The book consists of a collection of terse bits of description, of sensible advice, and of old-world superstitions. It is so arranged that a description is given first of plants (230 in number), and then of elements (14), trees (60), stones (26), fishes (37), birds (72), animals (43), and lastly of metals (8). The German term for each object is given and its health-giving or obnoxious properties are mentioned. Thus the description of the mulberry tree is followed by the information that a decoction of its leaves forms an efficacious remedy in cases of skin disease, and after the description of prunes comes the information that they are good for a dry cough. When treating of the pig Hildegard states that pork is indigestible and should be avoided in cases of sickness. While some descriptions are excellent and obviously based on direct observation, as for example that of the properties of soda, others are entirely fabulous, such as that of the unicorn. We get the savour of primitive leechcraft in the statements that carrying about a dead frog is good for the gout, that drinking water out of a cypress bowl rids one of devils and fantasies, and that eating raven’s flesh should be avoided since it encourages thieving propensities. In regard to diagnosis of disease Hildegard’s ideas are necessarily vague. The illnesses referred to are chiefly indigestion, fevers, coughs, delusions and leprosy. Several kinds of leprosy are distinguished, and the chief remedies prescribed are baths in decoctions of leaves and other less savoury preparations.
In the light of information such as is contained in this book, the wonderful cures which Hildegard and many other early saints are said to have effected take a new meaning. It is generally allowed that the fame of monasteries as curative centres is founded on a basis of fact which consists in their healthy situation, abundance of pure water, and regular diet. But evidently there is more than this. When we look through the ‘Physica,’ compiled under Hildegard’s direction if not directly by her, we feel that, if we could only see behind the veil of the miraculous through which all religious writers persist in looking at the alleviation of physical and mental suffering, we should be brought face to face with much judicious treatment and with the application of a considerable amount of medicinal knowledge.
During the early part of her stay on the Rupertsberg Hildegard also wrote a book of Latin texts for hymns (before 1153) which are accompanied by musical notation[706],—certain ‘Expositions of the Gospels’ (before 1157) for the use of her nuns, which have not been printed[707],—an explanation ‘of the rule of St Benedict[708],’—and another ‘of the symbol of St Athanasius[709].’ In the opening sentences of this last work she describes the difficulties she had to contend with in founding the nunnery, and admonishes the nuns to guard against division and discord when she is no more. Another work entitled ‘Vitae meritorum,’ consisting of moral admonitions, was written between 1158 and 1162, but has not been printed[710]. A series of questions was forwarded to her by Guibert of Gembloux and was the occasion of a lengthy reply, sent to him in the form of a letter[711]. Hildegard also either invented or perpetuated in writing a glossary of words of a secret language, each term accompanied by its equivalent in Latin or in German, sometimes in both. Scholars look upon this work as containing words invented by members of the convent to be used in the presence of strangers for the purpose of secret communication[712].
These writings give proof of Hildegard’s active interest in her convent, though at the same time she remained keenly alive to events outside. The choice of Friedrich Barbarossa (1152-1190) as successor to Konrad proved favourable in many respects to German lands, but the position of the Papacy was further jeopardised when Friedrich fell out with Pope Hadrian (1154-59). After the death of this Pope Friedrich did not support his legitimate successor Alexander III (1159-81), but the successive Antipopes, Victor IV († 1164), Paschalis III († 1168) and Calixtus III (resigned 1178). The cities of northern Italy tried to secure autonomy, and plotted against the Emperor. Again and again their rebellion obliged him to cross the Alps and devote himself to their subjection, while several of his powerful German prelates at home, by no means convinced of the rightfulness of his cause, sided with Pope Alexander, some secretly, some openly, against the Antipope and the Emperor. Hildegard joined this party and charged the Emperor with being partly responsible for the continued schism and for the diminished authority of the Church. With these views she wrote a letter full of adulation to Eberhard, archbishop of Salzburg (1147-1164), who adhered to Alexander[713], and sent dark forebodings of impending disaster to Arnold, archbishop of Mainz (1153-1160[714]). It would lead too far to dwell upon the numerous letters written during these years by the abbess who, believing herself to possess a miraculous insight into things, wrote sometimes in a threatening, sometimes in an admonitory, and sometimes in an encouraging strain. The outside world generally, including many clever and cultivated men, held her to be divinely enlightened. Arnold II, archbishop of Cöln (1151-1156), wrote to entreat her to send him her writings whatever their state[715]. The abbot of Elwangen wrote saying that she could ‘speak of the present, uncover the past, and foresee the future[716],’ and the provost and clergy of Trier wrote to consult her in their trouble, and declared her ‘filled by the Holy Ghost and acquainted with things which are hidden from mankind generally[717].’
