This extraordinary woman, who stands out amidst the miseries and ruin of temporal and spiritual affairs in the twelfth century, like the figure of Huldah the prophetess when the kingdom of Judah was tottering to its fall, or like Cassandra in ancient Troy, properly deserves to be studied in connection with the political and ecclesiastical history of her times, with which she was intimately mixed up, and which she influenced by her prophecies, her warnings, and exhortations. But space forbids us giving her as full an article as she deserves.
She was born in 1098. Her father was a knight in attendance on Meginhard, Count of Spanheim. His name was Hildebert, and the place of her birth Bockelheim. At the age of 8 she was placed under the charge of Jutta, Abbess of Saint Disibod, a sister of the Count of Spanheim. From her sixth year the child was subject to visions, which appeared to her, as she describes, not externally, but within her soul. They continued till she was 15, without her venturing to publish them. On the death of Jutta in 1136, Hildegard, then aged 38, succeeded her. Her visions had attracted so much attention that numerous women came to place themselves under her direction, and finding the buildings too small, she erected a new convent on the Rupertsberg near Bingen, in 1147, and moved into it with 18 sisters.
Saint Hildegard was known throughout Europe by her writings: not that she could write in Latin herself, but she dotted down her visions and communications to various people of the town, in a jumble of German and Latin, and her secretary Gottfried put them for her into shape. She denounced the vices of society, of kings, nobles, of bishops and priests in unmeasured terms. If a prelate, even a Pope, wrote to her, however humbly, she sent him a stinging lecture in reply. She told home truths without varnishing them, so plainly as to make every one wince. She was courted by emperors and bishops, but she never yielded to their fascinations. No one approached her without receiving a rap over the knuckles, and, what was more, it was felt to be well deserved. In 1148 Pope Eugenius III was at Treves, when he heard every one talking of the prophecies of the famous abbess of Saint Rupert. He sent Adelbert, Bishop of Verdun, to examine her, and he studied her writings himself whilst at Treves. He even wrote her a letter, and received in return a lecture. About this time she completed the first part of her work called Scivias, a fantastic name corrupted from nosce vias, — know the ways (of the Lord), — which gives us the measure of her knowledge of Latin. The entire work was not completed till 1151.
Saint Hildegard thus describes her gift of visions: “I raise my hands to God, and then I am wafted by Him, like a feather without weight, before the wind, as far as it lists... Even from my childhood, when my limbs were not full-grown, to now in my seventieth year, my soul has seen visions. My spirit is, as God chooses, borne into the highest firmament, or among all sorts of peoples, and into the furthest lands, far away from my body. And when my inner eye by this means sees the truth, the sights which appear to me vary according to the nature of the vapours and creatures presented to me. These things I see not with my bodily eyes, nor through my understanding or thoughts, but through my spirit, yet with open eyes, and so that they never stir in me an emotion, but I see these sights waking by day or by night alike.”
Saint Bernard, who had the greatest respect for her, and valued her influence, urged her repeatedly to exert herself to stir up enthusiasm for the Crusade which he preached. She caught the flame, prophesied and exhorted, and contributed not a little towards sending to humiliation and death the thousands of Germans who started on that most unfortunate and disgraceful of all the Crusades. Whilst Bernard preached on the Rhine, she ascended the Feldberg, the highest peak of the Rhenish hills, and prayed on its summit, with outstretched arms, for the success of the undertaking. She held her arms so long extended that at last she fainted with exhaustion. The condition of the Church in Germany was deplorable to the last degree. Charlemagne and the Frank Emperors had made the bishops into electoral princes, with vast territories. They were, therefore, at the same time temporal and spiritual sovereigns. This caused the position of bishop to be sought by men of rank utterly unqualified for filling a spiritual office. The bishops were constantly at war with their neighbours, or rising in armed revolt against the Emperors. They kept splendid retinues, rode in armour at the head of their troops, and had the turbulence and ambition of temporal princes.
