Part 3

A second work, of somewhat similar character, is entitled _Subtilitatum diversarumque creaturarum libri novem_. This is clearly a compilation, and numerous passages in it can be traced to such sources as Pliny, Walafrid Strabus, Marbod, Macer, the Physiologus, Isidore Hispalensis, Constantine the African, and the _Regimen Sanitatis Salerni_, only the last three of which exerted a traceable influence on the genuine works of our authoress. Nevertheless this _Liber subtilitatum_ was early printed as Hildegard’s work, along with a treatise attributed with as little justification to another woman writer, Trotula, one of the ladies of Salerno, whose name was also a household word in the Middle Ages, and was freely attached to medical writings with which she had little or nothing to do.[22] It is true that Hildegard’s contemporary biographer, the monk Theodoric, assures us that she had written _De natura hominis et elementorum, diversarumque creaturarum_,[23] but there is nothing to suggest that the _Liber subtilitatum_ is intended thereby.

The modern scholars Daremberg and Reuss have edited the _Liber subtilitatum_ as Hildegard’s composition,[24] and the work attracted the attention of Virchow,[25] but notwithstanding the authority of these names, the objections which apply to the genuineness of the _Causae et curae_ are also valid here:

(_a_) The _Liber subtilitatum_ is not included in the Wiesbaden Codex A.

(_b_) The phrase _De natura hominis et elementorum diversarumque creaturarum_, used by Theodoric as a description and by Reuss as a title,[26] would lead one to expect great emphasis on the nature of the elements and their entry into the human frame. Such emphasis is not, in fact, discoverable in the _Liber subtilitatum_, which, moreover, does not treat of human anatomy or physiology.

(_c_) On the other hand, the genuine _Liber divinorum operum simplicis hominis_ does lay stress on these points. This is possibly therefore the work to which Theodoric refers, and to it his description certainly applies well.

(_d_) As in the _Causae et curae_, there are linguistic difficulties that prevent us attributing the _Liber subtilitatum_ to Hildegard. Such, for instance, is the number of Germanisms as well as the marked difference from the style and method of her acknowledged work.

(_e_) There are statements in the _Liber subtilitatum_ that can scarcely be attributed to our authoress. Having largely explored the Rhine basin, and corresponding constantly with writers beyond the Alps, how could she possibly derive all rivers, Rhine and Danube, Meuse and Moselle, Nahe and Glan, from the same lake (of Constance) as does the author of the _Liber subtilitatum_?[27]

(_f_) Furthermore, although that spurious work has a chapter _De elementis_, it reveals none of Hildegard’s most peculiar and definite views as to their nature, origin, and fate,[28] nor does it refer to the sphericity of the earth, to the vascular system of man, to the humours and their relation to the winds and the elements, or to a dozen other points on which, as we shall see, Hildegard had views of her own.

Before leaving the subject of Hildegard’s apocryphal works, brief reference may be made to the _Speculum futurorum temporum,_ a spurious production to which her name is often attached. It exists in innumerable MSS., and has been frequently edited and translated. It is the work of Gebeno, prior of Eberbach, who wrote it in 1220, claiming that he extracted it from Hildegard’s writings. Another work erroneously attributed to Hildegard is entitled _Revelatio de fratribus quatuor mendicantium ordinum_, and is directed against the four mendicant orders--Franciscans, Dominicans, Carmelites, and Augustinians. It also has been printed, but is wholly spurious, and was probably composed towards the latter part of the thirteenth century.

V. SOURCES OF HILDEGARD’S SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE

In the works of Hildegard we are dealing with the products of a peculiarly original intellect, and her imaginative power and mystical tendency make an exhaustive search into the origin of her ideas by no means an easy task. With her theological standpoint, as such, we are not here concerned, and unfortunately she does not herself refer to any of her sources other than the Biblical books; to have cited profane writers would indeed have involved the abandonment of her claim that her knowledge was derived by immediate inspiration from on high. Nevertheless it is possible to form some idea, on internal evidence, of the origin of many of her scientific conceptions.

