A few years ago, I was fortunate to own a remarkable boxed set titled The Fragrant Past: Perfumes of Cleopatra & Julius Caesar, a collection that captured the essence of ancient times through the recreation of seven historical fragrances. This set, created exclusively for an exhibition at the Emory University Museum of Art & Archaeology in 1989, brought the olfactory history of the ancient world to life. Each scent was a window into the past, allowing one to experience the aromas that might have once filled the air during the reigns of Cleopatra and Julius Caesar. The perfumes themselves were prepared by Professor Giuseppe Donato, a distinguished figure in the world of applied fragrance technologies. As Director Emeritus of the Institute of Applied Technologies at the National Research Council of Italy, Donato meticulously reconstructed these ancient formulas, blending his extensive knowledge of historical ingredients and ancient techniques.
These perfumes were non-alcoholic, oil-based compositions, designed to mimic the original formulations used in antiquity. The oil base gave them a rich, smooth texture that absorbed into the skin, transforming them into intimate "skin scents." Unlike modern perfumes with their expansive sillage, these ancient fragrances remained close to the body, evoking a sense of personal ritual and quiet luxury. The scents would whisper rather than shout, enveloping the wearer in a subtle aura rather than projecting outward.
The experience of wearing these perfumes was akin to stepping back in time, into the courts of Cleopatra or the streets of ancient Rome. The rich historical context, combined with the understated nature of these skin scents, made them a deeply personal and evocative journey. Each fragrance spoke of ancient rituals, sacred ceremonies, and the daily life of a long-gone era, preserving a sensory connection to the past.
.png)
It was this set of fragrances that inspired me to research the most famous perfumes in Ancient Rome and Greece, but I wanted to concentrate more on Egypt. The first perfumes in Egypt were aromatics kindled as incense to the gods, but this was then extended to perfumes for the body as well. In ancient times, perfumes were in the form of unguents and oils.
Perfumes and fragrant gums were held by the Egyptians in high esteem, and played an important part in their lives. “The consumption of perfumed unguents and aromatics,” says Ebers, “must have been enormous at the highest tide of Egyptian splendor. The people were actually enjoined to perfume themselves on Fridays. The foods, sweetmeats, and sherbets were flavored with perfumes, and their fragrance filled the air in every well-to-do house. The women bathed in perfumed water and the men used the scented unguents for their bodies. During great festivals incense was burnt in the streets, so that even the poorest participated and enjoyed the perfumed air. At their banquets the guests waded through roses, and costly perfumes floated in the air. Chaplets and wreaths of flowers were laid upon the altars and offered to the deities, whose statues were frequently crowned with them. On the occasion of festivals, the guests on their arrival were met by slaves, who anointed their heads with perfumed unguents and hung chaplets of lotus about their necks. The apartment was festooned with flowers, and the table and floor were strewn with sweet-smelling flower blossoms."
An Introduction to Ancient Egyptian Unguents:
The word unguent is derived from the Latin unguentum, meaning "ointment." In ancient times, unguents were luxurious, richly perfumed oils that served both cosmetic and medicinal purposes, often used to anoint and soften the skin. These fragrant balms held great cultural significance and were highly valued in societies across the ancient world. Egypt, in particular, became renowned for its mastery in crafting exquisite unguents, where the finest ingredients—precious oils, fragrant resins, and exotic flowers—were blended into potent, aromatic concoctions. The demand for these perfumed unguents was so high that they commanded an exorbitant price, making them accessible only to the wealthy and powerful.
Cleopatra, the last Pharaoh of Egypt, was famously known for her indulgence in these luxurious oils. It is said that Cleopatra spent four hundred denarii each day—equivalent to an astonishing $17,400 in modern terms—on unguents used exclusively to perfume and soften her hands and arms. Her devotion to fragrance was not merely a testament to her love for beauty but a deliberate part of her seductive power. Cleopatra understood the allure of scent, using it as an invisible weapon to enchant and captivate those around her. Her use of perfumed unguents became legendary, playing a role in her seduction of both Julius Caesar and Mark Antony. For Cleopatra, perfume was more than just a cosmetic—it was an instrument of power, romance, and allure, intricately woven into her identity as a ruler and seductress.
Among the renowned ancient ointments, Psagdi and Egyptian oil of lily were highly prized, celebrated even beyond Egypt's borders for their fragrance and quality. These unguents, steeped in prestige and cultural significance, were more than just perfumes—they were symbols of luxury, status, and refinement. Another highly coveted preparation was the Qam’ey (or Qemi) ointment, a rare and valuable substance. Such was its worth that two silver bowls filled with Qam’ey were gifted by a reigning Pharaoh to a deputy governor of Mery towards the end of the 20th Dynasty. This gift underscored the ointment’s esteemed status as a treasure, worthy of royal presentation.
People of rank in ancient Egypt often sourced their oils and perfumes from foreign lands, particularly along the southern coasts of the Red Sea, which supplied the coveted Qam’ey. This ointment played a central role in the lavish rituals of the New Kingdom, especially in the oiling of the head—a practice depicted frequently in Egyptian art and texts. The method of application was far from what one might expect today. A ball, about the size of a fist, was immersed in a bowl of the aromatic oil. The exact nature of this ball's consistency remains a mystery, but it was designed to absorb the oil. During banquets or ceremonies, a chief anointer, always present in wealthy households, would place the ball on the head of his master. As the feast progressed, the ball would slowly release its aromatic oil, allowing it to trickle down, perfuming the hair and body. This gradual release of fragrance was considered both indulgent and ceremonious, a sensory experience that signified both wealth and sophistication.
This elaborate use of perfumed ointments, including the Qam’ey, exemplified the luxurious and deeply ritualistic nature of personal grooming in ancient Egypt. These traditions, tied to both daily life and ceremonial occasions, elevated the role of fragrance in society, making it an integral part of Egyptian identity and cultural expression. The head cones, mentioned in various texts, likely followed similar practices, contributing to the overall sensory and symbolic experience of these ancient feasts and gatherings.
Two ancient Egyptian toilette cases, each filled with unguent vessels or perfume jars, kohl pots and applicators, and in the one on the right, a bronze mirror which when polished to a very high shine, had a wonderful reflecting property. These were objects of luxury for the wealthier citizens, the poorer classes also indulged in daily toilettes, but their vessels and the unguents or oils were of a lower quality.
In ancient Egypt, liquid unguents were derived from oils, serving not only as luxurious body treatments but as an essential part of daily life. In a hot, arid climate, where the relentless sun dried out the skin, oils and unguents were necessary to moisturize, protect, and perfume the body. For both men and women, these fragrant oils helped maintain hydration and provided a pleasant scent, masking the natural body odors that were inevitable in the sweltering heat. The significance of oils extended beyond mere physical comfort—these substances were intertwined with the fabric of Egyptian culture and ritual.
Oil held symbolic meaning, often associated with joy and celebration. On festival days, when the king’s procession passed, it was customary for people to pour “sweet oil” on their heads, anointing their freshly styled coiffures. This public ritual of oiling the body was a shared expression of happiness, marking significant occasions and honoring the presence of the king. The use of fragrant oils during festivals and ceremonies symbolized the connection between physical well-being and spiritual or communal joy, as the rich, aromatic oils not only protected the skin but also enhanced the sensory experience of the event.
Oils were also a practical necessity, crucial for survival against the harsh environmental conditions of the Nile Valley. The intense sun, dry winds, and high temperatures made body oil indispensable for protecting the skin from cracking and dehydration. While the oils served a functional purpose, when perfumed, they transformed into items of luxury and refinement, symbolizing both status and beauty. So vital were these oils that they became a common form of compensation for laborers. Workers were often paid in food and oil, reflecting the essential nature of these items in everyday Egyptian life. The supply of oil was as valuable as nourishment, and complaints from unpaid laborers often mentioned a lack of both food and oil, highlighting the central role these resources played in their daily existence.
For the Egyptian elite and soldiers, imported oils were highly prized, distinguishing them from the native fats that common laborers had to settle for. These imported oils, brought in from distant harbors, were symbols of wealth and status, coveted for their superior quality and often reserved for those in positions of power. The demand for oil from foreign lands exemplifies its importance not just as a basic necessity but as a luxury commodity that carried significant social and economic value in ancient Egyptian society. Whether as a protective balm, a fragrant adornment, or a symbol of joy, oils and unguents were deeply woven into the daily life and cultural practices of the Egyptians, reflecting their reverence for both beauty and survival in their environment.
Most of their unguents used a base of either rendered animal fats, or vegetable oils such as moringa (a type of tree native to Africa and Asia), sesame, olive oil or benben oil. The unguent was made up of heated fat and fragranced essences, solidified after cooling, and was shaped into balls or cones.
Oils and unguents also formed the base of much of the ancient Egyptian's idea of medicine, along with magic, amulets, invocations, etc. The Egyptian drugs included wine, beer, yeast, honey, turpentine, myrrh, opium, wormwood, aloes, vinegar, cumin, fennel, anise, peppermint, cassia, caraway, coriander, linseed, juniper berries, henbane and mandrake. Any number of these could be macerated in oils and taken internally or rubbed over the afflicted area. Many herbs were used as medicines under symbolic names; for instance, the ivy was called the "plant of Osiris," verbena was called "tears of Isis," saffron was called the "blood of Thoth," and squill was known as the "eye of Typhon."
Other favorite perfumes were Mendesium, which was composed of oil of ben, myrrh, and canella; Metopium, which was perfumed with almonds, and contained honey, wine, resin, myrrh, and calamus; Aegyptium, which was strongly impregnated with cinnamon and used chiefly for the hands and feet; and Cyprinum, of a green tint, which was extracted from henna flowers.
Sacred Mummification Oils:
Various oils and unguents were also used during the practice of mummification. Already in 3500 BCE, at Abydos in Upper Egypt, jars of scented oils and unguents appear in a predynastic tomb. In funerary work, a ceremonial assortment known as the "Seven Sacred Oils" was applied to the mummy during the process of embalming. The exact compositions are not known, but it is certain that they generally made use of myrrh, aloes and other strong and astringent herbs and spices to prevent putrefaction and help to cover up the smell of decay. “Some of the perfume vases were made of turquoise that were used in the mysteries of Osiris at Dendera, and vases of fragrant oils and perfumes were buried with the mummy for his use in the other world. Previous to burial, the body was anointed, perfumed, and crowned with flowers. The ceremony was concluded with a prayer, in which the ‘perfume of Horus" was desired to place itself on the dead man, so that he might receive virtue from the god.”
In 2023, a team of scientists successfully recreated an ancient oil formula that was used for mummification. An analysis was conducted of balm residues scraped from the interiors of 18th dynasty canopic jars belonging to a noblewoman named Senetnay. These funerary jars, about 3,500 years old, once held the ancient woman's mummified organs and were excavated from KV42, a tomb cache, in the 1920s by the archaeologist Howard Carter. You may recognize his name from his more infamous find, King Tutankhamen's fabulous tomb full of riches.
Senetnay was a woman of high status at the time due to her close relationship with the royal family, she was the wife of the mayor of Thebes, Sennefer, who just happened to be a cousin of the Pharaoh. She participated as the wet nurse of Amenhotep II, the son and heir of Pharaoh Thutmose III. Since the royal family did not nurse their own babies, the wet nurse was hired to perform this vital function. The wet nurse of a pharaoh's child might be the wife of a general or some other high official, and she was treated with great honor. The wet nurse's primary job was to breastfeed the future pharaoh while he was an infant and was usually kept on to act in similar capacity to a nanny. Subsequently, the royal child wound up becoming very attached to the nurse/nanny and continued to provide well for her into old age. The ancient Egyptian title for this woman would have been "Great Royal Nurse", or "Chief Nurse of the Two Lands", Senetnay's titles were "the one who nurtured body of god (the pharaoh)" and "Ornament of the King”.
She must have been a beloved figure throughout her life as she was rewarded in death with a complex and expensive mummification ritual which included the ever present canopic jars. These four jars of carved limestone were topped with human headed lids and contained her internal organs, which were carefully embalmed and wrapped in linen just as her body was. One of the jars once held her lungs, which was represented by inscriptions on the jars referring to the goddess Nephthys, sister of Isis and Osiris, while another jar once held her liver. Unfortunately, the organs have been lost to eternity and the jars stand empty of their original precious contents. However, residues of the balms are partially preserved and appear as thin coatings on the interior walls, bases and even penetrated into the porous limestone.
The analysis revealed the ancient secrets which had been lost for thousands of years. Modern archaeologists and scholars generally had to rely on ancient texts which gave scanty information. The analyzed results showed that the costly balms were primarily composed of beeswax, various plant oils and gums, fats, bitumen, resins of the Pinaceae family (pine, larch or cedar), a balsamic substance, and Pistacia tree resin known as dammar. At the time of Senetnay's death, these would have been expensive to procure as well as utilize for the mummification process, reflecting her elite burial status and place of privilege in the Valley of the Kings. The scientists said that their analysis showed that "These are the richest, most complex balms yet identified for this early time period. They highlight both the exceptional status of Senetnay and the myriad trade connections of the Egyptians in the second millennium BCE."
An interesting take is that the jar that held the lungs contained a different composition that the jar that held the liver. It is supposed that each organ was assigned its own mummification oil formula. Organ specific formulas have some support due to the discoveries found in an ancient mummification workshop at Saqqara, dating to around 31 BCE. In the workshop were found vessels in which the special mummification oils were being prepared for later application to the liver and stomach. The chemical analysis of Senetnay's canopic jars seem to bolster up the findings.
These analyses were also also important in confirming that the ancient Egyptian trading routes were well established as some of the ingredients were not native to Egypt. The pine, at the time, was not grown in Egypt, and it is purported to have been exported from the Alps, Pyrenees, Central Europe or western Mediterranean mountainous regions. Pine and other coniferous species including cedar and larch could also have been exported from Lebanon, Cilicia and Syria. Pistacia was generally found in the Mediterranean coastal region from Spain to the Levant. Dammar resin was found in trees that grow exclusively in southeast Asian tropical forests. It is interesting to note that in addition to being found in Senetnay's canopic jar, dammar resin was also found in the Saqqara workshop.
Senetney's mummification oil was recreated by the team of scientists and will be part of a special exhibit on display at Denmark's Moesgaard Museum during autumn 2023. The scientists dubbed the aromatic substance as "the scent of eternity."
Archaeologist Howard Carter, stated that the mummy of Tutankhamen was eventually destroyed by the "consecration unguents that had been poured over his gold coffin and his body. The unguents were of the nature of fatty matter, resin and possibly wood-pitch, originally in a liquid or semi-liquid condition. In the course of time, the decomposition of these unguents acted destructively upon the contents. The consolidated residue of the unguents also formed a hard black pitch-like mass, which firmly stuck both the mummy and its mask to the bottom of the coffin; and no amount of legitimate force could move them." He goes on to say that "In all probability these once liquid unguents were merely of pious significance, and had been applied for a sacred purpose either before or during the burial rites, to consecrate or purify the dead king, or to help him towards initiation on his journey through the mysteries of the shadowy Underworld."
Ancient Egyptian Love Oils:
Unguents were often associated with eroticism and perhaps considered aphrodisiacs. In addition to being employed as massage oils, they may have also been used for lubrication or contraceptive agents during lovemaking. The ancient Egyptians used aromatic ointments to enhance their sex appeal. The pleasant fragrance of certain ointments attracted the attention of the opposite sex. There are numerous references to "daubing" or "smearing" oil or ointment on the skin and hair. In many cases, the oil was lavishly applied.
