“When the platypus was first discovered by Europeans in the late 1700s, a pelt and sketch were sent back to the United Kingdom by Captain John Hunter, the second Governor of New South Wales. The British scientists were at first convinced that the odd collection of physical attributes must have been a hoax. George Shaw, who produced the first description of the animal in the Naturalist’s Miscellany in 1799 stated that it was impossible not to entertain doubts as to its genuine nature, and Robert Knox believed it may have been produced by some Asian taxidermist. It was thought that somebody had sewn a duck’s beak onto the body of a beaver-like animal. Shaw even took a pair of scissors to the dried skin to check for stitches.” —quoted by McGill University from English Wikipedia
The Luttrell Hybrid… Bird or Mammal or Both?
The platypus is only found in a narrow coastal strip along eastern Australia. It wasn’t known in Europe any earlier than the late 17th or 18th century. Or was it?
This drawing is in the 14th-century Luttrell Psalter. Obviously, it’s a hybrid with a boar on the right and something else on the left. The left side doesn’t look like a duck, however, despite the blue color that is reminiscent of a mallard (blue is used for a lot of un-blue things in the Luttrell Psalter).
Strangely-drawn animals are not unusual for the Middle Ages. Many Crocodiles and tigers would be completely unrecognizable if they weren’t labeled.
But the creature on the left seems rather carefully drawn, and there’s no difficulty in recognizing the boar. Note that the critter with the flat bill doesn’t have duck feet. It has furry legs and claws.
But let’s take a look at a mallard duck, a familiar bird throughout the northern hemisphere:
[source: Bengt Nyman, Wikipedia]
The mallard differs from the drawing in several respects. The nostrils are close to the head, and the bill tapers to a point with a dark spur. The feathers pull away from the beak, they do not flap over it. The eye does not have a conspicuous ring like the Luttrell drawing. So, except for the colors, it’s not very similar. And, of course, it has duck feet, not fur and claws.
There are numerous drawings of ducks and geese in medieval manuscripts that are similar in time and style to the Luttrell Psalter, and they tend to be fairly naturalistic. Here is a fox and goose, and two more drawings of a duck and geese by different artists in the Luttrell Psalter. Top-right is a fox and duck from the Gorleston Psalter. They are very recognizable and noticeably different from the drawing that resembles a platypus:
Clearly, medieval illustrators drew geese a lot better than they drew crocodiles.
Other Possibilities
[source: Andreas Trepte, Wikipedia]
But maybe it’s a different bird from a duck or goose.
Another possibility is the Eurasian spoonbill. It has a spatulate bill… but the nostrils are near the head and the bill is much longer than the Luttrell creature. It doesn’t have a conspicuous eye-ring either. Also, the Luttrell drawing isn’t fully spoon-shaped—it’s closer to the spade-like platypus bill. And the spoonbill doesn’t have fur and claws.
Another possibility is the Talpanas or “mole duck”. This bird has a flat bill with nostrils slightly farther from the head than most. Here is a recreation of this fascinating bird:
This might seem like a plausible candidate, but the bird is native to the island of Kauai, and died out a long time ago. The chance of it making a migratory trip to the Eurasian continent were nil even before it went extinct, as this was a flightless bird. Unfortunately, when islands are colonized by new species (including humans), flightless birds are often the first to be eaten.
Like other birds, the Talpanas doesn’t have furry hocks. The furry, clawed platypus still seems like a better match.
What About a Platypus?
In contrast to ducks and geese, the platypus, a furry creature that lays eggs, has a broad bill, with nostrils near the end, and when the eyes are open, you can see a distinct ring of raised skin around the eye, with light-colored fur under and sometimes around the eye The fur pulls back from the bill, like the feathers on the mallard (and not like the Luttrell drawing), but if you look closely, you’ll see a few tufts sticking out to the side (easier to see on the right side in the picture). The platypus has distinctive claws.
[source: TwoWings, Wikipedia]
Or how about the echidna? It is cousin to the platypus and has a leathery snout (although not very wide), with nostrils near the end. When it is a baby, it sometimes has a light eye-ring or ridge. It’s not as similar as a platypus, but it does have distinctive claws. The echidna’s bill gets longer in proportion to its body as it grows, however, so it looks less like the Luttrell drawing as it matures.
This vaguely echidna-like drawing from the Hague KA 16 is actually a drawing of an oyster.
The echidna is more widely distributed than the platypus, and some species extend beyond Australia, so the odds of an echidna being seen in Europe are better than the platypus, but it still seems very unlikely that a baby echidna would be known in northern Europe before the 17th century.
If you stop here, some people might conclude that the drawing in the Luttrell Psalter is more like a platypus than echidna or bird. If they feel certain that it’s a platypus and it’s pointed out to them that the platypus wasn’t known in the west until recently, they might suggest that the Luttrell Psalter is a modern hoax (I’m not saying everyone would do this, but modern hoax theories are popular, so there are bound to be a few people who would make this suggestion).
Symbolic Interpretations
There are other possibilities. Marginal drawings sometimes illustrate fables, other times they represent theatrical characters, so the enigmatic creature might be more imaginative than real. There’s no guarantee there’s a counterpart in the real world, but since many masks were based on real animals, it remains an open question.
Medieval musician and dancers wearing animal masks, Bodleian Library MS Bodl 264.
If the mystery flat-billed animal were an 18th-century drawing, people would probably assume it was a platypus and not think any further. When you find something that seems to match, It’s easier to sit back in triumph than to question or discard your own discoveries.
On the surface, the platypus seems like a good candidate for the Luttrell drawing, probably better than a duck, but a lot of confirmatory evidence would be necessary before making a determination because the ID doesn’t fit what we know (so far) about medieval history.
Research isn’t just about finding things, it’s also about confirming them. That might take more time, but the journey is worth it.
I forgot to include this illustration when I posted the above blog on December 1. Tucked away in a margin on f69v of the Luttrell Psalter, there is a small drawing of our erstwhile “platypus” looking skyward from a hybrid body.
The eye is a little more naturalistic than the larger version, and the color is different, a simple buffy-orange (that was probably closer to red when originally applied), but the shape of the bill is mostly the same as the larger drawing, very flat and spatulate, with nostrils away from the head and a ridge down the center.
The transition from Judaism is marked in Christian history by the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ. These events are illustrated in ways that were surprisingly similar in distant lands such as Ethiopia, Armenia, and northern Germany. But there were also traditions specific to certain areas, so, I’ve been wondering if parallels exist in the VMS.
Ecclesia
Let’s look at Ecclesia. She personifies the church and shows up in medieval art a couple of centuries before she was paired with the second figure in this drama.
This is how to recognize her…
In these four interpretations Ecclesia carries a wine chalice (which holds the blood of Christ) or a monstrance, which in turn supports the “host”, a round bread-like object symbolizing the body of Christ. Note the cross and two lines on either side lightly inscribed on the host in the image on the right. Sometimes the name of Jesus is abbreviated around the image of a cross, sometimes a drawing of the Christ child is attached to the host (usually in Eucharist drawings).
In the two images on the left, Ecclesia holds a cross-staff. Sometimes she is nimbed, but often the halo is reserved for Mary and St. John and helps distinguish them from Ecclesia and her counterpart. Ecclesia is virtually always wearing a crown:
Ecclesia representing the Christian church, with common attributes such as the cross-staff, wine chalice or monstrance, and host.
In this VMS image, a nymph holds out a stick with a cross shape. It might be a tool (like a sighting stick) or a cross, or a cross-staff. We can’t tell if she’s wearing a crown. I’m beginning to think the nebuly-like parasol represents religious authority:
Maybe there are other elements on the folio to help identify her, but we’ll come back to that after we meet her partner…
Synagoga
Typically, Ecclesia is paired with another figure known as Synagoga. In a specific illustrative branch of the crucifixion, Ecclesia and Synagoga are paired on either side of Jesus on the cross.
Synagoga is always placed on the right and wears a blindfold (a Christian political symbol of her inability to see the message of the Messiah). She is frequently shown with a tablet in one hand, a broken staff, and sometimes a crown falling from her head. In contrast to Ecclesia, her posture is slouched and defeated:
Early depictions of the two women were not openly hostile but the intended message of the Christian religion being superior to pre-Christian beliefs was made iconographically clear.
In the next example, Ecclesia is shown in a variety of poses in the top panel. She stands tall and proud, carrying the torch that doubles as Christ’s blood in a wine goblet. On the left is a chalice with the crossed host, and a cross-staff.
In the panel below Ecclesia, Synagoga wears her customary blindfold (a reference to the veil of Moses). She looks tired and beleaguered and has lost her crown.
The odd “thing” in her hand on the far left might be hard to recognize unless you knew the story, but it is the head of a goat or ram, representing ancient rites of sacrifice. In her other hand is something resembling a bell (this is usually a tablet, but this odd detail might be important later). In this case, it is an overturned torch-chalice, like the one in the upper panel, except now it is hanging empty:
Illumination of a parable in the Speculum Humanae Salvationis of c. 1360 (Darmstadt). Below this panel, King Balthasar motions up at the women to make a point to Daniel, who stands nearby.
Postscript 17 March 2020: Here is essentially the same image (which I personally find distasteful now that I know what it means) from a c. 1420s Rheinland manuscript (Cod. pal. germ. 432):
This scene of the crucifixion shows the two women in context. Ecclesia catches Christ’s blood in her chalice while Synagoga, on the right, is losing her crown:
German Psalter with a pelican at the top feeding its babies with its own blood, workers nailing Christ to the cross, and Ecclesia and Synagoga flanking him on the left and right. The nimbed figures are Mary and Saint John.
In an earlier crucifixion from Hildesheim, Germany, Synagoga is identified with a conical hat, while Ecclesia, on the left, wears a crown:
Detail of the crucifixion, with Ecclesia and Synagoga in a cone-hat flanking Christ. Above are the sun and moon with faces. Hildesheim, c. 1170 [Courtesy of Getty Open Content Program]
An Armenian manuscript from the 14th century shows Ecclesia with crown and chalice, while Synagoga has had her crown lifted off by an angel. You can view this version on Getty Images.
Sculptural Media
The theme of Ecclesia and Synagoga appears in medieval in church architecture, as in this blindfolded Synagoga with tablet in one hand and a broken staff in the other:
Synagoga, Cathedral of Bamberg [Johannes Otto Först, public domain]
Are Ecclesia and Synagoga in the VMS?
Compared to many medieval manuscripts, the VMS is conspicuously nonviolent. There are smiling animals, clawless felines, and a notable lack of weapons. Yet one of the few images that has been interpreted as violent (at least by some) might, in fact, be our iconic pair.
In this drawing on f82r, the nymph on the left looks like she is poking the other one in the eye. But I’m not sure. Maybe she’s pointing at the eye or brushing away a tear. She is wearing a crown or some kind of fancy head-dress. Could she be Ecclesia indicating blindness?
I always thought the nymph on the right was carrying a pair of pincers, or a badly drawn compass. But what if this is Synagoga’s tablet, or an overturned empty torch or chalice as in the Darmstadt manuscript above? If it is an empty torch or tablet, it is artfully hidden in plain sight by not having a dark line across the bottom to distinguish it from the water:
I’m really not sure whether the nymph on the left is pointing or poking out an eye—blinding or indicating blindness in the other nymph. The only somewhat aggressive version of Ecclesia and Synagoga I’ve found so far is this one, by Pisano.
On the left, an angel escorts Ecclesia with her chalice toward the cross. On the right, another angel escorts the aging Synagoga away from the action:
The Crucifixion by Giovani Pisano, c. 1300 [Jollyroger, Wikimedia Commons, CC 3.0]
It’s not exactly on the same level of aggression as poking out an eye. Assuming for a moment that the nymph on the right might be Synagoga, can we confirm it by examining the other elements?
Is the “thing” in her hand an empty torch? Or is it a tablet?
If it’s a tablet, it’s a direct reference to Moses in the Old Testament. When Moses was a baby, he was set adrift in a basket so he would not be killed by the king. Could the nymph’s “skirt” be a basket? Is this why her hand looks like it’s inside the rim instead of outside? Is she standing in the river where Moses was found?
Has the illustrator combined Moses and Synagoga, male and female references to the Jewish faith, into one nymph? Is this why several of the VMS nymphs are sexually ambiguous (because they represent more than one thing)?
We know that Ecclesia is usually depicted on the left wearing a crown, Synagoga on the right without a crown (or in the process of losing it) and the nymphs happen to follow the same pattern.
Context
What about the other elements on the page?
I like K. Gheuen’s suggestion that the figures across the top of this folio might represent a story from Ovid. Most medieval scholars were familiar with classical history and myths, including Herodatus, Virgil, Ovid, Hesiod, and others, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be Philomela’s story. The part that Gheuens quoted about the king seizing her hair and using it to tie her hands behind her back is especially convincing:
I couldn’t find a better explanation for the series, not even in Bible stories. It’s true that Eve was often drawn with long hair, and the spindle became her avatar when she was expelled from the garden, but I couldn’t find a good explanation for the other figures in relation to Eve.
Would the creator of the VMS have transitioned from Ovid at the top of the folio to Biblical references in the middle? I’m a bit uncomfortable with that idea, but given that the story changes from thread and spindles at the top to water and matched pairs of nymphs in the middle, maybe it’s possible.
So, moving down to the center of the page, we have the eye-poking nymph and a long river linking two nymphs on the right who look like they might be the same pair of nymphs repeated (this would not be unusual in medieval drawings)—the main difference is that the nymph on the far right has no attributes:
The nymphs on the bottom also look like the nymphs on the middle-left repeated, except that they are now shown separately, in elevated loges, rather than standing together in a river. The nymph on the left is holding another of the mystery items (or possibly three mystery items) but it doesn’t look like a host or chalice.
Can these two figures be found elsewhere in the VMS?
If we move to an earlier section of the quire, there is a nymph on 70r with the same kind of headdress as the nymph on 82r, and her counterpart is also like the nymph on the right on 82r—she’s slightly heavier, has no crown-like head-dress like the nymph on the left. In the earlier image, their arms cross.
If this is Ecclesia and Synagoga, might this symbolize the beginning of the transition from Judaism to Christianity?
More Instances of Possibly the Same Nymph
The nymph with the fancy headdress shows up again on 79v and this version really caught my attention because she’s on a wide elevated loge holding a ring, and she’s lying down. She’s not wrapped in a shroud, so I don’t think she’s dead. Is this a marriage bed?
If this nymph is Ecclesia, then the picture fits, because Ecclesia was expressly described in medieval literature as the bride of God.
Above her is the nymph holding out the cross (possibly a cross-staff?). The cross-staff was one of Ecclesia’s attributes, but the celestial parasol is hiding the top of her head, so it’s hard to know if it’s the same nymph.
The nymph on the lower rung is drawn more like the one that might be Synagoga and doesn’t have a head-dress. The position on the lower rung would fit with how she was treated iconographically in Christian literature—slouched, defeated, or in a lower panel as in the Darmstadt illustration.
Is there a larger story being told across a series of folios? The story of a transition from the Old Testament to the New, from the old religions to Christianity, with Ecclesia, the bride of God becoming the dominant nymph and expressing anger that Synagoga doesn’t want to “see” the Christian point of view?
What happens on the rest of the folio? Can it help us confirm or deny any of this?
Below the nymph with the ring and the one without a crown is the famous wide-mouthed fish in a pond full of strange critters:
I’ve always been reluctant to interpret this as the story of Jonah. For one thing, it just seems too easy. For another, some of the critters don’t look like sea monsters (except for the giant fish). The Creation cycle often includes a variety of animals, but not a giant fish (and this image doesn’t fit creation stories as well as some of the other drawings of the VMS).
If it’s two narratives rolled into one (if the imagery on the left is a different place or time from that on the right), it would be even harder to guess what it represents. I’m not sure what to make of it, but let’s see if it might be Jonah…
If the nymph in the fish’s mouth is Synagoga (note how the uncrowned nymph in each of these panels has shorter, colored hair and a slightly bigger belly and hips to distinguish her from the one with the longer hair and fancy head-dress), then perhaps the Jonah story is appropriate.