An instance must suffice. Henry I had been a gentle but feeble ruler of the archiepiscopal see of Mainz, in which was situated the convent of Saint Hildegard. A party in the chapter, moved by ambition and disgusted at his un-warlike character, raised some paltry accusations against him, which they carried to Rome. Archbishop Henry had a friend and confidant, the provost of Saint. Peter’s, named Arnold von Selnhoven, who owed his advancement to the favour of the archbishop. Henry gave Arnold a large sum of money, and sent him to Rome to plead his cause. Arnold secretly visited the Emperor Frederick I, secured his sanction to his treachery, and then, hastening to Rome, used the gold Archbishop Henry had given him to bribe those around the Pope to persuade his Holiness to depose Henry, and elevate him (Arnold) to the archiepiscopal throne in his room. Two cardinals were sent to Mainz to investigate the case. Henry saw that they had prejudged it, having been bribed by Arnold. He said to them, “I might appeal from your judgement to the Pope in person, but I appeal to a higher Judge — to Jesus Christ Himself — and I summon you both before His throne to answer for this injustice.” They answered scoffingly, “You lead the way, and we will follow.”
Both cardinals died suddenly before the close of the year. Arnold now returned in triumph to assume the office of his friend and benefactor, whom he had so treacherously supplanted. His arrogance knew no bounds. The people of Mainz writhed under his harsh rule, and the insolence with which he treated the nobles in his diocese embittered them against him. He waged incessant war with all the neighbouring princes, especially with the Palatine Herman II, of the Rhine. The Emperor interfered, and the Archbishop and the Palatine were ordered, as disturbers of the public peace, to carry a dog through the camp. The Archbishop escaped as being an ecclesiastic, but the Prince Palatine was obliged to submit to the ignominious and ridiculous sentence. This stirred up against the Archbishop numerous and implacable enemies. The people of Mainz, unable to endure his tyranny, plotted revolt. Saint Hildegard wrote him a letter of warning: “The Living Light says to you, Why are you not strong in fear? You have a sort of zeal, trampling down all that opposes you. But I warn you, cleanse the iniquity from the eye of your soul. Cut off the injustice with which you afflict your people. Turn to the Lord, for your time is at hand.” A friend also of the Archbishop, the Abbot of Erbach, cautioned him against incensing his subjects beyond endurance. “The Mainzers,” said Arnold, “are dogs that bark, but bite not.” When Saint Hildegard heard this, she sent word to him, “The dogs are slipped, and will tear you to pieces.” This prophecy came true. In 1160 the Archbishop was besieged in the Abbey of Saint James, outside Mainz, by a party of the citizens. The monastery was broken into, and a butcher cut the Archbishop down with his axe. The body was flung into a ditch, and the market women as they passed pelted it with eggs.
It was in sight of all this violence that Hildegard uttered her denunciations of the pride and lawlessness of the German prelates:
“He who was, and is, and will be, speaks to the shepherds of His Church. He who was sought to form His creatures after His own likeness, that man might obey His will. He that is has brought all creatures into being, in token that all proceeds from His will. He that will be will search out all that is hidden, and will renew all things. O my sons, says the Lord, you who pasture my sheep, why do you blush not at the warning voice of your Master? The ignorant creatures fulfil their Master’s commands, but you do not. I have called you, as the sun, to illumine men, but you are dark as black night. Woe to you! You should resemble Mount Zion, on which God dwells, but instead you are lostrels who do not that which is right, but that which pleases your fancies, and you follow but your own lusts. Instead of being like apostles, you are so sunk in worldly indolence that your time is spent in waging wars, or with buffoons and singers, or in chasing flies. You ought to be pillars of the Church, learned in Scripture, filled with the Spirit. But, instead, you ruin the Church by grinding down your subjects to satisfy your avarice and ambition. Therefore will the people rise, and will turn from you to the lay-princes, and will cry to them. We can no more endure these men, who befoul the land with every crime. They are drunkards and lovers of pleasure, who are sapping the foundations of the Church. Now, when the cries of the people have entered into the ears of the great Judge, then will He execute His wrath on these despisers of His laws, and give them over to the will of their enemies, who cry. How long shall we endure these ravening wolves? They should be the physicians of our souls, but they heal us not. They are given the power to bind and loose, but they bind us down as if we were wild beasts. Their sins rise up and make the Church to stink.