In the so-called erotic papyrus of Turin, the adventures of an inexperienced man in a brothel are described in such great detail that the work has remained unpublished because scholars in the past regarded it as obscene. Today there are numerous images of the papyrus' surviving fragments published online and we can have somewhat of an understanding about the ancient Egyptian sexuality. In the scene below, a prostitute applies lipstick while holding an brush like applicator in her hand and a kohl or lipstick tube and mirror in the other. She appears to be sitting on something unusual. To date, it seems that no one has been able to figure out exactly what it is or what the image is actually portraying. Some have posited it was some sort of conical topped stool, but after seeing many objects portrayed in tomb paintings and papyrus illustrations, I have come to the realization that the woman is not sitting on the item in question and it is definitely not an item of furniture. The woman is either sitting down or laying back with her knees up and legs spread. The pointed object actually represents a conical lump of perfumed unguent heaped onto a footed bowl which was a customary receptacle for ointment. This bowl is being held in front her her. The man next to her, who represents her newest customer is rubbing the unguent on her buttocks, nether regions and inner thighs with one hand and the other is holding the bowl. She is making herself presentable by touching up her makeup for this newest client. I believe that a rather large jar of unguent would have been present in the brothel as it would have been used quite often.
The oil might be a form of primitive contraception. In the fourth century BCE, Aristotle noted that women of his time who did not wish to conceive would "anoint that part of the womb on which the seed falls with oil of cedar, ointment of lead or frankincense commingled with olive oil." The inclusion of lead was poisonous, but the ancients were unaware of this, but the application of oil and its resulting stickiness would help to prevent the motility of sperm.
Soranus of Ephesus, in the first century CE, mentioned the use of vaginal plugs saturated with a variety of substances. "Conception is prevented by smearing the orifice of the uterus all over with old olive oil, honey, cedar resin or the juice of the balsam tree, alone or together with white lead; or with an ointment containing myrtle oil and white lead; or before the act with moist alum [a mineral salt], or with gum resin together with wine."
The application of unguent to the thighs was an Egyptian practice. Athenaeus gave us information that the Sybarites of Athens anointed each pat of their body with a different ointment, Egyptian, a bitter almond scented unguent used for feet and thighs, Phoenician, a balsam scented unguent for cheeks and breasts, Sisymbrion, a water mint scented unguent for the arms, Amaracon, a marjoram scented unguent for hair and eyebrows and Serpyllos, a thyme scented unguent for the chin and neck. Cleopatra VII Thea Philopator was said to have used a mixture of rose and violet on her hands, and a blend of hyacinth, cinnamon and orange oils for her feet.
Another image is a man and woman in a chariot. As he is entering her from behind, he is grabbing her hair with one hand and is holding a long necked oil jar in the other hand. He is not forcefully pulling her hair to cause pain, rather, I believe he is applying the oil to her hair. The wig had erotic associations – one young man is recorded as saying to his lover, "Put on your wig and let's go to bed!"
A faience bowl united most of the erotic symbols in its decoration: a beautiful lute player squatting on a cushion while a monkey playfully toys with her hip girdle. She has an image of Bes, a symbol of her profession as well as sexuality and drunkenness, tattooed on her thigh and wears an unguent cone and a lotus flower on her heavy wig. More flowers dangle from her elbows. The lute is decorated with a duck's head. This bowl may have been used for food or holding unguents.
The cosmetic jars they used are decorated with erotic symbols as, for example, an unguent spoon shaped like the hieroglyph for life, the handle of which is adorned with a girl playing the lute while sailing along in a papyrus thicket. Both the lute and the boat are decorated with duck's heads. Another unguent spoon was shaped like a swimming girl holding a duck, the hollow body of which contained the unguent. The unguent spoons below show various swimming girl motifs.
On the back of Tutankhamen's golden throne is an intimate image of his wife Ankhesenamun, tenderly anointing her seated husband from a chalice in her hand. This is quite unique, but intimate family scenes were typical of the Amarna period. To date, I have not found this type of image on any other Pharaoh's funerary objects.
As unguents were massaged into the skin, the scented grease ended up transferred onto clothing. A lovesick man decries in a papyrus saying, "I wish I were her laundryman, just for a single month. Then I would flourish by donning [her garment] and be close to her body..I would wash away the unguent from her clothes and wipe my body with her dress...I wish I were the water that washes your body. I wish I were the unguent, O woman, that I could anoint you."
A large ostracon (a limestone flake, usually used as notepads) records a love poem: "O my god, my lotus flower!..It is lovely to go out and...I love to go and bathe before you. I allow you to see my beauty in a dress of the finest linen, drenched with fragrant unguent. I go down into the water to be with you and come up to you again with a red fish, looking splendid on my fingers. I place it before you...Come! Look at me!"
Another heartsick man brags about his lover: "If I embrace her and her arms are opened, it is for me as if I were one that is from the incense land Punt, who is immersed in the scent of qemi unguent. If I kiss her and her lips are open, I am happy (even) without beer, I say to thee: Put the finest linen between her limbs, make not her bed with royal linen and beware of white linen. Adorn (her bed with...) and sprinkle it with tishepes-oil.""
In ancient Egypt, women used cinnamon oil imported from Nepal, combined with honey, myrrh and almonds to make a perfume for the feet and legs.
Bast (also known as Bastet), was the Egyptian goddess of sexuality and fertility, known as “She of the Ointment jar” and symbolized by the famous “alabaster jar."
Unguent Containers:
Oils and unguents were so valuable they were usually transported and stored in small and often distinctive containers. Most of those used for unguents are of a short, squatty shape while others were vase shaped with with open mouths. The containers used for oils were cylindrical vases or bottles with tall narrow necks. The unguent was scooped using elaborate spoons or spatulas by the wealthy, while the poorer classes typically used their fingers. The myriads of unguent containers that have been found in the tombs show that they believed that the dead were as much in need of unguents as the living.
Oils were also presented as offerings to the deities and statues were anointed with aromatic scents. Perfumed oils and unguents were offered to the gods in large quantities and a thousand boxes of ointment are mentioned in one instance alone.
The most precious unguents often formed part of a large donation and were always included in the complete set of offerings to the shrines of the gods. They were kept in beautiful containers of alabaster or vases of onyx or diorite, fitted with stoppers or lids to preserve the contents from deteriorating. According to recent accounts, in some of the magnificent and exquisitely carved alabaster unguent containers discovered in the tomb of Tutankhamen, which is said to date about 1350 BCE, the fragrance of the perfume still lingered after a period of over three thousand years.
Pliny suggests that "Unguents keep best in alabaster boxes, scents when mixed with oil...Sunshine is detrimental to them; and the unguents improve with age. Therefore they are stored in the shade, in vessels made of lead. When being tested they are put on the back of the hand, to avoid their being damaged by the warmth of the fleshy part."
As we understand from the passage, alabaster was the preferred material for storage, followed closely by cold lead or stone.
Ancient Egyptian perfume bottles. Left: A faience vessel in the shape of a monkey. This dates to the New Kingdom, circa 1550–1295 BCE | Right: A travertine perfume vessel with the figure of a princess inlaid. The vessel dates to the New Kingdom, Amarna Period, circa 1353–1336 BCE (Photos: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Public domain)
The Unguent Jars of Tutankhamen:
The three elaborate alabaster containers below were found in Tutankhamen's tomb in the Valley of the Kings. Tutankhamen was buried with thirty four alabaster (calcite) vessels and one of serpentine.
Ten alabaster jars (not including the three ornate and four highly elaborate jars above) of similar kind were found lying on the floor of the Antechamber, emptied and abandoned. With rare exception, the lids and stoppers of all these vessels had been forcibly removed, thrown aside and their contents poured put and stolen, leaving only a trace of residue in each vessel. Fingerprints of the robber's hands that scooped out the unguent are found on the inner walls of some of the vessels that contained viscous substance. Many of the containers were older than the burial of the kind. Some of them have their original inscriptions carefully erased; others actually bear ancestral names that go as far back as Thutmosis III, and some of them show traces of long use, old breakages, and repairs; in fact, they appear to have contained family oils from famous presses, fats and unguents of matured kind, dating back as far as some eight-five years before the birth of Tutankhamen.
In the photo above, Ankhesenamun applies perfumed unguent to Tut's shoulder. The scene is on the back of Tut's golden throne.
Head Cones:
The unguent cone is also linked to a verbal sexual pun in which the word for odor (seti) was written with the same letters as the word “to shoot" or "ejaculate." The play on words in the depiction of servant girls pouring drinks for the guests may have reminded the artists of a sexual act, as both "pouring" and "ejaculating" were expressed by a similar sounding word, "seti." This word also meant "to shoot" and scenes of hunting in the marshes found on tomb walls may also have an underlying erotic significance.
In addition to the floral headbands, the guests were always seen wearing broad floral collars. These were made up of flower petals, leaves and seeds sewn against papyrus or linen backings in a wreath shape. they were affixed with strings tied behind the neck.
Myronides, tells us that at banquets, the guests used to anoint their heads so that the wine should not affect them; for when the "head is dry, the fumes ascend." The use of the floral wreaths or collars were also thought to insure the wearer against intoxication by keeping the head cool, and to prevent headaches. In earlier centuries, ivy wreaths were used for this purpose, but later ones were made of sweet smelling flowers such as roses, lilies, wallflowers or stocks, and also frequently sprinkled with perfumed unguents by attendants.
This next register shows another servant girl holding a fillet and a shallow bowl heaped with unguent. It is in this moment that I believe the servant girl goes around to each guest and replenishing lumps of unguent atop each person's head as the previous unguent has started melting away. The servant boy is holding onto the male guest's forearm from whose hand holds the stem of a fragrant lotus. I suppose he is ready to adorn the guest's head with the fillet the servant girl is handing to him.
In the scene below, unfortunately damaged, it shows two women, most likely not serving girls as they are dressed in finery usually reserved for wealthy citizens, one woman is holding up a fillet, presumably to place on someone else's head. I am unsure what the other lady is holding, it appears to be a shallow bowl, perhaps unguent is inside.
The scene below shows a servant girl, holding a dish containing a unguent, applies a lump of unguent to the head of a female guest.
The shape of the cones varies over the 18th and 19th Dynasties, which constitutes an aid for dating the works. From the 20th Dynasty onwards, the depiction of the cones becomes schematic. Notice that some cones have wavy outlines or have dripped down ending in dots - this is the cone actively melting in the heat. I love how the ancient artists captured something from real life and enshrined it forever. The owners of the tombs would be happy to know that their festal cones would continue to melt onto them for eternity.
The tomb painting below shows a large offering table heaped with fruits, bread, vegetables and meats. Above the offering table is a separate table holding four jars of oil, topped by lotus blossoms and buds. Looks like the man is pouring oil over the lettuce atop the offering table.
In the tomb paintings below, the women are wearing lotus blossom fillets around their wigs and the perfume cone is also wrapped with its own miniature fillet. Exactly how the cones were supported or attached on the head is unknown. Some images show a lotus with its stem penetrating through the base of the cone and exiting out over the back of the head. The lotus blossom or bud, droopingly rests overtop the forehead, in some images, two lotuses are found. In the painting below, two women have the lotus fillet around the outside of their wig, while the two on the right have the lotus fillet under their wig. The women on the right might only have part of their elaborate wig such as the bangs hanging over the fillet. The forward facing image of the women is extremely rare in Ancient Egyptian art, as people were always portrayed in the profile. Wearing scented unguent cones on their heads, the women, as the text above describes, are singing joyfully about the abundant festivity around them: "meat, fowl, fish, all kinds of sweet herbs, ointment of moringa oil, unguent of myrrh!" At least we know what they are eating and wearing!
In a few depictions, where several seated men and women are being attended by servant girls, it can be seen that one or two of the women wear no headband. Lotus fillets and lotus blossoms dangle from the hands of the girls, and it may be supposed that the girls are in the process of distributing the flowers and arranging the fillets on the guest's heads. Other servant girls can be seen bearing unused cones in their hands as they attend to the women.
The image below portrays a servant girl holding a shallow bowl heaped with fillets and handing the next one to the servant boy who is already holding one open. The servants may be replenishing the now wilted and barely scented fillets with new fragrant ones made with fresh blossoms.
This next register shows a servant girl holding out a fillet to another servant girl who is either arranging the hair of a guest or fixing a funerary collar around her next. Notice how low their perfume cones have melted by now. I think it is very clever that the artist who painted this scene has opted to show how the female guest's hands have gotten her dress covering her knees stained with either unguent or food by resting her hand there.
The first known depiction of the perfume cones that has been found dates from the reign of Queen Hatshepsut, but these were worn only in banqueting or funerary scenes. From then on, they are often seen worn during worship or funerary scenes. From the Third Intermediate Period, their depiction is limited only to scene of worship. Whether this is an accurate portrayal of their restricted holy usage, or whether it wasn't portrayed in the images but still performed in daily life is unknown.
In the banquet scene below, a female guest is offering another guest a yellow mandrake fruit, which the ancient Egyptians associated with love and sexuality. The fruit has a pleasing smell when ripe, while the mandrake plant itself has hallucinogenic and aphrodisiac effects, but it is toxic. Several lotus flowers are also depicted. Each fillet features a lotus bud penetrating a head cone, and two guests hold a lotus flower; one is open and another is closed. The lotus flower, which also has a pleasing scent, and the Nymphaea species of lotus has narcotic properties and may have been used no only for its fragrance, but also to achieve an altered state during festivities. In other paintings, there are depictions of of people dipping their lotus blossoms into their wine chalices.
Another tomb image shows the mandrake fruit being offered, this time it is placed directly in front of the nose. The women wear lotus flower fillets and head cones. The head cone to the right appears to have melted considerably more than the ones to the left. The white of the cones depict the solidified unguent, while the orange color at the top, streaking downwards depicts the unguent in the act of melting. We can infer from the image that the cone on the right is nearly melted completely, as its high dome has decreased and very little of the solidified white unguent is present.
In the register below from Nakht's tomb, we can see a series of male guests holding a lotus flower. To the right of the guests, there is a few bowls and jars on stands. The bowl on the left looks to be folded fillets topped by lotus buds complete with stems. The jar to the right of it appears to be a large lump of unguent topped by a single lotus blossom. The bowl to the right of it is filled with unguent and is topped by several lotus blossoms. The jar on the right is most likely wine, but could also be oil.
Again we see a series of unguents at a funerary banquet. The bowl and two jars are set into stands. The bowl on the left is a huge lump of unguent, the jar in the center is also a lump of unguent and the jar to the right also appears to be unguent. All containers are topped by bouquets of lotus blossoms.
The head cones were depicted on the heads of men and women from the 18th Dynasty onwards. They are seen initially in tomb scenes, for example, the 18th Dynasty tomb of Amenemhat at Deir el-Medina. The frequency of depictions of the cone increases throughout the New Kingdom and the mediums they are represented on extends to include coffins, mortuary papyri and three dimensional female figurines. The cone continues to be depicted until the Ptolemaic period; a cone is illustrated on the head of Petosiris and his wife who lived under Persian rule. The nature and significance of the head cone representation has been debated over the years, as they were not found as archaeological evidence until 2019. Two head cones, made of wax, were discovered on the skulls of two individuals buried about 3,300 years ago excavated at the ancient cemetery of Amarna. In both cases, the cones appear cream colored; spectroscopic analysis indicated that the cones were likely made of beeswax. These may have been "dummy" cones, made up of solidified beeswax rather than unguent to survive the trip into the Netherworld.
Previous excavations revealed cones of fat on the skulls of most internments in Amarna's South Tombs Cemetery. This evidence took the form of either loose fragments of cones or the discoloration of hair or bones suggesting the melting of the cones. Scholars still debate whether the cones were used in real life or were just funerary equipment. I happen to believe they were actually used in real life. The ancient Egyptians knew the benefits of unguents and the exquisite pleasure of scent.
