There are a few variations on the Christogram, a monogram representing the name of Jesus. One of the oldest, and probably most well-known still today is the Chi-Rho symbol which combines the first two letters of the Greek word ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ.
However, in the Latin Middle Ages, a different Christogram became more popular: IHS (with equivalent variations IHC, JHS, JHC, YHS…). These are the first letters of “Jesus” in Greek: ΙΗΣΟΥΣ. There are countless ways of writing these various combinations. Sometimes the letters are clear and clean, but often flourishes are added, as well as a horizontal line on the ascender to form a cross.
When I first learned about this Christogram, it reminded me of certain mysterious “letters” placed right in the middle of a Voynich “flower”. Like everything Voynich, these characters have been the subject of debate and speculation, with little consensus.
In the image above, you can compare the scribble to the standard Voynichese text. It is small and shy, but it appears deliberate; the strokes are distinct and complex, placed right in the middle of a flower shaped like a blazing sun.
Given the small size of the strokes, different people will interpret them differently. However, it is possible to see them as a slightly distorted IHS. There’s an extra stroke under the first character, and the horizontal is placed in such a way to create a 7 instead of a cross. So again, this is one possible interpretation of the strokes, one which assumes IHS was meant, and I realize there are other options.
When I first saw this, I didn’t make much of it since the placement of the text on what looks like a blazing sun didn’t ring a bell. But as I looked around, I started noticing IHS in suns all around, especially from the 16th century to modern day.
As it turns out, this was, and still is, the emblem of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits), which they adopted in the 16th century.
But the history of the sun-IHS starts earlier, and we know exactly in which year: 1417. [3] It was then that Italy’s most influential preacher of the time held it aloft in front of crowds of thousands wherever his travels took him, and forced it into people’s minds and onto the walls of their churches and homes.
Even if there is no link between it and the VM, I found its history by itself interesting enough to write a post about.
St Bernardino of Siena and the primacy of the Holy Name
Bernardino of Siena was a popular travelling preacher, and a determined hater of witches, Jews and homosexuals. But he was also a peacemaker in an Italy that suffered under political turmoil, partizan violence and petty wars. His sermons drew thousands of listeners, and soon he had to move his pulpit onto public squares, since the churches had become too small to house his audience. He is regarded as the greatest Italian preacher of his generation, one of the most famous Italians of his time, and his example made the focus of the Franciscans’ activities shift from poverty to preaching.
There was one thing Bernardino loved above everything else: the name of Jesus Christ. Like, literally the name “Jesus”. For him, it was a holy word of light, with the power to overcome depravity and political conflict. If he could make the people love and venerate the name of Christ, so he thought, this would save their souls and society as a whole.
So in 1417 he came up with a plan: he combined the IHS Christogram (his version was the equivalent YHS) with a blazing sun, and showed this symbol to the crowds at his sermons. Thus, he reached thousands all over Italy. By 1425, the people of Siena demanded Bernardino’s sun be painted on their town hall, and it is still there today.
From Illuminating Jesus in the Middle Ages [2]: “We are told that [Bernardino’s] climactic holding aloft of the monogram table at the end of his sermons produced spontaneous weeping and cries of ‘Giesù! Giesù!’ and ‘Misericordia!’ as his listeners fell to their knees. Whilst these outward displays appear, in part, to have been expressions of joy and love for Jesus, the overwhelming impression from the descriptions is that they were outpourings of compunction for sin, brought about by Bernardino’s preaching, which he then channelled into civic peace-making between rival parties through public rituals of reconciliation.”
Bernardino’s dedication to the Name led to considerable disquiet among authorities in Italy, and he was tried for heresy and “word-magic” in 1426 and 1431. His books were examined, and for a short time in 1427, the Pope forbade him to use his monogram tablet. Still, his “use of the monogram to heal party strife within the Italian civic elites and its subsequent prominent display on civic and church buildings rendered it a symbol of the fifteenth-century Italian political establishment as well as of domestic and personal piety. The popularity of Bernardino’s monogram was perhaps not surprising in a society that widely employed religious and secular images to signify political allegiance.”