The most striking point concerning the sources of Hildegard is negative. There is no German linguistic element distinguishable in her writings, and they show little or no trace of native German folk-lore.[29] It is true that Trithemius of Sponheim (1462-1516), who is often a very inaccurate chronicler, tells us that Hildegard ‘composed works in German as well as in Latin, although she had neither learned nor used the latter tongue except for simple psalmody’.[30] But with the testimony before us of the writings themselves and of her skilful use of Latin, the statement of Trithemius and even the hints of Hildegard[31] may be safely discounted and set down to the wish to magnify the element of inspiration.[32] So far from her having been illiterate, we shall show that the structure and details of her works betray a considerable degree of learning and much painstaking study of the works of others. Thus, for instance, she skilfully manipulates the Hippocratic doctrines of miasma and the humours, and elaborates a theory of the interrelation of the two which, though developed on a plan of her own, is yet clearly borrowed in its broad outline from such a writer as Isidore of Seville. Again, as we shall see, some of her ideas on anatomy seem to have been derived from Constantine the African, who belonged to the Benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino.[33]

Hildegard lived at rather too early a date to drink from the broad stream of new knowledge that was soon to flow into Europe through Paris from its reservoir in Moslem Spain. Such drops from that source as may have reached her must have trickled in either from the earlier Italian translators or from the Jews who had settled in the Upper Rhineland, for it is very unlikely that she was influenced by the earlier twelfth-century translations of Averroes, Avicenna, Avicebron, and Avempace, that passed into France from the Jews of Marseilles, Montpellier, and Andalusia.[34] Her intellectual field was thus far more patristic than would have been the case had her life-course been even a quarter of a century later.

Her science is primarily of the usual degenerate Greek type, disintegrated fragments of Aristotle and Galen coloured and altered by the customary mediaeval attempts to bring theory into line with scriptural phraseology, though a high degree of independence is obtained by the visionary form in which her views are set. She exhibits, like all mediaeval writers on science, the Aristotelian theory of the elements, but her statement of the doctrine is illuminated by flashes of her own thoughts and is coloured by suggestions from St. Augustine, Isidore Hispalensis, Bernard Sylvestris of Tours, and perhaps from writings attributed to Boethius.

The translator Gerard of Cremona (1114-87) was her contemporary, and his labours made available for western readers a number of scientific works which had previously circulated only among Arabic-speaking peoples.[35] Several of these works, notably Ptolemy’s _Almagest_, Messahalah’s _De Orbe_, and the Aristotelian _De Caelo et Mundo_, contain material on the form of the universe and on the nature of the elements, and some of them probably reached the Rhineland in time to be used by Hildegard. The _Almagest_, however, was not translated until 1175, and was thus inaccessible to Hildegard.[36] Moreover, as she never uses an Arabic medical term, it is reasonably certain that she did not consult Gerard’s translation of Avicenna, which is crowded with Arabisms.

On the other hand, the influence of the Salernitan school may be discerned in several of her scientific ideas. The _Regimen Sanitatis_ of Salerno, written about 1101, was rapidly diffused throughout Europe, and must have reached the Rhineland at least a generation before the _Liber Divinorum Operum_ was composed. This cycle of verses may well have reinforced some of her microcosmic ideas,[37] and suggested also her views on the generation of man,[38] on the effects of wind on health,[39] and on the influence of the stars.[40]

On the subject of the form of the earth Hildegard expressed herself definitely as a spherist,[41] a point of view more widely accepted in the earlier Middle Ages than is perhaps generally supposed. She considers in the usual mediaeval fashion that this globe is surrounded by celestial spheres that influence terrestrial events.[42] But while she claims that human affairs, and especially human diseases, are controlled, under God, by the heavenly cosmos, she yet commits herself to none of that more detailed astrological doctrine that was developing in her time, and came to efflorescence in the following centuries. In this respect she follows the earlier and somewhat more scientific spirit of such writers as Messahalah, rather than the wilder theories of her own age. The shortness and simplicity of Messahalah’s tract on the sphere made it very popular. It was probably one of the earliest to be translated into Latin; and its contents would account for the change which, as we shall see, came over Hildegard’s scientific views in her later years.

