Hildegard of Bingen, Medieval Herbalist
By Shanon Sterringer
Photo taken from an herb garden along the Hildegard Trail in Germany, 2019
The works of Hildegard of Bingen have become quite popular in the last few decades after they were unearthed by musicians and scholars following centuries of dormancy. Who was this 12th century German Benedictine nun and why is she emerging as one of history’s most interesting and brilliant women?
The extent of her genius stretches beyond her skills as an herbalist to include musician, artist, preacher, healer, politician, philosopher, theologian, storyteller, and creative leader, to name a few of her gifts. She was deeply rooted in the Benedictine tradition of ora et labora (prayer and work) which included working in the monastery gardens and infirmary.
Hildegard of Bingen has been credited with creating the term, “viriditas” which translated from the Latin means, “greening power” because of the way she used it in her writings to describe the primordial energy that not only created this earth but sustains and enlivens it. The term actually predated Hildegard (she picked it up from earlier writers), but she gave it a much deeper and profound meaning. The sacred greenness referred to by Hildegard exists not only in the material form, but spiritually and intellectually. It is the very essence of life and the energy that draws so many to find peace and healing in nature, especially in our gardens.
Photo taken from the ruins at Disibodenberg, Germany in 2015. This is believed to have been the infirmary at the male Benedictine monastery where Hildegard was tithed as a young child. She lived here for almost forty years, so it may be the space where she learned how to use herbs for healing.
Hildegard’s two works on herbs and healing include Physica and Causae et Curae, but her use of natural images including gardens, bees/honey, and viriditas permeate many of her other writings. She used natural images as metaphors, at times even parables, to teach and preach. For example, she wrote the following in a letter to Philip, Archbishop of Cologne, offering what we would refer to today as spiritual direction:
In a vision, I saw as it were, the sun shining with excessive heat upon mud filled with worms, and these creatures stretched themselves out in joy of the heat, but, eventually, not being able to bear the excessive heat, they hid themselves away, and the mud sent forth a noisome stench. I saw also that the sun shone in a garden, in which roses and lilies and all kinds of herbs grew, and the flowers grew abundantly by the heat of the sun, and the herbs sent forth innumerable roots and gave forth an exceedingly delightful odor, so that many people, suffused with this lovely fragrance, rejoiced in the garden as if it were paradise. And I heard a voice from above saying to you: Make your decision, O human, whether you wish to remain in this garden of delights or to lie with the worms in their stinking excrement.
The photo of the apothecary is an example of how Hildegard’s herbal remedies are still being used in Germany today.
As gardeners, we have all experienced the beautiful fragrance, as well as the noisome stench, of our gardens, so this image resonates. Hildegard lived close to the earth, and therefore, was able to weave into her spiritual, political, and theological writings these powerful and relevant metaphors that speak to us on a soul level.
Her work, Physica, is a practical guide to using herbs for holistic health. It consists of nine books describing the benefits and cautions of certain herbs, trees, precious gemstones, and so on. The work has been translated into English by Priscilla Throop (1998) and is available at most online bookstores. There is an abbreviated version of it, which includes only the chapter on plants published by Beacon Press (2001).
Today, many are finding creative ways to bring Hildegard’s work on herbs and the natural world back into use. Hildegardens (Hildegard-inspired herb gardens) are sprouting up across Germany, and even in the U.S., for example, we are developing one here at the Hildegard Haus in Fairport Harbor!
Photo from a Hildegarden in Germany, 2019
The works of Hildegard of Bingen, including her love for the natural world, blossomed in her day. For centuries, the seeds of her genius lay dormant, buried deep within the earth, until the conditions were right for new sprouts to emerge. Today, these seeds are blowing far and wide producing rich and abundant fruit as her charism and wisdom speak boldly to our contemporary context.
Photo from the Hildegarden in Fairport Harbor, Ohio, 2022
How can you bring a bit of Hildegard into your daily experience? Of course, you can plant some of the herbs she refers to in her works, thus creating a Hildegarden of your own! You can also bring her into your life in simpler ways. For example, you could keep a jar of her “Spices of Joy” (equal parts cinnamon and nutmeg, with clove to taste) on your counter to mix into your oatmeal, coffee, or maybe even into your next apple cake! You could mix up a batch of her “Cookies of Joy” (recipe to follow) or simply brew a cup of fennel tea (fennel for Hildegard is a super-herb) to sip while listening to one of her mesmerizing chants. Personally, I love to create beeswax balms and salves infused with the herbs she grew.