Guelphs and Ghibelline Merlons
The political struggles I mentioned are best exemplified by the division between the Guelphs and Ghibellines. Both factions came to the fore in the 12th century, and the distinction only became obsolete by the mid-16th century. Their conflict is long and complex, but basically the Guelphs supported the Pope, while the Ghibellines backed the Holy Roman Empire.
I first learned about Guelphs and Ghibellines a few years ago, because it is a topic of interest for those who study the Voynich Manuscript. One way both factions distinguished themselves was by the shape of the merlons on their castles: the Guelphs used the standard square shape, while the Ghibellines built swallowtail merlons. These Ghibelline merlons are also depicted on the Voynich 9-rosettes foldout; they are arguably the most telling architectural element on this folio, and indeed in the whole manuscript.
It was in these circumstances that Bernardino of Siena became known as a peacemaker, opposing such political strife. He got along with Popes (who were always quick to acquit him of heresy), and provided counsel to Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund, attending his coronation in Rome, 1433. Below is an example from one of his sermons, “Against the Guelphs and Ghibellines and other productions of party spirit”:
Perhaps some are surprised that I speak so severely against these parties, but the answer is supplied by sad experience. The plague comes into a city and many die, but many remain alive, and generally they are the larger part. But let the faction of Guelphs or Ghibellines, or any other, enter a city, and it is the greatest wonder if any escape, without at least in course of time joining, or being thought to join, one side or the other, as I indeed, to my astonishment and surprise, know from certain experience.
An important reason Bernardino was so intent on promoting his YHS-sunburst was that he explicitly intended this symbol to replace faction “badges”. As such, the Bernardine monogram became a political symbol itself. If you want to take people’s minds off political quibbling (and sins like sodomy) you need to give them something to direct their attention towards instead.
Bernardino lived in a world of visual symbols. And the symbol he created had “celebrity cachet”, as Emily Michelson put it. While in Perugia, he had it inscribed at least twice on each of the thirty most visited churches. He first used his YHS-sun in 1417, while preaching in Ferrara, a city that was at that time ruled by the House of Este and boasts a beautiful Palazzo Municipale with Ghibelline merlons.
However, the talisman-like monogram was not without its controversy, and ultimately it became a taboo subject (even though, paradoxically, it was known and visible all around). This becomes clear when he was canonized soon after his death. “Of thirty-three articles confirming the case for Bernardino’s canonization, none mentions the monogram or even Bernardino’s devotion to the name of Jesus.” [3]
In the VM?
I’ve been writing about Bernardino and his monogram for a long time, without really linking back to the VM flower. This is because I first wanted to get to the bottom of the history and significance of the symbol – it is rare that the case is so clear-cut. Of course, the connection to the VM is much less certain.
Bernardino and his monogram are depicted often and early in painting, but unfortunately I have not yet been able to locate examples of the symbol in manuscripts before the 1440’s. The earliest was found by J.K. Petersen, dated to 1446 (two years after Bernardino’s death):
Other examples occur later in the 15th century:
http://ica.themorgan.org/manuscript/page/3/77333
http://ica.themorgan.org/manuscript/77105
http://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/ILLUMIN.ASP?Size=mid&IllID=36098
The most obvious difference is that in the real monograms, text proudly fills the centre of the sun. Not so in the VM, where whatever-is-written is even a tad smaller than regular text. Going into full theorist mode, one could suppose that for some reason any Christian references in the VM had to be hidden. In that case, it would obviously be a bad idea to place a giant IHS in the middle of a “sun-flower”.
While the text remains unclear, we did learn that a sun with a short inscription was a common sight in the early 15th century land of Ghibelline merlons. It is not so unlikely, then, that the VM shape was inspired by Bernardino’s sun-monogram, even if it may not be a direct representation of it.