In the 1925 book The Mummy: A Handbook of Egyptian Funerary Archaeology by Sir Ernest Alfred Wallis Budge, the author says that "many tribes in the Eastern Sudan at the present day place small receptacles containing grease on their heads, and let it melt and run over their shoulders and bodies, in much the same way tas the Egyptians did. In 1887, at Wadi Halfah, when large tins of soft soap were served out for the use of one of the "Black" battalions, the soldiers went down to the river to bathe and, having well-lathered themselves, each put a lump of soap on the top of his head, and then sat down in the shallow water in the sun and sang songs. What the unguents were perfumed with is not known, but it is probable that any and every strong smelling vegetable oil or essence known to the Egyptians was used by them."
How were the perfumes made and what were they made of?
The ancient Egyptians did not record the exact formulas for their fragrances, but lucky for us, the writings of the classical authors Dioscorides, Pliny and Theophrastus survive to tell their secrets. Some perfume materials are named in the earliest offering lists in the pyramid texts, as well as in tomb and coffin inscriptions and funeral papyri of much later periods. However, it is not always possible to know what ingredient is meant by some ancient word. Still, it is possible to obtain a general idea of ingredients, oils, fats and perfumes used.
Fragrances were prepared with the greatest skill in Egypt and historians know it was a major center for perfume manufacture, but to date, no workshops have been found by archaeologists. All we have to go on are representations of how Egyptians made perfumes on walls of tombs and in special temple chambers that housed perfumes and unguents.
While the ancient Egyptians used many local and imported plants and materials to produce their perfumes and unguents, it has proved difficult to identify all the specific ingredients, some ingredients may even be extinct today. We know that the Egyptians had an extensive knowledge of the properties of aromatic gums and resinous substances over three thousand years ago, and employed them, not only for making their perfumes, but also in embalming their dead. Myrrh, cinnamon, galbanum, and many similar substances are mentioned in the Papyrus Ebers, which was written about 2000 b.c., and a recipe is also given for making pastilles for perfuming the breath.
Perfumes were made in laboratories within temples. At Edfu, in the Temple of Horus, begun by Ptolemy III in 237 BCE, numerous inscriptions on the walls of the perfume laboratories, a room kept in almost total darkness, clearly show how perfumes and ritual oils were made. The most subtle scents created there took up to six months to mature.
One of the special preparation rooms was found in Denderah. This was the domain of priests, who also doubled as the local physician at the time. Discovered on the walls of these preparation rooms were actual formulation notes carved into the stone. These formulations would have literally been a secret hidden in plain sight, as only the priests and scribes knew how to read the hieroglyphic writing.
Recipes for the preparation of perfumes used in the temples are inscribed in stone at Edfu, and a poem has been discovered incised on one of the walls of Karnak, in which Rameses II exhorts the god Ammon to give him victory in battle, with the words: “I have enriched thy domain, and I have sacrificed thirty thousand oxen to thee, with all the sweet-smelling herbs and the finest perfumes.”
Residues and remains found during archaeological excavations have provided convincing evidence as to what ingredients were used at that time in the production of perfumes and oils. Among the many beautiful containers discovered at Luxor was one of great interest, which, on being opened, was found to contain some of the original perfumed unguent that it had held when the tomb was sealed thousands of years ago. The vase or jar was of calcite, which had become naturally sealed, the changes in temperature and moisture caused certain salts to crystallize around the lid and formed a hard protective encrustation.
The contents are described as a rather a sticky substance presenting the appearance of a heterogeneous mixture, consisting of yellow nodules, together with a chocolate-colored body.” It melted partially at the heat of the hand, emitting a faint yet distinctive odor which at first suggested coconut, but afterwards was thought to resemble the flowers of the broom or as being rather valerianaceous in character. Although it had a fatty smell, it was not that associated with advanced rancidity.
The result of an analysis of the substance was given by Chapman and Plenderleith, in a paper communicated to the British Association at the meeting in Oxford in 1926. They stated that “ a careful microscopical examination failed to reveal any traces of vegetable fiber or other organized structures, and that the chemical evidence supported the view that the fat was of animal character. It also seemed to exclude the presence of coconut or palm-kernel oils.
Having regard to all the results, it appeared probable that the cosmetic consisted of about 90 percent, of a neutral animal fat with about 10 percent, of some resin or balsam, and that the smell of the material was probably due to odorous substances formed in process of time from the resins or balsams employed.”
It is quite likely that the faint perfume described as being of “a valerianaceous character” is due to
Indian nard or spikenard that was frequently employed by the Egyptians in making their unguents, as it is now known to have been obtained from a species of valerian and had a very powerful and persistent odor. There seems little doubt that the preservation of the substance is due to the use of olibanum or other gum-resins having antiseptic properties that were known and used by the Egyptians at that period. In any case, this jar contains the most ancient unguent at present known which has retained its perfume for over three thousand years.
But how were they made, exactly?
The ancient Egyptians did not practice the art of distillation as it was not invented until the 11th century by the Arabs, instead, they used three primitive, but common techniques: enfleurage, maceration, and pressing. They used the essences and oils of fruits, spices, herbs, barks, roots, seeds, leaves, grasses, and flower petals to create perfumes.
Enfleurage involves steeping flowers in fat to make scented pomades and creams. An excellent example of a pomade was the aforementioned aromatic unguent cone.
Maceration was the method for removing the essential oils found in certain types of flowers, fruits, herbs and plants. This process happens by soaking mashed plant materials in warm fats, stirring and removing the oil. The mixture was poured through a sieve and cooled. Once cooled, it could be formed into various shapes, or if left in its liquid state, poured into containers or cosmetic spoons.
Another method of maceration was to macerate the raw materials in water, cover the pot with a cloth saturated with fat, place the pot on a fire, and let the scent evaporate into the cloth. The resulting unguent could then be scraped off the cloth and stored.
In the extraction method called enfleurage, the Egyptians placed petals between layers of animal fat, which become saturated with flower oils.
Another common method of extraction used in Egypt was pressing as seen on tomb walls. This technique was already being used to manufacture oils and wine. The raw materials are placed inside of a bag, sticks are tied to each end of the bag and twisted in opposite directions until the essences are expressed from the contents. This is probably the most simplest and cost effective way the ancients obtained essences.
Pliny lists the basic elements used in the manufacture of aromatic unguents. The first was a liquid, almost always an oil, to which was added the scent or odor (spices), a dye to give color and a resin or gun to fix the scent to the liquid. His account is as follows: "the recipe for making unguents contains two ingredients, the juice and the solid part (succus and sorpus), the former of which usually consists of various sorts of oils and the latter of scented substances, the oils being called "astringents" (stymmata) and the scents "sweetenings" (hedysmata)." Together with these there is a third factor that many people neglect, that of color, for the sake of which usually dragon's blood plant or alkanet. A sprinkle of salt served to preserve the properties of the oil, but to scents containing an admixture of alkanet salt is not added. Resin or gum are added to retain the scent in the solid part as it evaporates and disappears very quickly if these are not added....What are called sprinkling powders (diapas'mata) are made of dried scents, the dregs of unguents being termed magma. Among all scents employed the one added last is the most powerful."
Theophrastus describes the raw materials from which the perfumes are prepared: "Perfumes are compounded from various parts of the plants: flowers, leaves, twigs, root, wood, fruit and gum; and in most cases the perfume is made from the mixture of several parts. Rose and gilliflower perfumes are made from the flowers; so also is the perfume called Susinon made from lilies; also the perfume from bergamot, mint and thyme, named Kyrpos; and the saffron perfume. The crocus that produces this is best from Aegina and Cilicia. Instances of those made from the leaves are the perfumed culled from myrtle and dropwort. This grows in Cyprus on the hills and is very fragrant; that which grows in Hellas yields no perfume being scentless. From roots are made the perfumes name from iris, spikenard and sweet marjoram, and ingredient in which is koston; for it is the root to which this perfume is applied. The Eretrian unguent is made from the root of kyperion, which is obtained from Cyclades as well as from Enboea. From wood is made what is called "palm perfume"; for they put in what is called the "spathe," having first dried it. From fruits are made the quince perfume, the myrtle and the bay. The Egyptian is made from several ingredients including cinnamon and myrrh."
Pliny also describes the details on the making of perfume powders and compound perfumes:"As to the mixing of solid substances to make powders and compound perfumes we do not find it here necessary to mix certain specified ingredients; the more numerous and the more various the perfumes are mixed the more distinguished and the more grateful the scent will be....again in perfumes of this class the aim and object is not to make the mixture smell of some one particular thing, but to produce a general scent derived from them all. This is why everyday they open the vessel and remove each time that perfume whose scent is overpowering the other, adding at the same time smaller quantities of the less powerful scents, while some perfumes are added. When they make compound perfumes, they moisten spices with fragrant wine; and this certainly seems to be useful to produce a fragrance seeing that perfumers use it also. These compound perfumes last a long time. They are used to impart a pleasant odor to clothes, while the powders are used for bedding, so that they may come in contact with the skin; for this kind of preparation gets a better hold and is more lasting so that men use it this instead of scenting their bodies directly. Some, before putting the powder in the bedding, soak it with fragrant wine, so that it may acquire its scent and some powders they moisten by mixing them with mead and wine or again simply with mead..."
Theophrastus discusses the spices used in making perfumes: "Almost all spices and sweet scents except flowers are dry, hot, astringent and mordant. Some also possess a certain bitterness, as we have said above, such as iris, myrrh, frankincense and perfumes in general...All spices are given their astringent quality by exposure to fire, but some of them assume their special odors even when cold and not exposed to fire; and it also appears that, just as with vegetable dyes some are applied hot and some cold, so it is with odors. But in all cases, the cooking, whether to produce the astringent quality or to impart the odor proper, is done in vessels standing in water and not in actual contact with the fire; the reason being that the heating must be gentle, and there would be considerable waste if these were in actual contact with the flames; and further the perfume would smell of burning. However there is less waste if the perfume obtains its proper odor by exposure to fire than when it does so in a cold state, since those perfumes which are subjected to fire are first steeped in either fragrant wine or in water; for they absorb less while those which are treated in cold state being dry, absorb more.."
Theophrastus on the properties on various spices we learn that "It is thought that not only the smells of the perfumes contribute to a pleasant taste (of the wine) but also the qualities of pungency and heat which are found in some of them...Now some spices when fresh have at first heavy and pungent qualities but in the course of time become sweet till they have reached their prime and then they loose their properties again. Some perfumes are made up colorless, some are given a color. The dye used for coloring red perfumes is alkanet; the sweet marjoram perfume is dyed with the substance called khroma which is a root imported from Syria."
Theophrastus said that "they use spices in the making of all perfumes; some to thicken the oil (that is render it less volatile), some in order to impart their odor. For in all cases they thicken the oil to some extent to make it take the odor better, just as they treat wool for dyeing (that is he compares the action of the spice with that of a mordant.} The less powerful spices are used for the thickening and then at a later stage they put in the one whose odor they wish to secure. For that which is put in last always dominates."
Theophrastus states that much depends on the season of collection, the time and the "aging" process. "All those made from flowers have little vigor, they are usually at their best after two months and deteriorate quickly after. Perfumes are ruined by a hot season or place or by being put in the sun. That is why perfumers seek upper rooms which do not face the sun but which are shaded as much as possible...This is why men put them into vessels of lead and try to secure phials of alabaster, a stone which has the required effect; for lead is cold and of close texture and stone has that same character, that being the best for keeping perfumes, which has it in the highest degree."
Alexandria, the center for Egyptian perfume manufacture:
Important trading centers developed at Alexandria and Mendes in Egypt and in Palestine. From the first decades of the Roman Empire, Egypt's perfume industry also faced competition because of excellent flower crops in Capua, Neapolis, and Paestum in Italy. Alexandria was a major trade center not only because of its location on the Mediterranean coast, but also because it was linked by canals to the Nile, which facilitated cheap and reliable transport for Egypt's abundant resources such as linen and grain. Since Alexandria was an important hub in the trading world, many of the ingredients used in the perfumes came through the harbor from foreign vessels. The perfumes were then compounded in various perfume workshops in the city. It is likely that most of the jars of perfume manufactured in the vicinity of Alexandria were destined for export.
Together with the local products and imports from Palestine, Syria and Asia Minor they were used for the blending and compounding of perfumes and unguents. This large scale manufacture is described of Pliny: "At Alexandria where frankincense is worked up for sale, good heavens!, no vigilance is sufficient to safeguard the factories (offincae). A seal is put upon the workmen's aprons, they have to wear a mask of net with a close mesh on their heads, and before they are allowed to leave their premises they have to take off all their clothes; so much less honesty is displayed with regard to the produce with them as to the forests with the growers (where no such vigilance is kept)."
The majority of the perfume compounding and bottling was concentrated in the Canopus district of Alexandria. Many fancy little bottle and jars such as lekythoi, bombyli, alabastra, aryballoi gave rise to a flourishing industry of stone and glass containers in Alexandria and other centers for the manufacture of perfumes. Perfume was not only an expensive luxury but a valuable export. Egypt eventually became renowned throughout the ancient world for its perfumes.
The Phoenician merchants exported Egyptian unguents, scented oils, creams, and aromatic wines all over the Mediterranean world and the Arabic peninsula, thereby enhancing the fame and wealth of Egypt, causing the Alexandrian merchants to reap a huge profit. There were several local centers for the manufacture of unguents and perfumes like Corinth, Capua, Chaeroneia, Antiochia and Laodicea but none could compete with Alexandria. Campania would have been the best competitor to Alexandria.
In Oxyrhynchus, Egypt, there was a "street of the ointment makers" and during the late third century AD, a tax of 60 drachmae per month was paid by an "aromatopyles" (dealer in perfumes) and a "myropyles" (dealer in unguents) of Arsinoe.
In his writings, Apollonius of Herophila, one of the earliest scholars to document the aromatic substances used in ancient perfumes, provides fascinating insights into the origins and qualities of various fragrances from different regions. His observations underline the geographical significance of perfume production, but he also emphasizes that the true excellence of each scent stems from the skillful preparation and precise blending of ingredients, rather than simply the location where they were made.
Apollonius points out the specificity of regions that excel in producing certain types of perfumes. The iris, prized for its delicate and earthy aroma, is considered of the highest quality in Elis and Cyzicus. These areas, likely known for their fertile soils, would have cultivated the iris root with care, ensuring a rich, deep fragrance that could be distilled into an oil of exceptional purity. The iris scent would be subtle, powdery, and slightly woody, often associated with refinement and grace.
When it comes to rose perfumes, Phasalis, Naples, and Capua are identified as prime sources, suggesting that these Mediterranean regions were well-known for their luxurious, sweet, and floral rose oils. These rose-based perfumes would have had an intense floral scent—soft, sweet, and heady, a fragrance associated with both romance and purity. The roses from these regions likely grew in climates that enhanced their vibrant, fragrant blooms, making them ideal for high-quality perfume extraction.
For the saffron crocus, the best sources are identified as Soli in Cilicia and Rhodes, where the spice would have been cultivated with great care, producing a saffron essence with a distinctive golden, slightly bitter, and warm aroma. This fragrance would have had both sweet and spicy notes, making it a perfect base for more luxurious and exotic blends.
The spikenard—a deeply rich, woody, and musky scent—was said to reach its finest form at Tanius, where it would have been harvested and distilled with great skill, ensuring its reputation as one of the most exotic and expensive perfumes of the ancient world. Likewise, vine-leaf essence was of particularly high quality in Cyprus and Adramythium, where the fresh, green, and slightly earthy scent of vine leaves would have been distilled into an oil, evoking the vitality of the vine and nature.
According to Apollonius, Egypt was renowned for its cyperus essence, a fragrance extracted from the papyrus-like Cyperus plant, known for its earthy, sweet, and green notes. This essence was considered the best of all—rich, full-bodied, and highly sought after for its balancing, grounding aroma. After Egypt, the Cyprian and Phoenician perfumes, made from bitter almonds and balsam, followed closely in quality. These perfumes would have had a complex profile, with the sharpness of almonds combined with the sweet, resinous notes of balsam, evoking a sense of both refreshment and depth.
