Some fragrances tell a story, but myrrh? Myrrh whispers ancient secrets from tombs, rituals, and maybe even a curse or two. This isn’t your everyday autumn candle ingredient. No, myrrh comes with baggage—millennia of history soaked in death, divinity, and a touch of the macabre. So, light up that myrrh-scented candle...if you dare.
What is Myrrh?
Myrrh is a fragrant resin derived from the sap of trees native to regions like the Arabian Peninsula and parts of Africa.
To obtain myrrh, harvesters make incisions in the tree’s bark, allowing the sap to seep out and harden into reddish-brown gum-like droplets. These hardened droplets are then collected, processed, and used in various forms, including essential oils, incense, and powders.
Myrrh has a deep, earthy, and slightly bitter aroma. Its scent is often described as warm and resinous. There's a minor hint of sweetness, but it's far more subdued than other resins like frankincense. The scent can be quite calming, making it a popular choice in aromatherapy and incense for relaxation.
In perfumes, myrrh is typically used as a base note, providing a long-lasting foundation that complements sweeter or lighter top notes. Its distinct and ancient fragrance still carries the weight of its past, from sacred rituals to burial rites.
The Original Perfume for the Dead
Long before it graced luxury perfume bottles, myrrh was the fragrance of choice for the ancient Egyptian elite, synonymous with death and the afterlife. In ancient Egypt, preserving the body was a vital step for the deceased to reach the afterlife. Myrrh’s antibacterial and antifungal properties were a key element of this preservation process.
Egyptians believed that the decay of a corpse created a physical barrier between the soul and its afterlife. Myrrh, along with other fragrant resins like cedar and juniper, was mixed into complex embalming formulas to help embalmers stave off decomposition.
The use of myrrh was deeply ritualistic. The embalming process often took up to 70 days, during which bodies were treated with natron salts, desiccated, and then layered with oils and resins, including myrrh. This preserved the body for eternity, transforming it from a vulnerable corpse into a glorified mummy that could pass into the afterlife.
Ritual and Exploitation
Myrrh’s influence wasn’t confined to Egypt’s mummies. Across the ancient world, this resin was considered sacred, burned as incense in temples, used in religious rituals, and so on. Its deep, earthy scent was said to bridge the gap between the earthly and divine, guiding souls on their journey to the afterlife.
In Greece and Rome, myrrh was used in funerals, and it even appears in Christian scriptures as one of the gifts offered to the newborn baby Jesus by the Three Wise Men, symbolizing death and burial even in the context of new life.
The desire for this potent resin led to fierce competition and exploitation. Myrrh was so highly prized that entire economies—and even bloody wars—were centered around it. During the reign of Augustus, the first Roman emperor, military campaigns were launched in Arabia with the intent of controlling the lucrative trade routes that carried myrrh and other valuable spices and incense to the Roman Empire. Though Augustus’s campaigns were not entirely successful in conquering the Arabian Peninsula, they show the lengths to which empires would go to control this valuable commodity.
The trade in myrrh was brutal. Harvesting the resin involved repeatedly wounding the trees, causing damage to the environment. The demand for myrrh surged, particularly in the Arabian Peninsula and Somalia, which became epicenters of a thriving trade network. This resin, often referred to as “liquid gold,” was exchanged for enslaved people, gold, and other precious goods, its value far exceeding that of more common commodities.
The harsh labor of extracting myrrh from trees in scorching climates, combined with its association with death and burial, gave myrrh a haunting legacy. Entire regions were built on the backs of this trade, and for centuries, myrrh continued to be a staple in funeral rites, religious ceremonies, and even medicinal practices across the ancient world.
The Bitter Price of Fragrance
Beyond its spiritual and ritualistic uses, myrrh became intertwined with the economy of ancient civilizations, most notably through trade routes connecting Africa, the Middle East, and the Mediterranean. Merchants made fortunes, but they weren’t the only ones to profit. The extraction and distribution of myrrh were controlled by powerful rulers and empires who sought to monopolize the trade. The frankincense and myrrh route, sometimes called the Incense Road, stretched for hundreds of miles.
While this trade was profitable, it came at a cost. Myrrh trees were overharvested, and the environmental impact on the regions where they grew was profound. The practice of cutting deep gashes into the bark of myrrh trees, known as “tapping,” left them vulnerable to disease and, in some cases, led to their destruction. The more myrrh was harvested, the more the land was ravaged. Entire communities became dependent on the trade, with merchants, workers, and even slaves caught in the cycle of demand and exploitation.
Myrrh Today: A Somber Symbol of the Past
Today, myrrh is still valued, though its role has shifted primarily to perfumery, incense, and essential oils. It’s used in luxury candles and skincare products, and its rich, warm fragrance is often found to feel calming and grounding. But the history of myrrh remains steeped in mystery and darkness. Few who enjoy its scent today realize the long and tumultuous history that accompanies this seemingly simple resin.
When you smell myrrh, you're inhaling a deep connection to ancient rituals, power struggles, and the very notion of life and death. It’s a reminder that even the sweetest scents can come with a bitter, morbid history.
