Medical Astrology & Herbalist

The Celestial Nurse

When we think about the Black Death, we usually imagine medieval Europe in the grip of a terrifying and mysterious disease. Between the mid-14th and early 15th centuries, plague swept through communities with devastating consequences. People did not know about bacteria, antibiotics, fleas, or the role of rodents in transmission. They had an entirely different understanding of illness.

And yet, tucked away in the records of the UK National Archives is something fascinating: an actual medieval herbal recipe intended to combat the pestilence.

Among its ingredients is marigold.

The recipe is found in a document identified as E 163/22/2/60, dating to the early 15th century. The National Archives describes it as a remedy against plague and notes ingredients including marigold, sorrel, burnet, and other herbs and flowers.

For anyone interested in herbal traditions, historical medicine, or the relationship between plants and human wellbeing, this little manuscript offers a remarkable glimpse into the medieval herbal imagination.

But it also raises an important question:

Could any of these herbs actually have helped?

The answer is complicated.

A recipe from the age of plague

The medieval recipe is titled, in Middle English, “A medecyn Ayenst the Pestelence”—a medicine against the pestilence.

Its ingredients include:

• A handful of rue
• A handful of marigolds
• A handful of burnet
• A handful of sorrel
• Half a handful of feverfew
• A quantity of dragonwort, using either the tops or roots
• Running water
• Sugar candy, if necessary to make the medicine less bitter

The instructions were straightforward by medieval standards.

The herbs were to be washed in running water and then gently boiled in water. The liquid was strained and consumed.

Most strikingly, the recipe says that the medicine should be taken before the “purpills” appeared—a reference to the characteristic purple discoloration and other visible symptoms associated with severe plague.

If the preparation was too bitter, the recipe recommended adding a little candied sugar.

The recipe is not from the exact years 1346–1352. Instead, it comes from the early 15th century, during the continuing second plague pandemic, which began in Europe with the Black Death in the 14th century.

That distinction matters, but it doesn’t make the document any less fascinating. It represents medical thinking that developed during the generations when plague repeatedly returned to European communities.

Before antibiotics, plants were the pharmacy

It is easy for us to look backward and assume medieval medicine was simply superstition.

The reality was more complicated.

Medieval physicians inherited knowledge from Greek, Roman, Arabic, Jewish, and European medical traditions. Herbal medicine was an important part of that world. Physicians, monks, apothecaries, midwives, and household healers all worked with plants.

They didn’t understand disease in terms of bacteria and viruses.

Instead, illness was often interpreted through the humoral system.

The body was believed to contain four humors: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. Health depended upon maintaining an appropriate balance among them.

Plants were also assigned qualities such as hot, cold, dry, and moist.

From a modern perspective, this system was incorrect as an explanation of infectious disease. But within medieval medicine, it provided a framework for deciding which plants might be appropriate for a particular illness.

A fever might call for a “cooling” plant.

A condition associated with excess moisture might call for something considered “drying.”

A suspected poison might be countered with a plant believed to have cleansing or protective properties.

The plague recipe makes much more sense when viewed through this lens.

Why marigold?

Of all the plants in this particular recipe, marigold is especially interesting.

The medieval “marigold” was generally associated with pot marigold, Calendula officinalis, rather than the ornamental garden marigolds of the genus Tagetes that many people picture today.

Calendula has a long history in traditional herbal medicine.

It was associated with wounds, skin problems, inflammation, and healing. Preparations made from the flowers have been used traditionally as washes, ointments, and other topical preparations.

Modern scientific research has found that calendula contains numerous biologically active compounds, including flavonoids and triterpenoids, and laboratory and clinical research has investigated its anti-inflammatory and wound-healing properties.

That does not mean calendula cured plague.

It is important not to make that leap.

Modern medicine understands that plague is caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis. Calendula has not been established as a treatment capable of eliminating plague infection.

But the historical use of calendula for wounds and inflammation is interesting because it shows that traditional herbal practices were sometimes based on observations that could have genuine biological foundations, even when the underlying explanation was incorrect.

Rue: powerful, but not harmless

Another ingredient was rue, traditionally identified as Ruta graveolens.

Rue had an enormous reputation in European herbalism.

It was considered protective, cleansing, and medicinal. It was used historically for a variety of ailments and was sometimes associated with protection against poisons and disease.

Today, however, rue deserves considerable caution.

The plant contains biologically active compounds and can be toxic, particularly in concentrated preparations. It can also cause serious skin reactions when the plant’s compounds interact with sunlight.

This is a good reminder that the phrase “natural remedy” does not automatically mean “safe remedy.”

Medieval herbalists were working from centuries of accumulated observation, but they did not have modern toxicology.

Burnet and sorrel

The recipe also includes burnet and sorrel.

Burnet, generally associated with Sanguisorba species, had a long history as a medicinal plant. It was traditionally valued for its astringent properties and was used for wounds and bleeding.

Sorrel, belonging to the Rumex group, was another traditional medicinal and culinary plant.

It was regarded historically as a cooling plant and was associated with fevers and other conditions.

Again, modern research has identified biologically active compounds in these plants, but there is no evidence that either one could cure plague.

Their presence in the medieval formula tells us more about how medieval herbalists conceptualized illness than it does about an effective treatment for Yersinia pestis.