When a storm boils up at sea, Jonah’s companions question him, suspiciously trying to determine who is responsible for unleashing God’s wrath on the tossing boat, but Jonah answers quite simply as a God-fearing man, “I am a Hebrew”. What could encapsulate the identity of Synagoga more succinctly than, “I am a Hebrew”?
Classical Stories Mixed with Bible Passages?
It seemed strange to me that the VMS might mix classical history (e.g., Herodatus, Ovid, etc.) with Bible stories… until I came across Speculum Humane Salvationis, which freely combines them.
In the Speculum Humane Salvationis, which was popular in the 15th century, the story of Adam and Eve, the Deluge, and Anna and the Annuciation are immediately followed by the less-familiar prophetic vision of Astyages, the last king of Media. Astyages dreamed of a vine growing from the belly of his daughter Mandane, a vine that would spawn a boy (Cyrus) to challenge his grandfather for the empire. In a Persian version, Cyrus was suckled by a dog, similar to the infants Romulus and Remus.
Our information about Astyages comes almost entirely from Herodatus. The Bible includes only this one brief reference from the Book of Daniel:
And king Astyages was gathered to his fathers, and Cyrus the Persian received his kingdom.
Connections?
The idea of a vine growing out of Mandane’s belly to symbolize her son’s growth and eventual possession of the empire is echoed in the story of Jesse, in Isaiah 11. Jesse is shown lying down, at the base of the folio, with a vine growing from his “root” (it usually grows from his chest or belly).
This symbol of biblical genealogy came to be known as the Jesse tree.
A Jesse Tree next to a picture of Madonna and Child, from the Amiens region, c. late 15th century [BNF L’Arsenal MS 662]
I’ve always wondered if the clothed figures around the bull in the VMS zodiac-figures section are related to genealogy. Could it be a VMS version of a Jesse tree?
Jesse trees came in many different formats, some almost menorah-shaped (a reference to the tree of life). Often the figures are shown only from the waist up. But the main difference between a Jesse tree and the VMS drawing above is not the absence of a tree, but the absence of Jesse himself, who is usually shown as a man with a beard under the figures, dreaming.
So perhaps this is not a Jesse Tree, but there might be one somewhere in the VMS, just as Jacob’s ladder might be included (e.g., the image of nymphs one on top of the other within a green “waterfall”).
I have much more information on this line of thought, but it’s far too much for one blog. I will have to split it into two sections.
Summary
I am beginning to believe that some of the VMS nymphs appear more than once in several places, acting out a story that stretches across multiple sections or folios. There is a certain consistency to the way some of the pairs have been drawn.
I am not entirely sure that the pair described in this blog is Ecclesia and Synagoga, but I think it’s possible and I will discuss this more in Part 2. I also think it’s possible that more than one person might be represented by a single nymph, but this is harder to ascertain, so I will tackle that after some of the easier questions have been solved.
This is yet another idea I had for the VMS “map”. It may not be the best one, I’m still partial to a couple I’ve posted before, but Christian themes are getting attention at the moment, so I decided to add it because it is based on a different interpretation for the flame-like shapes inside the VMS mountain.
Most of the time I think of the wavy lines inside the VMS “crater” as flames or water but it has also occurred to me that they might be teeth or celestial waves. For example, in this nativity scene, rather than a halo, there are wavy rays in a rough mandorla shape emanating from the Christ child:
Wavy emanations instead of a halo [Arsenal MS 1175 c. 1510]
If the wavy lines in the shape that looks like a mountain on the VMS “map” are celestial rays, rather than fire or water, then there’s another location that might fit the “map”…
So let’s assume for the duration of this blog that the toothlike curves indicate some special status.
The lines in the VMS crater don’t aim outward, they aim toward the center, so perhaps the mountain itself is a sacred place (or a hollow within it). In this nativity relief carving, the archway rays point inward, so the direction of the rays is context dependent.
Many mountains were considered sacred in Pagan times and the transition from Paganism to Christianity occurred gradually, so there are Christian shrines built into hillsides, and numerous nativity scenes drawn within the framework of a mountain:
Christian nativity scene framed within a grotto-like mountain setting. Mosaic by Pietro Cavallini, Rome, 1296 [Courtesy of Wikioo.org]
The Cavallini mosiac is modeled in the same general form as an even earlier work, also from Italy, that includes the mountain frame plus a baptismal bath (these elements were also copied into Greek and Russian works of the 15th century):
Nativity mosaic with mountain framework (possibly a hold-over from Pagan beliefs) and baptismal bath, Capella Palatina, Palermo, c. 1150 [Courtesy of The Yorck Project, Wikimedia]
The Sacred Grotto
In this image, there is a windy road leading to a crater-like mountain. At the top of another hill are Mary and child resting in a garden-like setting with many plants, birds, and a deer (in another version of this painting, Patinier paints the garden like a small farm):
Flight to Egypt by Joachim Patinier, c. 1510 [Jean Louis Mazieres, CC 2.0, Wikipedia]
To the left and right are water, little roads and bridges (the city in the distance might be Marseille). Near the taller mountain are a couple of smaller ones, with traces of castles at the top.
Here is another version of the Sainte-Baume mountain by the same artist. Note the windy road, and the celestial spirit hovering over the edifice. This may represent ascension, or Mary elevated daily by angels:
Detail of painting of Sainte-Baume by Joachim Patinier illustrating the sacred grotto.
In other words, in thematic content, the paintings of Sainte-Baume have many features in common with the VMS “map”. Here is a snippet of the portion that resembles a mountain connected to a windy path:
Patinier has chosen to show the village as domes, towers, and connections to nearby hillocks with small bridges. Could this be the same location represented by the VMS central rotum?
This particular series of paintings is based on a location in Provençe, the sacred grotto of Ste. Baume, which is still active as a pilgrimage site. Could the garden-like rotum on the bottom-right be the resting place of Mary on her journey?
Ghibelline merlons, as are found on the lower part of the VMS “map” were generally associated with Lombardy/Northern Italy, but they apparently also extended a short way into Provençe in the Middle Ages. I don’t know, however, if there were any in Marseille, which had its roots as a Greek colony.
Mary’s Journey
Stories vary, but one of the stories is that Mary of Magdalene fled persecution in a small boat and landed on the shores of Marseille. From there she traveled to the mountain of Ste. Baume where she took refuge in the grotto and made it her home.
Please note, there is considerable confusion over the different Marys in the Bible. Some say Mary Magdalene was the mother of Jesus. Others say Mary the Virgin, Mary Magdalene, and Mary of Egypt were all different people, and still others clearly describe “Mary the Magdalene of Egypt” as one person, but separate from Mary the mother of Jesus (I have seen “Mary the Magdalene of Egypt” written as though Mary Magdalene and Mary of Egypt were the same person in 15th-century manuscripts).
Plus, Mary Magdalene of the Gospels and Mary, the sister of Martha (who is said to have fled with Martha), may have been different people but were also sometimes considered the same.
Some of these divergent viewpoints are based on copying errors, but there were also differing opinions on how to interpret biblical passages, and different accounts by supposed historians. So keep in mind that sometimes the same person is illustrated standing next to herself, comic-book style, to indicate two different periods in her life, and other times they are two different Marys.
For the purpose of this blog, I will be referring to Mary of Magdalene who is said to have washed Jesus’s feet with her tears and a jar of ointment, the Mary who witnessed the resurrection and subsequently fled (with her supposed sister Martha), not the Mary who was Jesus’s mother (or the numerous other Marys in the Bible). I also mention Mary of Egypt who is often confused with Mary Magdalene. Be aware that the Mary who washed Jesus’s feet may not have been Mary Magdalene, even though many people in medieval times believed she was.
Now back to the sacred grotto…
Here is a postcard commemorating Ste. Baume, with Mary at the top, with three of her attributes, a skull, crucifix, and a chalice. She is flanked by two angels on puffs of clouds, with the Ste. Baume mountain and grotto buildings below. It gives us a hint of how the pilgrimage site may have looked in the 19th century:
Sometimes Mary’s chalice is quite ornate (as in carvings in the region of Champeaux), similar to some of the domed containers in the VMS small-plants section. In other images, it is quite simple. If you go to this link, you will see a great variety of containers held in Mary’s hand.
Her hairstyles vary, as well, depending on when the image was created (and by whom), but I thought readers might like to see this version of the hair and chalice (there are numerous nymphs with braids in the VMS), and this image on the right, with Mary in the wilderness completely enveloped by her hair. Both Mary Magdalene and Mary of Egypt are said to have wandered in the wilderness, and both are often shown with very long hair.
In fact, there are even more Marys. In this image, we have three Marys and their husbands: 1) Mary (wife of Joseph) , 2) Mary (wife or daughter of Clopas), and 3) Mary Salome (mother of John, the Evangelist):
Mary, Mary, and Mary (different ones this time) with their respective husbands [courtesy of British Library Royal MS 2 B VII, c. 1310s]
But, confusingly, there is a fourth Mary in this illumination… Mary the Virgin is pictured separately above Mary and Joseph (almost as though they are different people), with the dove (Holy Spirit?) between her and a man with a halo (one who is drawn differently from Joseph):
It’s easy to say, “Oh well, it’s just another point in time, when Mary became pregnant with Jesus” before she and Joseph started doing the hootchy kootchy, but you can’t just assume these things, you have to read the text and study the imagery in context with the other Mary stories.
In other words, there were numerous Marys, and some perceived them as different people, others as the same. Even if they agreed that it was Mary the Magdalene who fled to Provençe and she was different from Mary of Egypt, there were still different narratives about where Mary Magdalene actually went and what happened to her once she got there.
How This Relates to the VMS
Unfortunately, if there is Christian imagery under the surface of the Voynich Manuscript, and if any of it relates to Mary, the profusion of stories about her whereabouts and her physical characteristics (as seen through medieval eyes) will make it harder to match up VMS imagery with any specific account. Plus, there are several VMS nymphs with very long hair.
In this image, Mary Magdalene is shown with a chalice and Mary of Egypt with very long hair:
Mary Magdalene, Mary of Egypt enveloped in hair, St. Margaret, and Martyr [The Queen Mary Psalter, courtesy of British Library, Royal MS 2 B VII]
It’s possible that Mary Magdalene and Mary of Egypt are confused because both were described as sinful women who were cleansed of their sins.
Here Mary (this should be Mary of Egypt) has long hair and a hair coat:
Zosimas giving hairy Mary of Egypt his cloak. A year later, he is said to have later found her dead in the wilderness [courtesy of British Library Yates Thompson MS 3].
The hair-suit is an iconic way of indicating someone who is living wild, separate from civilization. Not every illustrator covered Mary in hair. Some of the Greek manuscripts show Mary naked.
In this illustration, the idea of the hair suit relating to wilderness is made stronger by surrounding Mary with monkeys:
Hairy Mary of Egypt with monkeys [Courtesy of BL Royal MS 10 E IV]
Relating Mary to the VMS “Map” Folio
Keeping in mind that there are many Marys and sometimes their stories overlap, let’s focus on the boat story of Mary Magdalene, the Mary who is most often credited with witnessing the resurrection, and fleeing with her siblings to a distant shore.
The following image combines many elements of the flight of Mary. She traveled by boat to Marseilles, where she continued on foot through forests and farms and moved into the mountain of Ste. Baume. In this instance, she’s not wearing a wilderness style “hair suit”. Instead, she is covered in her own long hair during her daily ride with angels:
Mary Magdalen with long hair, lifted by angel. Below is the boat in which she fled, and the Ste. Baume mountain grotto in which she lived before wandering in the wilderness. [courtesy of the British Library, Add MS 34294]
Here is a less elaborate drawing from the early 14th century. Mary (of Egypt) is holding the three loaves of bread she took into the wilderness, and nearby is a boat:
Mary with three loaves approaching her get-away boat [BL Royal MS 10 E IV]
The story continues with Mary’s hair growing very long to convey her lengthy stay in the wilderness. The three loaves are nearby to make it clear that this is Mary (if you didn’t know the story behind it, you might mistake them for stones or tablets):
Mary is shown beneath a tree, among the birds and boars (this garden-and-animals theme occurs in numerous Mary illustrations):
After several decades, Mary is so engulfed in hair, she is almost unrecognizable:
Mary’s time is almost up, she meets a passing saint and she dies in the wilderness one or three years later. In some accounts, she receives last communion back at her cave and in still others, she receives last communion at the river Jordan:
The following example, from the Life of Mary, focuses on Zosimus giving Mary of Egypt a cloak, as she looks out through the crags of her grotto. Even though the cloak is usually associated with Mary of Egypt, the fresco is in the Magdalene Chapel in Assisi:
Magdalene Chapel, San Francesco, Assisi, c. 1320s. The image is no doubt the result of confusion between Mary Magdalene and Mary of Egypt. [Giotto di Bondone, Wikipedia]
When I was pondering the figure at the top of folio 76v, I wondered whether this long-haired lady with the plant might represent Mary in her holy grotto (the shape of the arch-like texture is somewhat like an altar). Mary is shown with a halo and a stalk of grain in a Lombardic manuscript by the Master of Monza. Mary of Egypt was usually shown with three loaves, but sometimes with a sheaf of grain.
The VMS nymph is a bit thin and disheveled compared to many of the other nymphs. Could this be wilderness Mary?
According to one version, Mary asked Zosimus (also called Maximin) to meet her on the banks of the Jordan River so that he could grant her Holy Communion. In the lower part of this folio, a long-haired nymph appears to be stepping into water and swimming. Could this be the River Jordan?
I’m not sure what to make of the second nymph, the one holding a red-striped and dotted “thing”. The “thing” looks vaguely like a loaded spindle (very vaguely), but could it be a cross between a spindle and a rolled-up cloak (with thread being the unifying idea)? I’m not confident about the ID of the strange red object, and the nymph holding it doesn’t have long hair, so I’m not sure how it ties in with the drawings around it (assuming there is a connection), so I’ll ruminate a while longer.
The figure in the top right of the folio is ambiguous, possibly male, and may relate to what is happening on the facing folio (unbound) rather than what is on this folio, but if it is male, maybe it’s Zosimus. His crypt is said to have sheltered the tomb of Mary Magdalene in Provençe (which again is a bit of a stretch since Mary of Egypt was born quite some time after Mary Magdalene).
Links Between the Iconography of Mary and the Passion of Christ
I have something of particular interest for those who have been following recent developments in Voynich research…
At the Victoria and Albert Museum, there is an embroidery of Mary Magdalene surrounded by her attributes (ointment chalice, crucifix, skull, buildings in the distance) and yet the border includes implements from the Arma Christi. The two kinds of imagery are not usually combined, and when they are, Jesus is usually the focal figure. In this one, Mary dominates the frame and Jesus is not present.
The embroidery is not medieval—it is from the 17th century and I can only post a thumbnail, but you can click here for the Victoria & Albert Museum to see it full-sized. Note that there are 16 coins (it doesn’t have to be 30 as long as the meaning is clear). There is no helical rope around the flagellation pole, but it immediately made me wonder, is there an earlier image of Mary Magdalene together with Arma Christi implements that inspired this one? Could this combination of themes be relevant to the VMS?
Are there Arma Christi narratives encoded in the plants as discussed in the previous blog, with the story of Mary Magdalen included elsewhere?
Another Look at the VMS “Map” Folio
So coming back to the “map” folio, is it possible to relate some of the features to Mary’s journey?
Ste. Baume is a very hilly area, with a rippled geology that would be difficult to tread on foot, so the paths are mostly to the side of the many peaks and valleys shown in this aerial photo. These corrugated hills are reminiscent of the VMS escarpments. When traveling on foot, one would see their regular rise and fall and possibly some of the bands of color:
The corrugated hills of Sainte-Baume in shades of dark and light materials. [Aerial photo courtesy of Adrian Tync, Wikimedia].
There are textured escarpments along the pathway on the VMS “map” folio that connect to a feature that looks like a mountain. Could they be the corrugated hills of Ste. Baume?
The inner grotto, where Mary lived before venturing into the wilderness, has a modern shrine, which was probably much simpler in the Middle Ages:
Shrine to Mary in the grotto of Sainte-Baume [courtesy of M. Disdero, Wikipedia]
Provençe is also home to bathing pools and waterfalls, a theme that occurs in numerous VMS folios:
Provençe is known for some of its round towers (in contrast to the more common square ones). The VMS tower-in-the-hole is also round, which might have have been inspired by architecture in Lombardy, Pisa, or Provençe.