The Sidonian perfume, while not as esteemed as the Egyptian or Cyprian, still held a notable place in the ancient fragrance world. It was likely characterized by its own distinctive blend of fruity, resinous, and woody notes, giving it a rich, luxurious profile that would have been appreciated for its depth and balance.
Apollonius also mentions some of the specific, well-known perfumes produced in Athens and Egypt. Panathenaicum, made in Athens, would have been a celebratory fragrance, likely used for religious or public ceremonies, given its association with the Panathenaic Games. This scent might have been characterized by bright, citrusy or herbaceous notes, reflecting the vigor of the Greek city-state. On the other hand, the Metopian and Mendesian perfumes, produced with skill in Egypt, were especially admired for their complexity and refinement. These perfumes would have been created with the finest local ingredients and compounded with precision, offering a sophisticated blend of herbal, floral, and resinous notes.
Despite the regional differences in the sources of raw materials, Apollonius stresses that the true excellence of any perfume lies in the art and science of its preparation. The affinities of the materials—how the ingredients complement and balance one another—play a crucial role in determining the quality of the fragrance. This attention to detail in blending and compounding is what gives each perfume its unique character and depth. The skillful rotation of ingredients ensures that the most compatible elements are harmonized, producing a fragrance that is not only pleasing but also long-lasting and sublime.
Thus, Apollonius’ words reveal that while geography and natural resources contribute to the quality of perfumes, it is the careful and skilled compounding that elevates a fragrance to the highest levels of excellence. The art of perfumery, deeply rooted in ancient practices, was not simply about where a perfume came from but how it was created—through the expert blending of natural ingredients to capture the essence of beauty, luxury, and nature itself.
Where did the ingredients originate?
Scented oils were in use from very early on in Egypt. As early as 2000 BCE fragrant resins and unguents were transported on merchant ships from other countries in the Mediterranean, India and other distant places.
Herodotus gives an account: "Arabia is the last of inhabited land and it is the only country which produced frankincense, myrrh, cassia, cinnamon and labdanum. The Arabians do not get any of these, except the myrrh, with trouble. The frankincense they produce by means of the gum storax, which the Greeks obtain from the Phoenicians; this they burn and thereby obtain the spice." Theophrastus states that frankincense is produced in the country of the Sabians occupying the southern shores of Arabia. They sold it to the Arabs, through whose hands it passed to the Phoenicians, who acted as distributors to the temples throughout their possessions, as well as to the countries with which they traded.
Pliny says that “the Sabians alone knew the tree which produced frankincense, and of these only three thousand families, by virtue of hereditary succession. The trees were regarded as sacred, and while pruning them or gathering the gum, men must be kept from pollution.”
A far-reaching civilizing influence emanated also from Babylonia to the neighboring countries where the caravan routes from India, Arabia, and Syria met. The trade in aromatic gums and fragrant oils with Egypt must have begun at a very early period, as a Babylonian clay tablet, still extant, records an order for “oil of cedar, myrrh, and cypress to be obtained from abroad.”
These early records prove the great antiquity of aromatic perfumes, and show how extensively they were used in past ages. It is evident that they were regarded of the greatest value and equaled that of gold and silver.
The rose attar was imported from Persia and Asia Minor. Calamus, also known as sweet flag was imported from northern Arabia and Syria. Styrax was also imported from Syria. Ships sailing up the Red Sea brought precious opoponax from Yemen. Hammoniac gum was a type of elate-gum or spathe from the Oases of Ammon in Egypt.
Traders from India brought forth the aromatic gum resin myrrh, (from the Balsamodendron myrrha). Myrrh is probably the earliest aromatic gum of which we have record. It is mentioned in several Egyptian papyri of great antiquity. In a papyrus written about 2,000 BCE, in the Hermitage Museum, there is an account of the writer’s journey into Nubia, in which he says: “ I will cause to be brought unto thee fine oils and choice perfumes, and the incense of the temples, whereby every god is gladdened. Of myrrh hast thou not much; all that thou hast is but common incense. Ashipu came and delivered me, and he gave me a shipload of myrrh, fine oil, divers perfumes, eyepaint and the tails of giraffes.”
Other Indian traders exported cinnamon bark, cassia, (the aromatic bark of the Laurus Cassia of southern India, hardly distinguishable from the brown powdered form of cinnamon). Hadramaut and its brown variety came from India. Labdanum (derived from a cistus or rock rose), malabrathum (the leaves of the Cinnamon Tamela), opobalsamum (a second quality stacte), nardus or spikenard (Nardostychas Jatamansi Himalyan) and its Celtic variety (lavender or Saliunca Virg.), costus (root of Saussurea Lappa from Kashmir), cardamom from northern India and galbanum (the gum resin from Ferula galbaniflua of Persia) were imported.
Costly orris root was imported from Elis and Cyzicus (Kuzikos), roses from Phaselis also from Naples and Capua, saffron from the crocus of Cilician Soloi and Rhodes, spikenard from Tanius and Tarsus, dropwort and the extract of vine leaves from Cyprus and Adramythium, marjoram and quince from Cos, and henna and the fruit of a palm called adipsos were locally grown in Egypt. Ships brought precious opoponax from Yemen.
The Egyptians obtained their incense from Punt, now generally accepted to be Ethiopia (in some cases Southern Arabia), from the coastal range of Lebanon and Asia Minor in general, and from Palestine, Syria and Nubia. It was imported in the form of heaps of small grains (called "dry myrrh") or in the form of semi-liquid, plastic resins such as the "fragrant liquid myrrh." The fragrant liquid components seem to have been expressed from the semi-liquid gums or oleo resins in certain cases. Thus a fragrant liquid was produced from myrrh by compressing it. This liquid, called "stacte" by the Greeks, was added to certain perfumes and cosmetics. A Ptolemaic text illustrates this technique: "the red myrrh is weak because of its liquid content, its fragrance is very sweet, if expressed in the bag (bag-press) its content of liquid myrrh is one-fourth."
Queen Hatsepsut, who reigned Egypt in about 1600 b.c., sent an expedition to Punt to bring myrrh and other precious cargo from the fabled land. Her fleet consisted of five ships, which safely reached their destination; and when the captain, Nehsi, had given to Parahu, the Prince of Punt, the gifts which the Queen had sent, the natives loaded her ships with gold, myrrh, ebony, ivory, boomerangs, precious woods, and incense.
The Land of Punt was known as Pwenet or Pwene to the Egyptians, which is interpreted as "Pouen." Pouen to the Greek is known as Opone. The name Opone is an old city in Somalia. Its an obvious fact that Opone exchanged trade with ancient Egypt for centuries. The earliest exchange that we know of was during Pharaoh Khufu's reign during the Fourth Dynasty (c2613-2948 BCE).
Hatshepsut built the beautiful temple of Dier-el-Bahari, and decorated the walls with bas-reliefs illustrating her expedition to Punt, which was regarded as one of the most important events of her reign. The temple's walls illustrate the attempt to import "incense trees" from Punt to grow them in their own country and thus grow independent of the supply by long and dangerous expeditions down the Red Sea. The frankincense trees were brought back whole and planted in specially prepared ground, but apparently refused to grow.
The experiment seems to have failed since similar expeditions continued over the next three hundred years.. One of the inscriptions in the temple, referring to the pictures, records that there were “ thirty-one verdant incense trees brought among the precious things from the land of Punt for the majesty of this god Ammon, the lord of the terrestrial thrones.”
Ingredients used in ancient Egyptian perfumes:
- All-heal (Valerian) - Syria
- Alkanet - Southeast Europe, Turkey
- Apalathos
- Balm of Gilead (Opobalsamum, Carpobalsamum, xylobalsamum, wood balsam) - Arabia
- Bay (Laurel) - Greece, Rome
- Balanos Oil
- Bay
- Bdellium
- Bergamot - Italy
- Bitter almonds - Sicily, North Africa, Southern Gaul
- Bitumen
- Calamus (Sweet Flag) - Europe
- Camel Grass (Lemon Balm) - Middle East
- Cardamom - Northern India
- Cassia (Serichatum) - India
- Cinnabar - Spain
- Cinnamon - India
- Cinnamon Leaf (Malobathrum or Malabrathum) - India
- Cistus - Troas, Attica (Plain of Marathon), Gulf of Glaucus
- Clove - India
- Crocus - Cilicia Soli (Soloi), Asia Minor, Mediterranean
- Costus - Kashmir India, Arabia
- Cyperus - Italy, Siciliy, Europe
- Dropwort - Cyprus, Andramythium, Northern Europe, Asia Minor
- Fenugreek - Rhodes, Cos
- Frankincense - Punt (Somalia), Dhofar, Hadramaut
- Galbanum - Persia
- Germander - Holy Land, Greece (Thermopyle), Lower Egypt, Cyprus
- Gladiolus - Syria
- Helenium (Elecampane) -
- Ginger Grass (Amomum) - western Asia, India
- Glykos wine (sweet wine)
- Hammoniac (Ammoniac) gum - Oases of Ammon, Persia, Libya, Morocco
- Helenium - Egypt
- Henna - Egypt, Syria, India
- Honey - Egypt
- Jasmine - Arabia
- Juniper - Europe
- Labdanum - India, Crete, Gulf of Glaucus
- Lavender - Gulf of Glaucus
- Lentisk (Mastic) - Scio, Egypt
- Lily
- Marjoram (Sampsuchm) - Cos, Troas
- Maro
- Melilot (Sweet Clover) - Europe, Asia
- Mimosa (Acacia) - Egypt, Arabia
- Mint - Europe, North Africa
- Moringa Oil (ben) - North India
- Myrrh - Lebanon, Palestine
- Myrtle - Europe, North Africa
- Narcissus - Europe, North Africa
- Oenanthe (vine leaves perfume)
- Omphacium - Rome
- Opoponax - Yemen
- Orange Blossom
- Orris - Elis, Cyzicus
- Panace (Ginseng) -
- Pine - Arabia, Europe
- Pomegranate - Cyprus, Holy Land
- Quinces - Cos, Greece, Rome
- Roses - Paestum, Phaselis, Naples, Capua, Asia Minor
- Raisins - Egypt, Greece, Rome
- Rosewood
- Saffron - Cilican Soli, Attica (Plain of Marathon), Troas
- Salt
- Sesame Oil - Holy Land
- Sorrel - Egypt
- Spikenard - India, Arabia
- Storax - Gulf of Glaucus, Asia Minor
- Styrax - Syria
- Thyme - Egypt
- Turpentine- Mediterranean
- Wine - Egypt, Rome, Greece
- Wormwood - Cyprus
Carrier Oils:
Theophrastus seems to propose a theory in which the viscosity and "porosity" of the oil is important for its application in perfumes": "Now the composition and preparation of perfumes aim entirely, one may say, at making the odors last. That is why men make the oil the vehicle of them since it keeps a long time and also it is most convenient for sur. By nature indeed oil is not at well suited to take an odor, because of its close and greasy character, and of particular oils this is especially true to the most viscous such as almond oil, while sesame oil and olive oil are the least receptive of all. The oil most used is that derived from the Egyptian or Syrian balanos, since this is the least viscous; the olive oil which is most used is that pressed from coarse olives in the raw state (omphacium) since this is thought to be the least greasy. Some say that for unguent the oil derived from bitter almonds is best; these are abundant in Cilicia where an unguent is made from them. It is said that this is suitable for choice perfumes like the oil of the Egyptian balanos; this is suitable in itself, however the shells of the fruit are thrown into the oil to give it a good odor: indeed they are also thrown into that which is made from bitter almonds."
The tree from which the Oil of Ben was obtained was called in ancient times Balanos or Myrobalanon ( “Ointment acorn” ). It is the Moringa aptera, a plant indigenous to Arabia and Egypt, whose fruits, the Ben nuts, yield the oil by expression. One of the most famous perfumes was balanos, manufactured in the city of Mendes., in the Nile Delta, and exported from there to Rome. It was made from oil obtained by crushing the kernels found inside fruit of the balanos, or "false balsam," tree, mixed with myrrh and resin. The most popular basic oil was balanos and the most widespread the castor oil used by the poor.
The Cretans also exported large quantities of oil to Egypt, where it was used to make unguents and cosmetics, as well as to embalm mummies. The olive oil which is often used instead of the more expensive balanos-oil (often called "benben-oil" in the texts) came from Achaia and Syconia Sinope, Samos and later from Spanish Baetica too. The best olive oil was imported from Capua, which produced the Licinian oil.
Omphacium is an oil or juice pressed from unripe olives, dates or the seeds of grapes harvested in mid-summer. Pliny explains that "oil is made from aspalathus, reed, balsam, iris, cardamom, melilot, Gallic nard (lavender?), all-heal, marjoram, helenium and cinnamon root by steeping all these plants in (olive-) oil and then pressing out the juice. In the same way rush-oil, rose oil, henbane, lupine and narcissus oil are made."
Bitter almond oil was imported from Sicily and North Africa, some of it may have come from as far away as southern Gaul.
Unguents were made from animal (known as ainu in ancient Egyptian) such as oxen, geese or pigs or vegetable fats.
The Major Perfumes of Cleopatra & Julius Caesar:
Cyprinium: (oil of henna):
Cyprinum (also called kypros) was first made in Cyprus, later made in Egypt, had a sort of sweet scent and was made up of rush, alkanet, honey, salt, crushed henna flowers and seeds, calamus, wormwood, rosewood, cinnamon, cardamom, aspalathos, cinnamon, sweet flag myrrh, sesame oil, all-heal, rainwater, cyperus, southernwood, omphacium (unripe green olive oil), and old wine.
Theophrastus (300 BCE) tells us that "to make kypros they put in cardamom and aspalathos having first steeped them into sweet wine. The manufacture of kypros resembles that of rose-perfume, except that unless one takes out the flowers and squeezes them out, decay sets in and ruins the perfume by giving it a disagreeable smell, since they cause decay as they get soaked."
Pliny the Elder (60 AD) gives the recipe as henna seeds, green olive oil, sweet flag myrrh, cardamom and southernwood.
Dioscorides provides a recipe for henna, green olive oil, rainwater, aspalathos, sweet flag, cardamom, myrrh, cinnamon and old wine. A bit of oil was combined with water and the herbs were placed in it to macerate, except for the myrrh and sweet flag which steeped in wine. These two are then combined and boiled. The plant material is strained off, leaving an oil and then the fresh henna flowers were added. This is allowed to macerate and then strained off. To create a stronger scent, the step of adding henna flowers could be done another one or two times by using the same perfumed oil. Dioscorides also adds that one may add the pungent scent cinnamon to the blend as well. Dioscorides noted that such a perfume could then last for three years.
The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: Cyperus, cardamon, calamus, rose wood oil, wormwood oil, onphamcium (oil of unripe olive).
"The grass-like cyperus yields a pleasant violet scent. Cyprinium was first made on the island of Cyprus, the legendary birthplace of Venus (Aphrodite), but subsequently was manufactured in Egypt (Pliny, N.H. XIII.5). According to the 3rd century A.D. writer Athenaeus, the Egyptians made the best variety, followed by that produced by Cypriots, Phoenicians, and Sidonians (XV.38)."
Scent Profile of Cyprinum:
As the stopper is lifted from the alabaster vessel, Cyprinum unveils itself in layers—its scent a richly woven tapestry of sweetness, spice, and the deep, resinous breath of time. The first impression is warm and honeyed, a golden sweetness suffused with the sun-drenched aroma of wildflowers and beeswax. The thick, nectarous scent of honey clings to the air, tempered by the subtle mineral sharpness of salt, which heightens the surrounding notes like sunlight glinting off alabaster walls. Beneath this, the crushed henna flowers release their delicate, tea-like fragrance, their soft floral quality tinged with a faint whisper of earth and dried leaves. The henna seeds add a slightly tannic depth, grounding the perfume’s initial sweetness with the green scent of crushed foliage.