Hildegard died in 1179 at the age of 81 years old. Her sisters recorded a vision of a brilliant cross-shaped light in the sky as her soul departed her physical body. Almost nine-hundred years later, she continues to invite us into her garden. I believe she would rejoice at being invited into ours!
Recipe from the Healthy Hildegard website:
- 12 Tablespoon Butter for mixture
- + 1 T Butter to grease cookie sheet
- ¾ cup brown sugar
- 1/3 cup honey
- 4 egg yolks
- 2 ½ cups spelt flour
- 1 tsp sea salt
- 2 rounded T Spices of Joy
Melt butter under low heat, add sugar, honey, egg yolks, beating lightly. Add flour, salt, and combine gently. Refrigerate dough after mixing for 1 hour. Remove, roll out on floured surface, cut with cookie cutter. Bake on sheet 400 degrees F for 10-15 minutes.
You might enjoy scrolling through the Healthy Hildegard website (www.healthyhildegard.com) based in Colorado and founded by Josh Cashman. It is filled with information on Hildegard’s use of herbs and recipes.
Join Shanon on Tuesday, May 16, at 1pm Eastern for her webinar: Hildegard of Bingen: Medieval Herbalist. Our webinars are free to The Herb Society of America members and $7.50 for guests. Become a member today, and enjoy all of our webinars for free along with access to the webinar library with over fifty program titles. To register, visit https://www.herbsociety.org/hsa-learn/herb-education/hsa-webinars/
Medicinal Disclaimer: It is the policy of The Herb Society of America, Inc. not to advise or recommend herbs for medicinal or health use. The information in this presentation is intended for educational purposes only and should not be considered as a recommendation or an endorsement of any particular medical or health treatment. Please consult a health care provider before pursuing any herbal treatments.
Photo credits: All photos courtesy of the author.
Shanon Sterringer holds a PhD in Ethical and Creative Leadership (focused on the model of St. Hildegard of Bingen); a DMin, two master’s degrees (MA in theology and MA in ministry), and a BA in Medieval History. She is the founding pastor of the Hildegard Haus in Fairport Harbor, OH, and the owner of The Green Shepherdess Fair-Trade shop and local art studio, also in Fairport Harbor. She has traveled to the Rhine Valley several times since 2015 (most recently in January 2023) to walk in the footsteps of St. Hildegard. She has dedicated the last ten years of her life to studying Hildegard’s charism, most particularly as it relates to holistic health and spirituality. While on sabbatical in 2019, Shanon spent most of the year learning about herbs while working for a local herbalist, Lynn Abbey, at Blue Lake Botanicals in Willoughby, Ohio. Shanon is married and the mother of three adult daughters and has published two books on the topic of Hildegard (Forbidden Grace and 30 Day Journey with St. Hildegard). A third book (focused on the material recorded in Physica) is in process. Shanon has offered many retreats and educational presentations on the topic of Hildegard and Herbs, including a variety of online classes/seminars and a presentation at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens for the Western Reserve Herb Society.
Though declared the most widespread of juniper species and appearing widely across the United States, there are eighteen states in which Juniperus communis does not grow as a native: NJ, DE, MD, WV, KY, MO, IA, NE, KS, OK, AR, TN, AL, MS, LA, TX, or HI. Those states may have other juniper species, or cultivated plants, but Juniperus communis is not native to their soil (Flora of North America)
Well-known to us as the flavoring in gin, juniper species have been known in this country for many years for a multitude of purposes, from culinary, medicinal, and insect control to ceremonial and utility uses. 
There are many recipes for using juniper berries, which can now be found in the spice section of many grocery stores. While some may find the taste a bit strong or resinous, others find it adds wonderful flavor to meat dishes, vegetables, and even baked goods. 
We learned from Indigenous Peoples to dry, then powder, the fruits, using the powder much as we do black pepper. Others teach burning the leaves, pouring boiling water over the ashes, straining the liquid, and using it as a flavoring.