Going back to my early idea about Jerusalem, the Mary Magdalene church, built on the Mount of Olives, looks somewhat like the onion-dome towers in the VMS central rotum, but it was built in the 19th century and the previous building was a single tower with a less rounded dome:
Church of Mary Magdalene on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem [public domain]The Mount of Olives in the early 18th century, engraving by Calmet [public domain]
I’m inclined to believe that the “towers” in the central VMS rotum are a combination of containers (possibly spice containers) and architectural towers, rather than a drawing of an actual building. They might represent towers in the metaphorical sense, or even a specific building in a vague kind of way, but I doubt if it’s meant to be taken literally—towers don’t usually have feet.
Summary
So is it possible the VMS “map” represents Mary’s journey or landmarks to the pilgrimage site?
This is pretty speculative, but I still think the VMS “map” might be drawn on two levels—a corporeal level and a spiritual level. I’ve ghosted out the spiritual level for this example.
Now assuming the four corners are more literal than the others, perhaps the bottom right (which I thought years ago might be the garden of Gethsemane) is the farm-like landscape shown in Mary’s journeys. The top-right, with the “big water” might be the port of Marseille, where Mary’s battered boat came ashore. The top-left seems like a reasonable guess for the mountain grotto where she lived for a time, and the bottom-left might be the various arms of the Durance river:
This is what Marseille looked like in the 16th century. Note the rows of windmills—the patterns in the 2nd and 8th rota on the VMS “map” have always reminded me of fountains, water wheels, and windmills:
Detail of colorized version of 1575 map of Marseille published in Cologne. Note the castles on the various hilltops, and the gardens and farms nearby. There is also a square bastion on one of the islands, and a semicircular breakwater.
Marseille (Massilia) from the Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493, with numerous portals for the Marseille canals. The image is not necessarily accurate but gives a feeling for the time.
On modern roads, it is about an hour’s drive from Marseille to Sainte-Baume. In medieval times, it was probably three weeks journey by foot.
There are numerous possibilities for the VMS map… Jerusalem, a predecessor to Villa d’Este, Naples/Baia/Salerno, Tuscany, Venice, Rhodes, and numerous others, but I thought I would add a biblical journey so there’s at least one mythical map on the list.
Back in July 2016 I posted a short blog about some of my early ideas for the VMS “map”. My favorites in the early years were Jerusalem (this was actually my first idea); Villa d’Este; the Naples/Sicily volcanic area; the natural-spa areas in northern Italy/Germany/Czech; and one I haven’t disclosed yet because I want to write it up properly with pictures and I haven’t had time to do a proper job.
There are others, but these are the ones I particularly liked and spent considerable time investigating.
1) Jerusalem
I spent countless hours studying old paintings, engravings, postcards, and aerial photographs of Jerusalem. My reasons were simple:
The top-left rotum in the VMS “map” is oval (olive-shaped) and looks like a mountain (I thought it might be the Mount of Olives),
the center rotum has lots of towers (the traditional position and way to depict Jerusalem),
there was a tradition of building tombs into the hills next to paths, which means that some of these old tombs look like towers in holes (you have to look at very old images to see this because all the paths have been widened since medieval times and they look less like they are in holes), and
pilgrimages to Jerusalem were customary and thus a journal-style “map” with landmarks would be appropriate to the time.
After studying Jerusalem so extensively that I could walk around it in my head, I was beginning to think I might be wrong or at least that I should not get too invested in one idea, and that I should take some time to investigate other ideas.
One of the next items on my list was Villa d’Este, which is an astonishing piece of medieval/renaissance hydraulic engineering, partly inspired by old Roman ruins and earlier water gardens that were not quite so elaborate. The engineering was so advanced that sensors would detect the presence of visitors and turn on the sprinklers to give them an unexpected shower.
2) Villa d’Este
Even though I was worried that the construction of Villa d’Este was too late to have inspired the VMS (even back in 2008 I pegged the VMS in my mind as 14th or 15th century, mainly for palaeological reasons), I thought if I learned everything I could about it, maybe I could discover an earlier water garden with the same properties that might be connected to the VMS. Here is what intrigued me about Villa d’Este:
It is overtly Pagan, filled with pools, fountains, and statues of nymphs, echoing the profusion of nymphs and water in the VMS. Remarkably, it was built by a Christian cardinal who showed no remorse whatsoever when his colleagues criticized him for his choice of Pagan themes.
There is a spiral staircase in the main structure (and a spiral on the VMS “map”).
It has many topological features in common with the “map” folio and VMS pool folios, including waterfalls, fountains, natural pools used for swimming, a winding path leading to the estate with an ancient round Pagan temple, and many other features that seem to match the VMS drawings.
There is an extensive herb/kitchen garden and surrounding gardens, which might have been documented at some point in time.
In other words, some connection with the Villa d’Este or its predecessors could explain numerous features on the VMS “map” and also the many pool drawings and nymphs in other parts of the manuscript, and possibly even the plant folios. You can almost chart a path around the estate lands and match them up with the landmarks on the VMS “map” folio.
I also spent time investigating the d’Este family tree to see if water gardens existed in the earlier generations of the family.
I became so familiar with Villa d’Este from photos, postcards, paintings, Google Earth and aerial photos, that I could walk around this in my head, as well, and I was reluctant to let go of the idea except that I had another one that seemed equally intriguing…
3) Naples/Baia/Sicily/Salerno Volcanic Region
This is one of my favorites. I’ve blogged about it several times. After becoming so familiar with Villa d’Este that I felt I had been there, I dove into a more in-depth study of the Naples/Salerno/Baia region. It caught my attention for the following reasons:
Vesuvius has an eye-shaped crater (similar to the “mountain” top-left on the VMS map). The wavy lines in the eye-shape might be flames, thus indicating a volcano, or they might be water filling in a dormant crater, or they could represent the famous Sulphurata/Solfatara, Campi Flegrei, all of which are present in the Naples region.
Medieval medical students from areas like Paris and Heidelberg frequently spent part of their university career in Naples or Salerno studying plant medicine and astrology, and might document the journey as a map.
The baths of Pozzuoli were located here (until they were destroyed by an eruption in 1538) and might account for the bathing nymphs in other parts of the VMS.
I have been to Naples. Unfortunately, it was an ill-fated trip. On the day I arrived, the museum staff went on strike and judging by events later in the day, it was not likely to end that day or any day soon.
There are numerous other commonalities with Naples that I’ve already covered and I won’t repeat here because the direction of this blog is related to more recent events. But before getting to that, there is one more location that I studied before moving on to other subjects…
4) Rome
I thought the way the VMS rota were organized, in separate circles connected by pathways, might be inspired by the hills of Rome. Rome is sometimes in the center of mappae mundi, rather than Jerusalem, and we have the saying, “All roads lead to Rome”, so I thought it might be possible to relate the VMS map to this area.
After some effort, I couldn’t get the topological features to fit as well as they did to Villa d’Este or Naples/Baia, but it seemed worthy of consideration. I tried the same with Paris, Venice, Genoa, the Flanders coast, and the Po estuary, with mixed results. They didn’t fit as well as Naples.
5) Natural Spas
In Greece, Italy, Croatia, Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, and numerous other places, there are natural spas with thermal pools, waterfalls, green pools, blue pools, grottoes and numerous features in common with the VMS.
I was overwhelmed.
I discovered there might be hundreds or thousands of areas that could match the VMS map if it documented a natural-spa area. This was bewildering, and very difficult to investigate because the topology of natural spas in the Middle Ages is not well documented. Plus, many of them have been over-built with modern spas and the original geology altered.
I gave up. The task was too difficult, so I confined my studies to a few of the ones that were popular retreats for medieval nobility, one of those being Tuscany (described in a previous blog due to the marble escarpments that look similar to features in the VMS “map”). I haven’t had time to write up the others.
I’m not going to describe #6 yet because it deserves a blog of its own and I don’t want to disclose the location until I can do a good job of it.
On to the point of this blog…
Recently, I’ve had to re-evaluate my assumptions about the VMS. The process of re-organizing my thoughts started more than three years ago, but it took a long time for the mounting evidence to convince me I might be wrong about the “non-Christian” nature of the VMS…
The Impetus of the Mystery Critter
In March 2016, I was inspired by comments by René Zandbergen and K. Gheuens to consider that the critter on f79v might be a golden fleece. The curved posture was the key feature provoking my interest. The blog is here.
Then in April 2016, when I was writing about Theriac, I thought, what other possibilities are there?
Perhaps the head-down posture and “scales” of the mystery critter might be a reference to the castoreum beaver, an animal that shows up regularly in medieval herbal manuscripts and which is often drawn very badly (it usually looks more like a dog, a deer, or a platypus than a beaver, and is frequently drawn with a scaly tail). Here is a link to that blog.
In other words, I was trying to think of as many explanations as possible and then hoped to find other elements on the folio confirming one of the guesses.
So what did we have? Armadillo, Pangolin, Sheep, Fleece, Beaver, etc., and somewhere along the line I also suggested an aardvark (no one seemed to like that idea but I’ll keep it on the list because they confused pangolins and aardvarks in the Middle Ages due to their similar habits and habitats).
Then I went through medieval imagery for each animal, one-by-one, trying to figure out how each one was traditionally drawn and why, and collected as many examples as I could find.
By 2018, I had more than 2,000 medieval images of sheep. That might seem like a good starting point, but the ones that related best to the VMS were the ones I had been reluctant to collect.
Baaaaaaaa…d
The irony (which will become clear further down) is that I didn’t collect most of the Christian-themed sheep I came across, even though they were in the majority, because I didn’t think the VMS was a Christian-themed manuscript. About 70% of my samples were from secular or zodiac sources (some of which are only incidental embellishments in Christian manuscripts and were not directly illustrating Bible stories).
Then came the eye-opener, which hit me sometime in late 2018, and which I blogged about in April 2019 (the “zoomer” post I lost and had to repost) and another in June 2019… the imagery surrounding the mystery critter (cloudband “cushion”, lines, etc.). Like it or not, the critter’s milieu was more similar to Christian imagery than the others.
This took me by surprise. I thought, “Could I have been wrong all this time? A dozen years of studying this manuscript and I’ve been discounting the possibility of Christian content.”
Of course then I kicked myself because I TRY to search with as few assumptions as possible.
So where is this leading?
It’s leading to interpretation. But first, let’s get short-sightedness out of the way first…
Many images get posted on the Voynich.ninja forum. Much of it is not new to me. I have more than a 300,000 plant images catalogued and accessible at the touch of a finger (I was interested in plants before I learned about the VMS). I also have more than 20,000 medieval plant images, many of which I can now recognize and identify on sight. I have related these to images of real plants so I can automatically display them side-by-side sorted by date and illustrative tradition. Here, for example, is a very small portion of the information I have for Agrimonia:
I have more than 550 complete zodiac series (almost 7,000 images) and thousands upon thousands of medieval and ancient animal images (dragons, sheep, bulls, snakes, fish, etc.), thousands of pictures of medieval maps, merlons, towers, castles, and escarpments. I’m not even going to try to count them but I had to buy another several-terabytes drive to accommodate the overflow.
Despite this penchant for collecting, I am fairly selective and realize now that I zoomed past a lot of Christian imagery because I didn’t think it was relevant.
The Sea Change
So what changed my mind?
It wasn’t any one thing, it was a pattern that was emerging…
I mentioned Add ms 37049‘s humble drawing style (similar to the VMS) on the forum in February 2018, but I didn’t read it until a few months later. That’s when I realized the picture of Jerusalem had been extracted from the preceding mappa mundi rather than being included or repeated as a separate drawing. That is not common.
And that was an “Aha!” moment.
I thought to myself, “Is this the way the VMS is created? Have they taken things that usually go together and split them into separate chunks? Is this why the VMS is so hard to understand?”
Looking for Confirmation… Could it Be True?
As soon as that thought crossed my mind I went to the cosmological section and looked for a Creation theme and this section (of which I enclose a portion) seems like a possible candidate. Many people try to identify this as individual stars or constellations, but I think it might be more metaphysical than physical:
But I wasn’t sure I could precisely pin it down without more study, so early in 2019, I tried another folio. I re-evaluated f86v and realized, after a few days, that the drawing wasn’t so strange after all….
The VMS is drawn very differently from traditional manuscripts, but the themes of things falling out of the sky, birds, double tors (possibly representing the pillars of the sky), earthquakes, people hiding, and the world erupting into chaotic movement were common in biblical stories and apocalypse manuscripts, and I was able to find them in classical literature also, so I posted this blog in March 2019 with a sampling of possible interpretations, including one from the Book of Revelation.
I didn’t want to get locked into one idea, which is why I posted four ideas, but the one from Revelation matched quite well. That’s when I really started wondering if I had been wrong about the VMS. Maybe there was Christian imagery, after all. Maybe. (I was still reluctant to believe it.)
But whether I believed it or not, I have to admit, it changed the way I collected imagery from that point on, and it goosed me into trying harder to determine if the mystery critter might be a lamb rather than a pangolin or beaver.
The Best is Yet to Come…
So coming up to the present, things suddenly started happening fast.
K. Gheuens pointed out that helical twining could be found in medieval Arma Christi images (the same kind of twining as in the VMS Oak and Ivy plant).
Here is an example of an Arma Christi illumination with helical twining on the pole that was used to bind Jesus:
And this detail from a Russian Arma Christi illustrates that the number of coins doesn’t have to be 30 (there are 28 in this drawing):
I was thinking out loud on the forum when I wondered whether the major holy days might be encoded right into the VMS plants:
“Could a subset of the plants in the VMS (I’m thinking specifically the big plants and mostly the fanciful ones) represent a visual calendar? A way of expressing something about the most important holy days that was maybe tied in with what they believed about plants?”
And then, in the process of discussing this, and the mystery critter (is it the lamb of God?), mandorlas, sacred hearts, celestial flyers (“zoomers”), and poles in the Arma Christi in medieval manuscripts, K. Gheuens did some research on mandorlas and posted this blog, which I think is a must-read for every Voynich researcher.
Because I had also been researching mandorlas, I knew almost instantly that Gheuen’s blog was going to be about the imagery on f17r (note the almond-shaped vagina-like red splotches in the root of the plant), but Gheuens went so far beyond, you could almost call it a bombshell in terms of our thinking about the VMS.
Read the blog and pay special attention to the analogies between some of the more stylized plants (ones that are hard to identify) and the various implements of the Arma Christi. This isn’t just about one plant drawing, it’s about a group of plant drawings. If he’s right, it will be the first time someone has convincingly discerned the meaning and inspiration behind a group of the less naturalistic plants.
As an aside, suns and moons with faces are generally associated with alchemical manuscripts from the later 15th and 16th centuries, and are rare in early medieval manuscripts, but they show up in Arma Christi images, as well.
We’re Not Finished Yet
Now we get to the part about interpretation. It’s one thing to say, hey, I found a picture of a tree-like thing and things twining around it in helical fashion (and this happens very frequently in Voynich research when images are posted without any follow-up to confirm or deny whether the idea has legs). It’s quite another to say, hey, here is a pattern of several illustrations that might have a cohesive explanation.
This is why I am taking Gheuen’s idea seriously. Because there might be a strong enough pattern to help us figure out if he’s right. Plus, the Arma Christi caught my attention because it has talismanic implications, as well, which might tie in with the strange writing in the VMS.
So, in that vein, I’d like to add a few more images that might relate to this in a way I never expected…
Back to the Future
Remember how I said at the beginning of this blog that I mostly gave up on the idea of Jerusalem being the object of the VMS map and moved on to other ideas? I couldn’t quite make it work—at least not as a strip-map or as traditional cartography. Maybe I need to look at it again, but in a slightly different way…
Maybe it’s not quite a map of Jerusalem, maybe it’s Jerusalem in the narrative sense. Take for example this picture, which no doubt has been mentioned in the VMS literature at some point for having a plant with twining, but what especially provoked me to drag it out of my files was the story behind it…
This painting illustrates the Betrayal of Christ (a theme related to the Passion of Christ which is, in turn, related to the Arma Christi) and includes Jerusalem, possibly Babylon (it was frequently included in mappae mundi in the Middle Ages), the Mount of Olives AND a tree with helical twining (the point is that they are all together in one painting):
The Betrayal of Christ, Bartolomeo di Tommaso, c. 1440s [Gwynne Andrews Fund, The Met]
The painting is part of an altar triptych that illustrates Christ being betrayed and arrested, and the mourning of the death of Christ.