The general conception of the universe as a series of concentric elemental spheres had certainly penetrated to Western Europe centuries before Hildegard’s time. Nevertheless the prophetess presents it to her audience as a new and striking revelation. We may thus suppose that translations of Messahalah, or of whatever other work she drew upon for the purpose, did not reach the Upper Rhineland, or rather did not become accepted by the circles in which Hildegard moved, until about the decade 1141-50, during which she was occupied in the composition of her _Scivias_.

There is another cosmic theory, the advent of which to her country, or at least to her circle, can be approximately dated from her work. Hildegard exhibits in a pronounced but peculiar and original form the doctrine of the macrocosm and microcosm. Hardly distinguishable in the _Scivias_ (1141-50), it appears definitely in the _Liber Vitae Meritorum_ (1158-62),[43] in which work, however, it takes no very prominent place, and is largely overlaid and concealed by other lines of thought. But in the _Liber Divinorum Operum_ (1163-70) this belief is the main theme. The book is indeed an elaborate attempt to demonstrate a similarity and relationship between the nature of the Godhead, the constitution of the universe, and the structure of man, and it thus forms a valuable compendium of the science of the day viewed from the standpoint of this theory.

From whence did she derive the theory of macrocosm and microcosm? In outline its elements were easily accessible to her in Isidore’s _De Rerum Natura_ as well as in the Salernitan poems. But the work of Bernard Sylvestris of Tours, _De mundi universitate sive megacosmus et microcosmus_,[44] corresponds so closely both in form, in spirit, and sometimes even in phraseology, to the _Liber Divinorum Operum_ that it appears to us certain that Hildegard must have had access to it also. Bernard’s work can be dated between the years 1145-53 from his reference to the papacy of Eugenius III. This would correspond well with the appearance of his doctrines in the _Liber Vitae Meritorum_ (1158-62) and their full development in the _Liber Divinorum Operum_ (1163-70).

Another contemporary writer with whom Hildegard presents points of contact is Hugh of St. Victor (1095-1141).[45] In his writings the doctrine of the relation of macrocosm and microcosm is more veiled than with Bernard Sylvestris. Nevertheless, his symbolic universe is on the lines of Hildegard’s belief, and the plan of his _De arca Noe mystica_ presents many parallels both to the _Scivias_ and to the _Liber Divinorum Operum_. If these do not owe anything directly to Hugh, they are at least products of the same mystical movement as were his works.

We may also recall that at Hildegard’s date very complex cabalistic systems involving the doctrine of macrocosm and microcosm were being elaborated by the Jews, and that she lived in a district where Rabbinic mysticism specially flourished.[46] Benjamin of Tudela, who visited Bingen during Hildegard’s lifetime, tells us that he found there a congregation of his people. Since we know, moreover, that she was familiar with the Jews,[47] it is possible that she may have derived some of the very complex macrocosmic conceptions with which her last work is crowded from local Jewish students.

The Alsatian Herrade de Landsberg (died 1195), a contemporary of Hildegard, developed the microcosm theory along lines similar to those of our abbess, and it is probable that the theory, in the form in which these writers present it, reached the Upper Rhineland somewhere about the middle or latter half of the twelfth century.

Apart from the Biblical books, the work which made the deepest impression on Hildegard was probably Augustine’s _De Civitate Dei_, which seems to form the background of a large part of the _Scivias_. The books of Ezekiel and of Daniel, the Gospel of Nicodemus, the Shepherd of Hermas, and the Apocalypse, all contain a lurid type of vision which her own spiritual experiences would enable her to utilize, and which fit in well with her microcosmic doctrines. Ideas on the harmony and disharmony of the elements she may have picked up from such works as the Wisdom of Solomon and the Pauline writings, though it is obvious that Isidore of Seville and the _Regimen Sanitatis Salerni_ were also drawn upon by her.