As the scent deepens, Cyprinum becomes a symphony of spice and wood, led by the warm, aromatic embrace of cinnamon and cardamom. The fiery sweetness of cinnamon unfurls like curling smoke, wrapping itself around the zesty, peppery brightness of cardamom, a contrast of heat and freshness that lingers tantalizingly on the senses. Calamus and sweet flag intertwine, their scents rich and complex—woody, slightly bitter, and tinged with a whisper of gingered warmth. The presence of aspalathos, with its honeyed, sun-dried grasses, introduces a smooth, golden softness, like a warm breeze drifting through desert dunes.
Within this heart of spice and resin, myrrh emerges like an ancient offering—deep, balsamic, and gently smoky, its bittersweet richness carrying the weight of sacred rituals and temple incense. Rosewood’s soft floral woods temper the intensity, lending a creamy, powdery smoothness, while wormwood introduces a green, slightly medicinal sharpness that flickers at the edges, adding a touch of the enigmatic. The infusion of all-heal, with its musky, root-like earthiness, laces the scent with an almost leather-like depth, while the cyperus root, dark and smoky, weaves a whisper of dry papyrus and ancient scrolls.
A subtle herbaceous sharpness rises from the southernwood and rush, their aromas reminiscent of crushed leaves and sun-warmed reeds by the banks of the Nile. Rainwater lends a fresh, airy quality, a fleeting coolness against the perfume’s otherwise rich and intoxicating body. The presence of omphacium—unripe green olive oil—introduces a thick, resinous fruitiness, slightly bitter yet smooth, reminiscent of freshly pressed olives still clinging to their branches. This richness is met by the deep, fermented sweetness of old wine, its tannic, dark fruit essence mingling with the resinous glow of myrrh and spice, adding a final touch of opulent decadence.
As Cyprinum settles upon the skin, it becomes an embodiment of warmth and mystery, its scent shifting between the golden sweetness of honey, the soft spice of cinnamon and cardamom, and the ancient depth of myrrh and cyperus. The perfume lingers like an echo of distant times—its scent not just an adornment, but a relic of sacred rituals, of temple walls bathed in golden light, of a world where fragrance was more than beauty; it was divinity itself.
Metopium: (oil of bitter almonds & galbanum):
Metopium (Metopion) was made up of oil of bitter almonds, mixed with honey, galbanum, wine, turpentine resin, myrrh, resin, cardamom, rush, camel grass, balsamum seed (balm of gilead), omphacium and calamus (sweet flag).
The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: Bitter almonds, cardamom, rush, calamus, honey, wine, myrrh, balsam, galbanum, turpentine resin, onpahacium."
"Bitter almond oil produces a fragrance reminiscent of marzipan. Metopium was one of the most popular unguents during the first half of the first century A.D. Again, the Egyptians and the Phoenicians made the best varieties (Pliny, N.H. XIII. 6, 8-9, Ath. XV.3)."
Scent Profile for Metopium:
As the ancient glass vial is unsealed, Metopium rises in the air like a spell of sharp contrasts—both bitter and sweet, resinous and floral, dark yet glowing with golden warmth. The first breath is laced with the rich, marzipan-like aroma of bitter almond oil, its scent thick and intoxicating, yet tinged with a shadow of cyanide’s dark whisper. This sharp, nutty essence is softened by the heavy sweetness of honey, which drapes over it like molten amber, smoothing its edges and infusing the perfume with a nectarous depth. The scent of aged wine lingers in the background, its tannic, fermented fruitiness adding a subtle sharpness, like the remnants of an ancient libation left to warm in the sun.
Galbanum, green and piercing, cuts through the sweetness with a raw, vegetal intensity—its scent both fresh and slightly animalic, as if the very sap of the earth had been distilled into a single note. It carries the scent of crushed leaves and bruised stems, an untamed sharpness that mingles with turpentine resin, adding a crisp, pine-like brightness. The turpentine lends a volatile, almost camphoric quality, rising and falling like waves, its sharpness gradually mellowing as it fuses with the deeper, smoldering notes beneath.
The heart of Metopium pulses with the sacred breath of myrrh—dark, balsamic, and faintly smoky, its bittersweet richness adding an air of solemnity, as though one were standing before the altars of an ancient temple. The scent of resin swells around it, warm and golden, its glow enhancing the depth of myrrh, much like sunlight streaming through the perfumed chambers of a sanctuary. This resinous core is deepened by cardamom, its spicy sweetness radiating with an exotic warmth, adding a whisper of citrusy brightness alongside its warm, peppery heart.
Rush and camel grass introduce an earthy, sun-dried quality, reminiscent of desert breezes stirring through ancient reeds. Their grassy, hay-like aroma lingers in the background, softening the sharper edges of resin and spice. The balsamum seed—Balm of Gilead—adds a rich, almost medicinal sweetness, its scent reminiscent of healing balms and aromatic ointments, its deep, amber-like glow suffusing the perfume with an ancient wisdom.
Omphacium, the green oil pressed from unripe olives, lends a dense, waxy fruitiness, slightly bitter and a touch metallic, a scent that seems to tether the perfume to both earth and antiquity. This richness is balanced by the dry, woody spice of calamus, its warm, ginger-like aroma winding through the composition, adding a soft, smoky whisper.
As Metopium settles into the skin, its many facets continue to unfurl—first the bitter almond’s ghostly sweetness, then the green sharpness of galbanum and rush, deepened by the resinous glow of myrrh and Balm of Gilead. It is an enigmatic perfume, one that speaks of sacred rituals, the wisdom of healers, and the quiet reverence of a temple bathed in golden light. It is both a fragrance and an invocation, a scent that lingers like an echo from a lost civilization, whispering secrets of the past with every breath.
Myrtum Laurum: (oil of myrtle and laurel):
Myrtinum (oil of Persia) was composed of green olive oil, water, laurel, black myrtle leaves, marjoram, lily, fenugreek, myrrh, cassia, spikenard, rush, cinnamon, bay, omphacium, pomegranate rind, cypress, cyperus grass, camel grass, sweet flag, and mastic.
"Myrtle has a fresh, herbal scent while laurel has a slightly spicier fragrance. This was among the least costly of fragrant unguents and therefore among the most popular (Pliny, N.H. XIII. 10-11)."The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: Myrtle, laurel, marjoram, lily, fenugreek, myrrh, cassia, spikenard, rush, cinnamon.
Scent Profile for Myrtum Laurum:
When the perfume Myrtum Laurum is first exposed to the air, it unfurls with the vibrancy of a lush, sun-dappled grove, where aromatic herbs and fruits are mingling in the warm breeze. The opening is clean and green, led by the cool, refreshing breath of myrtle and laurel—crisp and slightly resinous, their leaves releasing an herbaceous burst that evokes the feeling of walking through a forest after rain. The myrtle’s sweet, almost floral undertones are balanced by the sharper, more camphoraceous freshness of laurel, their combination creating a bright, lively opening that immediately feels both cleansing and invigorating.
As the perfume settles, the richness of green olive oil emerges, grounding the initial greenness with a smooth, slightly fruity base. This oil adds a silken texture to the perfume, bringing out the softer aspects of the scent, while its faint bitterness subtly enhances the overall aromatic complexity. Water is hinted at in the background, contributing to the freshness of the composition, as though the scent of the olive grove is damp with dew.
A deeper, herbaceous warmth begins to unfold, primarily through the presence of marjoram and fenugreek. Marjoram’s soft, sweet-spicy character carries the fragrance of dried leaves and gentle blossoms, with a subtle, almost creamy warmth that sways between savory and sweet. Fenugreek’s scent brings a milky, hay-like sweetness, rounded and slightly nutty, like an ancient grain harvested under the midday sun. These notes intertwine seamlessly, adding a comforting richness to the perfume.
In the heart of the perfume, the heavy, resinous notes of myrrh enter, enveloping the green brightness with a deep, balsamic darkness. The myrrh’s smokiness and bittersweetness add weight to the composition, invoking a sense of solemnity, as if one were standing before sacred incense in a temple. This resinous depth is balanced by the sweet spiciness of cassia, which blooms like cinnamon yet remains softer and sweeter, reminiscent of honeyed bark warmed by the sun. Spikenard, with its earthy, woody aroma, adds a further layer of complexity—its scent is rich and almost musky, like ancient woods steeped in time.
Rush and cinnamon intertwine with the deeper resinous notes, their crisp, spicy aromas cutting through the richness. Rush offers a dry, grassy, and slightly aquatic note, reminiscent of reeds swaying by a riverbank, while cinnamon introduces its warm, sweet spiciness—a touch of heat that tingles at the edges of the composition. Bay and cypress add an evergreen lift, their cool, resinous fragrances evoking the scent of dense forests, where the air is filled with the smell of pine and damp earth.
Omphacium, the unripe green olive oil, introduces a bitter, slightly astringent quality that enhances the fresh greenness of the perfume. Pomegranate rind, with its tangy, leathery depth, mingles beautifully with the other fruits and herbs, offering a hint of citrus and tartness that balances the sweet and resinous notes. Cypress and cyperus grass continue this natural, woody theme, giving the perfume an almost outdoorsy feel, as though it were made from the very materials of the earth, gathered from forests, fields, and groves.
Camel grass and sweet flag offer an additional layer of warmth and complexity—camel grass has a slightly smoky, hay-like scent, while sweet flag adds a faintly gingered, earthy note, smooth and spicy. Mastic, with its rich, balsamic, and pine-like sweetness, ties everything together, imbuing the perfume with a resinous, slightly medicinal fragrance that adds to its ancient, sacred atmosphere.
Myrtum Laurum, in its final form, is a fragrance that evokes the rich natural world of ancient Egypt. It’s a perfume that speaks of forests, groves, and temples, where the scent of herbs, resin, and the earth itself blend together into a sacred, aromatic whole. It is at once fresh and deep, lively and meditative, creating an experience that is both invigorating and grounding. The perfume is a living, breathing creation, composed of green foliage, rich resins, and the faint sweetness of ancient blossoms, a fragrance that lingers in the air like an eternal reminder of the land’s enduring beauty.
Regale Unguentum: (royal unguent):
Royal Unguent was composed of twenty ingredients. Pliny says that 'Royal' perfume is so-called because it is produced for the kings of Parthia; it is a blend of behen-nut juice, costus, Syrian cinnamon, cardamom, spikenard, cat-thyme, myrrh, cinnamon bark, styrax tree gum, labdanum, balsam, Syrian reed and rush, wild grape, cinnamon leaf, cypress, rosewood, panace, gladiolus, marjoram, lotus, honey and wine. Nine of the ingredients of Royal perfume are grown in Italy, the conqueror of the world and indeed none in the whole of Europe excepting the iris in Illyria and the nard (lavender?) in Gaul. For wine, roses, myrtle leaves and olive oil may all be accepted as the common property of almost all countries." It closely resembles the "oil of holy ointment" mentioned in the Old Testament.
Other ingredients were lavender, germander, calamus, Malabar or Indian bay, saffron, henna, Indian almond, and omphacium.
Athenaeus reports that King Darius III Codomannos had 40 unguent-cookers in his retinue and the recipe of the Royal Ointment so popular in the classical world came from Persia.
"This exotic fragrance blended from a myriad of rare ingredients was originally created for the Asian kings of Parthia (Pliny, N.H., XIII.18). The ancient Parthian empire reached from the Euphrates River in the west to the Indus River in the east, and from the Indian Ocean north to the Oxus River."The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: Balanus oil, costus, amomum, cinnamon, cardamon, spikenard, maro, myrrh, cassia, styrax, labdanum, balsam, calamus, rush, lavender, clover, rosa pimpinellifolia, oenanthe, malobathrum, serichatum, cyperus, rose wood oil, panace, crocus blossoms, henna, marjoram, lotus, honey, wine, laurel, saffron.
Scent Profile of Regale Unguentum:
When Regale Unguentum is first inhaled, it immediately transports you to the opulence and grandeur of an ancient royal court. The perfume opens with a rich, resinous sweetness that is both regal and intoxicating. The base of balanos oil, with its smooth, slightly fatty texture, imparts a subtle, round warmth that cradles the other ingredients, giving the fragrance an almost golden, waxy presence, like the soft glow of a royal seal pressed into wax. The initial impression is soft yet deeply soothing, the richness of olive oil and myrtle leaves adding a touch of familiar earthiness to the opening, their green, slightly bitter aromas blending harmoniously with the deeper, resinous tones.
The heart of the fragrance quickly evolves with the introduction of spices. The costus and Syrian cinnamon combine to create a heady, pungent warmth—costus brings a rich, earthy, and slightly animalic note that feels both musky and deep, while cinnamon swirls around it in a gentle, sweet, and fiery embrace. The sharp, aromatic essence of cardamom adds an exotic, zesty freshness, its green, citrusy warmth punctuating the spicy blend with a lively zing. This trio of spices creates an aromatic heat that feels both ancient and luxurious, evoking images of incense-filled chambers and banquets fit for kings.
As the perfume unfurls further, the sweeter, more delicate notes begin to emerge, adding complexity and refinement. Spikenard and rosewood lend a soft, floral richness, their earthy, woody depths enveloped in a subtle sweetness. Spikenard’s scent is almost medicinal—slightly herbal and musky—while rosewood’s smooth, creamy woodiness brings balance to the fragrance, making it feel both grounding and ethereal. At the same time, cinnamon bark and cinnamon leaf enhance the spicy warmth, reinforcing the blend’s fiery and comforting qualities with their aromatic depth.
The presence of myrrh adds a sacred, balsamic richness, dark and resinous, wrapping the perfume in a heavy, solemnity that speaks of ritual and reverence. Its warm, smoky undertones are perfectly paired with the styrax tree gum, which infuses the blend with a balsamic sweetness, its slightly vanilla-like warmth softening the harsher notes of the spices and resins. Together, these notes create a deep, rich base, like the scent of ancient temple altars, where incense smoke lingers in the air, intermingled with the luxurious perfumes of royalty.
As the fragrance continues to evolve, hints of labdanum and balsam provide a smoky, resinous sweetness, both rich and dark, with an almost leathery feel. Their presence makes the perfume feel both ancient and sensual, like the scent of royal robes, fine leather, and golden vessels. The subtle sweetness of wild grape intertwines with the deeper, resinous notes, offering a light, fruity contrast that keeps the perfume from becoming too heavy. It is as though the fragrance were dipped in the juice of a ripe grape harvested under the scorching sun of Egypt, lending an almost mouthwatering quality to the blend.
Midway through, a bouquet of floral and herbaceous notes begins to emerge. Cypress and lotus add a subtle aquatic greenness, with lotus imparting a watery floral note that feels both cool and elegant. Meanwhile, iris lends a soft, powdery elegance, its floral scent imbued with a faintly violet undertone, while lavender brings an herbaceous, slightly minty freshness to the composition, heightening the overall sense of regal complexity. The panace (a rare herb known for its medicinal properties) introduces a bright, peppery sharpness that offsets the perfume’s more resinous, balsamic elements, keeping the scent from becoming too rich or overwhelming.
Further into the fragrance, notes of germander and calamus add earthy, spicy warmth. The former is slightly herbal and peppery, while the latter brings a dry, woody, and faintly ginger-like quality that deepens the complexity of the perfume. These notes seem to pulse like the faint heartbeat of an ancient land—earthy, warm, and timeless. The Malabar bay and Indian almond introduce hints of green bitterness and almond-like sweetness, respectively, with the latter adding an almost nutty softness to the fragrance, a delicate touch of luxury that feels both exotic and familiar.