They teach not, but rend the sheep. Although they are drunkards, adulterers, and fornicators, they judge us harshly. How does it become these shaven heads, with stole and chasuble, to call out better harnessed and larger armies than we? The priest should not be a soldier, nor the soldier a priest. Therefore will we take from them what they hold against right and decency, and only leave them what is necessary for the welfare of souls. At that time the honour, power, and authority of the German Emperor, whereby the empire is protected, will be lessened by their fault, because they rule so basely and neglectfully, and do not live as heretofore. They will continue to exact from their subjects obedience, but not peaceableness and uprightness. Wherefore many kings, and princes, and peoples, who were before subject to the Roman empire, will separate from it, and submit no longer. Every land, every nation, will choose its own prince, and obey him, saying. The Empire is a burden and not an honour to us. And when the Roman empire is thus broken up, so will also the power of the papal throne be shattered; for when princes and other men find no more religion in Rome, they will despise the papal dignity, and will choose their priests and bishops, giving them other names, so that only a small part of Germany will remain subject to the Popes — namely, that nearest to his seat and diocese. And this will come to pass partly through war, partly through the energy of those who exhort the princes to rule their people themselves, and the bishops to hold their subjects in better order.”
The clear intelligence of Saint Hildegard no doubt foresaw that some events such as the Reformation and the Thirty Years’ War must ensue, if matters were not mended. The falling away of the greater part of Germany from the Church three centuries later was caused by the political situation rather than by desire of religious change. German exasperation, which had brooded long, burst into a flame, not against the Catholic religion so much as against the misgovernment of the episcopal electors and princely abbots. The Catholic religion was rejected only because it was entangled with the cause of these bishops. Of the frightful misgovernment and subordination of ecclesiastical character to that of temporal sovereignty there can be no doubt. Caesarius of Heisterbach, who lived in the same age as Saint Hildegard, quotes with approval the saying of a monk, “I can believe in any miracle and marvel except one — I cannot believe in the possibility of the salvation of a German bishop.”
Saint Hildegard wrote to Conrad I, Bishop of Worms, “You sit in the throne of Christ, but you hold a rod of iron for the controlling of the sheep.” To the Bishop of Spires, “Rise, O man, wallowing in blackness, rise, and build up the ruins, lay up store in heaven, that the black and filthy may blush at your elevation when you rise out of your filth; for your soul scarce lives on account of your evil deeds.” To the Archbishop of Treves, “Watch, and restrain yourself with an iron rod, and anoint your wounds that you may live.” She wrote to Popes Eugenius II, Anastasius IV, and Adrian IV, advising them of the dire state in which spiritual affairs stood in Germany. She wrote to the Emperors Frederick I, and Conrad III. There is scarcely a person of note throughout the empire to whom she did not address letters. She studied theology and medicine; she was consulted on questions of divinity and on cases of conscience. Her writings on medical science have attracted the attention of recent writers.
Saint Hildegard was engaged in a singular controversy with the choir-bishop of Mainz, was acted in spiritual affairs for the archbishop. During the quarrel between the Emperor Conrad III and Pope Alexander III there were rival archbishops claiming the see — Cuno, supported by the Pope, and Christian, nominated by the Emperor. In 1179 peace was made between Conrad and Alexander, and the Pope then confirmed Christian in the see. Before the Lateran Council of 1179, which saw the close of the schism, a certain youth died who had been excommunicated by one of the archbishops, probably Christian. He was buried in the cemetery attached to Saint Rupert’s convent. The choir bishop and chapter of Mainz at once wrote to Saint Hildegard, ordering her to dig up the body and eject it from consecrated ground. She refused, alleging that she had seen a vision in which Our Lord Himself had forbidden her. Moreover, as she said, the young man had confessed, been anointed, and had communicated before his death. And lest force should be used to disturb and throw out the body, she went to the cemetery, and removed all external traces of where the grave was. An interdict was launched against the convent. She abstained therefore from singing the offices in the chapel, and was debarred from receiving the Holy Communion. This went on for more than a month, and she began to be impatient. She wrote to the ecclesiastical directors of the see a glowing account of the advantage of choral hymnody and psalmody, which put devils to flight, and not obscurely hinted that she would not submit much longer to an unjust sentence, for she had heard a voice from heaven enjoining song. She went to Mainz herself, and appeared before the chapter, but could obtain no redress. Then she turned to the Archbishop of Cologne, and by his intervention the interdict was removed. However, Archbishop Christian, then in Italy, heard of the affair, and not pleased at the inter-meddling of a neighbouring archbishop, and perhaps moved by rancour against Hildegard, who had supported Cuno against him before his recognition by the Pope, he renewed the interdict.