NOTES
[1] Meussig, Carolyn. “Bernardine of sienna and Obervant Preaching as a Vehicle for religious Transformation”, A Companion to Observant Reform in the Late Middle Ages and Beyond, (James Mixson and Bert Roest, eds.) Brill, 2015
[2] Illuminating Jesus in the Middle Ages (BRILL) p.145-152
[3] Emily Michelson, “Bernardino of Siena Visualizes the Name of God,” in: Speculum Sermonis: Interdisciplinary Reflections on the Medieval Sermon, ed. Georgiana Donavin, Cary J. Nederman, and Richard Utz (Turnhout: Brepols, 2004), pp. 157-79.
Koen, it was believed that the Chi-Ro symbol (otherwise known as the Labarum or vexillum) had been that which Constantine carried, after having had a vision in which he heard that “in this sign thou shalt conquer” – if I recall the quote correctly.
Come to think of it, since it’s about medieval Christian history – the Catholic Encyclopaedia will probably have the fullest treatment…
here it is
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/08717c.htm
Cheers
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PS I agree that the use of the so-called Ghibbeline (‘imperial’) merlonscan be read literally in some cases, but you need a lot of work to know for sure when it is, and when it’s just a generic ‘imperial’ – as it was on Crusader forts, meaning only that it was governed by the H.R. Emperor, not the local ruler. It is also used as sheer ornament. The party-politics aspect applies chiefly to castles built within the Italian peninsula, though the examples of Kaffa and Constantinople show that the ‘crusader’ style could apply to trade-ports. Especially those of Genoa, apparently.
It is also used just as ornament, as I say, and as a generic symbol for the ‘limit of empire’. I found examples of the style throughout the greater Mediterranean, though in many cases the buildings themselves are now destroyed, or vestigal.
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The scribble in the flower on f28v does not look like “IHS” to me. Please see the enlarged and enhanced scan of the original SID.
It looks like “4|||” with extra strokes over and under.
It seems clear to me that between the first and second “|” there is only the shadow of a dip in the parchment. The bottom of the second “|” is even pointing away from the first “|”. So I can not see an “H” there.
If anything it might read (highly speculative) “yellow”.
Perfectly logical because it is a common flower color, certainly at its heart.
It would be similar to the supposed red for “rot” in f4r (which I think to be highly speculative as well).
So how do I read “yellow” there?
The 4 with curve underneath could be “g”. (the last page f116v has a similar g bottom curve)
Following “i”. The dot above to the right might belong to it. Or it is part of the next letter: “l”. Concluded by “s” it would say “gils”.
Now to the wiktionary for the etymology of “yellow”.
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/yellow
Many start with “g”, followed by the sound of “i” as in gail, then “l”, and some end in an “s” sound. Pronounced maybe like “gailus”
Like I said, highly speculative, since I am no expert at this at all.
But can any linguist out there shine some light?
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It could still be YHS if the first two vertical bars belong to the Y and the last two to the H. The S and the H share the same vertical bar, the last one.
So the “7” could be the cross shaped part of the H. These letters are tiny so must be imprecise.
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Koen First, it’s a pity we can’t have a proper conversation in a general meeting place, but there you go..
In the comment you left (thank-you) to my post at annotated.., you said
“any explanation is to why the VM appears light on explicit and unambiguous cultural markers remains speculative”.
As it happens, I don’t agree that the Vms is light on such markers, nor that the matter remains speculative.n any case, there is no reason at all it should have remained speculative, though the fact is that many have preferred to deal with it by speculation rather by sober investigation.
More to the present point – you speak of “three types of reasons why [a Christian] would hide Christian symbols in plant images.”
But though you may not need to specify any particular person, or place, I think it would help if you could at least demonstrate that your theory/speculation/idea isn’t positively anti-historical and do so with 1438 as endpoint.
That eliminates the Jesuits’ use of the IHS symbol, and as you say it was not until 1417 that Bernadino is recorded as writing the Christogram in this form – when he did so most openly and enthusiastically, apparently.