The final stages of the perfume are marked by the subtle, almost musky warmth of saffron, which adds a spicy richness that enhances the scent’s complexity, making it feel both precious and rare. The soft, powdery scent of clover rounds out the base with a fresh sweetness that balances the weightier resins and spices. Finally, the fragrance returns to its green roots, with the fresh, slightly herbal notes of henna and omphacium (unripe olive oil) binding the whole composition together, offering a final burst of natural, green freshness.
Regale Unguentum is an opulent fragrance, blending richness with complexity. The spices, resins, florals, and fruits all intertwine to create a perfume that feels both powerful and ethereal, regal and mysterious. It conjures images of ancient royal banquets, the scent of incense, fresh blooms, and resplendent treasures, enveloping the wearer in the scent of the gods, the earth, and the eternal luxury of Egypt’s royal courts.
Rhodinum: (oil of rose):
Rhodinon was composed of green olive oil, roses, camel grass, aspalathos, sweet flag, salt, cinnamon, calamus, omphacium, saffron, honey, rush, wine, alkanet, rose leaves. Theophrastus mentioned that "to make rose-perfume they put in ginger-grass, aspalathos and sweet flag: and these are steeped as in the case of kypros. So too into each of the others they put the spices that suit them. Into rose-perfume moreover is put a quantity of salt: this treatment is peculiar to this perfume and involves a great deal of waste, 23 gallons of salt being put into eight gallons and a half of perfume."
Pliny records that he "was inclined to believe that the perfumes most widely used are derived from the rose, which grows everywhere in profusion. So the simplest compound was for a long time, attar of roses mixed severally with unripe olive or grape juice, rose and saffron blossoms, cinnabar, reed, honey, rush, flower of salt, anchusa or wine."
The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: Rose blossoms, crocus blossoms, cinnabar, calamus, honey, rush, alkanet, wine, sublimated salt, onphacium.
"Rhodinum was originally made in Phaselis in Lycia (not far from Antalya, Turkey), but later the best was made in Italy at Naples, Capua and Palestrina. Pliny wrote that roses were the most widely used ingredient in fragrant unguents, because the flower grew in great abundance everywhere (N.H. XIII. 5,9-10)."
Scent Profile of Rhodinum:
When Rhodinum is first opened, the air is immediately filled with a lush, green burst of freshness—a vivid, almost dewy aroma that rises like a mist from a blooming garden at dawn. The initial scent is a beautiful, verdant greenness, dominated by the pure, slightly herbaceous aroma of green olive oil, which grounds the fragrance with a smooth, subtle earthiness. The oil’s natural, slightly fruity undertone creates an elegant base, allowing the more delicate and complex elements to shine above it.
At once, the fragrance swells with the unmistakable, intoxicating presence of roses. The rose scent in Rhodinum is not the sharp, overly sweet fragrance of a modern rose but rather a more ancient, rich, and multifaceted bloom. The rose petals feel velvety and full of life, with their honeyed sweetness intertwined with a faint, delicate spiciness. It is lush, but with an almost green freshness, as though the petals are still covered in dew. The addition of rose leaves further enriches this rose accord, adding a slightly bitter, slightly peppery quality that complements the sweetness and gives the scent a more complex, natural feel, as though the fragrance embodies the entire rose bush—its blooms and its leaves.
As the perfume develops, the fragrance becomes more herbal and warm. The dry, grassy aroma of camel grass adds an earthy, hay-like quality, which blends seamlessly with the green notes of olive oil and rose leaves. This soft herbal undertone gives the perfume a subtle rusticity, evoking the warmth of an ancient Egyptian garden, where the fragrance of wild grasses mingles with the cultivated blooms. Aspalathos, a sweet, slightly resinous herb, adds a soft sweetness that enhances the depth of the rose, almost as if the flowers are being kissed by the natural sweetness of the earth itself.
The sweet flag brings a slightly spicy, almost ginger-like warmth to the composition, a faintly citrusy sharpness that balances out the more floral notes and introduces an aromatic freshness that feels like a gentle breeze moving through the garden. This sharpness is complemented by the cinnamon, which brings a soft, sweet warmth, reminiscent of ancient incense and sacred rituals. Its spicy, slightly woody nature gives Rhodinum a subtle richness, adding depth to the otherwise light and fresh floral opening.
There is an intriguing complexity in Rhodinum’s heart. The faint sweetness of honey threads through the fragrance, giving the rose and herbs a soft, golden sheen. This honeyed sweetness is not heavy or overpowering, but rather it lingers gently, evoking the image of honeycombs nestled among wild flowers, a touch of indulgence amid the natural earthiness. The perfume is further deepened by rush, which adds a fresh, aquatic green note, lightening the heavier floral accords with its airy, breezy scent, like the scent of reeds by a riverbank.
Hints of wine appear subtly in the background, with the sharp, fruity scent of fermented grapes lending a delicate tang, almost like the last vestiges of a warm vintage, slowly fading away in the background. This fleeting presence adds an ancient, luxurious touch, evoking banquets and sacred offerings poured out for the gods.
As Rhodinum continues to settle, it evolves into a more complex, slightly resinous composition, thanks to the addition of alkanet, which imparts a smooth, slightly woody sweetness with a touch of floral undertone. The omphacium (unripe green olive oil) adds a faint bitterness, a green sharpness that sharpens the sweetness of the roses and balances the honeyed notes, anchoring the fragrance in nature’s rawest elements. This slight bitterness gives Rhodinum a subtle, herbal backbone, making it feel more grounded and organic, rather than overly sweet or perfumed.
Finally, saffron makes a subtle, luxurious appearance, with its warm, slightly leathery sweetness providing a final layer of depth. Its presence is gentle yet distinct, adding a touch of opulence to the overall composition, like the final gleam of gold on a royal garment. This spice rounds out the perfume’s complexity, giving it an ancient, timeless quality that feels both regal and deeply connected to the earth.
Rhodinum is a fragrance that speaks of purity and nature. It is an aromatic evocation of an ancient garden in full bloom, where roses, herbs, and grasses intertwine in harmony with the earth, kissed by the warmth of the sun and the gentleness of a cool breeze. It is a luxurious yet natural fragrance—intensely floral, with a rich green heart, underpinned by warm spices, honeyed sweetness, and a soft, resinous depth. It is a scent that would have graced the royal court of Egypt, offering an elegant and divine tribute to the timeless beauty of the rose.
Susinum: (oil of lilies):
Susinum, stated by Dioscorides, was specifically a perfume primarily made up of water lilies but also had other ingredients of balanos oil, myrrh, calamus, omphacium, orris root, cardamom, moringa oil, sweet flag, cinnamon, honey, saffron, fragrant wine, crocus, salt, and balsam.
The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: lily blossoms, balsam, crocus blossoms, balanus, cinnamon, saffron, calamus, honey, myrrh.
"The oil of lily blossoms has a honey-like floral scent with rich, fruity undertones reminiscent of figs and plums. Considered the most refined and delicate of fragrant unguents, susinum was made both in Sidon and in Egypt (Pliny, N.H. XIII. 11-12)."
Scent Profile for Susinum:
When Susinum first meets the senses, the experience is as if one has stepped into an ancient, serene pond, where water lilies float serenely upon the surface. The initial scent is distinctly floral, but it is not the overly heady sweetness of a modern flower. Instead, the fragrance is a delicate yet intoxicating mixture of water lilies, their scent honeyed and soft, with nuances of fig and plum that offer rich, fruity undertones. The honey-like quality is sweet without being cloying, a subtle nectar that feels both ethereal and grounding, like the first rays of sunlight warming the cool water of a sacred pond.
Beneath this luminous floral introduction, balanos oil gives the fragrance a smooth, slightly waxy depth. It’s soft and round, anchoring the fragrance with its creamy, almost comforting texture. This base note weaves through the lighter floral elements, lending the scent a richness that feels ancient and soothing, much like the oil anointed upon statues in royal temples. The moringa oil adds a slightly nutty, green quality to the composition, deepening the floral accord with an almost herbal undertone, while simultaneously enriching the overall texture of the fragrance. It brings a delicate, vegetable-like note, an earthiness that tempers the sweetness of the lilies and balances the more ethereal notes of the perfume.
The scent quickly evolves as myrrh adds a smoky, resinous warmth to the blend. Myrrh’s balsamic quality grounds the fragrance, offering a profound, meditative depth. It’s dark, slightly medicinal, and slightly sweet, like ancient incense burning in the background of a sacred ritual. The addition of calamus (sweet flag) brings an aromatic, slightly spicy warmth, with a light citrusy edge that imparts a fresh, invigorating quality. It adds to the feeling of a sunlit garden or pond in the early morning, where cool breezes meet warm, floral air.
The fragrance takes on more complexity with the appearance of orris root, which introduces a powdery, woody element that adds a sense of elegance and refinement. Orris root brings a soft, violet-like sweetness that blends seamlessly with the floral honey of the lilies, deepening the perfume’s sweetness while giving it a timeless, almost vintage feel. As the fragrance unfurls further, cardamom and cinnamon introduce warmth and spice, adding an exotic depth to the composition. The cardamom is green, slightly citrusy, and fragrant, giving a sharp, vibrant contrast to the creamy lily and soft resinous elements. Cinnamon, in turn, adds a mild heat, its subtle sweetness accentuating the floral honey while rounding out the spiciness of the other ingredients.
The saffron adds a luxurious and almost leathery richness to the perfume. It brings a faintly spicy, earthy depth, which subtly contrasts with the lightness of the lilies, enhancing the honeyed floral note with an almost regal quality. This touch of opulence evokes a sense of ritual and celebration, as though the perfume were created for a goddess or royal figure. The fragrant wine note, though faint, adds a lively, slightly fruity undertone—like a sweet, fermented nectar harvested from ancient vineyards. This note seems to shimmer within the composition, brightening the deep floral and resinous base with a touch of effervescence.
Hints of crocus and salt emerge softly in the background, adding an intriguing freshness. Crocus introduces a faintly sweet, floral element that lingers lightly at the edges of the perfume, while the salt adds a subtle mineral edge, like a gentle breeze over the water of the Nile. These notes infuse the fragrance with a touch of airiness, making it feel fresh and alive without compromising the deeper, richer elements. Finally, balsam provides a final layer of resinous sweetness, rounding the composition with a soft, rich warmth that ties all the elements together. It is not overwhelming but serves to soften the sharpness of the spices and balance the bright floral and fruity notes.
In Susinum, the scent of water lilies dominates, but it is never a simple floral fragrance. Instead, the perfume is a complex, layered composition—honeyed yet earthy, fresh yet rich, light yet deep. It carries the weight of ancient Egypt's mysteries, evoking images of sacred ponds adorned with blooms and the scent of royal incense carried on the breeze. The combination of floral sweetness, spicy warmth, resinous depth, and fruity richness makes this fragrance both luxurious and timeless, a tribute to the purity of nature and the opulence of royal life. It is a scent that would have graced the skin of Pharaohs, evoking serenity, grace, and divine beauty.
Telinum: (oil of fenugreek):
Telinum used to be manufactured on the island of Telos, which is one of the Cyclades. Its manufacture was also found in Egypt. Telinum was at once bitter and sweet, its base was of honey, sweet marjoram, rose hips, fenugreek, cypress, calamus, melilot, onphacium, and balm, prepared with wine. This was reportedly a favorite of Julius Caesar.
"The crushed seeds of the herb fenugreek yield an intensely sweet fragrance with notes of a celery like spiciness. It was the most celebrated unguent in the time of the Greek comic playwright Menander (342-291 B.C.), but had lost its popularity by Pliny's day (1st century A.D.). Julius Caesar is said to have made use of this fragrance by Isadorus (Etymologies 4.12). Syria was known for making excellent telinum (Ath. XV.38)."
The perfume oil included in the Cleopatra & Julius Caesar set was made up of the following ingredients: fenugreek, cyperus, calamus, melilot, honey, maro, marjoram, onphacium.
Scent Profile for Telinum:
When the ancient Egyptian perfume Telinum is first inhaled, it evokes an immediate and striking contrast of bitterness and sweetness, a fragrance that feels both grounded and elusive, complex yet inviting. The opening is sharp and herbaceous, with the fenugreek dominating the first moments. The scent of fenugreek is unmistakable—a blend of bitter and slightly sweet, with a dry, nutty aroma that can almost be compared to toasted seeds or a faint, almost maple-like warmth. This bitter-sweetness creates an intense first impression, a rich, aromatic tang that sets the stage for the more delicate layers to unfold.
Underneath this sharpness, the sweetness begins to take shape. The honey base wraps the fragrance in its warm, golden embrace, smoothing out the harsh edges of fenugreek with its natural, soothing sweetness. The honey is rich but not overpowering, providing a touch of decadence that feels deeply ancient and luxurious, as if this fragrance were a rare elixir reserved for the most elite in Egyptian or Roman society. The honey note enhances the fragrance with its viscous, sweet richness, carrying hints of waxiness and a soft, floral undertone that brings balance to the initial bitterness of the fenugreek.
The next wave of the fragrance is filled with sweet marjoram, which introduces an herbal, almost citrus-like freshness. This herb adds an uplifting quality, its slightly warm, spicy sweetness interplaying with the honey to create an overall effect of gentle warmth. The marjoram note acts as a bridge between the more bitter and sweet elements, providing a smooth, rounded heart to the composition. This is further enriched by the presence of rose hips, which add a slightly tart, fruity layer to the mix. The scent of rose hips is tangy and slightly floral, with a fresh, juicy aroma that balances out the heavier, more aromatic notes.
Cypress deepens the fragrance with its woody, resinous undertones. It brings an earthy, almost balsamic depth that contrasts beautifully with the sweeter and fresher elements. The cypress introduces a cool, green sharpness, like walking through a shaded grove, its evergreen aroma serving as a backdrop to the richness of the honey and fenugreek. It enhances the fragrance with a sense of ancient forests and regal gardens, grounding the more volatile herbs and flowers in nature's enduring strength.
Calamus (sweet flag) enters next with its distinctive, aromatic profile. The spicy, peppery edge of calamus mingles with the herbal and bitter notes, adding complexity and a refreshing lift. Its sharpness is like a gust of wind passing through the garden, carrying the scent of freshly crushed herbs. This sharp freshness contrasts with the richer, honeyed aspects of the perfume, providing balance and a crispness that keeps the fragrance feeling alive and vibrant.
The addition of melilot, with its sweet, hay-like aroma, rounds out the heart of Telinum, introducing a gentle, almost powdery sweetness that softens the bitter notes while maintaining the perfume’s herbal character. The melilot’s faint vanilla-like sweetness weaves seamlessly with the honey, offering a touch of smoothness to the overall composition.
Omphacium (unripe olive oil) adds a slightly bitter, green, and fruity layer, lending a slightly astringent sharpness to the perfume. Its green, almost vegetal bitterness mingles with the other notes, anchoring the fragrance with a sense of raw, unpolished nature. The bitterness of omphacium further intensifies the contrast between the sweet honey and bitter herbs, adding a natural freshness that feels alive, unrefined, and organic.
Finally, the scent is enriched by the faint presence of balm, which adds a soft, resinous warmth and a slight medicinal touch, deepening the perfume’s complexity. Its subtle woody, slightly camphoraceous notes lend the fragrance a mystical, almost sacred quality, evoking images of ancient temples and the incense-filled air of royal chambers.
The overall impression of Telinum is one of striking contrasts—bitter yet sweet, herbal yet floral, rich yet fresh. The perfume evokes the image of an ancient, sunlit garden where herbs and flowers grow wild, with the warm, sweet notes of honey and marjoram infusing the air. It feels sophisticated yet earthy, regal yet earthy, with a sense of history woven through each note. The bitterness of fenugreek and omphacium gives the fragrance a raw, natural edge, while the sweetness of honey and rose hips adds a smooth, golden warmth. It is a fragrance that is both comforting and intriguing, with its layers of complexity offering something new with each wear. Telinum speaks to both the practical and the luxurious, much like the men and women who would have worn it—grounded in nature yet touched by the opulence of the ancient world.