Then, as HSA President, she made almost weekly trips from Hudson, Ohio, to Washington, DC, to consult with attorneys and federal officials on behalf of The Society. According to a tribute to Genevieve written by Past President Madalene Hill,
Once Genevieve secured this agreement, she called upon her old friend, Kathrine Patch, for fundraising help. Katherine had assisted Elsetta Barnes, ASLA (one of the first women landscape architects and designer of the current WRHS herb garden), in raising funds for the WRHS herb garden. As the story goes, Elsetta asked Katherine to be the treasurer of this project. “But,” exclaimed Katherine, “I’ve never been treasurer of anything in my life.” “Don’t you pay your bills?” responded Elsetta. “I guess I do,” replied Katherine. And suddenly, Katherine had a new job! Katherine used this experience to raise the initial funds for the National Herb Garden.
From a single idea of a national herb garden to its dedication, the women of The Herb Society of America got the job done. Cheers to these women as we celebrate Women’s History Month.
I have a bumper sticker on my car that reads: “I’d rather be lost in the Sods than found in the city.” A friend introduced me to the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area in West Virginia back when I was in college (and back when few people ever ventured that far outside of Washington, DC), and I have been hiking in the West Virginia mountains ever since. They are truly special in so many respects.
Gaultheria procumbens (American wintergreen; Eastern teaberry) dotting the forest floor. As heretical as this may sound, I actually dislike the taste of wintergreen, but I find the scent uplifting and enjoy crushing a leaf to release its heavy perfume. The leaves’ fall color is also some of the most beautiful I have seen. Historically, American wintergreen has been used as a flavoring for teas and even chewing gum. According to Foster and Duke (1990), “Traditionally, leaf tea [was] used for colds, headaches, stomachaches, fevers, kidney ailments; externally, wash [was used] for rheumatism, sore muscles, lumbago.” But, care must be taken when consuming Gaultheria. Its essential oils are very toxic when ingested internally.
Downy rattlesnake-plantain (Goodyeara pubescens) is a member of the Orchidaceae family and a native herb that I have encountered only once, despite it being a common species of orchid in the mountains of the eastern United States. I spotted it during my recent foray into the southern WV mountains, where it was sparsely distributed amongst the leaf duff under a stand of varying oak (Quercus) species. It is a rather unique-looking plant that I might have missed had I not been tuned into the forest floor. Goodyeara
has dark green leaves with pronounced light-green to white venation arranged in a basal rosette, and the white flowers are born on tall, slender stalks.
Medicinal Disclaimer: 
Ginger, 
Ginger is a very old spice. The Indians and the Chinese used ginger as a medicine over 5000 years ago to treat a variety of ailments (Bode, 2011). It was also used to flavor foods long before history was even recorded. The Greeks and the Romans introduced ginger to Europe and the Mediterranean area by way of the Arab traders. It became an important spice in Europe until the fall of the Roman Empire. When the Arabs re-established trade routes after the fall, ginger found its way back into European apothecaries and kitchens. It is said that one pound of ginger cost the same as one sheep in the 13th and 14
Today, growing culinary ginger is not limited to the hot, humid areas of Southeast Asia and India as it was long ago. Anyone living in southern growing areas (USDA Hardiness Zones 8 – 12) can grow it as a perennial. In colder areas, it can be grown in pots and brought indoors for the winter or grown in the ground, but dug up before frost and potted up for overwintering indoors in a cool location. It prefers a rich, moist soil, good drainage, and shade in the south, but full sun in the north. If starting plants from store-bought ginger rhizomes, the rhizome should be first soaked in water to remove any growth retardant that may have been used. Each rhizome can be cut into sections with at least two eyes and planted in soil. Harvest the rhizomes when the leaves begin to fade. 
using ginger in some form: fresh, ground, crystallized, pickled, preserved, or dried. 
Unfortunately for ginger, there is a dark side to its history. 
In the U.S. National Arboretum, a few little thorny trees bearing small astringent fruits are tucked away in a research field. These trees are called blackthorn (Prunus spinosa). The fruits, called sloes, are very bitter, and when eaten raw, will dry out your mouth in a second. Generally, they’re unpleasant until frozen, and even after that, they are not great. But when steeped in gin with sugar, the flavor and color of the resulting drink is comparable to a sweet red wine.
thorny, and trunks can grow densely together making blackthorn ideal for use in hedgerows, where it was employed heavily in that role in England after the Enclosure Act. The Enclosure Act was the creation of private land in England, and landowners wanted what was in their lands kept in and what was outside kept out (Shaw, 2016). Therefore, a spiny tree with tough wood was perfect for their needs. Most hedges were a mix of different species, and blackthorn was often included in the mix. 
low class and horrible as possible, the author specifically refers to their ingredients as something a grocer would trim off of their goods or refuse to sell. This is, perhaps, specifically in reference to the juniper berries in gin not being used for much else in England at the time. The Gin Craze Ward speaks of was when cheap spirits, mostly gin, reached London, England. The popularity of gin was the result of various factors: 1) spirits becoming easier to distill; 2) economic protectionism from the British monarchy against the French; and 3) the expansion of London (Vorel, 2020). Essentially, there was a new monarch that wanted to shield Britain from France, and in turn, hurt the French. So, there were tariffs on French goods, including the drink of choice at the time—brandy.
