Hildegard. “Celandine.” Hildegard’s Healing Plants [from Her Medieval Classic

Physica]. Boston: Beacon, 2001. Print.

Hildegard von Bingen was a woman of all trades as a visionary, nun, healer and, later, saint. In her classic work on health and healing, Physica, written around 1150 to 1157 AD, Hildegard had a section on plants in which she observed and noted 230 plants and grains. Many of these plants are still grown in gardens today. In each mini-section of this plant section, Hildegard describes the uses of plants in detail and what one must do to utilize them to their fullest extent. In her section for “Celandine,” Hildegard warns that it has a poisonous juice that no healthy person should drink. She cautions that it will harm its digester inwardly making dissolving and eating food very painful. Its juice should only be used in an ointment for those who have ulcers.

Stillman, John Maxson. The Story of Alchemy and Early Chemistry: (the Story of Early

Chemistry). New York: Dover Publ., 1960. Print.

Stillman’s book documents the evolution of chemical and scientific knowledge from the beginning of time to the end of the 18^th century. Starting with “Chemical Knowledge of the Middle Ages,” Stillman progresses basically century-by-century discussing the important findings and theories of each and how such theories changed. He discusses the ideas and practices of the Greeks and Arabians, and how their recipes for ink, gold and oil of eggs changes and progresses as time moves on. In the 13^th century, nature was the main focus of alchemists/early chemists. Every procedure/experiment they ever did was done in order to understand the spirit of nature better. Elements, such as manganese, were named and their practical uses discovered. Starting in the 14^th century, these scientists were trying to purify salts and break down numerous compounds through “calcination” to their basic elements, which were, as they believed, only metals. Again, they were still searching/creating for the one stone that could transmute all of these metals into “something greater,” gold. By the 16^th century, their skills and techniques advanced so much to the point that they could extract alcohol from wine and oils from multiple animals (musks, beavers and scorpions) and understand the process to the point that they could control the yield of oil.

With his chapter “Chemical Knowledge of the Middle Ages,” Stillman basically states that medieval alchemists had chemical knowledge under the guise of chemistry stating a lot of the recipes of the 12^th century monk, Theophilus, and the chemistry behind them. Funny enough, he also states how Theophilus was difficult to find in early encyclopedias to attribute chemical knowledge to, such as the refining of copper and the methods for separating gold and silver from other metals, because there was a Greek alchemist named Theophilus who worked much earlier than the medieval one. He confusingly uses the term “alchemist” and “chemist” interchangeably because he defines two classes of chemists during this period. One class was the scholars who learned the natural philosophy of the time and understood the doctrines from Greek and Roman thinkers and the other class being those who were not philosophers and were directly engaged in the practical arts of chemistry. Such a usage blurs the difference between an alchemist and a chemist even though the term and true practice of chemistry was established in the early 17^th century.

Freeman, Margaret B. “Celandine.” Herbs for the Mediaeval Household: For Cooking,

Healing and Divers Uses. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1971. Print.

Freeman’s book first introduces herbs and then divides various medieval herbs into four sections: herbs for cooking (some of which may have healing virtues), herbs for healing, herbs for poisoning pests and sweet smelling herbs (for laying among clothes and other uses). Chelidonium Majus, also known as Greater Celandine, is found in the herbs for healing section. Country folk were known to have used this herb “to cure warts, ringworm and corns.” It was apparently also good, according to Bancke’s Herbal, which Freeman cites, for sore eyes and for those who have venom in their system.

Bayard, Tania. Sweet Herbs and Sundry Flowers: Medieval Gardens and the Gardens of

the Cloisters. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1985. Print.

Bayard’s book on medieval gardens has a specific focus on the Cloisters’ gardens. In the beginning of the book, she introduces the plan of Saint Gall in order to explain why medieval gardens are structured in such a manner. Gardens in monasteries should be designed so that the monks can be self-sufficient. Everything that they would ever need should be within the confines of the monastery. Bayard then goes into detail on the uses of these medieval plants in medicine, food and textiles. After discussing the general uses of the plants, she then describes both the Cuxa and Bonnefont cloister gardens in the museum. Some of the plants at the Cuxa garden were not from the Middle Ages and were planted mostly for aesthetics, she explains, but it was designed with the trees far apart from each other as was proscribed by Saint Gall so that spiders would not make webs from one tree to another and catch a passerby in the face. For the Bonnefont garden, it was not specifically designed to replicate a particular medieval garden but rather gives an idea of how plants might have been grown in both secular and monastic herb gardens. This garden is full of herbs, which are plants with a practical purpose whether it be for cooking, medicine and so on, that are from the Middle Ages. After both the Cuxa and Bonnefont section, Bayard includes a list of the plants, with both their Latin and common names, that were in each respective garden in the 1980s.

Wamberg, Jacob. Art & Alchemy. Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum, 2006. Print.

Wamberg’s book, Art & Alchemy, follows the progression of Alchemy in art in the Western world starting from its introduction in the 12^th century to the present day. Wamberg first explains what alchemy is, as a mixture of science, philosophy and religion, and what it meant to those who practiced it, starting in the Middle Ages. Alchemy was first introduced to the Western world on February 11, 1144 as Robert from Ketton, who was commissioned by the abbot of Cluny, translated an Arabic book on “The Art of Alchemy” into Latin. Wamberg thoroughly explains why the Church and its leaders had a great fascination with this field for they found many similarities between Alchemy and Jesus Christ. Alchemy’s goal was to discover “a stone which is not a stone,” and Jesus is particularly known in the Christian religion as being the “cornerstone of humanity.” The symbolism behind the field especially motivated early scientists, clergymen and artists, alike, to search for this stone both introspectively and physically as they also believed that this stone could transmute any basic metal into gold. This perspective is then applied to each subsequent chapter in Wamberg’s book starting in the Middle Ages to 20^th century Prague. Wamberg observes specific paintings and works that have an emphasis on stone, especially when juxtaposed with Christian figures. He notes how paintings done by Francesco del Cosso, who came from a family of bricklayers, Ersole de Roberti in the late 15^th century depicted the miracles and works of Saint John the Baptist and Saint Vincent Ferrer next to clearly defined rock formations. The anonymous painting, Stigmatization of St. Francis at Pesaro, and Schifanoia’s The Triumph of Venus, both from the late 15^th-century, combine architecture and organic forms. The idea of minerals growing in the womb of Mother Earth and thus striving towards perfection is present in these two paintings. Again, this whole notion of “a stone that is not a stone” is indicated when stones and rock formations are placed in conjunction with holy figures as well as when they are seen coming from the earth. Wamberg focused on the representation of stone, which was essential to the practice of alchemy, in art, even though this phenomenon occurs more in the Renaissance all the way up to the 19^th and 20^th century with photographs.