At this time, too, any ‘missionary’ scenario becomes extremely narrow: both as to classes of people (Franciscans and a few Dominicans) and the range within which they were travelling. Earlier would have been better. If you’re imagining anti-iconic hordes stoning Christian missionaries – well, the missionary tended to be very public about his beliefs and as willing to accept ‘martydom’ as a soldier is to accept death in battle. But the historical accounts don’t suggest that it was a picture in a private book which set people off; it was standing in the market place blaspheming (as the people saw it). Polytheists tended to be accepting of other religious beliefs, as monotheists tend not to be.
So for me, this is the problem in evaluating the ideas in your post. You haven’t demonstrated yet that it belongs to real history and not Voynich history.
PS. – Speaking of which.. could you provide info about the primary source for the statement that Bernadino first wrote this version of the Christogram in Ferrara in 1417? Thanks.
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Hmm yes, quite right, this is the reason why I admit I can only speculate about reasons so far. I will allow myself a “tu quoque” fallacy here and point out that you face a similar problem in demonstrating that a culture existed which disliked drawing living things on the one hand, but had no problem drawing hundreds of naked female forms on the other. We can think of it as a possible scenario, but the concrete evidence is hard to find.
We will probably agree that the VM is not a *mainstream* product of any culture. So whoever did it may have left little tangible evidence for us to support such claims.
About Bernardinus, I must admit that I became interested in his story by itself and probably persued it further than was strictly necessary here.
For the source, I got it from : Emily Michelson, “Bernardino of Siena Visualizes the Name of God,” in: Speculum Sermonis: Interdisciplinary Reflections on the Medieval Sermon, ed. Georgiana Donavin, Cary J. Nederman, and Richard Utz (Turnhout: Brepols, 2004), pp. 157-79.
Here’s the section where she introduces this place and date: “Bernardino’s tablet portraying the monogram of the name of Jesus seems to have appeared first in Ferrara in 1417, after he preached in that city.11 For the rest of his life, Bernardino would display it at his sermons and advocate it as an aid to faith.
The manner in which he did this is directly recorded by the scribe at the end of one of the sermons of his 1424 Florentine cycle”
Her source is: Delcomo, Prediche Volgari, 7n; T. Lombardi, Presenza e culto disan Bernardino da
Siena nel ducato estense (Ferrara: Centro culturale citta di Ferrara, 1981), p. 16n.
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Koen – no I don’t say that the imagery is the product of a (single) culture which on the one hand allowed images of naked women and on the other…. etc.
I strongly disagree with any ‘monocultural’ assumptions and find it more surprising that so much should remain, despite evidence of transmission, of what had been the original stratum in this imagery.
About Bernadino and his ‘IHS’ .. here is the account given in the Catholic Encyclopaedia of 1917. Since these entries are derived directly from contemporary archives, they offer a good first point from which to start historical research, even if that research finds the older accounts include arguable details.
(Sorry the quote is so long, but I thought it might save you, and readers, hunting it up).
quote:
But Bernardine’s watchword, like that of St. Francis, was “Peace”. On foot he traversed the length and breadth of Italy peacemaking, and his eloquence was exercised with great effect towards reconciling the mutual hatred of Guelphs and Ghibellines.
At Crema, as a result of his preaching, the political exiles were recalled and even reinstated in their confiscated possessions. Everywhere Bernardine persuaded the cities to take down the arms of their warring factions from the church and palace walls and to inscribe there, instead, the initials I. H. S.
He thus gave a new impulse and a tangible form to the devotion to the Holy Name of Jesus which was ever a favourite topic with him and which he came to regard as a potent means of rekindling popular fervour. He used to hold a board in front of him while preaching, with the sacred monogram painted on it in the midst of rays and afterwards expose it for veneration.
This custom he appears to have introduced at Volterra in 1424.
At Bologna Bernardine induced a card-painter, who had been ruined by his sermons against gambling, to make a living by designing these tablets, and such was the desire to possess them that the man soon realized a small fortune.
In spite of his popularity — perhaps rather on account of it — Bernardine had to suffer both opposition and persecution.
