PENGUIN CLASSICS

HILDEGARD OF BINGEN: SELECTED WRITINGS

Mark Atherton (Commentator and Translator)

As Hildegard became established at Rupertsberg, she began to gain a reputation for prophecy and political wisdom as well as theological understanding, and it was in this role as adviser and prophetess that she became known as the ‘Sibyl of the Rhine’. Soon her direct advice was being sought, and given, in the current affairs of the German Empire and the Church. The letters here, though difficult to date precisely, illustrate aspects of this activity.

Bernard of Clairvaux was an obvious person for Hildegard to appeal to for support as she pondered a radical change of course in her life and career. A widely known author and by then a venerable figure, Bernard was the abbot of the principal Cistercian monastery and head of the Cistercian order. He was also well placed to intervene on her behalf with a former monk of Clairvaux, Bernardo Pignatelli of Pisa, who had been elected Pope Eugenius III in the previous year. Bernard was an influential figure in the politics of Church and state, particularly in France and Germany, and at the time of her letter to him he had been preoccupied with preaching journeys in which he sought to gather support for the Second Crusade.

Letter to Bernard of Clairvaux, 1146

Venerable Father Bernard, you are held wonderfully in high honour by the power of God. You are a terror to the unlawful foolishness of the world; you burn in the love of God’s son; you are eager to win men for the banner of the Holy Cross to fight wars in the Christian army against the fury of the pagans. Father, I ask you, by the living God, to attend to my questions.

I am very concerned by this vision which has appeared to me in the spirit of mystery, for I have never seen it with the external eyes of the flesh. I who am miserable and more than miserable in my womanly existence have seen great wonders since I was a child. And my tongue could not express them, if God’s Spirit did not teach me to believe.

Most gentle Father, you are secure; in your goodness please answer me, your unworthy servant, for since I was a child I have never felt secure, not for a single hour! Could you search your soul, in your piety and wisdom, and discover how you are instructed by the Holy Spirit, and pour consolation upon me, your servant, from your heart?

For in the text I know the inner meaning of the exposition of the Psalter and the Gospel and other books shown to me in this vision, which touches my heart and soul like a consuming fire, teaching me these profundities of exposition. But it does not teach me writings in the German tongue — these I do not know — and I only know how to read for the simple meaning, not for any textual analysis.

Give me an answer as to what you think for I am a person ignorant of all teaching in external matters; I am taught inwardly, in my soul. Therefore I speak as one in doubt.

Hearing of your wisdom and piety I am comforted. Because there is so much divisiveness in people I have not dared to speak of these things to any other person except for one monk — whom I tested with regard to the integrity of his monastic life. I revealed all my secrets to him and he consoled me and convinced me that these are great secrets and things to be feared.

Father Bernard, I want you to reassure me, and then I will be certain! In a vision two years ago I saw you as a man able to stare at the sun without flinching, a courageous man. And I wept because I blush so much — because I am so timid! Good Father, through your kindness I have found a place in your soul, so that now, if you will, you can reveal to me through your word whether you want me to say these things openly or whether I should keep quiet. For I have great trouble with this visionary gift about how much I should say of what I have seen and heard. And sometimes, because I keep quiet, I am laid low by the vision and confined to my sickbed, unable to raise myself up. So I am sad, I lament before you: I am unstable with the movement of the wooden beam of the wine-press in my nature, the beam which grew at the prompting of the devil from the root in Adam (for which he was cast out as a wanderer in this exile world). But now I raise myself up, I run to you, I speak to you. You are not unstable, you ease the pressure of the wooden beam, you gain the victory in your soul! And it is not only yourself alone: you raise up the whole world to salvation! You are the eagle staring at the sun!

And so I entreat you: by the brightness of the Father, by his wonderful Word, by the sweet humour of compunction, by the Spirit of Truth, by the sacred sound through which all creation resounds, by the Word from which all the world was created, by the height of the Father who through the sweet power of green vigour sent the Word to the Virgin’s womb where it took on flesh like the honey in the honeycomb! May the sacred sound, the power of the Father, fall upon your heart and raise up your soul so that you are not passive and indifferent to the words of this correspondent, as long as you seek all things from God, from man or woman, or from the mystery, until you pass through the doorway in your soul and know these things in God.

Farewell. Be well in your soul, and strong in your certainty in God. Amen.

Bernard's Reply to Hildegard, 1146-47

To his beloved daughter in Christ, Hildegard, from Father Bernard, called the Abbot of Clairvaux. If the prayer of a sinner can be of some effect.

You seem to hold our meagre status in greater esteem than our own conscience allows, but we attribute this to your humility. Nevertheless I have by no means neglected to reply to your charitable letter, although the numerous duties of this office compel me to keep my reply shorter than I would wish.