“Maps” like this landscape of hills and castles don’t have to be geographically accurate. Their role is to tell a story. Could the VMS “map” (or parts of it) be a didactic version of one of these stories? Is that why it’s hard to pin down?
A Critical Look at the “Oak and Ivy”
It’s probable that the helical vines on the tree in the triptych painting above are metaphorically related to Arma Christi imagery, which would place the tree iconographically halfway between the Arma Christi “pole with ropes” version and the VMS Oak and Ivy—almost a visual bridge, so-to-speak.
But I now have second thoughts about the VMS tree. Maybe we should examine it again…
The following plant, from a Hebrew manuscript (lower-right), has a hauntingly similar twining pattern to the VMS Oak and Ivy. The main difference is that the VMS main stalk has branches going through rather than around (whether this is deliberate, creative, or a correction for a mistake is not clear). The leaves, however, are quite different, so it’s not a complete match:
Maybe the VMS Oak and Ivy is not meant to be two plants, as in herbal manuscripts such as Masson 116 or Sloane 4016. Maybe it’s one plant that has been pruned and twined in topiary style like the one on the right (note how the stalks are attached at the base, which sometimes happens with ivy (it insinuates itself into the bark) but which might mean it’s all one plant with three stalks).
I’ve seen plants where the stalks have been twisted and twined in remarkable patterns very similar to the above painting. Maybe the berries are not ivy berries, maybe they are olives, or something else related to a biblical story.
Now Everything Looks Different
I have to go back and look at everything again. I was almost certain the nymph middle-left on folio 77v represents the birth of Venus (or at least, that she is either Venus or a metaphor for birth), but maybe not.
And maybe the nymph at the top isn’t Cassiopeia after all (although I think Cassiopeia is a very good suggestion for the imperious seated nymph). Maybe the central position is the throne of the last judgment and the nymphs on either side are stand-ins for the angels Michael and Gabriel.
Things are shaking up right now, but maybe that’s a good thing. A new perspective. Let’s see where it leads
I have a tongue-in-cheek name for the “flying loges” in the Voynich Manuscript…. I call them “zoomers”. They remind me of strap-on rocket-powered vehicles in vintage science-fiction magazines.
They’re vaguely like baptismal fonts or the smaller “holy water” fonts, or the style of pulpit that is elevated and sometimes attached to a wall.
They’re also like loges in medieval family tree drawings, or images of Christ or St. John being baptized. Some look like the undersides of medieval censers or fancy corbels or archway supports. They’re used in many ways in medieval art.
Here are some examples:
Belém tower [Patrick Clenet, Wikipedia]
Balconies and bartizans (overhanging towers) were common on medieval architecture. Their lofty viewpoints and decorative elements make them particularly appealing to illustrators, so it’s not surprising that similar imagery turns up in illuminated manuscripts.
Even so, I’ve never seen any direct analogies to the VMS font-like or rocket-powered versions. As usual, the illustrator had a unique way of presenting nymphs that zoom or hover in the margins like imperious garita-drivers.
There is a lot of variety in the patterns on the containers, each one is different in basic shape. Connections between nymphs are frequent and these too tend to vary:
There’s a certain serious-faced exuberance in these drawings, as though the nymphs are absorbed in their tasks and taking them seriously. The illustrator seems to delight in individualizing the containers.
One source of imagery that seems somewhat similar is the fiery bartizans in some of the alchemical scrolls, like the Ripley scrolls:
George Ripley (c. 1415–1490), best known for inspiring the “Ripley Scrolls” was an alchemist who was probably most active between about 1440 and 1470. Unfortunately, most of the scrolls that are named after him were created in the late 15th century and the 16th century, too late to have inspired the VMS, and we can only guess at the original inspiration. There are many common themes, however, with chemical processes and distillation expressed in metaphysical terms and emblems.
Alchemy was not just about turning cheaper materials into gold (although this was attempted by many alchemists), it also included the refinement of the distillation arts. The above drawings, with flames ejecting from the base of the balconies, is labeled “Spiritus” and “Imbibing” and likely refers to alcoholic distillation rather than chemical interactions between mercury and sulphur.
The VMS drawings are so unconventional in their execution, it’s difficult to know if distillation is intended by some of the drawings.
Here’s a similar drawing with a completely different meaning, imparting a Christian rather than an alchemical/metaphysical message. Drawings with doves and flame-like red lines are used to represent Pentecost:
Emanations from an architectural support (under which is a dove) [BNF NAL 3226]
In this Armenian manuscript, Pentecost is represented with parasol-like red lines emanating from the dove (this reminds me of some of the parasol shapes in the VMS):
Dove emanating blood-colored droplets arranged in a parasol shape above the figure. Pentecost illustration [Armenian, Walters 543]
The same manuscript includes a mandorla-style circular rainbow rather than a double-arched rainbow as was more common in central and northern Europe:
A Touch of Color
In addition to numerous zoomers, the VMS includes rainbows. For example, f82v has a double rainbow, a convention that usually refers to divinity and higher powers in medieval art. Something wavy seems to be attached to or pouring out of each of the ends.
On either side are nymphs in loges, with another closer to the rainbow with her legs in the pond. To the far right is a cloudlike shape that looks like it might be rising up out of the water or, alternately, raining something into the pool below. The nymph to the right is holding or fending off a pipelike object with something blue streaming into or out of the bottom.
The palette is quite restrained, mostly green, a bit of blue, and a touch of rouge on the nymphs:
In medieval art, the double rainbow is frequent in Bible illustrations in manuscripts and church alcoves as a metaphor for a celestial throne. Below is a common theme of judgement. Note the double rainbow and two celestial beings in cloudlike “loges” on either side of the main figure (usually God or Jesus), with the lower halves of their bodies not visible:
Judgment, with angels and a double rainbow [The Met 1998.179]
This well-populated illustration also has double rainbows with celestial beings on either side, but their bodies have not been placed in cloudlike containers. Instead, their legs have been covered to the ankles with only their feet showing, so chopping off the lower half of the bodies was not characteristic of every illustration:
The Last Judgment, Lochner, Cologne, c. 1435
In this example, which I have posted previously, there is a double rainbow and the lower halves of the figures in the upper archway are obscured by the terrain, as though they were standing in water or clouds:
Last Judgement, Getty Open Content Program
In this drawing, there is only one rainbow, but note the cloudbands on each end, and how the lower bodies of the figures in the upper portion are not shown, as in previous examples. There is a general trend, in these kinds of drawings, to identify celestial beings or “people of the stars” by obscuring their lower bodies:
I wanted to post this one for contrast. In France and Germany one sees a mixture of double rainbows and mandorlas (an almond- or sometimes race-track-shaped rainbow). In Italy, there are also sometimes double rainbows, but the mandorla appears to be more popular:
Last Judgment, Giotta, Padua, c. 1306
This one from Liége is more similar to the VMS arrangement, a double rainbow with two figures with their lower bodies obscured by cloudband shapes, and note also that the ends of the rainbows also have cloudband shapes.
Cloudbands are not visually the same as VMS loges, but the idea might be the same, and clouds create water droplets, so maybe the VMS wavy lines coming from the ends of the rainbows are rain. Note also the “flower loge” in the left margin. It was acceptable for the lower bodies to be placed in a variety of container styles:
The Last Judgment, Liége W.12
This example from northwest Spain is earlier than the others (10th century) and does not explicitly include the rainbows, but the subject matter is similar, there are many curved shapes, and I was wondering if the hornlike structures in the upper corners might be parallels to the strange blobby thing on the right side of the VMS double-rainbow drawing:
Connecting the Dots
But is there a way to move beyond visual similarity and find relationships between themes in different parts of the manuscript?
Could there be a connection between these odd structures on the “bio” and pool pages and the VMS rosettes folio?
I’ve posted blogs suggesting that the VMS rosettes on the “map folio might be better understood if they are visualized as layers. One possibility is interpreting the corner rosettes as a map (and possibly also a representation of the elements), while the “upper” layer might be medieval cosmology.
Maybe the center rosette is the cosmic connection between the physical and spiritual worlds.
I can see other ways of dividing up the rosettes, as well, but let’s keep it simple and assume there might be something abstract or cosmological about parts of the rosettes folio, and that it might not all be “one thing”:
Now look at this folio from the Ajmer Visconti Hours. Even though the style and viewpoint are different from the VMS “map” folio, there are thematic similarities.
Note the container-like architectural “fancy towers”. They don’t really look like the towers in VMS Rotum5, they look like Jewish spice boxes, but the idea is similar to the “towers” in the center of the VMS “map”, as are the ray-like textures. Note also the naturalistic landscape with tors and castles at the top, similar to the castles and escarpments in the VMS:
Now let’s jump back to the VMS nymphs in zoomers… here is an illustration of the “celestial court” in the can you buy prednisone over the counter in greece Visconti Hours. Click on it to see it full-sized. This one is worth a second look.
Note the ladies around the edges, suspended in loges and on platforms, each with a different attribute, and how they are connected by “pipes”. It’s a much more elaborate drawing than the VMS nymphs-in-loges, but many of the conceptual elements are the same:
So even though the VMS drawings are quite individualized, there seem to be common themes.
But like the Ripley Scrolls, the Visconti Hours is a bit late to have informed the VMS, and is stylistically very different. And we have to keep in mind that towers, creation, and judgment are common to many manuscripts. Is there something with the same motifs in an earlier (and possibly cruder) version?
Seeking that Special Resonance
I’ve mentioned numerous times on the Voynich.ninja forum that manuscripts from some of the Carthusian monasteries have qualities more akin to the VMS. In particular, BL Add ms 37049 (The Desert of Religion) embodies a similar zeitgeist in terms of the drawing style and the way the drawings inhabit the margins with the text often wrapping in around them.
The text rambles across the pages. There are no prick marks to guide the scribe. The marginal drawings are charming and rather primitive. Some of the text is squeezed within curving bands. Large parts of it are in verse, which means there is greater repetition than in regular texts:
However, The Desert of Religion (and other miscellany) is written on paper, which rang caution bells for me. Like the Visconti Hours, it might be too late to have influenced the VMS.
The estimated origin is between 1460 and 1500 at a monastery in northern England, but it has some interesting variations on traditional themes that might be worth mentioning.
Traditional Themes in The Desert of Religion
Now, a slight digression. This section is not specifically about T-in-O maps (which I’ve discussed in previous blogs), but about how they are usually represented…
Folio 2v of Add ms 37049 (The Desert of Religion) is a simplified mappa mundi in T-in-O form, with a VMS-like double-infurled cloudband to represent air (ayer):
East is at the top, but Jerusalem is not in the center. Instead, there’s a cluster of buildings in the upper-right labeled Syria. The most prominent building in the “Europea” section is Roma, and “Affrica” is dotted with European-looking houses and a cathedral.
Below the drawing, it explains how the earth was bequeathed to the three sons of Noah after the great flood (the basis of the T-in-O configuration as discussed in a previous blog).
So what happened to Jerusalem? It’s usually front-and-center in most T-in-O maps. Why is it different in this manuscript? Was it dissed? Actually the opposite is true. The creators gave it a full page on the next folio, and this is what caught my attention…
I sometimes wonder if the VMS was created this way—with traditional themes divided up in less traditional ways. Perhaps ideas that are usually represented on a single page have been spread across more folios. If so, common motifs may be harder to recognize.
The following section is illustrated in comic-panel style, and again we see the style of scalloped cloudband that was popular by this time, along with rows of stars:
Note how the main figure of these festivities has been drawn with unusually short legs and a large head (not unlike the VMS zodiac males), and the couple has two right hands clasping in the traditional marriage pose (similar to VMS Gemini):
Then we move to the story of the crucifixion and the ascension, where there is a rainbow separating the earth from the heavens, with a small cloudband at each end. The celestial figures at the top have their lower bodies obscured. The text is fitted into “ribbon” label at the top:
The VMS has several rainbows, but rather than cloudbands, there is something that appears to be fluid flowing into or out of each end:
This is also true of the double rainbow on the later page. Are these meteorological substitutions for cloudbands?
In the following illustration we see God’s emissary (the dove with halo) near a ribbon label, describing the forgiveness of misdeeds:
Which shows up again later, as a plummeting bird and rays:
The VMS has something that is thematically similar on f86v, a bird near the top of the folio flying out of (or nearby) a cloudlike scaly shape. The lines and dots could be anything: air, spiritual essence, water (possibly a deluge?), so it’s hard to tell if there is any narrative relationship, but I include it to call attention to the bird and its position within the emanations:
The Desert of Religion also makes generous used of scalloped nebuly lines, stars, and rays.
In this drawing, the illustrator borrowed the plant-platform motif common to genealogy diagrams. It’s not too much of a stretch to recast them as zoomers connected by flowing streams as occurs in the VMS:
This manuscript has another commonality with the VMS… numerous candelabra-like drawings of plants (see K. Gheuen’s blog for a more complete discussion of interesting menorah-like plant drawings). We don’t know what they represent in the VMS, but here they serve as guideposts to a spiritual life and each plant is drawn differently, with many of them almost looking like real plants:
The leaves describe virtues, vices, and numerous other concepts related to the battle between good and evil within a soul striving to live a spiritual life.
In addition to rainbows and plants, there are numerous coffins and skeletons in shrouds. Judging by the smile on its face, this one likes being a corpse (or maybe likes the view):
The commentary next to most of these smiling skeletons relates to the temporary nature of the corporeal body, and how it wastes away (the implication being that one should nourish and protect the longer-lasting spirit).
In medieval manuscripts, blank eyes usually represent a corpse or sometimes “extras” (people who are added around the central figures to flesh out the crowd). The arms of this nymph are bound as though in a shroud:
I’m fairly sure the nymph in the above drawing is a corpse, but I’m less sure about the following nymph (maybe she’s dreaming), but the idea of “levels” in both compositions is intriguing.
Here we have the corpse at the bottom, and above it elements that obscure the lower part of the figure, one with a cloudband-like “parasol” above the nymph’s head (tent-like parasols were used to denote authority in medieval texts). Maybe a VMS parasol is a stand-in for a halo or a way to symbolize authority. On the right, the “zoomer” is a cloudband:
One small digression, before summing up… I’ve frequently said that the seven stars on VMS f68r don’t have to represent Pleiades, that there are other possibilities (it’s possible they are the Pleiades, but I don’t want to assume they are until there’s evidence). The Desert of Religion includes seven stars to represent the seven monks who started the Carthusian order in the 11th century:
The VMS doesn’t feel overtly Christian to me. It never has. My first impression 12 years ago was Pagan or clinical-gynecological, and when I saw the text on 116v, I wondered if the fractured German might be Yiddish. I’m not sure it is (any foreigner who knew a few words in German but was struggling with grammar could have written it), and the note on 116v might not be contemporary with the main text, so I’m keeping all possibilities open for now.
Even though it’s full of loges and connections between them, it doesn’t feel like family tree imagery either (except maybe the clothed figures on f71v in the zodiac-figures section).
So is it Christian imagery artfully disguised?
I’m still on the fence about whether VMS illustrations are direct references to Christian themes. The way objects are put together has echoes of Christian imagery, as can be seen from the numerous examples posted in this and previous blogs, but the creator could still have been Pagan, Jewish, Moslem, or Agnostic living in a dominantly Christian society.
Everyone in western society was exposed to Christian illustrative traditions, especially those who could read, and people from all religions are generally interested in themes like life, death, and the afterlife, especially those living at a time when plague was always around the next corner. Maybe someone Christian or non-Christian borrowed what was relevant to their conception of the VMS and ignored the rest.