Other Ancient Egyptian Perfumes:
Aegyptium (The Egyptian):
Scent Profile for Aegyptium:
Mendesium (Mendesian)
When you first encounter Aegyptium—an ancient Egyptian perfume of revered distinction—you are immediately transported to a warm, sun-dappled oasis, where the sweet, floral notes of orange blossoms gently greet your senses. The scent of orange blossoms is light, uplifting, and incredibly delicate, offering a sweet, almost honeyed floral aroma with a fresh, citrusy brightness that feels like a breath of air infused with sunlight. This radiant note instantly sets a tone of purity and elegance, evoking images of royal gardens and the luxurious beauty rituals of the Pharaohs.
As the perfume unfurls, a deeper layer emerges. Cinnamon wraps around the floral sweetness, its warm, spicy fragrance adding a touch of heat and complexity. The cinnamon is not overpowering but subtly enhances the composition with its sweet-spicy aroma, evoking the rich warmth of ancient spice markets. This note has a lively, comforting warmth that dances beneath the delicate orange blossoms, intertwining with them like a gentle breeze through a perfumed garden. The warmth of cinnamon makes the fragrance feel inviting and enveloping, as though the perfume were made to embrace the wearer with its spicy, sensual allure.
Henna enters next, adding a unique, earthy, and slightly floral dimension to the perfume. The scent of henna is rich, herbal, and slightly green, with a mild, powdery sweetness that gives the fragrance a grounded, natural feeling. The henna seems to soften the brightness of the citrus and cinnamon, creating an intricate balance that feels organic and full of life. Its subtle bitterness adds an edge to the sweetness, creating depth and complexity, and anchoring the perfume in a way that makes it feel more substantial and earthy.
At the heart of Aegyptium is honey, which provides a smooth, golden sweetness that weaves seamlessly through the fragrance. The honey is not overly sticky or cloying but instead adds a rich, syrupy warmth that blends effortlessly with the other ingredients. Its soft, creamy texture lingers, creating a sense of luxurious depth that feels rich yet not overpowering. Honey brings an almost divine quality to the perfume, like a precious nectar harvested from the gardens of the gods, heightening the overall elegance and opulence of the fragrance.
As the fragrance develops further, myrrh brings a grounding, resinous complexity to the composition. The myrrh is warm and slightly smoky, with a balsamic, incense-like quality that adds a sense of depth and reverence to the perfume. It imparts a sacred, almost mystical aura, as though this fragrance were not merely a cosmetic but a ritualistic offering. The myrrh’s dark, resinous depth contrasts beautifully with the bright, sweet citrus and floral notes, giving the perfume a well-rounded, almost meditative quality. It evokes the scent of sacred oils burned in temples or the incense wafting through the air during royal ceremonies.
The base of the perfume, almond oil, serves as the perfect foundation, creating a smooth, creamy texture that holds all the notes together. Almond oil is subtly sweet and nutty, with a soft, slightly milky aroma that adds a gentle richness to the perfume. It provides a delicate veil for the other ingredients, ensuring that the fragrance remains harmonious and luxurious without becoming too intense. The almond oil also adds a silky smoothness to the perfume’s texture, making it feel like a divine potion anointed onto the skin.
Finally, the perfume is steeped in glykos wine, which adds a faintly sweet, fermented fruitiness that enhances the overall richness of the fragrance. The wine note is not overpowering but adds an elegant, sophisticated finish, as if the perfume were crafted with the finest ingredients, steeped in the most luxurious elixir. This note gives Aegyptium a refined complexity, enhancing the natural sweetness and giving the fragrance a subtle effervescence—an ancient celebration captured in a bottle.
The overall impression of Aegyptium is one of balance and luxury. The perfume feels radiant and fresh at first, thanks to the bright orange blossom and cinnamon, but it quickly deepens into something richer and more mysterious as the henna, honey, and myrrh come forward. The fragrance is sweet, but never overly so—its complexity is in the interplay between the honey’s warmth, the cinnamon’s spice, the floral sweetness, and the grounding, resinous myrrh. It is a perfume of refinement and elegance, designed for anointing the hands and feet of those in the highest echelons of Egyptian society. Each note speaks of a civilization that revered beauty and luxury, creating a fragrance that is timeless and divine, both delicate and powerful in its ability to captivate the senses. Aegyptium would have been a true masterpiece, reserved for those who sought the very finest in life.
Mendesium was a Egypto-Roman perfume compounded in Egypt made up of galbanum, pine resin, lentisk, myrtle oil, cypress, myrrh, cassia, cinnamon, cardamom in balanos (ben) oil. The Mendesian perfume was known throughout the world as "the Egyptian perfume" and was considered by many to be the very best. Cleopatra was reported to have used the oil on her feet. Mendesian perfume was initially made from balanos oil, but beginning in Ptolemaic times, bitter almond oil became the norm along with the addition of omphacium, sweet rush, honey, wine and turpentine resin.
Scent Profile for Mendesium:
The Mendesian (also known as Mendesium) evokes the grandeur of the ancient Egyptian and Roman worlds, conjuring a vision of an ancient court—where opulence, history, and rituals intersect in an ethereal blend of nature's most fragrant elements. As you inhale the perfume, the first impression is an immediate, powerful green resinous opening, dominated by the galbanum. The galbanum is sharply aromatic, with a green, slightly piney scent that feels almost medicinal. It has an intensely fresh, crisp quality, like the scent of wild, unspoiled nature, with a faintly bitter, herbaceous tang that lingers in the air. This note anchors the fragrance in nature's untamed beauty, evoking the scent of an ancient temple or the outdoor rituals performed in sacred groves.
As the fragrance deepens, the pine resin introduces its bold, sap-like richness. The pine resin is both sweet and balsamic, carrying the scent of freshly cut wood and the cool, invigorating aroma of a forest after rain. Its robust, resinous character brings weight to the perfume, adding a sense of mystery and depth. The lentisk, a shrub with aromatic leaves and resins, contributes a slightly peppery, balsamic fragrance, enhancing the pine's richness with a hint of resinous warmth. Together with the galbanum, they form the foundation of the Mendesian perfume, creating an atmosphere that is both earthy and woody, yet still fresh and enlivening.
Myrtle oil brings a refreshing, herbaceous floral note to the fragrance—a soft green, slightly camphorous element that adds a bright, crisp quality to the otherwise resinous, balsamic composition. The myrtle's fragrance is clean and invigorating, with a touch of sweet floralcy that weaves through the more dominant, earthy notes. This interplay of floral and green tones adds a layer of complexity to the perfume, lightening the otherwise heavy, woody foundation.
As the heart of the perfume begins to unfold, the presence of cypress emerges. This evergreen tree's sharp, woody scent brings to mind the fresh, invigorating atmosphere of a pine forest. It contributes an almost metallic edge, with an invigorating bitterness that gives the perfume a structured, masculine feel. The cypress and myrrh blend seamlessly, the myrrh offering a dark, resinous undertone that gives the composition an almost sacred, meditative quality. Myrrh is rich and balsamic, with hints of smoke and a dry, woody bitterness that deepens the overall scent profile.
The cassia and cinnamon add warmth and spice to the perfume’s heart. The cinnamon’s sweet, fiery richness mingles with the sharpness of cassia, creating a dynamic contrast between the spicy warmth and the cooler, resinous notes. The combination of cinnamon and cassia imparts a sense of ancient warmth, like the burning of sacred incense during royal ceremonies. These spices give the Mendesian perfume a tactile, almost tangible presence that lingers on the skin, as though the fragrance is alive with the energy of the ancient world.
Cardamom further enhances this spicy blend with its bright, aromatic, and slightly sweet scent. It brings a layer of refinement to the composition, smoothing the sharpness of cinnamon and cassia with its warm, lightly floral undertone. The cardamom note is lively and uplifting, bringing an energetic brightness to the fragrance that makes it feel more fluid and graceful.
The perfume's base is grounded in balanos oil (later replaced by bitter almond oil in Ptolemaic times), which imparts a rich, nutty sweetness. The balanos oil provides the fragrance with a soft, smooth texture that cushions the resinous and spicy notes. Its creamy, slightly fatty quality envelops the other ingredients in a silky veil, lending the perfume a luxurious, almost tactile presence. The bitter almond oil that followed deepens the sweetness, adding a subtle, almost marzipan-like aroma that balances the sharper herbal and resinous elements.
The addition of omphacium (unripe olive oil) and sweet rush adds a faint green bitterness and a delicate floral note, respectively. The omphacium brings a cool, grassy freshness to the composition, enhancing the overall lightness and giving it a natural, unpolished feel. The sweet rush, with its faintly sweet, aquatic undertones, lightens the fragrance further, weaving a subtle freshness through the heavier, resinous components.
The honey in Mendesium adds a warm, golden sweetness, its thick, nectar-like fragrance binding the other notes together in harmony. It softens the sharpness of the green, resinous, and spicy elements, creating a luscious, smooth texture that is both sweet and calming. The wine adds depth, lending the perfume an element of richness and complexity that hints at its sacred or ritualistic purpose—possibly as an anointing oil for Cleopatra’s feet, as legend has it.
Finally, the turpentine resin imparts a sharp, pine-like bitterness that sharpens the fragrance, adding an aromatic pungency that lingers on the skin. Its crisp, fresh bitterness balances the sweet honey and almond oils, creating a sense of clarity and balance.
The Mendesian perfume is a deeply complex, earthy fragrance, rich with the scent of the natural world and the warmth of the ancient Egyptian and Roman civilizations. Its powerful resinous opening, dominated by galbanum and pine resin, gives way to a delicate interplay of floral, spicy, and balsamic notes. The myrtle oil and cypress offer bright green accents, while the myrrh, cassia, and cinnamon create a warm, almost sacred heart. The balanos oil (or later bitter almond oil) adds smoothness and richness to the perfume, giving it a luxurious finish. Each note serves to anchor the fragrance in both the earthy and divine, evoking images of royal anointings, fragrant incense wafting through the air, and sacred rituals that transcend time.
The Mendesian perfume, with its harmonious blend of natural ingredients, is both powerful and refined—a true masterpiece of ancient perfumery that would have been worn with reverence and grace, fitting for royalty like Cleopatra herself. It’s a fragrance that speaks to the ancient world’s reverence for nature’s bounty and their mastery of scent as an art form.
Psagdi:
Psagdi unguent of Egypt, also the name for an Egyptian incense that was made from pulverized spices — especially cinnamon and henna leaves, mixed with the perfume cyprinum- into pastilles called psagdi. Psagdi was greatly prized and known outside the country.
Scent Profile for Psagdi:
Psagdi, an exquisite and highly prized Egyptian unguent, is a fragrance that would have resonated with the rich, earthy, and spicy aromas of the ancient world. Upon first inhaling, the perfume greets the senses with a vibrant, spicy warmth—the unmistakable, almost fiery scent of cinnamon. This potent spice swirls in the air with its sweet, sharp warmth, reminiscent of ancient marketplaces filled with aromatic wares and the glow of incense-burning altars. The cinnamon introduces a rich, spicy heat, a scent that envelops the wearer with its comforting yet invigorating quality, like a welcoming embrace from another era.
As the fragrance settles, the herbal, slightly bitter note of henna leaves emerges. This plant-based ingredient, often associated with ritualistic use, adds a green, earthy nuance to the unguent. The henna provides a rich, slightly woody undertone, which, when combined with the warmth of cinnamon, creates a balance between the herbal and the spicy—giving the fragrance a layered, textured feel. There is a subtle, almost smoky quality to the henna, as though the very air of Egypt’s deserts has permeated the unguent. This fragrance evokes the sensation of the dry, warm breeze of the Nile region, carrying the scent of sun-soaked earth and plants.
The heart of Psagdi is defined by the presence of Cyprinum, a perfume in itself, which is composed of multiple ingredients, including honey, myrrh, cinnamon, rosewood, and sweet flag. These ingredients enhance the initial spicy warmth of cinnamon with their own layers of complexity. The honey infuses the composition with a soft, golden sweetness, its smooth, almost syrupy richness balancing the more piquant elements. This sweetness seems to warm the fragrance, evoking the image of delicate bees buzzing amidst fields of fragrant flowers, their honey dripping from combs to create an essence of luxurious indulgence.
As the scent deepens, the myrrh contributes a darker, more resinous note—smoky, rich, and slightly medicinal. Myrrh’s bitter and smoky facets anchor the fragrance, imparting a sense of ancient mystery and sacredness. This resin has been used in temples and rituals for thousands of years, and its presence in Psagdi adds an almost ethereal quality, as though the fragrance was prepared for a divine or royal occasion. The myrrh contrasts with the sweeter, more herbal notes, adding a layer of gravity and reverence to the composition.
The addition of sweet flag, also known as calamus, introduces a cool, green nuance—a delicate, crisp contrast to the richer notes of cinnamon and myrrh. Calamus brings a sharp, slightly floral freshness to the fragrance, lifting it with an invigorating clarity. This addition to Psagdi evokes the image of the Nile’s lush banks, where fragrant reeds grow amidst the bright Egyptian sun, adding a touch of nature’s untouched purity.
The composition as a whole is made more complex and alluring by the fragrance’s rich, powdery undertones, which likely arose from the mix of spices and resins pulverized into pastilles. These pastilles, called psagdi, would have slowly released their fragrance into the air, softening the more intense spicy and herbal notes and creating a lingering aura of fragrance. The resulting aroma would have been both intense and refined, a mix of spicy warmth, sweet herbal undertones, and earthy, resinous depth.
In addition to the pastilles' fragrance, the perfumed unguent of Psagdi would have been luxurious and smooth, with an oily, rich texture that carried the fragrance on the skin throughout the day. The almond oil or base oil used in the unguent would lend a creamy, slightly nutty undertone that envelops the wearer in warmth and silkiness, like the caress of an ancient ritualistic perfume.
Psagdi is a fragrance with depth and complexity, its scent unfolding slowly over time. The initial warm, spicy rush of cinnamon gives way to the earthy, herbal tones of henna, which are then enriched by the luxurious, golden sweetness of honey and the sacred, resinous depth of myrrh. The unguent’s composition mirrors the essence of ancient Egypt—warmth, mystery, and divine presence, a fragrance that would have resonated with the nobility and those in service to the gods. The sweet flag and cypress bring a fresh, green aspect to the composition, lifting it from being purely sweet and resinous to something that feels more vibrant and alive.
The presence of Cyprinum and its accompanying ingredients also tie the perfume to the greater legacy of Egyptian perfumery. As Psagdi was composed of spices mixed with Cyprinum and crafted into fragrant pastilles, its aroma would have been both potent and enduring. The scent would have lingered in the air long after the initial application, leaving a trail of spicy, sweet, and resinous notes that evoked the beauty, warmth, and ritualistic grandeur of ancient Egypt.
Worn on the skin or burnt as incense, Psagdi would have left an indelible impression, its complex, spicy-sweet scent wrapping around the wearer like a layer of history, invoking images of royal temples, sacred rites, and the immortal beauty of the Egyptian civilization.
- Qam'ey ointment
Irinum:
Scent Profile for Irinum:
The ancient Egyptian perfume Irinum is a fragrance both refined and rooted in an extraordinary process of patience and craftsmanship. Comprised of balanos oil, palm tops, wine, and orris root, this perfume would have been an intoxicating blend of lush, earthy, and floral notes—evoking the sense of ancient rituals and divine indulgence.
