Melissa

vii: Botanica Fabula

Melissa

Amanda Edmiston

As I cradle my morning infusion of Sage and Rosemary into the garden, the thujones starting to compel my brain cells to activity, a solitary bumble bee crawls out of the grass. I watch as the bee— unsettled by the combination of ice-cold air and glittering, March morning light —appears to hesitate, then makes her trundling flight towards the herb bed…to be faced with not even a memory of pollen; just the initial rosettes of heartstopping foxgloves, bare stalks, and ragged remnants of frost-halted Thyme.

But then, the bee spots something I have not: her namesake, the first verdant glimpse of Spring growth. Melissa (Melissa officinalis) has started to venture out. Maybe the herb is mindful of the value of time, assured of her ability to fragrantly and gently dominate the herb bed if she musters forth. Balm acting as an anchor for the honeybees, as Pliny promised she would*.

The bee settles herself, then walks around the architecture of the plant— re-familiarising herself with its scent and pathways —then takes off once more. Sensory mind-map complete, she takes a line past the stalks of Artemisia, celebrating the connection of the Greek goddess Artemis to her handmaidens the Melissae, then travels on to the first burgeoning buds of the Magnolia, where she settles in, to gather her strength. I make my way back inside, fingers frozen, but brain now alert. Soothed to sleep last night by the love potion Lemon caress of Balm, just now reformed by the first assurance of Spring and the head-clearing herbs that complement it so well. Like the nymph Melissa feeding her prized honey to the infant Zeus to gift him strength and resilience, I smother warm bread with honey and attempt to rouse my children...

I consider the dreamlike, soothing qualities of Balm. John Evelyn wrote: Balm is sovereign for the brain, strengthening for the memory and powerfully chasing away melancholy. Later, in 1737, Elizabeth Blackwell— the first woman to publish a herbal — notes that the herb is good for disorders of the head and nerves, cheers the heart...prevents fainting, melancholy, hypochondria and hysteria... I imagine her sipping the same infusions I do, as she carefully observes and draws in detail the leaves of the plants she studies, notes that Rosemary and Sage add to Balm’s moodenhancing properties, shield the memory from the ravages of old age, and help increase positivity and motivation. I imagine her turning to the plants she loves, plants that help her brain cope with stress, support her groundbreaking ideas, inspire her to create her herbal so she can provide for herself and her child, in a time when middle class women rarely work, and her husband has been consigned to a debtor's jail.

Other stories, handed on across Europe over the years, also allude to the recuperative attributes of Lemon Balm. Just last year, one woman in Worcester told me a local story of a traveller who sought refreshment at a cottage door. He was met with goodwill by the householder, who confided he was glad to see a friendly face as he was lonely and depressed; his brain a grey fog, and with not enough cheer to seek out the company he needed. The traveller, spotting the Melissa taking over the beds in the man's garden and nodding in the direction of the house, advised the householder to add a few leaves to his ale, every day for a month. He then went on his way, back down the road. Within a week, the householder’s mood had lifted, and he shared his new knowledge of the plant with everyone he met. It was a lovely story to hear, and quite apt story for lockdown. It reminded me, as February ended and the gloom failed to lift as

March blew in, that although Lemon Balm's leaves can bring calm and sleep, they are also reviving—although it has to be said, water works just as well as ale to immerse them in!

It seems history’s notes have followed a figure of eight— a bee's dance, if you will —circling back on themselves, leading us to the plants that we need. Plants that will bring soothing sleep, clear heads, alleviate the ills and stresses attendant on our modern life. Recent studies, led by the wonderful folk at Dilston Physic Garden and Newcastle University, have begun to create a buzz about the potential for that trilogy of mind-strengthening herbs— Lemon Balm, Sage and Rosemary —to hold back the tide of Alzheimer's threatening to wash away so many memories, for so many people.

So, as the month that came in with a few days of lamb-like promise now recedes like a prowling lion, and as storms prevent the sun coming through, hold on to the bee's dream. Be assured that the gloom will lift, hold to your memories, and soothe your troubled mind with a sip of Lemon Balm tea.

* Pliny the Elder suggested bees were 'delighted with this herb above others’ and asserted that if Melissa were rubbed on a hive, it would prevent bees from straying (see Bianchini and Corbetta, 1977).

References Bianchini, F. and Corbetta, F. (1977) Health Plants of the World: Atlas of Medicinal Plants. Trans. M.A. Dejey, Newsweek Books: New York

Amanda's online project and excerpts from her forthcoming book ‘The Very Curious Herbal', inspired by Elizabeth Blackwell and the plants she studied, can be found at: https://botanicafabula.co.uk/the-very-curiousherbal

Links to the original study at Dilston Physic Garden can be found at: https://dilstonphysicgarden.com/sagerosemary-melissa-to-boost-memory/

Image: ‘Balm’, from Blackwell, E. (1751) A Curious Herbal Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library Digital Collections.