The VMS image at the top of folio 77r is often interpreted as the four elements (air, earth, fire, and water). But there are five pipes, not four. I did find one medieval representation with a fifth component in the center called null, and some conceptions include a fifth “element” as spirit, aether, or void, so it’s not unreasonable to suppose the diagram might represent elements:
Medieval representations of the elements took many forms, from simple lists and block drawings to elaborate illuminations. Some of them take their cues from ancient writings:
Yes, even things which we call elements, do not endure. Now listen well to me, and I will show the ways in which they change. The everlasting universe contains four elemental parts. And two of these are heavy—earth and water—and are borne downwards by weight. The other two devoid of weight, are air and—even lighter—fire: and, if these two are not constrained, they seek the higher regions. These four elements, though far apart in space, are all derived from one another. Earth dissolves as flowing water! Water, thinned still more, departs as wind and air; and the light air, still losing weight, sparkles on high as fire. But they return, along their former way: the fire, assuming weight, is changed to air; and then, more dense, that air is changed again to water; and that water, still more dense, compacts itself again as primal earth.
Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book 15
Sometimes an effort was made to relate elements to other concepts that fell into groups of four, eight, or twelve.
I didn’t want to assume the mysterious emanations from the VMS pipes were elements without investigating other possibilities, such as
traits (hot, cold, wet, and dry),
humors (black or yellow bile, blood, or phlegm), or possibly
temperaments (sanguine, choleric, phlegmatic, or melancholic)
the four Anemoi (Oricus, Occidens, Auster, Borea),
seasons (spring, summer, fall, winter), or
stages of life/wheel of fortune.
In the following chart, we see Ignis, Aer, Aqua and Terra in the center, above which are the four humors, and to the right a group of hot/cold/wet/dry traits that are frequently associated with medicinal plants:
Levels of Complexity in Medieval Charts
Simple visual charts conveyed many of these basic ideas. This chart displays the elements in rings, beginning with earth in the center:
Schematic of elements earth, water, air, fire, and “aiers pur” [Huntington EL 26A3]
Noe that there are five labeled rings, with a dark-blue ring on the outer edge called aiers pur
Sometimes there is no text. The colors and shapes tell the story, or the text is separate from the diagrams:
This simple 13th-century chart interposes traits between the four elements. Later in the manuscript the same idea was drawn with slight differences, as though the illustrator were experimenting with ways to present the information:
Elements form the outer ring, with traits in semicircles between them [Bodleian Digby 107]
Arrangements varied considerably. This is one of the less common ones, from a mid-15th century medical/astronomical text. The elements are stacked within an enclosing circle in a different order from the preceding Huntington diagram, (aqua, ter[r]a, aer, ignis).
Note the marker at the top of the chart, and the numerous Latin abbreviation symbols that encircle the diagrams (characteristics similar to the VMS). This is a small-format manuscript (207 x 145mm):
Simple schema illustrating water, earth, air, and fire [Morgan MS B.27]
Another diagram in Digby 107 places the elements Ignis, Aer, Aqua, and Terra in the corners, with connections through hot/cold/wet/dry along the sides. Contraria forms a cross in the center:
Here Ignis, Aqua, Aer, and Terra are also in the corners, along with their associated traits. There are conceptual connections through the sides like the previous diagram, except that “[con]trarie” is on two of the outer connections instead of in the center, with “Remitentes” on the other two sides. Further connections have been added cross-wise to connect the corners:
Elements schematically connected through the sides and center [Misc. Alchemical XII]
Coming back to Morgan MS B.27, sometimes the elements were related to humans rather than to a schematic of the heavens, a trend that became more prevalent in the century after this was created, with the rise of humanism (which had a greater emphasis on independent, scientific thought and the individual). Note the lines in the background form a shape similar to the divisions used for medieval horoscopes:
In the next example, temperaments, traits, and elements have been further related to the constellations on the ecliptic (the zodiac constellations):
Zodiac constellations are included in the outer rim of the chart. together with other fourfold temperaments, traits, and elements [Morgan MS B.12]
The following diagram lists the elements and traits around the outer edge and the humors in spokes radiating from the center. It includes a schematic illustration of the moon, “planets”, and stars at the top (the Sun was in the middle of the planets because it was wrongfully assumed it orbited the Earth):
Morgan B27 has attracted the attention of Voynich researchers due to the little flower-shape and text within concentric circles, but I was also intrigued by the content, which includes elements, traits, plants, zodiac constellations, and month names:
Note that the month names are Ianuari[us], Februari[us], Marcius, Apprilis, Maius, Iuni[us], Iulius, August[us], Septe’ber, October, Nove’ber, and Dece’ber. The language/spelling is different, but some of the abbreviation symbols are the same as the month-notes added to the VMS zodiac figures.
Sometimes these various schema (left) were combined with concepts of gravitational forces, as in the two examples on the right. It was common to illustrate gravity as people standing on the earth on four sides with their feet anchored to the ground. The diagram bottom-right is a little different because it includes animals with the people:
Sometimes the gravity diagrams include “tunnels” toward the center of the earth or a rock plummeting into the center. The following diagram is primarily to illustrate gravity (note how the characters are slouched as though they are being pulled toward the globe):
Four people on the globe, pulled toward the Earth by gravitational forces [BNF Français 14964]
I thought it might be possible to relate the figures on VMS 57v to temperaments or one of the other groups of four, but it’s hard to explain the various parts of the drawing as a cohesive whole and I prefer K. Gheuen’s idea (I wish I had thought of it), described in this blog about the wheel of fortune:
Toward a Concept of a Unified Whole
LJS 449 has one of the more complicated charts, where everything except the kitchen sink has been crammed into one diagram. If you have read my blog about mappae mundi you may notice that this chart is oriented in the common way of the time, with east at the top, the direction of the rising sun.
The traits and temperaments are beneath the four corner circles and between them are the 12 winds. Note the space-filling “justification” squiggles between the text blocks in the outer circle:
So those are a few of the medieval concepts that might be creatively illustrated with something emanating from pipes, or perhaps in a wheel with four people with their feet pointing toward the center, as in VMS 85r2:
Could 84r2 be a diagram of gravitational forces?
Maybe, if it has been combined with other ideas (like the four temperaments), but it would be unusual for a picture of gravity to have the sun in the center unless this illustrator knew something other people at the time did not (that the core of the Earth is intensely hot, or that the Sun was a prime gravitational force in our solar system, a heretical idea).
The diagram on the facing page also has four figures, each one holding a different object (possibly an attribute), with a moon rather than a sun in the center, suggesting a connection between the two folios:
There are two full pages of text between this diagram and the next one, so perhaps this section was important to the designer in some way.
Following these textural/figural rota is the foldout “map” that nay also incorporate fourfold schemata, as discussed in previous blogs. Perhaps the four corners are fire, water, earth, and air:
Other Possibilities
Magical diagrams are sometimes organized in groups of four.
Here is a 15th-century charm against the plague from the Leechbook (Wellcome Library) drawn in a style similar to humors and temperaments:
The text in charms often consists of names of angels, prayers, and “power” words (some of which can be traced back to ancient times, while others are a mystery). Sometimes they are accompanied by medicinal recipes.
Here is a similarly constructed talisman for protection in battle:
Talismanic rotum for protection in battle [Huntington HM 64]. Charms were often inscribed on parchment or leather and worn on the arm or around the neck.
But maybe VMS 77r has nothing to do with elements (in the schematic sense), or humors, traits, temperaments, or charms. Maybe it’s part of a story.
Could the various emanations from the pipes and cloudlike textures represent hail, rain, fire, and blood as described in classical literature and biblical passages?
If so, then perhaps the figures in loges on either sides are celestial beings—God’s emissaries carrying out his wishes (which apply to several religions, not just Christianity), and the ones on the lower left of 77r might be dishing out storms, floods, and other natural disasters.
Here is a 12th-century illustration of a tempest of fire, hail, and blood:
The first trumpet, Beatus manuscript [c. 1180, The Met]
Illustrations of plagues and calamitous weather are also found in Hebrew manuscripts, such as “the plague of hail” in the Hispano-Moresque Haggadah, Castile, c.1300.
I forgot to include this image when I posted this blog. It is another example of a trumpet, lines to represent sound, prone individuals below, and a burning star. The call of the third trumpet. [Source: The Cloisters Apocalypse, c. 1330]
More of this occurs in Morgan M.644. Here the emanations are accompanied by a plague of scorpions:
As an aside, note how M.644 uses a band of stars, rather than a cloudband, to define the celestial borders (above and right). This is more like old Egyptian borders on friezes and coffins than later medieval cloudbands, but the context is the same.
M.644 also incorporates numerous groups of four, including winged beings, four discs with dark-light slightly spiraled patterns, and 24 stars in the perimeter (6 groups of 4) and, in the center, the lamb of God (looking more like a horse than a lamb):
Agnus Dei surrounded by numerous motifs in groups of four [Morgan Library, New York, Morgan M.633, c. 940s Apocalypse manuscript]
In this early Spanish illustration, there are streams and corpses and a falling, burning star, with an angel (a clothed nymph?) orchestrating events:
Streams, corpses and a burning star [Spain, c. 940s, Morgan MS M.644]
Is the same theme in the VMS? If we pretend nymphs in airborne loges are divine beings, are they working the celestial machinery?
I’m beginning to think that the VMS nymphs aren’t nymphs at all. Maybe we should think of the ones in loges as “celestial engineers” who alternately guide the viewer or orchestrate earthly events. If so, perhaps the pipes at the top of 77r have more to do with natural elements or mythical calamities than the classifications of Aristotle.
Postscript 21 August 2019: If you scan back through this blog, you will see that I posted an image of “the first trumpet” from a Beatus manuscript, with textures streaming out of the end of the trumpet. This image exemplifies the point of the blog—that streaming textures don’t have to be Aristotelian-style elements, they can be other things, including temperaments, humors, sound, messages, or biblical-style calamities.
The idea that the poofs coming out of the VMS pipes might be something other than earth, air, fire, water, and spirit/aether has haunted me for years, but it wasn’t until I started focusing on Agnus Dei, early this year, that the idea of calamitous weather hit me, as well.
I was reluctant to post this blog because I knew I had another image in my files that included not just one trumpet, but several—but I couldn’t locate it among my terabytes of VMS imagery and my blogs tend to sit for a long time in Draft mode when I can’t find a specific image, so I posted it anyway.
I found the missing image today and have cropped it to emphasize the part with the trumpets. Note how each angel at the level just above the Earth has wings of a different color, just as the emanations from each VMS pipe is a slightly different texture or color. Four of these angels have trumpets, and one is dispensing emanations from a lidded chalice (a chalice often refers to Christ’s blood as a metaphor for spirit or the Godhead), so we have 1 + 4 to possibly match 1 + 4 in the VMS “pipes”:
A row of angels between heaven and earth dispense God’s judgment by pouring spiritual redemption (a chalice with Christ’s blood captured at the crucifixion) or various forms of calamitous weather (often wind, fire, flooding rain, or hail) [BNF Néerlandais 3]
Imagine that the nymphs on either side of the VMS folio in their respective “zoomers” are angels in charge of dispensing God’s commands. Also imagine that the VMS pipes are metaphorical trumpets, and each poof out of a pipe is some sort of calamity (e.g., rain, wind, fire, hail). Fire and hail (and sometimes frogs) were especially popular in terms of heavenly onslaughts. It’s possible the empty pipe refers to wind or to spirit in much the same way as the lidded chalice of blood sometimes refers to spirit or spiritual redemption (it is sometimes also a flaming chalice).
I don’t know if this is what the pipes represent, I still think temperaments, humors, or traditional elements are possible, but since this images helps clarify one of the possibilities I haven’t seen suggested by other researchers, I wanted to share it with readers.
Postscript 13 May 2020: Here are two more drawings that illustrate how the textures coming out of the “pipe” on f77r might not be elements in the medieval scientific sense but, alternately, could be forces of nature like wind, water, fire, and hail, as suggested in this blog.
These are from the Wellcome Apocalypse (MS49) and they show the various calamities that could be “rained down” by God if people didn’t behave themselves (with thanks to Arca Librarian for pointing out that this manuscript is now online).
Note the different textures used for each form of weather:
The Voynich Manuscript has 10 figural themes patterned after zodiac symbols, where one would usually expect 12. Two have been duplicated in different colors. The unduplicated figures are surrounded by 30 nymphs each, the others 15. The figures for Aquarius and Capricon, which are usually at the beginning and end of traditional sequences, are missing (or were not necessary for whatever purpose the designer intended).
Over the years, I have collected more than 550 early zodiac sequences, most of them complete. It’s becoming difficult to find ones I don’t already have, so I’ve only located three more in the last year, but 550+ is probably enough to post some general observations.
VMS Layout
In the VMS, the double fish we associate with Pisces follow directly after a section with a lot of moon and starburst shapes, so there isn’t space to insert a seemingly missing Aquarius. The last figure, the crossbowman, falls before a completely different section with nymphs in green pools, so there may be a folio missing after Sagittarius:
It doesn’t seem likely that the two “Aries” drawings stand for Capricorn (or for Aries and Capricorn), since the sequence would be wrong, and Taurus has been duplicated as well. Similarly, the extra Taurus would not be a good stand-in for the missing Capricorn or Aquarius, so it seems probable that Aries and Taurus are four halves of two wholes.
Sources
Most medieval zodiacs were added to astrology/astronomy manuscripts, books of hours (where they served as embellishments along with months’ labors), missals (although less frequently), and books of general knowledge that include sections on cosmology or astrology.
This blog is a continuation of a series of combination-searches and will not delve into Aquarius. Aquarius imagery can be quite variable, even among similar traditions, which makes it hard to guess what Aquarius might have looked like if it were part of the original VMS.
Instead, this blog focuses on zodiacs with crayfish-Cancer and lizard-like Scorpius, because they appear to represent a distinct subgroup in terms of thematic content and execution (about 7%). See previous blogs for other combinatoins.
Incomplete Zodiacs
It’s not difficult to find zodiac series with fewer than 12 figures. Sometimes drawings have been cut out, sometimes the series is unfinished (or has been sketched but not painted). Occasionally there are mistakes. But usually it’s evident that 12 figures were intended. With the VMS, the intent is not so clear but we can look at some incomplete sets to see what they offer.
The following manuscript was significantly vandalized, with only four zodiac figures spared and many of the months’ labors excised, as well. The four remaining figures (aquatic critters and crawly things) are contained within gold-filled roundels and show a mixture of traditions—the uncommon lizard-like Scorpius combined with the classical “Capri-Pisces” (goat-fish), also known as a sea-goat:
Vandalized zodiac series in BNF Latin 8885 (14th century). Note that Scorpius has been erroneously placed in the month labeled September rather than its usual place in October.
Taking Stock
In the vandalized zodiac, Pisces is blue, and the fish have long noses.
Color variations are common in copied manuscripts, even those with identical figures, but in this case the blue fish seems to be an underlying theme that is carried over to other manuscripts, as will be shown in the following examples. Cancer is a crayfish, Scorpio is lizard-like (these are medieval innovations), but Capricorn is a classical seagoat dating back thousands of years.
After going through my files numerous times, I’m fairly confident that the vandalized missal is in the same general tradition as a subgroup from France/Normandy/Flanders that is discussed below. This might be relevant to the VMS because crayfish-Cancer combined with a somewhat reptilian Scorpius represents less than 10% of 550+ examples.
Scorpius is generally represented by one of these four themes: a real scorpion (sometimes badly drawn), a turtle, a dragon, or a vaguely reptilian creature.
Cancer is typically a crayfish/lobster or a crab.
So let’s look at the general characteristics of this specific group of manuscripts…
Crayfish & Lizardy Scorpius Mixed with Classical Themes
Here is an example from early 13th century France that includes long-nosed blue fish, crayfish-Cancer, and lizardy-Scorpius, anomalously blended with classical scales-with-figure, centaur and seagoat. Sometimes the tail of the seagoat is more like a shell than a fish, but both commonly represent Capricorn:
Morgan MS M.153 from France, 13th century. It includes mostly traditional themes, except that it has a crayfish-Cancer and lizard-like Scorpius. Note the tail wound through Taurus’s legs. This is unusual and generally reserved for Leo.
