Alchemy has a very long history.
First believed to have been practiced in Ancient Persia, the ancient dream of endless wealth and immortality has enticed practitioners for thousands of years. While attempts to transmute lead into gold or create the elixir of life have always ended in failure, the lure was enough to entice famous scientists such as Roger Bacon, Tycho Brahe and Isaac Newton to give it a try. Still, by the 18th century, there was enough skepticism for alchemy to be dismissed as a fantasy by the scientific community.
Which brings us to James Price...
Born in 1752, his original name was actually Higginbotham but he changed it to Price when a wealthy relative left him a legacy. After distinguishing himself at Oxford by earning various degrees, he became a member of the Royal Society at the age of 29. Although Price seemed set for an eminent career in science, he began to concentrate a more unconventional line of research: transmuting base metals into precious metals (particularly turning mercury into gold). Which was a pity, since, as I've already mentioned, whatever respect alchemists claimed in previous centuries had long since evaporated by Price's time.
After telling a few of his friends that he had been successful in his strange research, Price became the subject of some fearful whispering among fellow chemists. It was this public skepticism that caused Price to begin a series of public demonstrations of his transmutation process. The process centered on a special "powder of production" that could transform mercury and other base metals into gold or silver "under special circumstances". He conducted seven public experiments beginning on on May 6, 1782 and ended on May 25th. With various peers, baronets, clergymen and chemists in attendance, Price mixed borax, nitre, mercury, and other assorted chemicals and produced small amounts of gold and silver that he later presented to King George III.
The initial reaction was certainly positive. Oxford University bestowed a Doctor of Medicine degree on Price and there was tremendous demand for the written account of his experiments. Anyone remembering the cold fusion debacle a few years back can appreciate the tremendous enthusiasm resulting from the news of Price's discovery. The notion of endless wealth being produced for England through alchemy was certainly intoxicating (setting aside the fact that gold was mainly valuable because it was scarce). Since James Price was a respected and wealthy scientist who came from a distinguished family, the possibility that he might have faked his results seemed unthinkable.
Unfortunately for Price, the Royal Society remained skeptical.They insisted that Price repeat his experiments under controlled conditions to rule out the possibility of error. Price's hesitation made them even more suspicious. He attempted to downplay his earlier success and insisted that his powder of production was too expensive to make in large quantities. He added that the process of creating gold wasn't as cost-effective as he had previously assumed and that the cost of ingredients was greater than the cost of the gold produced. While his experiments were of scientific value, Price insisted that there would be no point in repeating them.
The president of the Royal Society, Joseph Banks, flatly told Price that his scientific reputation was at stake as well as the reputation of the Royal Society itself. Price, in return, began to insist that he was the victim of persecution and that his reputation should rule out any thought of deceit. By then, even Price's friends had become distressed by his refusal and finally persuaded him to produce more of his powder of production for the Royal Society to examine. He left London in January, 1783 and returned to his Guildford laboratory. Although he had promised to return in a month, nothing more was heard from him for six months when he finally returned to London. Inviting as many members of the Royal Society as he could to his Guildford laboratory, he arranged for a demonstration on August 3rd of that same year.
Price's reputation had already been damaged by his long delay and even most of his friends had deserted him by the time of his demonstration. That only three members of the Royal Society showed up on August 3rd probably told Price all he needed to know. After greeting his guests cordially, he stepped away from them and drank a vial of what would later turn out to be laurel water. When he began to collapse, his visitors tried to help him but it was too late. Before they could arrange for medical attention, James Price was dead.
An investigation would later find that Price had recently written his last will and testament and wrapped up his affairs before calling for the demonstration. Despite intense speculation over why Price had staked his professional reputation (and his life) on his strange fixation with alchemy, no real explanation was ever found. It's probably likely that he had deceived himself into believing that he was successful and, little by little, resorted to deception to avoid disgrace. Suicide may have been the only solution for the mess that he had created for himself.
James Price's suicide marked the end of alchemy in the United Kingdom (though it lingered on in other parts of the world). His sad fate represents an object lesson in how easy it is to be seduced by the prospect of fame and fortune as well as how hard it is to admit that you're wrong. Too many other would-be discoverers have learned this the hard way.