He was accused of heresy, the tablets he had used to promote devotion to the Holy Name being made the basis of a clever attack by the adherents of the Dominican, Manfred of Vercelli, whose false preaching about Antichrist Bernardine had combated.
The saint was charged with having introduced a profane, new devotion which exposed the people to the danger of idolatry, and he was cited to appear before the pope. This was in 1427.
Martin V received Bernardine coldly and forbade him to preach or exhibit his tablets until his conduct had been examined. The saint humbly submitted, his sermons and writings being handed over to a commission and a day set for his trial.
The latter took place at St. Peter’s in presence of the pope, 8 June, St. John Capistran having charge of the saint’s defence.
The malice and futility of the charges against Bernardine were so completely demonstrated that the pope not only justified and commended the saint’s teaching, but urged him to preach in Rome.
end quote
So the ‘IHS’ was hugely popular, and it was the malice of an individual, not publc outrage, which apparently saw Bernadino accused.. and thus defended, and thus acquitted and positively encouraged to continue.
(slap in the face for Manfred, wasn’t it) 🙂
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Indeed, I have seen various dates proposed for the first introduction of the monogram, but I see little reason to doubt that it was 1417. But even if it was later, as you say, the thing was immensely popular in the 1420’s. I wonder if anyone in those cities Bernardino had visited was able to remain ignorant of it, since he had it put on churches and even squeezed it into political struggles.
So even leaving the Christian reading aside, I would say that a sun symbol with rays of this shape and a short inscription in the middle might be indicative of a certain time and region.
About the inscription, it is definitely unclear what it represents. Some people apparently think it’s fine to mock my IHS suggestion and then propose an alternative which requires even more squinting…
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As ever, my response is that of a grumpy structural engineer being asked to say what he thinks of architecture. )
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Hi Koen,
the façade of the Palazzo Municipale in Ferrara was built in the 1920s. Here you can see how the palace looked like in 1900 ca:
https://imgur.com/a/PzvJ33x
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Thanks, Marco. I remember now why I didn’t like researching ghibelline merlons 🙂
(Either way I like the Bellinzona city wall that was mentioned on the forum recently more).
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However it must be noted that the “new” façade is based on the historical remnants of the original building of the XIV century, like this window recovered in 1899:
The old building was heavily damaged through time, including an earthquake in 1570 that destroyed the original tower.
The merlons in Ferrara now are similar to those in Verona, that are true medieval merlons:
https://www.alamy.it/foto-immagine-castelvecchio-mantenere-e-merli-ghibellini-nel-centro-di-verona-99232125.html
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Unfortunately, it is not merlons of that sort – which I agree are the ‘true’ imperial style, and appear to have been adopted as the imperial type from an example in Sicily, on an old building that is said to have once been a phoenician temple (but that’s by the bye).
The schematised type which appear on the Voynich map and in other works of roughly that time, such as in the Zibaldone da Canal, now in the Beinecke library, should be read literally only with considerable caution, since we know that sharper type were also used in Crusader castles, and around the walls erected by Genoese and others around their trading ‘colonies’ to at least as far as the Black Sea. Few of the non-European structures still remain.. a wall at Caffa being one exception. But it is rather rash to presume (i) that the drawing on the Voynich map is a literal representation, rather than a schematic one (ii) that the structures represented can be matched by any building still extant or even that (iii) it meant a specific Ghibbeline allegiance (as it might within the Italian peninsula), and not the more general allusion to an allegiance to the western emperor – in effect, independence from the local powers. After all, crusaders and traders from both sides lived within those walls, and even within Italy, a wall ornamented with ‘Ghibbeline’ merlons by a father might well be occupied by a ‘Guelf’ son or grandson thereafter.
There is also the awkward fact that ‘merlons’ of this sort occur earlier than the Guelf/Ghibbeline disputes in Italy, and occur in other regions where they are also claimed traditional. All in all, I think one does well to avoid making any argument from a couple of jagged lines alone.
But that’s just my opinion/advice.
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