We wish you joy in the grace of God that is within you, and for our part we beseech you to acknowledge it as grace and to respond with all the affection of humility and devotion, knowing that ‘God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble’. For the rest, where there is clearly inner knowledge and anointing that teaches all things, what remains for us to teach or admonish? Rather we humbly entreat you to remember us before God, along with those who are in spiritual communion with us.


Letters to Pope Eugenius III

In the first of several letters to Pope Eugenius III, written shortly after the Synod of Trier (1147–8) and before the completion of Scivias (1151), Hildegard alludes to the pope’s visit to Trier and expresses her concern that he will continue to lend his support for the book despite the opposition of many wise men of earthly inclination’.

Hildegard to Pope Eugenius III, 1148

Gentle Father, though a small and insignificant figure, I write to you now, in a true vision by mystical inspiration, on all that God wishes me to teach.

Resplendent Father, you came to our land in your official capacity, as God willed it, and you saw something of the true visions which the Living Light has taught me, and you heard them in the embrace of your heart. Now that a part of this writing is finished, still the same Light has not left me but burns in my soul as I have had it since childhood. Therefore I send you now this letter in the true admonition of God. And my soul desires that the Light from the Light will shine within you and pour over your eyes and awaken your spirit to these writings so that your soul may be crowned by them, as God so wishes. But many wise men of earthly inclination have rejected these things, in the inconstancy of their hearts, because they come from this poor female figure who was formed in the rib and not taught by the philosophers.

Father of pilgrims, hear the voice of Him who is. A strong king sat in his hall, high pillars before him covered in gold bands and adorned with pearls and precious stones. And the king chose to touch a tiny feather, so that it soared up marvellously, and a strong wind bore it up so that it did not fall. Again he speaks to you – he who is the Living Light shining in the heavens and in the abyss, not hidden or concealed by listening hearts. And he says: ‘Prepare this writing1 to be received by those who hear me; make it green with the juice of sweetness; make it a branching root and a soaring leaf against the devil. Then you will live in eternity. Do not reject these secrets of God, for they are part of that need which is hidden and which has not yet appeared openly.’ May the sweetest fragrance be in you. May you never tire on the path of justice.


The following letter to Pope Eugenius III is markedly different in tone from her earlier one to the same correspondent (above); the language is more apocalyptic, with the sword of divine justice circling in the air, and there is some intriguing animal imagery. It is tempting to relate the image of the bear to the new king of Germany, Frederick Barbarossa, who signed a political agreement with Eugenius at the Treaty of Constance in 1153. The letter to Henry (Bishop of Liège 1145–64) is similarly urgent, with its imagery of dark clouds ominously threatening the mountain of flowers and gentle breezes. The dark clouds are a less precise kind of metaphor than that of the bear, but the implication is that the Church is somehow threatened. Henry was loyal to Barbarossa and took part in the first Italian expedition of 1154, attending the Emperor’s coronation by Pope Hadrian IV in 1155. Hadrian IV was an Englishman and vigorous politician who at first honoured the Treaty of Constance by ousting the leader of the Senate, Arnold of Brescia, from Rome and by crowning Barbarossa as Emperor. But his agreement with King William I of Norman Sicily in 1156 brought a radical change of policy. In October 1157 a letter from Hadrian, delivered by his legates to the Diet of Besançon, provoked a bitter row with Barbarossa and his chancellor Rainald Dassel, who interpreted its requirements as a threat to imperial power. Hildegard’s letter to Hadrian presents a series of apocalyptic images and metaphors which, although bafflingly unclear, are of undoubted relevance to the events of Hadrian’s pontificate.

Hildegard to Pope Eugenius III, 1148–53
He who is not silent speaks – because of the weakness of those who are too blind to see, too deaf to hear, too dumb to speak – that robbers lie in wait by night with death-dealing weapons! And what does he say? The sword circles and turns, killing those who are evil in mind! You in your person are a shining breastplate, the primary root, the presider at Christ’s nuptials with the Church. But you are divided in your attentions. On the one hand your soul is renewed in the mystic flower that is the companion of virginity; on the other, you are the branch of the Church. Listen to the One who strikes with his name and flows in the torrent; listen to him speaking to you: do not cast the eye from the eye, do not cut off the light from the light; but stand on the even path, lest you be accused for the sake of those souls who have been placed in your bosom. Do not allow them to sink in the lake of perdition through the power of the feasting prelates! A jewel lies on the path, but a bear comes along. Seeing the beautiful jewel, he stretches out a paw to seize it and place it in his bosom. But suddenly an eagle appears, snatches the jewel, wraps it in the cover of his wings and bears it away to the inner courtyard of the palace of the king. That very jewel shines out its radiance in the presence of the king. And for love of the jewel, the king presents the eagle with golden shoes, praising him highly for his goodness. You now, the viceroy of Christ, seated on the throne of the Church, choose for yourself the better part, that you may be the eagle overcoming the bear! Adorn the inner courtyard of the Church in the souls entrusted to you, so that in your golden shoes you may come to the heights and remove yourself far from the intruder’s grasp!