Sloe gin is made by adding 500g of sloes and 250g of sugar into a liter of gin and then letting it steep for two to three months. The resulting solution is bottled after running it through a filter to catch any skins or other undesirable bits. This is then decanted into bottles, where it continues to mature until enjoyed (Cadogan, 2014). Sloe gin is traditionally enjoyed straight and warm, but when sloe gin reached America in the early 1900s, it became popularized by the Sloe Gin Fizz cocktail (Lee, n.d.). The tradition of drinking sloe gin warm may be a product of the fruit being picked around mid-October and the preparation taking three months to reach initial maturity. The drink would be truly ready to enjoy in the middle of winter, but would be “good enough” on or around Christmas, when a warm beverage would be a treat on a chilly day. 
I remember the first dress that made me feel good about myself. I was 17 and looking for something to wear to a dance, not formal, not cocktail, but a Sunday dress, as we called them so many years ago. It was a slim dress (I could get away with that in those days), with three-quarter length sleeves, a prim boat neckline, and a wide shiny ribbon sash at the waist. The dress was indigo blue. I remember nothing about the boy or the dance, but I still remember the dress.
There are other plants that produce a blue dye, especially 
Those who worked in the fields were subject to more than just hard work in the hot sun. Many had to endure the “putrid effluvia of the coastal swamps,” as well as stagnant pond water and mosquitoes.
Synthetic indigo is common now with the advantage of lower cost. As is often the case, lower cost doesn’t always mean equal products, and in this case, synthetic indigo carries the costs of diminished depth of color and damage to the environment. Unlike natural indigo, synthetic indigo is dependent on petrochemicals for processing, which are toxic and require appropriate disposal, adding to the expense. Water remaining from natural indigo processing is free of chemicals and can safely be returned to the earth. 
The ancient origins of the word Lammas comes from the Old English 
There is still an ancient county fair held in Ballycastle Ireland called the Auld Lammas Fair. This fair is held every year on the last Monday and Tuesday of August and is associated with the Lammas harvest festival. It has taken place for nearly 400 years, and it dates back to the 17th century. Interestingly enough, this timing is familiar to us. So many of our own county fairs are held during this time, and it is lovely to think that we are continuing these ancient celebrations from a time when legend and magic blended with everyday life well into our own time. A brief video of the fair can be found here: 
However you celebrate it this year, Lammas or Lughnasadh begins on the first of August, falling halfway between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox. I celebrate this day as a harvest celebration, sometimes by myself and sometimes with my neighbors. It is always such a beautiful time of year. The first soft fruits and vegetables have begun to ripen and the trees are heavily laden with lavish canopies of pears, plums, apples, and more. It is high summer and the days are slowly beginning to shorten, but the warm evening air is always filled with such sweet garden scents and the coming promise of autumn’s abundance. Everywhere you turn or step, the hum of honeybees and other pollinators surrounds you. At night, all of the fireflies begin to dance around, lighting up the sky and making even the oldest of us long to catch a bit of that light for a minute in a glass mason jar, the same way we did when we were children.
Centuries ago, I would be relying on my community to help feed my family in a time when my harvest failed, but with supermarkets to rely upon we live with a false sense of security about our food. That being said, climate change and its hazardous impact upon our food system is no longer an abstract concept. Extremes in temperatures, drought, and wind patterns are forcing us to study the phenology of our personal and public landscapes so that we can make decisions based upon an almost unknown and uncertain future.
Whether you’re a solitary gardener or a community gardener, we are all connected through the soil, sunshine, wind, and rain. We are all connected through our dreams of our beautiful gardens, large or small. We all depend on the same resources and they are not infinite. I feel compelled to take a moment today to give thanks for the harvest, and to remember those who have gone before us, who have traditionally worked the land and brought forth its abundance for our pleasure.