The long-nosed fish are in the minority (about 12%). The majority are normal or blunt. The fish in the VMS have slight touches of blue, and have long noses and scales from top to bottom, but do not have a connecting line between them, as is common. Instead each has a line connecting to a star (and a somewhat ambiguous blue line added with paint):
The next zodiac series, from c. 1230s Paris, is clearly similar to Morgan M.153.
It has the long-nosed blue fish, Taurus with his tail through his legs, the crayfish, and reptilian Scorpius. They are framed by gold-filled roundels. Note the tree in Aries, which almost looks like a tail. I don’t think there’s a direct relationship between them, but coincidentally, the VMS feline has a tail that almost looks like a tree:
These themes are repeated in the mid-13th century in a number of manuscripts. The first example below is said to be from England (although this might be debated). The second and third from Paris, France. They are all drawn with gold-embellished roundels. Each one has a blue fish and a medieval-style reptilian Scorpius combined with classical themes.
Unfortunately the twins and crayfish are missing in Morgan M.103, but it’s not a stretch to imagine that Gemini was probably nude twins behind a shield and Cancer was a crayfish. If it is indeed from England, then Cancer might be a crab:
This one, from France, does not have a blue fish, but has obvious thematic similarities to Morgan M.153 and M.92. Note in particular the tail threaded through the legs of Taurus:
The following Psalter zodiac has fish of two different colors, but one is blue. It too includes a crayfish rather than a crab, and a lizard-like Scorpius within gold roundels:
A Book of Hours from the Diocese of Thérouanne (early 1300s) lacks the blue fish, but is thematically like the others and Taurus has his tail between his legs:
So far I have only seen 25 examples of Taurus with the leg-tail (less than 5% of zodiacs) and only 10 were paired with crayfish-Cancer and lizardy-Scorpius. One was paired with a crayfish and a turtle-Scorpius. They range in date from c. 1220s to c. 1478 with most of them being from the 13th and 14th centuries. Thus, this combination forms a distinct subgroup if one considers that most are from France and contained within gold circles.
The Scorpius drawing that most resembles the VMS critter is Douce 313 (c. 1350s, Paris), but it is unlike the VMS in other ways, relying on classical themes for Gemini, Cancer, Libra, Sagittarius, and Capricorn, and enclosing the figures within decorative frames:
Contrasting Examples
To see how this group of zodiacs contrasts with some of the others from the 13th and 14th centuries, here is an example from England or Normandy with rectangular frames, a crab-Cancer, and somewhat ambiguous Scorpius (it’s hard to tell if it’s a scorpion or a lizardy version). Note also that Capricorn is a regular goat and a lot of action is going on in each scene, with numerous figures playing out roles (it is unusual in this regard):
In Royal MS 2 B VII, the nude Gemini twins are behind a shield, as in the crayfish roundel zodiacs, but in the following two examples, the twins lack the shield or are fully clothed.
This one from southern Italy (c. 1320s) features crab-Cancer, a real scorpion, and rectangular, highly decorated frames. It’s interesting that it has long-nosed blue fish (possibly dolphin-fish):
There is a similarly decorative zodiac in Breviari d’Amour (Yates Thompson 31) from Spain (c. 1340) patterned after classical themes except for the clothing on Aquarius and Gemini:
Back to the Crayfish-Lizardy Group
Ms Typ 311 is from the far north of France (St. Riquier), and eventually ended up in the Houghton Library at Harvard. It too has blue fish and a lizardy Scorpius, combined with classical Virgo, Libra, and Capricorn (Aquarius and Gemini were probably scraped because they were nude):
Another zodiac was created in France in the mid-13th century that is very similar to the previous crayfish roundel-zodiacs, but note how the illustrator added trees to both Aries and Taurus:
Yates Thompson MS 13 (prob. England, c. 1330s) also has trees in Aries and Taurus, and a lizardy Scorpius, but Cancer is a crab and there is only a hand rather than a full figure for Libra, which puts it in a slightly different illustrative branch. In general, English manuscripts favor the crab rather than the crayfish.
Here is another 13th-century example from Paris with teal-blue fish and gold-filled roundels:
The Grosbois Psalter Hours from Liège includes wreath-like tendrils on the circular frame, but the subject matter is consistent with the others, with the exception of Libra, which is only the scales, no figure:
This difference in Libra might be significant, perhaps even relevant to the VMS, because Germanic manuscripts with crayfish/lizard are more likely to have no-figure Libra than the French manuscripts. Liège is in eastern Belgium, by the German border. Perhaps it was a transmission point between the two traditions:
Trinity B-11-5 (Normandy) has clear thematic similarities to the previous examples, but note the unusual scales on the blue fish and the fat trees as props for Gemini and Virgo. Like the previous zodiac, the Libra scales are not held by a full figure. Unlike the previous one, a hand has been added. Note also the pawlike hooves on Aries:
In the late 13th century in Switzerland, they adopted the same general themes (and gold-filled roundels), except the twins are in a barrel instead of behind a shield, and the lizardy-Scorpius looks more like a turtle (maybe a tarasque). Also note that Libra does not include a figure. Thus, as might be expected, the Swiss zodiac falls somewhere between the French and German styles:
By now it should be clear that illustrators often individualized line quality, poses, and colors, while still maintaining thematic similarities with other manuscripts (including the gold-embellished roundels).
This is a fairly rare subset of zodiacs. Reptilian scorpions, long-nosed blue fish, and crayfish Cancer specifically combined with classical themes within gold roundels account for less than 10% of medieval zodiacs. See my previous blogs for maps and other combination-searches.
Diverging from Tradition, But Only a Little
Around the middle of the 13th century, an illustrator in Arras got creative, as did others nearby. The Psalter-Hours of Gulluys de Boisieux (Morgan M.730) retains the same combination of medieval and traditional themes, including long-nosed fish, but adds an unusual pair of wings to the seagoat and sets them within rectangular frames. The tail extending beyond the frame is similar to Morgan M.440:
The above Psalter is significant in another way as it is one of the earliest crayfish/lizardy manuscripts to present Gemini as an affectionate couple. We can’t tell if they are twins or lovers, it’s not a marriage pose, but it is a distinct departure from a pair of nude males behind a shield. Arras is in northeast France near the Belgian border.
In this example from Paris, the general themes are the same as the early examples, including the Gemini shield. The main difference is the diamond-shaped frames:
Ludwig VIII 4, c. mid-13th century, Paris, France
Someone in Liège was even more innovative with frames, but retained the same themes (although the fish are more gray than blue). Unlike the earlier example from Liège, with the no-figure Libra, this one is consistent with the Parisian themes:
Note that all the frames so far are filled with gold except for Douce 313.
The frames around these figures from France are individualized and ornate, but the themes are the same. The main difference is decorative rather than gold-filled backgrounds, but the frame edges are gold:
In this example from Paris, the frame is scalloped instead of round, and delicately patterned rather than filled with gold, but nevertheless includes the crayfish, long-nosed blue fish, and vaguely reptilian Scorpius:
Morgan M.75, circa 1350, Paris, France
Thus we see a gradual movement away from the use of gold toward the latter part of the 14th century. It’s possible the plague years (1346-53) contributed to this change.
So why are most of these examples from France, rather than evenly distributed between France and England? Because English zodiacs generally favored the crab rather than a crayfish, and a dragon rather than a vaguely reptilian, more lizard-like Scorpius. The VMS includes a crayfish and lizardy Scorpius, so it is more similar to the French and Germanic manuscripts than those from England.
This is a more humble manuscript (mid-14th century) from southeastern France. There’s no gold in the roundels, but the themes are the same, except for two significant differences… the goat is a real goat, not a goat-fish, and the Libra scales are not held by a figure—thus it shares characteristics with both French and German zodiacs:
This French Psalter from the late 14th century includes decorative roundels, and a clothed, affectionate couple as Gemini (the man’s tunic has baggy sleeves). Most of the French zodiacs in this tradition feature nude male Gemini, so I wondered whether it might be from eastern France or the Alsace. It’s more similar to the VMS than most of the others, except that Libra, Sagittarius, and Capricorn are classical styles:
When I saw this zodiac, it occurred to me that the departure from tradition in choosing an affectionate Gemini may have been influenced by the very popular Roman de la Rose but it might be difficult to confirm whether this is so.
The Other Side of Europe
Meanwhile, in c. 1390s Prague, there is a manuscript the follows the French themes except it has a no-figure Libra and a real scorpion. It caught my attention because the fish are so similar to those in the VMS. They have very long noses, the scales go from top to bottom, they are slightly wavy, and there is no line between them connecting their mouths:
Long-nosed all-over-scales Pisces in a Prague manuscript that is mostly in the same style as the French manuscripts, with crayfish-Cancer, centaur, and goatfish. But like the Germanic manuscripts, Libra does not have a figure. In common with the VMS, the lion does have his tail between his legs, but his tongue is not sticking out. BSB Clm 826 825 (c. 1378 to c. 1419).
Unfortunately, other than the no-figure Libra and the crayfish, nothing else about the series has much in common with the VMS, so perhaps the similarity to the fish is coincidental or perhaps there is an intermediary source with long-nosed fish.
It’s not certain where the following manuscript is from (I wonder whether it might be Provençe), but it fits thematically with the others even though the figures are intended to represent constellations and are not within roundels. The stated date is 1395, but I would have guessed early 15th century based on the drawing style and text. Note that Cancer is unusual, as it includes both a crab and a crayfish:
The same manuscript includes a Zodiac Man illustration in a slightly different style, with a lizardy Scorpius that is somewhat like the VMS and even more similar to the green salamander in herbal manuscript Sloane 4016:
Unusual Framing
In terms of color and style, one would expect the following French manuscript to be from the late 15th century, but the repository says it’s early 15th-century (if so, it is remarkable for its time). The lavish colors and decorative frames set it apart, but the figural themes are consistent with the earlier French gold-filled roundels:
This early-15th-century example from the Netherlands is stylistically very different from anything else I’ve seen, and it doesn’t include a blue fish or seagoat, but otherwise, it’s thematically similar to the French manuscripts, with the addition of a protruding tongue on the lion. Since this person could draw better than most, it is obvious that the lizardy Scorpius is deliberate and not just a bad drawing of a scorpion:
Cross-Border Influence
The same general themes can be found in Catalonia, Switzerland, Austria and Bavaria, but there are some notable differences…
Morgan M.711 (Germany, c. 1230s) is thematically similar to the French subgroup, except that there is no figure holding the Libra scales and Capricorn is a goat:
In the German-speaking countries, the color of the fish was less often blue, and they didn’t always have long noses. The frames were similar (they were often circular), but the twins were more varied, and often clothed. Scorpius was sometimes a scorpion or a turtle rather than a lizard.
Most of the French examples included a full figure for Libra and the German ones (in the same tradition) generally omitted the figure. Note also that the French zodiacs favor the centaur while some of the Germanic manuscripts have two-legged Sagittarius. Might these details be important to localizing the VMS?
Here are examples from the Stammheim Missal, Austria Gradual Sequentiary, and Augsberg Psalter that I’ve posted in previous blogs. Note the turtle in the latter two (Hildegard von Bingen also drew Scorpius with a turtle shell):
In this example, possibly from Augsburg, the roundels have been replaced by arches and the archer has human legs, but the themes are the same:
This one (Augsburg, c. 1300) has arches, as well. I’ve posted it several times because there are numerous similarities to the VMS, including an affectionate couple and a human archer:
This c. 1350s example is thought to be from Germany. There is no gold fill, and the painting style is more sketchy than the above examples, but the themes are the same as other Germanic manuscripts. Scorpius is noteworthy because it looks more like a dog than a lizard, but it has a “sail” similar to some species of lizards.
Note that the lion has its tongue sticking out, Gemini is clothed, Capricorn is a goat, and the archer has two legs (characteristics more similar to the VMS):
BSB Clm 13076 (probably from Germany, 1356), has more in common with the VMS than French manuscripts featuring a crayfish and lizard-like Scorpius, but differs in that the lion doesn’t have its tail between its legs and Libra is held by a figure.
A zodiac sequence that is particularly significant (and similar in drawing style to Clm 13076) is Codex Sang. 827 from Lake Constance (but not from St. Gall). It combines a crossbowman with the crayfish and maybe a lizardy scorpion, although I suspect it’s a bad drawing of a scorpion.
The main differences between this manuscript and the French ones are that Libra does not include a figure, Sagittarius has two legs, and Capricorn is a goat. In common with the VMS, it has a crossbowman with baggy sleeves, and a crouching or sitting Virgo. However, nude male Gemini differs from the VMS:
This one from Catalonia (possibly Gerona), is missing Gemini, and Capricorn is a unicorn-goat rather than a seagoat, but it is otherwise thematically similar to the French crayfish/lizard zodiacs:
Zodiac in a Breviary written in Occitan, BNF Français 1601.
Origins of This Thematic Tradition
Where did this particular combination of crayfish and reptilian Scorpius originate? As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, I think one of the sources may have been carvings on cathedrals. Here is an example from the Basilique Ste. Madeleine in West Burgundy, France (there is a similarly-themed set in Chartres Cathedral). It combines the medieval Cancer and Scorpius with the classical centaur, goatfish, and Virgo:
Italian and Spanish manuscripts usually feature Cancer as a crab, Sagittarius as a centaur, and Scorpius as a scorpion, which is why they don’t fit well in this particular subgroup. There is one from Bologna (c. 1400) that is stylistically unusual that features affectionate Gemini, a 4-legged goat, and a crayfish, thus incorporating some of the German characteristics:
The zodiac in De Sphaera (Cristofor de Predis of the Lombard School, c. 1470) combines the French and German themes:
English manuscripts almost always have Cancer as a crab and Scorpio as a dragon or a traditional scorpion.
Summary
This combination-search focuses on one particular theme, the crayfish-lizardy combination, and yet even though the scope is narrow, it’s quite informative. There is a clear subgroup that combines these two figures with classical drawings and most of them are in France/Normandy/Flanders. However, the influence of this line can be seen in Germanic zodiacs, especially those in west and south Germany.
How Does the VMS Crossbow Fit In?
Crossbow zodiacs are rare, only a dozen out of 550+. They are similar to the French group in having male twins and a crayfish (except for one that has a badly drawn crab), but they usually omit the figure from Libra and include a real scorpion. Only three two of the crossbow zodiacs include a clothed male/female Gemini. The first has a “turtle” scorpion, the second a real one. Both are similar to the German subgroup in having a real goat rather than a seagoat:
There is also an incomplete Brevier zodiac from Breslau/Prague that is potentially similar to Pal. Germ. 148 (I don’t know who originally found this, but it has been mentioned by other VMS researchers), but note that it has a figure for Libra, so it might be in between French and German traditions and may not have included a crayfish or lizard-scorpion:
Summary
The crayfish/lizard combination is more common in the French/Flanders group, and the crossbow/affectionate Gemini combination only shows up (so far) in German and Czech/Polish manuscripts (these are pinpointed on maps in earlier blogs). Thus, the VMS figures seem to fit somewhere between the French and German examples.
In terms of drawing style and thematic choices, Cod. Sang. 827 from Lake Constance (15th c), Pal. Germ. 298 from Augsburg, and Ms Germ. fol. 557 are similar to one another and similar to the VMS, except for the nude male Gemini twins:
Cgm 28 (Schwabia, c. 1460) is painted differently and is more detailed, but it fits with the above examples, as well:
As does BSB Cgm 312 (also from Schwabia), which includes text within the roundel frames:
But they are not quite as similar as this c. 1440s zodiac from Seckau Austria, which has grazing Aries and Taurus with trees, undulating long-nosed fish, no-figure Libra, a clothed affectionate Gemini, two-legged Sagittarius, and a more lizard-like scorpion than the previous examples:
When the ten symbols are taken as a whole, the VMS zodiac sequence fits most comfortably with the Alsace/Schwabia/Bavaria/Austria manuscripts. The drawing styles are different and the exemplars for individual figures don’t necessarily come from zodiacs, but if you lift Virgo and the crossbowman out of Cod. Sang. 827 and fuse them into BSB Clm 13076 or Graz Ms. 386 (and hand out a few stars on strings), the thematic result is a close cousin to the VMS.
Medieval manuscripts with herbs are sometimes embellished with images of dogs, snakes, and dragons, often because the plant is used as a remedy for bites, or because it is named after an animal (e.g., dog violet, dragon’s blood). In this blog we’ll look at animal imagery that accompanies a specific plant.