Saint Hildegard then wrote him a long letter, arguing the case of the young man, who, as she asserted, certainly had been absolved and communicated by the parish priest of Bingen, when he lay on his deathbed, and pointing out the piteousness of her case, deprived of the sacraments and of the recitation of the daily offices. The archbishop accepted her act of submission, thought that she had been punished sufficiently, and removed the interdict. Christian was not a man of a religious spirit; he had invaded the see at the head of a body of armed retainers in 1165, and expelled Cuno the rightful archbishop. When he was acknowledged by the Pope, he took up his residence in Italy; Hildegard in vain wrote to him, entreating him to return to his see and rule it as its bishop; he never revisited it, but remained fighting in Italy, was taken prisoner, and died in captivity in 1183.
Saint Hildegard travelled about a great deal. She visited the Emperor Frederic I at Ingelheim, and traversed a portion of Germany preaching and prophesying to the people. She is known to have been at Treves, Metz, in Swabia, Franconia, at Paris and Tours. Saint Hildegard died in 1179, and was buried in her convent church. But this convent was destroyed by the Swedes in 1632, when her relics were removed to Eibingen.Dom Prosper Guéranger:
Let us salute the “great prophetess of the new Testament.” What Saint Bernard’s influence over his contemporaries was in the first half of the twelfth century, that in the second half was Hildegard’s, when the humble virgin became the oracle of popes and emperors, of princes and prelates. Multitudes from far and near flocked to Mount Saint Rupert where the doubts of ordinary life were solved and the questions of doctors answered. At length, by God’s command, Hildegard went forth from her monastery to administer to all alike, monks, clerics and laymen, the word of correction and salvation. The Spirit indeed breathes where He will (John iii. 8). To the massy pillars that support His royal palace, God preferred the poor little feather floating in the air, and blown about, at His pleasure, to here and there, in the light. In spite of labours, sicknesses and trials the holy abbess lived to the advanced age of 82, “in the shadow of the living light.” Her precious relics are now at Eibingen. The writings handed down to us from the pen of this illiterate virgin are a series of sublime visions embracing the whole range of contemporary science, physical and theological, from the creation of the world to its final consummation. May Hildegard deign to send us an interpreter of her works and an historian of her life such as they merit!Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:
At Rome, on the road to Tivoli, the birthday of St. Justin, priest and martyr, who distinguished himself by a glorious confession of the faith during the persecution of Valerian and Gallienus. He buried the bodies of the blessed pontiff, Sixtus, of Lawrence, Hippolytus, and many other saints, and finally consummated his martyrdom under Claudius.
Also at Rome, the holy martyrs Narcissus and Crescentio.
In Phrygia, St. Ariadna, martyr, under the emperor Hadrian.
In England, the holy martyrs Socrates and Stephen.
At Nevers, the holy martyrs Valerian, Macrinus, and Gordian.
At Autun, under the emperor Antoninus and the governor Valerian, St. Flocellus, a boy, who, after many sufferings, was torn to pieces by wild beasts, and thus won the crown of martyrs.
At Liege, blessed Lambert, bishop of Maestricht. Having, through zeal for religion, rebuked the royal family, he was undeservedly put to death by the guilty, and thus entered the court of the heavenly kingdom to enjoy it forever.
At Saragossa in Spain, St. Peter of Arbues, first inquisitor of the faith in the kingdom of Aragon, who received the palm of martyrdom by being barbarously massacred by apostate Jews, for defending courageously the Catholic faith according to the duties of his office. He was canonised by Blessed Pius IX in 1867.
The same day, St. Agathoclia, servant of an infidel woman, who was for a long time subjected by her to blows and other afflictions, that she might deny Christ. She was finally presented to the judge and cruelly lacerated, and as she persisted in confessing the faith, they cut off her tongue and threw her into the flames.
At Cordova, St. Columba, virgin and martyr.
At Milan, the departure from this world of St. Satyrus, confessor, whose distinguished merits are mentioned by his brother St. Ambrose.
At Rome, in the persecution of Diocletian, St. Theodora, a matron, who carefully ministered to the martyrs.
And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.
Thanks be to God.
