Fantastic bees and where to find them: Lessons on kingship in the Aberdeen Bestiary

What unexpected sorts of knowledge are revealed in a medieval book about curious animals, and why were bees considered a model society? The Aberdeen Bestiary has the answers.

Guy Fassler

6/10/20255 min read

Since the dawn of time humans have been observing nature. But have you ever wondered why? There are some obvious reasons: to identify what’s safe to eat, what dangers to avoid or resources we can use, as well as simply to satisfy our natural curiosity. But political punditry?

Bees in the Aberdeen Bestiary, f. 63r.
Bees in the Aberdeen Bestiary, f. 63r.

Bees in the Aberdeen Bestiary, f. 63r.

For medieval observers, looking closely at the animal kingdom was considered a worthwhile endeavour as it was full of valuable lessons about morality, religion, natural philosophy, and yes, politics. The reason for this relates to a prevalent philosophical opinion, which dates back to antiquity and has persisted until the emergence of modern science, that everything in our world is a reflection of a higher level of reality (Platonic ideas are a classic example). Therefore, studying our world closely could unlock hidden knowledge of this transcendental order. Put more monotheistically, our natural world is part of God’s creation and by examining the Creator’s work, scholars hoped, we could learn about Him.

The best understanding of the cosmos (from the Greek kosmos, meaning order) in the Middle Ages was that God is at the centre of creation and all are hierarchically subjected to Him (God, the angels, saints, then all the rest). This is reflected in a well-ordered human society (emperor/king, nobles, then all the rest) and even in the natural world, as we shall see.

Enter a new genre of books of knowledge dedicated to beasts called bestiaries. These books list important information and contain exempla or stories with moral lessons. Some of the creatures covered in these books were rather ordinary, but some were so exotic that one may even doubt their existence altogether (we’re talking dragons, phoenixes, etc). Here, though, we’ll focus on bees, which certainly do exist.

Bees and the Aberdeen Bestiary

The small, industrious insects who produced honey and wax, lived in harmonious communities, and upheld monarchical rule, were considered highly respectable by medieval learned people. But instead of Isidore of Seville, John of Salisbury or Thomas Aquinas, all eminent scholars who showed some interest in bees, let us look at the Aberdeen Bestiary.

The Aberdeen Bestiary is an opulently illuminated (i.e., decorated with gold leaf) manuscript which probably dates from the twelfth century and has English provenance (i.e., origins), was probably commissioned by the king or a high-ranking nobleman and ended up in the royal collection. It was later gifted by a librarian of James VI and I to Marischal College which later became part of the University of Aberdeen. The manuscript remained in Aberdeen, was scanned, translated and made freely accessible to the public here.

There’s a lot of interesting (and quirky) information about medieval beasts in general (the mythical bonnacon is a particular delight) but some observations of the humble bee are just as outlandish. For example, the explanation for the Latin name for bees, apes, was that because they were thought to be born without feet, hence, a (no) + pes, (Latin for foot). It was also thought that bees could be ‘created’ by ‘beating the meat of dead calves’ an action which generated worms out of the putrefied blood which later became bees. It was quite important to choose your dead flesh carefully, as if you beat a dead horse you may get hornets rather than bees, mules would produce drones, and dead donkeys would give out wasps.

Detail of Maastricht Book of Hours, BL Stowe MS.17, f. 148r
Detail of Maastricht Book of Hours, BL Stowe MS.17, f. 148r

Like many others, the author of the Aberdeen Bestiary was full of praise to these industrious pollinators. They lived and worked collaboratively and raised their young communally. They made honey, which everyone loves, and wax for good candles suitable for church (unlike the ones made from tallow which reek and produce a lot of soot). They also worked in harmony, were dutiful, and every bee always knew its place. It was a model society, indeed! Medieval observers also correctly identified a monarchic figure at the centre of bee society but unfortunately mistook it to be a king rather than a queen.

It is hard to know if this act of misgendering was deliberate, but it was certainly very useful to a significant group of political thinkers with aristocratic tendencies (meaning that the few best and brightest, or aristoi in Greek, should be in charge). They debated at length the nature of the desired monarchy, each highlighting different aspects, but would likely struggle to approve of a female ruler.

Details of bees and dog from Maastricht Book of Hours, BL Stowe MS.17, f. 48r
Details of bees and dog from Maastricht Book of Hours, BL Stowe MS.17, f. 48r

What can humans learn from bee society?

The medieval bee was said to be a very devoted subject and showed great respect to its king. This, however, did not stem from a weak and slavish character, but from pure reason. As the Aberdeen Bestiary states, bees ‘choose their own king, they appoint themselves his people; but although they are subject to the king, they are nevertheless free’. Their king is elected by the bees themselves, they make a conscious choice and don’t leave it to chance by drawing lots as sometimes through this method ‘the least suitable candidate is chosen over better ones.’ This was a specific critique of electing candidates by lot, which was not uncommon in the Middle Ages (you can find out more on medieval elections here).

So, what sort of king do the wise bees elect? One of formidable physical characteristics, of course, but more importantly, a merciful nature, which is essential for a king. This is exemplified in the text by the king’s judicious use of his sting: ‘for there are laws of nature, unwritten but embedded in custom, that those who are endowed with the greatest power should be the more lenient in administering punishment’.

So far, we’ve had a society that subjects itself willingly and freely, and out of rational thinking, to the best ruler, one who is strong and merciful. The resulting devotion between bees and their king is then very great indeed. They ‘defend their king, giving him the utmost amount of protection, and think it a noble act to die for him’. But not everything is always perfect in the hive (or is it?), because we are told that ‘bees who do not comply with the laws of the king, repent and punish themselves and die by their own sting’. Even in their attempt at lawlessness, bees always return to a state of harmony and good behaviour as expected from subjects in a well-formed monarchy.

If this reads as royalist propaganda, it’s because largely it is exactly that. The manuscript, lest we forget, was connected to the royal household. But it is not just that. It is a lesson in political philosophy which is grounded in contemporary understandings of how the cosmos worked. Until a few decades ago, leading scholars working on the history of ideas used to look down on moralistic texts as less important or valuable than serious treatises on philosophy, but this opinion is now largely changed. Most historians are happy to prioritise not only high-level philosophy but also the myriad ways in which knowledge manifested in more day-to-day forms like, for example, a bestiary.

Sources

Aberdeen University Library, MS 24, ff. 63r-64v. (https://www.abdn.ac.uk/bestiary/ms24/f63r)

The translation used in this post was taken from the Aberdeen Bestiary website with slight changes.