Her figure of the Church in the _Scivias_ reminds us irresistibly of Boethius’ vision of the gracious feminine form of Philosophy. Again, the visions of the punishments of Hell which Hildegard recounts in the _Liber Vitae Meritorum_[48] bear resemblance to the work of her contemporary Benedictine, the monk Alberic the younger of Monte Cassino, to whom Dante also became indebted.[49]

Hildegard repeatedly assures us that most of her knowledge was revealed to her in waking visions. Some of these we shall seek to show had a pathological basis, probably of a migrainous character, and she was a sufferer from a condition that would nowadays probably be classified as hystero-epilepsy. Too much stress, however, can easily be laid on the ecstatic presentment of her scientific views. Visions, it must be remembered, were ‘the fashion’ at the period, and were a common literary device. Her contemporary Benedictine sister, Elizabeth of Schönau, as well as numerous successors, as for example Gertrude of Robersdorf, adopted the same mechanism. The use of the vision for this purpose remained popular for centuries, and we may say of these writers, as Ampère says of Dante, that ‘the visions gave not the genius nor the poetic inspiration, but the form merely in which they were realized’.

The contemporaries of Hildegard who provide the closest analogy to her are Elizabeth of Schönau (died 1165), whose visions are recounted in her life by Eckbertus;[50] and Herrade de Landsberg, Abbess of Hohenburg in Alsace, the priceless MS. of whose _Hortus Deliciarum_ was destroyed by the Germans in the siege of Strasbourg in 1870.[51] With Elizabeth of Schönau, who lived in her neighbourhood, Hildegard was in frequent correspondence. With Herrade she had, so far as is known, no direct communication; but the two were contemporary, lived not very far apart, and under similar political and cultural conditions. Elizabeth’s visions present some striking analogies to those of Hildegard, while the figures of Herrade, of which copies have fortunately survived, often suggest the illustrations of the Wiesbaden or of the Lucca MSS.

VI. THE STRUCTURE OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE

To the student of the history of science, Hildegard’s beliefs as to the nature and structure of the universe are among the most interesting that she has to impart. Her earlier theories are in some respects unique among mediaeval writers, and we possess in the Wiesbaden Codex B a diagram enabling us to interpret her views with a definiteness and certainty that would otherwise be impossible.

Hildegard’s universe is geocentric, and consists of a spherical earth,[52] around which are arranged a number of concentric shells or zones. The inner zones are spherical, the outer oval, and the outermost of all egg-shaped, with one end prolonged and more pointed than the other (Fig. 2). The concentric structure is a commonplace of mediaeval science, and is encountered, for instance, in the works of Bede, Isidore, Alexander of Neckam, Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus, and Dante. To all these writers, however, the universe is spherical. The egg-shape is peculiar to Hildegard. Many of the _Mappaemundi_ of the Beatus and other types exhibit the _surface_ of the habitable earth itself as oval, and it was from such charts that Hildegard probably gained her conception of an oval universe. In her method of orientation also she follows these maps, placing the east at the top of the page where we are accustomed to place the north.[53]

It is unfortunate that she does not deal with geography in the restricted sense, and so we are not in full possession of her views on the antipodes, a subject of frequent derision to patristic and of misconception to scholastic writers. She does, however, vaguely refer to the inversion of seasons and climates in the opposite hemisphere,[54] though she confuses the issue by the adoption of a theory widespread in the Middle Ages and reproduced in the _Divina Commedia_, that the antipodean surface of the earth is uninhabitable, since it is either beneath the ocean or in the mouth of the Dragon[55] (Plate XI, cp. Fig. 4). The nature of the antipodean inversion of climates was clearly grasped by her contemporary, Herrade de Landsberg (Fig. 5).

