“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.