In 2001 when I was the National Herb Garden intern, my internship project was to research the plants in the Fragrance Garden and write the copy for the permanent display labels. I was delighted to get to research the Fragrance Garden, because so many of my favorite plants are fragrant plants, and I love them, both for their wonderful scents, but also for their often romantic and beguiling histories. So many of those stories could not fit on those small labels, but they stayed with me all these years nonetheless. My favorite was the story of how patchouli became known in the West, a story that involves French fashion, mistaken identity, and Napoleon Bonaparte.
You may have a strong reaction to just hearing the word “patchouli.” It seems to be one of those love-it-or-hate-it smells. I love it, but I understand disliking it. It is very strong and musky and extremely persistent (more on that later). Or maybe you dislike it because of its strong association with that other love-them-or-hate-them topic, the hippies. American and European young people flocked to India in the late sixties and early seventies and brought patchouli back home with them, along with other Indian goods and practices now associated with the hippie counterculture, like marijuana, incense, mala beads, colorful printed cottons, yoga, meditation, sitar music, and vegetarianism.
Nevertheless, it is an essential ingredient in the perfume world, where it is an extremely common base note found in a majority of perfumes today, at least in small quantities. It is found in Opium, Coco Mademoiselle, Paloma, Tabu, Arpege, Miss Dior, and many others. The oil is both very strong and long lasting and is also an excellent fixative, which means that it “fixes” whichever scents it is blended with, making the more volatile top notes last longer. It is said to have the rare property of deepening and improving with age, becoming richer and more complex, unlike most essential oils, which degrade over time (the same is said of sandalwood, vetiver, and frankincense). In small amounts and blended with other scents, it isn’t necessarily discernible as patchouli, but it lends the perfume a rich, warm, well-rounded base. It is also used in very low concentrations in the flavor industry to flavor beverages, food, and candy! In India, it is used to scent tobacco. Interestingly, there is no synthetic version.
And now for the story that so tantalized me. As a lifelong seamstress, I love textile history and lore as much as all things herbal, and this story has both! The history of patchouli arriving in the West is inextricably bound up with the history of Kashmiri shawls. Beautiful, ornate, woolen shawls have been woven in the Kashmir valley on the border of India and Pakistan for many centuries (documented to the 11
delicate silky fibers. The hair–and resulting yarn–is extremely fine textured and is known as cashmere (a variant spelling of Kashmir) or as pashmina (a term originally referring only to the very finest grade of cashmere but now diluted to near meaninglessness). One shawl could take a team of weavers many months up to a couple of years to produce, and the finest shawls cost the equivalent of about $10,000 in today’s dollars. They were gifted to and worn by royalty and the ruling elite throughout India, the Middle East and Near East, and beyond. By the mid-1700s, the shawls were finding their way into Europe, brought home to England and France by officers with the East India Company as gifts for their wives, and by the late 1700s, there were also textile factories in Scotland, England, and France creating imitations from fine merino wool and eventually from cashmere yarn imported from the East.
herself eventually collected hundreds of them. Those “in the know” considered it essential to acquire an authentic imported Kashmiri shawl and not one of the inferior domestic imitations. A reliable way to tell them apart, at least prior to about 1830, was by their scent! For when the shawls were packed for shipping in Kashmir, they were layered with dried patchouli leaves to repel moths. The enduring scent infused the shawls and added greatly to their mystique and glamour. The fragrance became as fashionable as the shawl, but for years, no one in the West knew its source. By 1826, French perfumers figured out that the source of the scent was the crumbled brown packing material, and eventually plants were located, imported, and grown in greenhouses. However, the plant that was imported was 
The shawls, and the scent of patchouli, were an essential item of fashion from 1800 up to about the early 1870s. Many women of high society had their portraits painted wrapped in their shawls. The shawls paired well with the clingy Empire style gowns worn in the early part of the century (think Jane Austen movies) and also with the full crinoline and hoop skirts of mid-century. However, they did not go as well 
with the bustled dresses coming into fashion in the 1870s and so fell out of fashion in favor of fitted jackets. Economic and geo-political changes also hurt imports. Additionally, the scent of patchouli also gradually fell out of favor as it became associated with licentiousness and marital infidelity, as its persistence would often betray the guilty parties, and among “respectable” women, lighter floral scents like violets and lilac came into style.
to refer to the motif itself. The pattern endured in European fashion and decorative arts, coming in and out of style over the years, and eventually exploding in popularity once again in the 1960s, right along with patchouli oil as perfume!
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