Many powerful prelates, abbots and abbesses sought confirmation of their views or advice in tribulation from the learned abbess. Her fame spread beyond the confines of Germany, for we find the patriarch of Jerusalem addressing a letter to her, in which he said that he was living in sad straits and begged for her prayers, and Hildegard, evidently influenced by his exalted position, urging him to remain steadfast and assuring him that while his faith is firm he need not despair[718].
Among the letters which refer to convent matters we note one addressed to Heinrich, the archbishop of Mainz. In early days he had supported Hildegard, but at a later date he advocated against her wish the promotion of one of her nuns to the post of abbess in another convent, thus drawing on himself Hildegard’s scorn and anger. The nun was Hiltrud of Sponheim, who had helped Hildegard to put ‘Scivias’ into writing and whose loss was a serious matter to her. She vented her anger by attacking the bishop and threatening him with ruin. ‘The rod you raise is not raised in the interest of God,’ she wrote to him[719], and ended her letter with these words: ‘your days are numbered, remember how Nebuchadnezzar fell and lost his crown. Many others who presumed that they would attain to heaven have likewise fallen.’ In point of fact Heinrich was soon afterwards charged with wasting the goods of the Church, was deposed and died in exile.
Another nun, who had also helped Hildegard with her writing and left her against her wish, was Richardis, sister of Hartwich, bishop of Bremen (1148-1168). The correspondence includes a letter from Hartwich to Hildegard, telling her that his sister died shortly after accepting her post as abbess, that she always regretted having left Hildegard and would have returned to her if she had lived. Hildegard in reply speaks warmly of the virtues of Richardis, and says that she finds comfort in the thought that God has removed her from the vanities of this world[720].
Abbesses of many convents, convinced of Hildegard’s being divinely inspired, wrote to her for advice concerning personal matters. Thus the abbess of Altwick near Utrecht asked if she were justified in resigning her post and becoming a recluse, and Hildegard in reply urged her not to yield to temptation but to remain in charge of her flock[721]. The abbess Sophie of Kizzingen had the same wish but was likewise advised to persevere in her vocation[722]. Among numerous other letters from the superiors of convents there is one from the abbess Adelheid of Gandersheim († 1184) who had been educated by Hildegard and who wrote begging for news and saying that she was shortly coming on a visit[723].
Among the letters bearing on Hildegard’s religious attitude is one addressed to Philip von Heinsberg, an earnest adherent of Pope Alexander. He afterwards became archbishop of Cöln, and Hildegard wrote warning him of the dangers to be apprehended from a sect of heretics, doubtless the so-called Cathari, of whom more later[724]. This sect were at the time in possession of a well-planned organization in the Rhine districts, and aroused serious apprehension in religious circles. The archbishop of Cöln, Reinald von Dassel (1159-1167), disputed with them; Ekbert, a monk of Schönau to whom we shall return, directly attacked their doctrines, and in 1163 a number of them were burnt to death at Cöln. It is interesting to note what fears they inspired and how their doctrines were interpreted. In the eyes of Hildegard there is no doubt as to their being altogether evil.
The situation of the Rupertsberg near the Rhine, the highway of communication in those days, kept Hildegard in touch with the outside world. She received many visitors and took frequent journeys. We hear of her going to Cöln, Trier, Würzburg, Bamberg and to many monasteries in the neighbourhood, but the story that she went as far as Paris and Tours is unfounded—the result of a misinterpreted passage in the account of her life[725]. Personal acquaintance with Hildegard seems only to have confirmed the belief in her superior abilities and her direct converse with the Godhead—a curious illustration of the credulity of the age, with its craving for signs and wonders.