Feverfew: a plant with an interesting modern history

Then there is feverfew.

The name itself tells us something about its traditional reputation.

Feverfew, Tanacetum parthenium, became associated with fever and other complaints. Today it has been studied most notably for migraine prevention, although evidence regarding its effectiveness is mixed and it is not appropriate for everyone.

Its inclusion in a medieval plague remedy makes sense within the historical context.

A disease associated with fever? A plant traditionally connected with fever?

To a medieval herbal practitioner, this would have been a logical connection.

Dragonwort: a mystery from the manuscript

The final major plant is dragonwort, but this is where interpretation becomes more uncertain.

Medieval plant names were not standardized in the way botanical names are today.

A single common name could refer to different plants in different regions or periods. Likewise, the same plant could have several names.

That means we should be careful about confidently translating every medieval plant name into one modern species.

Dragonwort was regarded as a medicinal plant, but identifying exactly which species the manuscript intended requires caution.

This is one of the challenges—and joys—of historical herbal research.

A medieval manuscript isn’t simply a recipe waiting to be copied into a modern kitchen.

It is a window into a different language, culture, medical system, and botanical tradition.

The mysterious “purple”

Perhaps the most haunting part of the recipe is the instruction to drink the preparation before the “purpills” appeared.

To modern readers, this sounds almost like a primitive attempt at early intervention.

The writer had observed that there was a stage of illness before the visible purple symptoms appeared, and the medicine was supposed to be taken during that earlier period.

They did not know about bacteria.

They did not know that plague could be transmitted by infected fleas.

They did not understand the role of Yersinia pestis.

But they were observers.

They watched patients.

They noticed symptoms.

They recorded what they believed helped.

And they passed those observations forward.

This is an important theme in the history of herbal medicine: observation often came before explanation.

People could discover that a plant seemed useful without understanding why.

Sometimes the observation held up under later scientific investigation.

Sometimes it did not.

And sometimes, as with plague, a remedy could seem reasonable while having little ability to address the actual cause of the disease.

What about astrology?

For a wellness and astrology audience, there is another fascinating layer.

Medieval medicine did not always separate medicine, astrology, herbalism, spirituality, and cosmology in the way modern disciplines are separated today.

The medieval cosmos was understood as interconnected.

The planets and zodiac were believed to influence earthly conditions, including the human body. Certain plants were traditionally associated with particular planets.

In later Western herbal and astrological traditions, for example, marigold has often been associated with the Sun because of its golden color, relationship to daylight, and appearance as a bright solar flower.

This is a symbolic and traditional correspondence—not a scientifically demonstrated planetary effect.

And that distinction can actually make astrology more interesting rather than less.

We can appreciate the symbolism without pretending it is laboratory science.

The golden marigold becomes a symbol of vitality, warmth, illumination, resilience, and the life-giving qualities traditionally attributed to the Sun.

For an herbal astrology practice, that symbolism can be explored as part of the cultural history of plant medicine.

What the medieval recipe teaches us today

Perhaps the most valuable lesson isn’t that we should recreate this medieval plague medicine.

We shouldn’t.

Plague is a serious bacterial infection. Modern treatment involves appropriate antibiotics and urgent medical attention. Anyone who suspects plague should seek professional medical care rather than attempting an historical herbal recipe.

Some of the plants in this old formula can also be unsafe in concentrated amounts.

Instead, the recipe gives us something else:

a piece of human history.

It shows how people confronted one of the most frightening diseases in history with the knowledge available to them.

They reached for plants.

They observed nature.

They experimented.

They preserved recipes.

They tried to understand the relationship between the body, the environment, plants, and the larger cosmos.

And one of those recipes survived in the archives for centuries.

Among its ingredients was a simple golden flower:

marigold.

Today, we can look at that flower through several different lenses.

Through history, it represents the long tradition of herbal medicine.

Through botany, it is Calendula officinalis.

Through modern research, it contains compounds that continue to interest scientists studying inflammation and wound healing.

Through traditional astrology, its golden color and relationship to the sun have made it a natural symbol of solar energy and vitality.

And through the medieval manuscript, it becomes something even more evocative—a reminder of people living through an epidemic they could not explain and reaching into the natural world for something that might help.

That is perhaps the most enduring story of herbal medicine.

Not that every old remedy was correct.

Not that every plant is a cure.

But that for thousands of years, human beings have looked at the plants growing around them and asked a profound question:

“Can this help us heal?”

The medieval plague recipe preserved in the National Archives is one small answer from another time.

And marigold is one of the flowers at the heart of that answer.

A note for modern readers

Historical herbal recipes are valuable sources for understanding traditional medicine, but they should not be treated as modern medical advice. In particular, do not prepare or ingest this medieval plague formula yourself. Some of its ingredients can be toxic or interact with medications, and it has no established ability to treat plague or other serious infections.

For modern herbal use, identification of the correct botanical species, dosage, preparation, contraindications, and potential drug interactions are essential.

Sources: UK National Archives, record E 163/22/2/60; historical transcription of the Middle English recipe; modern research and clinical literature concerning Calendula officinalis, feverfew, and traditional medicinal plants.

The Celestial Nurse ✨