For this example, I selected Aristolochia, a popular medicinal plant native to the Mediterranean.
Aristolochia exemplifies some of the differences in illustrative styles between 1) northern Italian and French manuscripts, 2) branches that include French, Italian, and German manuscripts, and 3) a separate branch comprised mainly of English manuscripts. Plus, it was often drawn with a dragon by the root or, occasionally, a snake, which provides additional information on lineage.
Overview of Herbal Traditions
Most diagrams of herbal illustrative traditions are of this form:
This kind of chart is helpful for an overview of illustrative descent, but it doesn’t help one to see or compare the drawings. So I created a new kind of chart…
I organized the information so that each dot on the chart is replaced with an image of the plant. I can choose any plant in any manuscript that is included in the files and, in a few seconds, display the relationships among them (this is the result of more than 11 years of comparison, classification, and identification of medieval plant drawings and is still ongoing).
The chart below is a small corner of a very large diagram that compares more than 75 herbal manuscripts from the 6th century to the 16th century (there are also sources from the 17th century, but I have not included them in this VMS-related discussion).
For this example, the English manuscripts are not visible in the first excerpt (they are off to the right), as they form yet another distinctively recognizable group. Aristolochia is not native to the United Kingdom, but it is interesting that it appeared in English manuscripts from about the 11th century onward, usually in a viny style with a round or spindly root.
Harley 4986 stands out from the more typical English manuscripts because Aristolochia longa was drawn with a round root. It may have been mistaken for another plant (it is labeled Aristocia longa but looks like a drawing of Cyclamen).
The Process of Identification
I had some background in plants before I learned about the VMS, and I should point out that visual similarity was not the only criterion for organizing these images. The names of the plants and their spellings often help to confirm the pictorial features, together with the order in which the plants are represented (sometimes even the page numbers match). I consulted textual herbals, as well (those without diagrams). All these flagposts were taken into consideration. There may still be small details to adjust but, for the most part, I believe the IDs to be good.
I’ve simplified the layout for blog display by taking out the relationship arrows. Organizing the chart with thumbnails for each plant makes it easier to compare and contrast the drawings. The dates in this example are approximate (I also have a version that more accurately shows date ranges and their level of confidence, but a ballpark is good enough for a blog post).
Smearwort
Aristolochia rotunda was known as “smearwort” due to its perceived medicinal value, or “round-rooted birthwort” (Aristolochia longa is a related plant known as birthwort).
In the following illustrations, note the arrangement of the leaves, the distinctively different ways of drawing the root, and the presence or absence of the dragon (in conjunction with the root style):
There are also a few drawings that fall in between the vague root and the round one but, in general, most are obvious copies of their predecessors.
The Lumpy Root
In the following group of manuscripts, the A. rotunda root is drawn like a sack of marbles, with an accompanying dragon, while the roots in the second chart farther below look like vague lumps or puzzle pieces and do not include the dragon (in other words, the dragon only occurs in drawings with a specific and distinctive style of root drawing).
Note also that in the drawings on the bottom-right (Udine and Vermont herbals) the leaves are different (smaller and more viny), and the dragon or serpent is posed differently:
The similarities between Masson 116, Historia Plantarum, Erbario 106, Sloane 4016, CLM 2853, and Canon Misc 408 are very obvious. The arrangement of the leaves and the pose of the dragon are unmistakable. Even the pretzel curl in the dragon’s tail has been copied.
Note however, that the distinctive wings of the dragon are not present in the Erbario and Canon Misc drawings. It’s a small difference but an important one that strengthens the possible connection between Canon Misc 408 and Erbario 106.
The CLM 28531 image is hard to see, but the dragon has wings, so it is more similar to Masson 116 than to Erbario 106 or Canon Misc.
BnF Lat 17844 is of particular interest as it faithfully copies the leaf shapes and arrangement seen in the Masson/Historia Plantarum/Erbario group, and the marble-sack root, but includes small changes to the dragon’s head and tail (it is looped, but not in a pretzel). Thus it is unlikely that BnF Latin 17844 influenced Misc 408 or CLM 28531.
Note that I have color-coded some of the manuscripts, and there are two color-codes around the borders of Erbario 106 and Canon Misc 408. This is because I discovered there were images from more than one tradition in these manuscripts. This demonstrates that not all manuscripts are copied from a single source or, in some cases, that two or more herbals have been bound together.
So far, I haven’t found any Aristolochia marble-sack roots with dragons prior to the 14th century. Masson 116 appears to be the earliest (in manuscripts viewable online). Historia Plantarum includes essentially the same drawing and was created close in time to Masson 116. Even the dragon’s wavy out-pointed ears are present:
Scholars are still debating whether the original source for the later manuscripts was Masson 116 or some other exemplar.
Mixed Sources? Or a coincidence?
The relationship between the Masson/Historia Plantarum/Sloane manuscripts and the Udine/Vermont herbals is very intriguing. The leaves in the latter two are smaller and vinier, yet the marble-sack root and dragon are present in the Udine herbal (but without the pretzel-curl tail). The Vermont herbal is exactly like the Udine herbal in some ways, but for this plant, a woman and a serpent replace the dragon.
But the Udine and Vermonth herbals don’t follow the English examples either, which generally feature a round cyclamen-style root and numerous flower buds (in contrast to Aristolochia longa, which were drawn without flower buds):
Note that the textual descriptions in the first group above are quite terse, whereas, they are quite a bit more extensive in the Udine/Vermont herbals and the English herbals. Some of these manuscripts were self-contained (e.g., Historia Plantarum), while others were intended to be used with companion texts that had more information about the plants. Still others were never finished.
The Vaguely Lumpy Roots
Now let’s look at the drawings on the left side of the chart, which are mainly from Italian and French manuscripts. You will see immediately that the roots in the manuscripts on the left are drawn differently from those on the right. They are only vaguely lumpy and don’t look like they’ve been stuffed with marbles.
The leaves also tend to be smaller than the Masson/Historia Plantarum group (except for the Udine and Vermont herbals), and lack the double in-curving vine, and there is no dragon (there is, however, a snake in Estense Alpha which might be mnemonic, as one of the names of the plant is “snake root”).
In the left-hand group, the similarity between Circa Instans 626 and Tractatus 9136 is very clear, and if you pay attention to the larger leaf and the turned leaf, the similarity to Egerton 747 also becomes apparent:
Palatino 586 generally follows the basic plant form of the herbals on the left, but often includes unusual figures. In this case, there is an owl at the top of the plant and three faces in the root. The center one might might be an animal, perhaps a dragon, lion, or a demon. Sometimes I can readily identify the inspiration for the figures in Pal. 586, and other times they appear to be unique inventions. Most of them do, however, relate to the plant in some way:
Dragon Tails
Let’s take a closer look at the dragons, which are drawn in a fairly distinctive style:
There are very obvious similarities between the drawings in rows 1 and 2, even though the row 2 dragons lack wings.
The third group is similar to the first two in significant ways, as in the shape of the root, but there are clear differences in the plant leaves and the way the dragon and serpent are portrayed. Is it a coincidence that the dragon is included with the root? Or did someone see the dragon-style root and then create their own variation?
Here is a closeup of the dragon in BnF Latin 17844, which is essentially the same as the earlier manuscripts but posed a little differently:
The dragon’s neck is curved a little more, and the tail lacks the pretzel, but otherwise it is similar to the Masson/Historia Plantarum and Sloane group.
The Pretzel-Tail Dragon
Long ears, flames, and wings are common in medieval dragons. The tail is usually straight or curled, or is embellished like a leaf motif. Sometimes the tail has another, smaller dragon-head. Here are some examples:
Many of these dragons have curled tails, and long wavy ears are easy to find in both Latin and Hebrew manuscripts, but it is difficult to find pretzel tails. Sometimes one can find a clove-hitch tail or a Celtic-knot tail, but they are generally more ornate and decorative than the pretzel-tail:
Ornate tail with double loop, Felice Feliciano, Verona, Italy, c. 1472
This Bohemian dragon has a pretzel tail, but it is very tightly knotted, has an unusual right-angle and fleur-de-lis tail, and is drawn in a different style from the ones in the herbal manuscripts, with a scalloped outline:
Double curl, tight pretzel-knot and fleur-de-lis tail in Graz MS 287 (13th or 14th century?)
I searched long and hard for examples of pretzel tails and found one that is vaguely like a pretzel in a child’s marginal drawing in a Swiss manuscript:
Marginal drawing rotated [Codex Sang. 754, Glarus, Switzerland, c. 1466 or later]
I’m not sure if this one qualifies. It has a pretzel-tail but also a small dragon-head on the tail. It is early enough to have influenced 14th-century dragons, however, and not all apocalypse dragons have pretzel-tails, so perhaps the twirled tail inspired later artists:
Dragon with multiple heads and pretzel-tail. Bodley Ms 180, possibly London, c. 1272
Here is a pretzel-tail without the extra dragon-head, also from an apocalypse manuscript:
Pretzel-tail dragon in French apocalypse manuscript, c. 1360. A passage from Revelation.
I almost didn’t notice these two blue dragons. They are small and tucked away in the corners of very ornate folios. The one on the left isn’t quite a pretzel, it has an extra loop, but the one on the right qualifies:
Small blue pretzel-tail dragons embellishing the corners of ornate folios. It is easy to overlook them amidst all the other details [Morgan MS M.769, Regensburg, c. 1360].
I was starting to get discouraged. A lot of searching yielded only four manuscripts with pretzel-tail dragons. Then I found this:
Cambridge Pepys Library, Magdalene College, c. 1400
This find is significant because these are diagrams in a model book, specifically created for illustrators to copy. There are numerous dragons of different styles, but this one has a pretzel tail, wings, and long curved ears like those of the Masson group of manuscripts. The only problem is it may have been created a few years later and thus could not have influenced the herbal illustrators.
I haven’t located enough pretzel-tails to generalize about their origins, but the above examples are from England, France, and southern Germany (and possibly Bohemia for the one that is tightly knotted). One thing is clear, they are not common, but they are apparently not localized either.
So let’s get back to the plants, and the Voynich Manuscript…
Is Aristolochia in the VMS?
Are there any drawings in the VMS that resemble drawings of Aristolochia rotunda?
In general, medieval drawings of Aristolochia are slightly viny (some of them are distinctly viny), and most of them have heart-shaped leaves. The arrangement of the leaves is not very accurate—sometimes alternate, sometimes opposite (in real life, Aristolochia leaves are alternate, and lightly clasp the stem).
Flowers are usually only shown in English manuscripts, most of the others omit them. The flowers are in between the leaves. No one drew the seedheads, which look like tiny indented green watermelons.
What about the VMS “dragon” and the nearby plant?
There is a small critter that vaguely resembles a dragon on VMS f25v but the plant has elliptical leaves arranged in a rosette and does not look like Aristolochia. Some have suggested this is a dog pulling out a mandrake plant, but the leaf veins are wrong for mandrake and mandrake was almost always drawn with berry-like fruits and a parsnip-like root.
Plant 25v is far more similar to plants like Plantago, False Hellebore (Veratrum album), Lilium, and Dracaena—plants with parallel veins and whorled leaves—than it is to Aristolochia.
Plantago is not usually shown with a dragon, but there are rare exceptions, as in BnF Latin 17844, which has a long-tailed dragon to the right of the plant. I am skeptical of there being a connection based only on this, however, because the 17844 illustrator drew numerous dragons.
Perhaps VMS 27v could be considered for Aristolochia. It’s slightly viny and has a puzzle root, but the flowers are completely wrong, the leaves are not heart-shaped or clasping, and the leaf margins are distinctly toothed, so I think 27v (left) is more likely to be something like Agrimony rather than Aristolochia. Agrimony even has a little star-like frilled calyx when it starts to go to seed—similar to the frill on the VMS flowerhead, and there are other plants with distinct frills.
One VMS plant that might qualify as Aristolochia is Plant 1v, which is somewhat viny, has a big lumpy root, and a rounded seedpod. However, there are other plants, like Hypericon and Nightshade that resemble VMS 1v more, and it’s possible the root is mnemonic rather than literal (it looks like a cross between a bear claw and a lump of fabric), so an ID of Aristolochia is tentative.
Summary
It was fun to look for dragons, but I haven’t seen a match for the Masson- or Udine-style dragon in the Voynich Manuscript. I’m not even certain the little critter on 27v is a dragon. Maybe it’s a giraffe-camel, or a turtle with long ears.
As for Aristolochia, lumpy roots can be drawn in many ways and the VMS small-plants section doesn’t include the whole plant, so it’s difficult to identify them with any certainty, but it’s possible that Aristolochia (rotunda or longa) is in there… somewhere.
On folio 84r of the Voynich Manuscript, there is a drawing of textured niches, with a row of nymphs below its arches. Between groups of nymphs one might expect columns, but instead there are wavy lines painted blue, resembling a flow of liquid. The nymphs are thigh-deep in water that has been painted green. As with some of the other water-related drawings, the textures and “drips” give it a grotto-like feeling.
To the left is a pipe-shape with a large opening at the top and a smaller one at the bottom. A thinner rivulet connects the image to another pond pic at the bottom. Note that the water-like pools and rivulets on the left are blue.
In the top-left is a scaly textured mass that reminds me of the shape in the corner of 86v (right). It holds a high position and appears to have something pouring out of it (air? water? spiritual emanations?).
Each archway is adorned with hanging-bead curtains, but since I don’t think the VMS is a drug-induced 1960s-era hallucination, perhaps the “curtain” shapes represent dripping water or an artistically shadowed backdrop.
Pinpointing the Poses
To me, the nymphs have always looked very posed, like actors demonstrating something, or as though they were frozen in time. When I first saw it, the middle illustration on 84r reminded me of frames from an animation, or a sequence of movements in which one nymph’s motion follows from that of the previous, as though each one were waiting her turn in line:
Part of the reason they look so posed is the formulaic way in which they are drawn, but these poses have always intrigued me because they seemed somehow familiar.
Here is a 13th century image of Tisbe and Piramus, the famous lovers who whispered sweet nothings through a crack in the wall—the forbidden love that inspired Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream:
Even though they are quite posed, I don’t get the feeling the nymphly pool party was inspired by this story, so I looked for other examples.
There is too much on this folio to cover in one blog, so I’ll constrain my comments to the nymphs at the top, under the arched textures.
Posing in Pairs
Let’s look at how the nymphs are arranged…
At the top of 84r are four tightly coupled pairs and two nymphs who look like they might be holding hands from farther away. Flanking them are two additional nymphs that seem slightly set apart from the others, as though engaged in a different role.
Some of the nymphs are partly obscured by their pair-mates, and the paired nymphs are back-to-back as though they just passed each other.
I can’t quite tell if some of the couples have their elbows entwined, because the drawing isn’t very good, but there is almost a suggestion of this in at least one of the pairs. Their gestures are distinctive because they are expansive and seem to point beyond the confines of the niche:
It was the pairing and extended hands that drew my attention to a Byzantine relief sculpture with archways and paired figures:
Byzantine marble sarcophagus courtesy of The Met [public domain]. This fragment may have originated in Rome, but also passed through Paris and New York so it’s difficult to know where it might have been seen and how many artists it might have influenced.
Note the shell-like “curtains” at the back of the niche, with their downward-pointing lines and lightly scalloped edges, and how the gestures of some of the figures seem to point at something beyond the archways:
The nymph on the left is posed similarly to the figure on the sarcophagus, but the one on the right seems to be in some kind of LSD-induced reverie. She looks like she is about to serenely leap off a cliff. Or perhaps, in a moment of zen, she knocked her opponent to the ground with the heel of her board-breaking hand. Well, maybe not. There might be other explanations…
For some interesting ideas on VMS poses, refer to K. Gheuen’s blog.
Is there some overall pattern to the nymphs’ gestures that might explain the poses? Are these poses typical or uncommon?
Pairs and Poses on Sarcophagi
This row of figures, similar to the fragment in The Met, is on a sarcophagus from the Alyscamps cemetery, in Arles, Provençe:
Christ with scroll and figures in groups of two and three on the Alyscamps c. 4th century sarcophagus [courtesy of Ad Meskens, Wikipedia].
