Skip to content

Cart

Your cart is empty

Continue shopping

The Garden of Hildegarde

Jul 9, 2025

In the 12ᵗʰ century, behind the walls of Rupertsberg Abbey, an abbess observed, wrote, and transmitted. Hildegard of Bingen (1098–1179) — Benedictine nun, mystic, and visionary — was also a physician, naturalist, composer, and philosopher. Her gaze upon nature was not that of a simple herbalist, but of a thinker who perceived the universe as a web of correspondences where plant, animal, and human realms constantly converse. Her works, notably Physica and Causae et Curae, have endured through the centuries to become essential references.

The notion of a “Garden of Hildegard” today evokes a contemporary reading of her writings: a space gathering the medicinal plants she described, and a symbolic place expressing her vision of health as global harmony. For her, no strict boundary existed between body and spirit — treating indigestion or soothing anxiety belonged to the same logic: restoring balance.

Among her favored plants, fennel holds a special place. Hildegard attributed to it digestive, respiratory, and even spiritual virtues. Chewing a fennel seed, she wrote, “brings joy and sweetens the breath.” Even today, its essential oils are valued for relieving bloating and easing respiration.

Sage — called “the one that saves” by the Ancients — embodied for Hildegard the plant of protection. She prescribed it to fortify the body and purify the mind, linking it to both strengthened defenses and clarity of thought. Through sage emerges a remarkably modern vision of immunity: an equilibrium between physical resilience and inner stability.

Galangal, more exotic, reflects Hildegard’s openness to the wider world. Imported from Asia, this spicy root was seen as a stimulant for the heart and vital energy. Her writings show she perceived in the warmth of spices a way to rebalance the humors — those bodily fluids believed in medieval medicine to govern health. Today, her intuition endures in the cardiotonic and digestive uses of galangal.

Clover, humble and ubiquitous, represents the simplicity of everyday care. Hildegard recommended it for its benefits to the lungs and breathing. It reminds us that, in her approach, the most accessible plants — those of fields, meadows, and ditches — were worth as much as the rare essences brought from afar.

But Hildegard’s genius lies not merely in her catalogue of remedies — it resides in her vision of the whole. Humanity, she wrote, is a microcosm reflecting the order of the macrocosm. Illness arises when harmony is broken, when the bond with creation frays. Plants, in this sense, act as mediators: they restore order, reintegrating the human being into the rhythm of nature.

This outlook, seemingly mystical, finds unexpected resonance today. Modern phytotherapy confirms several of her intuitions: fennel’s digestive benefits, sage’s anti-inflammatory power, the tonic role of spices. Yet beyond molecules, it is Hildegard’s philosophy that continues to inspire — health understood as a balance both physical, mental, and spiritual.

Across Europe, monasteries and associations are recreating gardens inspired by her writings. There grow her emblematic plants — spelt, fennel, sage, galangal, thyme, mint — arranged as living witnesses of an ancient wisdom. These spaces are not mere botanical conservatories but places of experience: to breathe a mint leaf, to observe a spelt ear rising, to touch a galangal root is to reconnect with a medicine that is sensory, intuitive, embodied.

The modern success of “Hildegardian nutrition,” centered on spelt and moderation, shows how her legacy extends far beyond herbal medicine. It offers a way of life — a manner of reconnecting with oneself and with the world. In an age marked by stress, fatigue, and the search for meaning, Hildegard re-emerges as a timeless figure of wisdom.

The Garden of Hildegard, then, is not a medieval relic but a living space — an invitation to regard nature not as a storehouse of resources to be exploited, but as an ally. Fennel, sage, galangal, clover, and so many others are more than remedies: they are messengers, carrying a vision in which healing, contemplation, and spirituality are intertwined.