the Electoral Mathematician and Physicist. Von Tschirnhaus saw Böttger’s potential, and he swiftly enlisted him in assisting with his experiments. He revealed to Böttger that with the help of mining officer Gottfried Pabst von Ohain and the miners of Freiberg, he was conducting a series of experiments to test how Saxon clays responded when fired. Who needed gold when they could make porcelain themselves?
Böttger was decidedly uninterested. His true mission was to find a formula for gold, and if his middle-aged mentor wanted to play with clay, that was his business.
Another year. Two. Three.
Perhaps it was out of desperation or greater wisdom (or both), but at twenty-five, Böttger began earnestly collaborating with von Tschirnhaus. Other alchemists were banished or executed for the kinds of claims he had made in his early twenties, and if von Tschirnhaus’s experiments succeeded, Böttger just might save his own neck.
By the autumn of 1707, Böttger and von Tschirnhaus knew that a clay mixture fired at extremely high temperatures could produce the hardness needed for porcelain. They even succeeded in making red clay versions, as the Chinese artisans had done centuries ago. But how to achieve that perfect white color?
This is where our story gets murky. The key to making porcelain is kaolin, a white clay made of kaolinite that lends porcelain its color. Accounts differ regarding who solved the mystery: was it Böttger or von Tschirnhaus? Did they discover the answer together? Shortly after this victory, von Tschirnhaus died of dysentery on October 11, 1708. It may not surprise you that Böttger claimed to be the person who found the formula for porcelain; sleazy or not, doing so saved his life.
By March of the following year, Augustus placed Böttger in charge of his porcelain factory in Meissen, which produces porcelain to this day. While it’s disputed whether or not Böttger was the first European to discover the formula for hard-paste porcelain (English chemists were independently working on a similar project at the time), Böttger was certainly the first to bring the product to market.
In doing so, he disrupted a centuries-old monopoly, launched a new era of porcelain design with Western artistic motifs, and quite possibly, saved Saxony’s finances.