Christ stands in the center, flanked by figures in twos and threes within scalloped archways, but the gestures and poses in this relief are not as close to the VMS as the relief in the Met.
The arrangement of the figures in pairs, with one obscured by the other, and the slightly more expansive gestures, is similar to another 4th-century sarcophagus in the Gregoriano Profano Museum, but it lacks the shell-like embellishments and archways:
The theme of many of these sarcophagi is traditio legis and Christ is often shown at the center of apostles and evangelists handing a scroll to St. Peter. There are twelve nymphs, a number associated with apostles, but there is no suggestion of a Christ-like figure or evangelists in the VMS pool party.
This example of traditio legis, from Chartres cathedral, differs from the VMS and The Met sarcophagus in a number of ways, including the elevated position of Christ and symbols for the four evangelists. Below them, each apostle has his own archway, in groups of one or three between the pillars. The poses are constrained, and the gestures do not point to a distance beyond:
Traditio legis relief carvings in a portal of the Chartres cathedral [source Urban, Wikipedia].
The tympanum of the south portal of the Abbey Church of St. Pierre, Moissac (12th century) is similar in arrangement to the one at Chartres, except that the apostles are sitting, and a wavy cloudband (instead of arches) separates the Christ imagery from the apostles:
The figures of a sarcophagus from the Basilica of S. Ambrogio, Milan, are also quite constrained. They are arranged in a tidy row, slightly overlapping, and there are no fully-extended hand gestures. There are archways, but they are narrow, and placed behind (rather than around) the figures:
There is a large, very ornate relief in the tympanum of the abbey S. Foy à Conqes in France. The lower left corner feature twelve figures in pairs within archways, surrounding a Christ figure with his arms around two smaller figures:
Tympanum of the Abbey St. Foy in Conque [Daniel Villafruela, Wikimedia]
But the figures all look very respectable and constrained, no expansive gestures.
What we find is that pairs of figures within archways, combined with expressive highly extended gestures, are not common. It also seems to be easier to find VMS-like paired-poses in relief sculptures than in manuscripts, a situation that is reminiscent of some of the earliest VMS zodiac themes, which appeared on churches before they became common in manuscripts.
Another Viewpoint
Moving away from the arches for a moment, could there be another reason the nymphs are extending their arms and shown in pairs? Is it possible they are dancing?
The two VMS nymphs to the right look like they might be holding hands through the stream of liquid, and the two on the left look like they might be about to touch hands, so there is a hint of interaction between them. In fact, pairing may exist in two different senses. There are pairs in which the nymphs are very close together, but back-to-back, and there might also be pairs where the nymphs are farther apart but making eye contact:
Are these poses similar to historical images of dance?
In this c. 480 BCE cippus (tomb-marker), a piper stands in the middle as two toga-clad figures dance with gestures that are reminiscent of Egyptian styles, and similar to today’s Middle Eastern and Eastern dances (note the angles of the elbows and wrists). The style of pose is even more apparent on the accompanying face (right) with three dancers:
Greco-Roman cippus (Etruscan period) courtesy of The Trustees of the British Museum.
This style of cippus and dancing pose was commonly depicted on funerary art in central Italy around the 5th century BCE, when Etruscans flourished in this area.
It has been asserted that the Etruscans came from a different language-family than Indo-European and that their DNA history is somewhat diverse (with a segment originating in Turkey). It is, in some cases, unique (neither European nor Middle Eastern). It has also been suggested that the Etruscans originated from the Sea Peoples, some of which are said to have migrated to the Middle East. Whatever their origin, these poses are more similar to Middle Eastern than to early modern European dance styles, perhaps through the Turkish connection.
If the VMS nymphs are dancing, the cippus style is not the style we see in the drawings.
And where are the women?
Woman in Motion
By now it should be apparent that most of the previous examples of figures in archways are male
Are there women in archways posed like the VMS nymphs? Do they compare to the VMS in terms of organization and gestures? Are the nymphs symbolic of mythical figures, people in general, or are they specifically meant to be female?
Here is an early Roman relief with three nymphs dancing:
Early Roman-era relief, three nymphs dancing [Christelle Molinié, Wikidata & SBMA]
The background is plain, no archways or shells. The head poses are provocative, but otherwise these nymphs look very chaste, dressed from head to ankle, with their hands barely showing, and the hands are simply clutching the drapes of the nearby nymph, not calling attention to themselves.
Women within Archways
This old Pagan relief found in Carrawbrough features three water nymphs each with her own containers—one held high, the other illustrating the flow of water, each within her own archway:
Three nymphs with jugs within archways, from Coventina’s well, Carrawbrough
This imagery probably descended from Pagan representations of the three water-nymphs (a trio of nymphs was a very common theme in Roman art) flanked by the god Zeus and Pan, but this older example does not include archways and the figures look at the viewer rather than interacting among themselves:
Three Nymphs with shell-like vessels flanked by Zeus and Pan [Photo of Limstone relief of The Trustees of the British Museum (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)]
There is a relief of three dancing nymphs from Saladinovo (c. 2nd century BCE) in the Archaeological Museum of Sofia where the nymphs are more animated and the scarf-like fabric that flows around them almost has the effect of archways (the image is copyrighted by the Lessing archive, but you can view it here).
Here is a scene with Apollo, Athena, and the nine Muses, with two pairs on either side of the central figures, but the gestures are not expansive and the figures are not within archways:
Apollo and Muses [The Trustees of the British Museum (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)]
Another Christian-themed example of figures within arches is the story of Adam and Eve and their expulsion from the garden, shown here in a Modena relief by Wiligelmo:
The creation of Adam and Eve and their expulsion from the garden on the Cathedral of Modena in Italy [Photo Sailko, Wikipedia]
The Modena relief is interesting because it doesn’t just show a static event, it is, in a sense, a cartoon-strip style, with each section representing a different event in time. In other words, this storytelling format existed not only in medieval manuscripts, but in relief carvings as well, lending strength to the possibility that the multitude of figures in the VMS might not always be different people, perhaps some of them are the same figure in different points of time.
Myths and Muses
Something a little closer to the VMS pool party is an Italian sarcophagus with nine muses. In the center is a single figure separated from the paired nymphs on either side by two theatrical masks. It is similar in form to the traditio legis except it has a Pagan rather than a Christian theme.
So one can find women in pairs in archways, but the figures don’t overlap as much as the VMS characters and the gestures are less expansive:
As we go farther east, we see increasing differences in clothing and the ethnic features of the figures, but there are some similar themes. Here is one with figures in groups of two to four within niches, but there are no arches or out-reaching hands
It seems that groups of woman in motion are largely dance-themed.
There is a pre-Roman Peucetian fresco in Ruvo di Puglia, Italy (c. 5th century BCE) that features a row of fully robed women dancing, each one holding hands with the second person behind:
Peucetian tomb fresco of a row of women dancing, Le Musée absolut, Phaidon, Wikipedia. Note the similarity to the Greek tomb painting shown farther below.
There are no arches, but the gestures are a little more expansive and interactive than most of the relief sculptures.
In the next example, male and female dancers alternate and the action of their feet is more lively (this particular theme of “line dancing”, with hands touching, is quite common in ancient Greek art):
From a Greek tomb painting, c. 400 BCE
And this example from the 4th century BCE is quite unrestrained, one of the few with truly expansive gestures (perhaps a little too much Retsina), although there’s no actual physical contact between the figures:
There is a legend about the nine muses dancing with Apollo, and here we see them in a painting by Baldassare Peruzzi (c. 1510) based on traditional imagery:
In some of the earlier depictions, Apollo was to one side of the muses, playing a lyre.
Stylistically, these western dances are quite different from eastern depictions, some of which can be seen here.
Illuminations
The above images are mostly on frescoes and relief sculptures. What about imagery in manuscripts? As I’ve mentioned before, when writing about the zodiacs, it was easier for most people to view architectural art than to have access to a manuscript. A manuscript cost about a year’s wages, sometimes much more. There were a few chained libraries, but most of the manuscripts were in the private collections of kings and nobles. Embellishments on public buildings and open-air sarcophagi were free.
Nevertheless, I tried to find examples that might bear some relationship to the VMS in manuscript art.
In the Florentine Homer (1466), Homer is surrounded by nine muses (one behind his shoulder) and four wise men. There are roundels rather than arches, and each nymph is in a different pose. In total, there are 14 figures, so it doesn’t quite match up with numbers in the VMS:
British Library. In this title page to the Florentine Greek “Iliados”, Homer surrounded by nine muses and four additional figural medallions, 1466 [Harley MS 5600].
But muses would only account for nine dancers and the VMS has 12. If there is any connection between the VMS and classical literature, that discrepancy might be resolved by the three graces, who were sometimes shown together with the nine muses:
Dance of the Muses at Mount Helicon (1807). “For it is through the Muses and far-shooting Apollo that there are singers and harpers upon the earth…” –Hesiod, Theogony [Bertel Thorvaldsen, Alte Nationalgaleirie, Wikipedia].
And then, of course, to come back to a more literal interpretation of the VMS drawings, there are images of bathers in outdoor environments.
In the Bhagavatapurana, in a tropical locale with fast moving water, the gestures of bathers are quite expansive and almost like dancing. However, this version postdates the VMS by about a century-and-a-half. In general, expansive gestures are easier to find in later manuscripts than in earlier ones:
In De Balneis Puteolanis from the 14th century, bathers are shown within archways, in groups of two or three. This spa in the Naples region was still in operation at the time the VMS was created (it was destroyed by a volcanic eruption in 1538):
Bathers within archways in The baths of Pozzuoli, BnF Latin 8161 [c. mid 1300s]
This c. 1400 version of De Balneis from Italy not only has bathers within arches, but the gestures are fairly lively:
The figures don’t quite have the “posed” look of the VMS nymphs, however. The Pozzuoli image looks more like recorded history than a morality play.
It is interesting to note, however, that the image expresses two sets of activities. At the top are people rinsing their faces and talking, on the bottom are people more fully immersed, some of whom might be swimming.
The VMS also has levels. In the top image, the nymphs seem to be dancing. In the second one, below it, they look more like they are washing. In the third, one is bent over with her hand on her buttocks (washing her butt?) and most of the others have their hands by their butts, as well. A nymph on the left holds out an object… is it a sponge?
Here is a 17th-century depiction of nymphs bathing in arched grottoes, with the natural structures enhanced with added stonework. Could the VMS setting be based on something like this?
Nymphs bathing by Abraham van Coylenborch, 17th-century Flemish painting.
Summary
I can’t tell if the top pool of the 84r is meant to be literal or allegorical, but I think there’s something extra going on in the arrangement of the nymphs. If it’s a literal representation, maybe the pool party included dancing. Dancing was a very popular form of entertainment before television was invented, and every well-born person was expected to know basic steps.
Or maybe the nymphly poses are telling some kind of a story, as in the panels of Piramus and Tisbe. Either way, pictures of dancers with expressive gestures in the style of the VMS, set within archways, were not common in the early 15th century, so it might be significant that the closest parallel I have found so far for the gestures, was on a Byzantine sarcophagus that traveled from Rome, possibly through Paris, and eventually ended up in the United States.
Butcher’s broom is a fascinating plant. It is native to Eurasia and is found in many medieval herbals. It has distinctive flowers and colorful fruits that are aligned with the inner part of the leaf when they first emerge. The branches and leaves are stiff, yet resilient enough to be used for broom-making.
Plant with Polka Dots
Here is a large-sized image of butcher’s broom, Ruscus aculeatus. Note the position of the flowers within the leaf:
But if you look closely, you will notice there is a stalk. It’s very slender so the flowers almost appear to be growing out of the leaf, an illusion that was emphasized by many medieval illustrators.
Even Elizabeth Blackwell drew it this way (which is not 100% accurate, since the fruits tend to hang down when they get ripe, but it gets across the impression that most people have of the plant).
But it isn’t just an illusion…
Some species of Ruscus have a flower that actually grows out of the leaf.
For example, Ruscus hypoglossum, also called Alexandrina’s laurel, and Ruscus hypophyllum have this charming adaptation:
Ruscus hypophyllum flowers and Ruscus hypoglossum berries growing from the inner part of the leaf [Images: Laurha of España and A. Karpov, Wikipedia]
Many species of this plant are shrubby and have a fairly extensive rhizome (side-growing root from which new shoots may emerge). R. hypoglossum has an additional peculiarity, a little leaflet that covers the flower and sometimes looks like it’s pinching the berry, a quirk that inspired the name Double Tongue:
Medieval Ruscus
Both the unusual form of Ruscus and the fine-stemmed form of Ruscus are found in medieval herbals and many of them are drawn with dots on the leaves or red spots to represent the berries. Depending on the region and the species, they have names like Abrusca, Brusci, Brusse, and Bonifacia.
Some manuscripts included both kinds of Ruscus, but most of them chose one. Here are some examples from my files, from 14th- and 15th-century manuscripts:
Dots on Leaves
Is there a VMS plant with dots on the leaves? Yes. Plants 3r and 39r have dots, but there are many dots, drawn in lines, and the plants don’t look like Ruscus:
There is also a three-leaved plant in the small-plants section with dots on the leaves, but there isn’t enough detail to identify the plant. The label oraro isn’t much help either. It’s possible it is something like clover or medicago, which have spots or chevrons and which have leaves in groups of three, but it’s difficult to know for sure.
Plant 7v
What about Plant 7v? It has a prominent spot in the middle of each leaf. Could it be Ruscus?
No, I don’t think so. Obviously the dots are not flowers or seeds because the seedhead is at the top of the stalk. It’s a different kind of plant from Ruscus, one with a nicely drawn basal rosette, red and green leaves (this is a common trait in plants of this shape). It appears to have hairy or spiny leaves (I’m leaning toward hairy since there are other VMS plants that have more pointy margins that might be spiny). In contrast to the VMS plant, Ruscus leaves are smooth and very distinctly green.
Plant 7v has a tap root, Ruscus has a lumpy rhizome.
So if it’s not Ruscus, what is it?
Some plants have spots that are part of the plant. For example, some species of Orchis and Arum have brown speckles. Pulmonaria has numerous whitish spots (in fact, I think Plant 39r might represent Pulmonaria).
Some plants have specific parasites or diseases that consistently create spots. Some have spots that look like rust (e.g., Saxifraga mutata).
Overall Shape & Characteristics
There is a group of smallish herbs that look like VMS 7v. Most of them are small-to-medium-sized in height. They all have a tall slender central stalk and several of them have rounded seedheads. A few of the leaves grow up the stalk, but most are concentrated at the base in a whorl. Many of them are hairy.
This group of plants often has a mixture of red and green leaves later in the year when the plant goes to seed, and many of them have tap roots or a few fine tendrils similar in shape to buttercup roots.
Some of them have spots, some of them have little bumps on the leaves that look like spots because they are sufficiently raised to create shadows (e.g., Arabis, Erophila, Limonium, Silene sedoides, some species of Androsace, and Draba).
Here are some examples showing the overall form. Note the basal rosettes on the herbarium specimen bottom right is most similar in orientation to the VMS drawing. Basal rosettes were often drawn as though flattened in medieval manuscripts:
There are also plants that look like 7v that catch dew on their leaves, which make round sparkly dots, and have little teeth on the edges of the leaves, like Lewisia cotyledon. Some plants are incurved and collect a single drop of dew, but not all of them have hairy leaves.
It’s hard to choose among these plants. They are all very similar and all have distinctive bumps or spots, and many have red leaves mixed with the green, or are distinctly red and green later in the year, but the VMS seedheads appear to be somewhat rounded, and Arabis tends to produce long narrow pods, so perhaps Arabis is less likely than some of the others. Draba has rounded seedpods but it’s still difficult to eliminate the others.
Summary
I hope it is clear from these examples that Plant 7v is not likely to be Butcher’s broom. It has the wrong overall shape and a completely different seed stalk. Which of the rosette herbs it might be is difficult to say, but the seedheads are more similar to Draba and Silene than most of the others.
![Emanations from an architectural support (under which is a dove) [BNF NAL 3226]](https://voynichportal.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/HoursBNFNAL3226.jpg)