Hildegard’s views as to the internal structure of the terrestrial sphere are also somewhat difficult to follow. Her obscure and confused doctrine of Purgatory and Hell has puzzled other writers besides ourselves,[56] nor need we consider it here, but she held that the interior of the earth contained two vast spaces shaped like truncated cones, where punishment was meted out and whence many evil things had issue.[57] Her whole scheme presents analogies as well as contrasts to that of her kindred spirit Dante.[58] Hildegard, however, who died before the thirteenth century had dawned, presents us with a scheme far less definite and elaborated than that of her great successor, who had all the stores of the golden age of scholasticism on which to draw.

In Hildegard’s first diagram of the universe, which is of the nature of an ‘optical section’, the world, the _sphaera elementorum_ of Johannes Sacro Bosco and other mediaeval writers, is diagrammatically represented as compounded of earth, air, fire, and water confusedly mixed in what her younger contemporary, Alexander of Neckam (1157-1217), calls ‘a certain concordant discord of the elements’. In the illustrations to the Wiesbaden Codex B the four elements have each a conventional method of representation, which appears again and again in the different miniatures (Fig. 2 and Plates XII and XIII).

Around this world with its four elements is spread the atmosphere, the _aer lucidus_ or _alba pellis_, diagrammatically represented, like the earth which it enwraps, as circular. Through this _alba pellis_ no creature of earth can penetrate. Beyond are ranged in order four further shells or zones. Each zone contains one of the cardinal winds, and each cardinal wind is accompanied by two accessory winds, represented in the traditional fashion by the breath of supernatural beings.

Of the four outer zones the first is the _aer aquosus_, also round, from which blows the east wind. In the outer part of the _aer aquosus_ float the clouds, and according as they contract or expand or are blown aside, the heavenly bodies above are revealed or concealed.

Enwrapping the _aer aquosus_ is the _purus aether_, the widest of all the zones. The long axis of this, as of the remaining outer shells, is in the direction from east to west, thus determining the path of movement of the heavenly bodies. Scattered through the _purus aether_ are the constellations of the fixed stars, and arranged along the long axis are the moon and the two inner planets. From this zone blows the west wind. The position and constitution of this _purus aether_ is evidently the result of some misinterpretation of Aristotelian writings.

The next zone, the _umbrosa pellis_ or _ignis niger_, is a narrow dark shell, whence proceed the more dramatic meteorological events. Here, following on the hints of the Wisdom of Solomon (chap. v) and the Book of Job (chap. xxxviii), are situated the diagrammatically portrayed treasuries of lightning and of hail. From here the tempestuous north wind bursts forth. This _ignis niger_ is clearly comparable to the _dry earthy exhalation_ that works of the Peripatetic school regard as given off by the outer fiery zone. The presence of the _ignis niger_ thus suggests some contact on the part of the authoress with the teaching of the _Meteorologica_ of Aristotle.[59]

The outermost layer of all is a mass of flames, the _lucidus ignis_. Here are the sun and the three outer planets, and from here the south wind pours its scorching breath (Fig. 2).

The movements of the four outer zones around each other, carrying the heavenly bodies with them, are attributed to the winds in each zone. The seasonal variations in the movements of the heavenly bodies, along with the recurring seasons themselves, are also determined by the prevalent winds, which, acting as the motive power upon the various zones, form a celestial parallelogram of forces. In this way is ingeniously explained also why in spring the days lengthen and in autumn they shorten until in either case an equinox is reached (Fig. 2).

‘I looked and behold the east and the south wind with their collaterals, moving the firmament by the power of their breath, caused it to revolve over the earth from east to west; and in the same way the west and north winds and their collaterals, receiving the impulse and projecting their blast, thrust it back again from west to east....

‘I saw also that as the days began to lengthen, the south wind and his collaterals gradually raised the firmament in the southern zone upwards towards the north, until the days ceased to grow longer. Then when the days began to shorten, the north wind with his collaterals, shrinking from the brightness of the sun, drove the firmament back gradually southward until by reason of the lengthening days the south wind began yet again to raise it up’[60] (Plates VII and VIII).