Upon first inhaling Irinum, the fragrance would be velvety and soft, with a delicate yet rich floral heart emerging from the depths. The orris root, prized for its beauty and complexity, would be the most prominent feature. The aroma of the root would be powdery, elegant, and slightly woody, with a faint resemblance to violets but with a more refined, earthy edge. The dry, mature root gives off a scent that is at once powdery and sweet, invoking a sense of ancient sophistication. The orris root has a subtle, root-like depth, akin to the scent of iris blossoms growing wild along the banks of the Nile. It carries a cool, almost metallic edge at times, giving it an ethereal, otherworldly quality. This note is not overwhelming but rather graceful—a whisper of nature’s finest floral essence, matured and perfected through a careful process that takes decades.
Alongside the orris root, the perfume’s balanos oil, often derived from the oil of the carob tree, would lend a creamy, nutty richness to the fragrance. The balanos oil would enhance the perfume with a warm, soft texture, enveloping the floral aspects in a round, smooth veil. The slightly sweet, woody undertones of this oil would meld with the iris, anchoring the perfume in something earthier and deeper—like the scent of warm earth beneath the trees or the richness of ancient woodlands.
The inclusion of palm tops brings a green, slightly resinous element to the perfume, contributing a fresh, vegetal note that contrasts with the powdery, floral facets of the iris. This note evokes the image of lush palm groves swaying in the hot Egyptian sun, with the fragrance of fresh, green leaves blending with the warm desert air. The palms' essence would be light yet grounding, providing a balance to the more refined floral and smooth oil components. The slightly sweet, herbaceous quality of the palm would give the perfume an almost green-gold warmth, like the fragrance of nature’s bounty at the peak of summer.
Wine, as an ingredient, adds yet another layer to the scent profile, bringing a subtle fermented sweetness that suggests ripened fruits and the luxurious, intoxicating atmosphere of ancient Egyptian feasts. The wine note would not be sharp or overpowering, but rather soft and mellow, hinting at the sacred rituals where perfumes were offered to the gods. The wine would deepen the perfume, rounding out its floral notes with a faint grape-like sweetness and a delicate fermentation aroma that gives the perfume a sense of age and wisdom, much like the perfume itself, which matured for twenty years.
As Irinum settles, the perfume would evolve into a more complex and subtle balance of ingredients. The orris root would continue to dominate, but now it is softened by the nourishing smoothness of the balanos oil and the earthy green freshness of the palm tops. The underlying scent would feel almost resinous—not in the sharp, sticky way of pine or frankincense—but with a gentle, sweet resinous quality that suggests the slow, natural transformation of the ingredients over time.
The final experience of Irinum would be one of profound elegance and patience, a fragrance that has evolved over time, much like the ancient world itself. It’s a perfume that exudes the aura of mystery and antiquity, offering a floral delicacy that is enhanced by the warmth of oils and the complexity of fermented wine. The Irinum scent would be unlike anything familiar to modern noses—it would feel ancient, as though it holds within it the wisdom and rituals of millennia, encapsulating the very essence of Egyptian nobility and spirituality.
The fragrance would be subtle yet profound, a perfect balance between the soft floral powderiness of the iris and the earthy, warm richness of the oils and wine. It would remind the wearer of the mystical power of nature, where the roots of the iris flower bloom in harmony with the ancient palm groves, and where wine and oil have been carefully crafted into sacred elixirs. The perfume of Irinum would not demand attention but would instead gently envelop the senses, leaving a trail of quiet, luxurious elegance—fit for the gods of Egypt themselves.
Sampsuchinum (Amaracinum):
Scent Profile for Sampsuchinum:
Sampsuchinum (also known as Amaracinum) was a revered perfume in ancient Egypt, likely composed with the intention of being both healing and uplifting—a fragrance that would bring clarity and comfort, as well as evoke the mystical, spiritual atmosphere of the ancient world. With a blend of herbal, spicy, and resinous ingredients, this perfume would have been both invigorating and soothing, with layers of warmth, freshness, and earthiness emerging over time.
At first inhale, the perfume would be immediately herbal and green with a striking freshness, thanks to the presence of green olive oil and mint flowers. The olive oil would provide a soft, rich foundation, creating a smooth base that serves to carry the more volatile top notes. The mint flowers would lend a cool, uplifting, almost crisp quality to the perfume, evoking the sensation of a gentle breeze on a warm Egyptian evening. This freshness would then meld into a lightly medicinal but comforting note from the inclusion of bergamot and sweet marjoram. The bergamot would offer a slightly citrusy yet floral edge—fresh, with just a hint of bitterness—that complements the more gentle, soothing qualities of marjoram, which has a calming, spicy sweetness. This herbal combination creates an immediate sense of clarity and refreshment.
As the fragrance unfolds, the spicy and woody notes would begin to emerge, with ingredients such as cinnamon, ginger, cassia, and cardamom adding warmth and depth. The cinnamon and cassia would bring a deep, sweet spiciness—rich and familiar, but with an edge of heat and intensity that would evoke the sun-drenched landscape of ancient Egypt. The ginger would add a sharp, fiery kick, which might prick the senses with its spicy warmth, while cardamom would infuse the perfume with its subtle, sweet-spicy complexity, offering a hint of sugar-coated warmth. Together, these spices would give the perfume a vibrant, energetic quality, suggesting a dynamic, invigorating experience—perhaps for someone embarking on a journey or preparing for an important ritual.
At the heart of the fragrance lies a combination of myrrh and costus, which would introduce a rich, resinous warmth. The myrrh would bring an earthy, balsamic depth, with a slightly smoky undertone that recalls ancient incense burned in sacred temples. This would blend seamlessly with the costus, a rare and exotic ingredient, which would imbue the perfume with a sweet, leathery note, almost reminiscent of old books or well-worn leather, adding a touch of complexity and gravitas to the fragrance.
Simultaneously, there would be an earthy, root-like undertone brought by the inclusion of sweet flag (a type of iris) and camel grass. These ingredients would evoke the deep, damp scent of the Nile Delta, the earth beneath the feet of the Egyptians, and the fresh, vegetal fragrance of tall grasses swaying in the wind. The sweet flag would have a rooty, spicy character, combining with the dry, hay-like quality of camel grass to create an aura of natural, rustic richness. This would form the solid foundation for the perfume, supporting the more spicy, floral, and resinous layers above.
Meanwhile, balm of Gilead, renowned for its sweet, almost vanilla-like fragrance, would add an additional softness, balancing out the sharper, spicier notes. The honey in the formula would contribute a warm, golden sweetness that flows through the perfume like liquid sunshine, giving it a sense of comfort and luxury. This honeyed sweetness, however, would not be overpowering, but rather would add depth and roundness to the perfume's overall composition, enhancing the herbal, spicy, and resinous elements without obscuring them.
The presence of thyme, all-heal, and myrtle leaves would create a final herbal undertone—a warm, slightly resinous, medicinal character that would envelop the wearer in a cloud of healing and protective energy. Thyme, with its earthy, slightly peppery scent, would add a layer of complexity, while all-heal (a plant used in ancient medicine) would evoke a sense of wholeness and restorative strength. The myrtle leaves would bring an additional green, slightly floral note to the composition, merging with the other herbal elements to create an overall effect of natural purity.
In its entirety, Sampsuchinum (or Amaracinum) would smell like a complex tapestry of herbs, spices, and resins, each element carefully balanced to produce a scent that is both uplifting and comforting, vibrant yet earthy. The perfume would carry the essence of the Nile’s fertile banks, sunlit herb gardens, and sacred rituals. The spicy, floral, and resinous components would blend seamlessly to create a fragrance that feels ancient and mystical, evoking a sense of timeless beauty and ritualistic significance.
This perfume, once applied, would leave a soft, lingering trail of warmth and vitality—a scent that would invoke feelings of comfort and invigoration in equal measure. It would be a perfume not just for the body, but for the spirit, designed to soothe, protect, and empower the wearer, much like the sacred rituals of ancient Egypt itself.
Cinnamominum contained balanos oil, cinnamon, balsam of gilead seeds, myrrh, sweet flag, camel grass, fragrant honey.
Scent Profile for Cinnamominum:
Cinnamominum was a perfume composed of rich, resinous, and spicy notes, combining earthy richness with warm, sweet spice. With its blend of balanos oil, cinnamon, balsam of Gilead seeds, myrrh, sweet flag, camel grass, and fragrant honey, this perfume would have been both invigorating and comforting, a perfect balance of warmth and earthiness—qualities that reflected the heart of ancient Egypt itself.
At first contact, Cinnamominum would present itself as a richly spiced perfume, its dominant note being cinnamon. This would infuse the fragrance with a warm, spicy intensity, its sweet, sharp aroma evoking a sense of heat and vitality, like the intense rays of the desert sun. The cinnamon would be deep and resonant, not sharp and fleeting, but rather lingering and rich, almost like the scent of cinnamon bark freshly ground or simmered in warm wine. Its slightly sweet and woody nature would blend harmoniously with the earthy, almost smoky undertones of myrrh, which would add a balsamic, resinous character to the scent. The myrrh would not dominate but instead provide a balancing depth and earthiness, creating a smooth, resinous warmth beneath the bright spice.
The addition of balsam of Gilead seeds would impart a sweet, fruity undertone, reminiscent of vanilla or apricot, while still maintaining a subtle, resinous warmth. This ingredient would add an additional layer of complexity to the fragrance, acting as a softening balm to the sharper, more piquant notes of cinnamon and myrrh. The sweet flag would contribute its own slightly floral, rooty edge to the fragrance, introducing a note of fresh, green depth to the perfume—a cool contrast to the spicy warmth of cinnamon and the resinous warmth of myrrh.
As the scent continues to evolve, the balanos oil (a type of olive oil) would ground the perfume with its smooth, slightly nutty texture, acting as a base that carries all the other ingredients while imparting its own soft, herbal richness. The balanos oil would add a velvety quality to the scent, allowing the other spices and resins to mingle without overpowering one another, while also offering an air of luxury and softness. This would create a rich, full-bodied experience as the perfume melds with the skin, giving it a slightly oily, smooth finish that lingers gently.
The addition of camel grass, with its dry, hay-like quality, would infuse the perfume with a soft, grassy and somewhat earthy scent, evoking the vast, sun-scorched plains of Egypt. This note would be subtle yet grounding, adding to the perfume’s overall sense of balance and connection to nature. The sweetness of honey would round out the composition, bringing in a note of golden warmth and smooth sweetness. The honey’s rich, slightly fruity, and sugary fragrance would work in tandem with the balsamic sweetness of the balsam and the resinous nature of the myrrh to create a perfume that is at once luxurious, comforting, and inviting.
In its totality, Cinnamominum would evoke the essence of ancient Egypt—spicy, warm, and earthy, yet with a depth of sweetness and luxury that lingers on the skin. The initial burst of cinnamon would strike with warmth and intensity, only to be softened by the resinous depth of myrrh and the sweet, earthy qualities of balsam of Gilead and camel grass. The honey would smooth the sharpness, lending an inviting sweetness that is both natural and opulent, while the balanos oil would bind it all together, leaving a soft, velvety trail on the skin.
This fragrance would likely have been worn in moments of reflection or ritual, evoking the intensity of Egyptian sunrises and the comfort of an ancient palace filled with resins and spices. It would carry the wearer on a journey through a desert landscape, its warm spices and sweet, herbal depth evoking feelings of strength and comfort, the perfume of an ancient, royal world that has lived on in scent and memory for millennia.
Megalium (Megalion, Megallus):
Scent Profile for Megalion:
Megalion was a perfume whose complexity and richness were reflected in both its elaborate composition and the meticulous process required for its creation. With its blend of balm of Gilead, rush, reed, cassia, resin, balanos oil, calamus, spikenard, burnt resin, cinnamon, myrrh, sweet flag, camel grass, costus, cardamom, and tinted pink with alkanet, it was a fragrance of luxury, mystery, and ancient power. Its creation was a labor-intensive process, with balanos oil requiring a long, careful boiling to remove impurities, which imbued the perfume with a purity and depth of character, setting the stage for a fragrance like no other.
Upon the first impression, Megalion would unfold as an intensely rich and resinous perfume, beginning with the smoky and woody notes of burnt resin (likely pine). This opening would be heavy, almost charred, giving the fragrance an initial depth of heat and earthiness. There would be a noticeable woodsy smokiness, evoking the image of resinous trees smoldering under a warm desert sun. The cinnamon and myrrh would soon rise to meet this initial impression, adding a spicy warmth that is both sweet and balsamic, intensifying the overall fragrance and introducing a balmy sweetness that counters the smoky opening. The cinnamon, rich and pungent, would combine with the resinous myrrh to create a deep, warming base, reminiscent of an ancient temple incense, grounded with the earthy qualities of the burnt wood.
As the perfume settles, the presence of balanos oil—the key base oil in Megalion—would come into focus, adding a soft, smooth, and slightly nutty richness. This quality would serve as the foundation of the scent, allowing the more intense notes of resin and spice to linger without becoming overpowering, while also providing a velvety texture to the overall fragrance. The balanos oil would smooth the otherwise intense spiciness and smokiness of the perfume, carrying the other ingredients without overshadowing them. This smoothness would also be complemented by the addition of sweet flag and calamus, which would introduce a faintly floral and herbaceous undertone, cutting through the resin and spice with a touch of green freshness.
The herbal and spicy notes of costus, cassia, and cardamom would introduce complex layers of warmth and bitterness. Costus would bring a slightly musky, animalic richness that would deepen the fragrance, enhancing the earthy and spicy nuances of the cassia and cardamom, while cassia would add its own warm, slightly citrusy sweetness to balance the overall composition. The cardamom would provide a sharp, yet sweetly spicy note, almost cooling, and adding an aromatic green aspect to the scent.
In the heart of the perfume, the spikenard would emerge as a deeply earthy, woody, and slightly sweet note, bringing a rich, balsamic undertone that would blend seamlessly with the warmth of the cinnamon and the resins. Spikenard, with its soft, sweet essence, would combine with the sweet flag, offering a gentle floral lift that would balance out the otherwise heavy and smoky profile. The addition of rush and reed would infuse a faint grassy, green quality, reminiscent of a cooling breeze through the fields of Alexandria, bringing a touch of freshness to the fragrance and lifting the intensity of the deeper, heavier notes.
Finally, the delicate pink tint from alkanet would not only give Megalion its signature color but also add a subtle undertone of earthy sweetness, a touch of fruitiness that would linger in the background. This would provide a slightly floral finish, rounding out the woody and spicy elements and giving the perfume an air of refinement and elegance.
Megalion would be a fragrance of contrasts: smoky, spicy, resinous, and sweet, with earthy and herbal undertones. It would start with a rich and smoky warmth, driven by the burnt resin and cinnamon, and gradually soften to reveal deeper layers of balsamic richness from myrrh and costus, with touches of sweetness and greenery from spikenard, calamus, and rush. The smooth and velvety texture of the balanos oil would provide a luxurious base, allowing the complex blend of spices and herbs to settle into the skin and leave a long-lasting trail.
This fragrance would evoke the mystique of ancient Egypt, combining the scent of temple incense, the spiciness of royal chambers, and the earthy warmth of the Nile valley. It would have been worn by those who sought the finest luxury, power, and prestige, much like Cleopatra herself, for whom Megalion might have been the perfect perfume—opulent, intense, and intricately layered, a scent that commanded attention and respect.
Iasmelaion:
In Greek, jasmine had a symbolic association with luxury, romance, and divinity, which would have made Iasmelaion a perfume of choice for those seeking elegance, sensuality, and opulence. The fragrance would have been prized not only for its beauty and complexity but also for its connection to divine and sensual pleasures, making it highly sought after in both Rome and Egypt.
Scent Profile for Iasmelaion:
Iasmelaion, a fragrance beloved in both ancient Rome and Egypt, would have been a luxurious, sweet, and spicy blend, capturing the opulence and complexity of two ancient cultures. Composed primarily of jasmine grandiflorum, cardamom, cinnamon, saffron, myrrh, turmeric, and honey in sesame oil, the perfume would unfold in layers of floral, spicy, and rich, resinous notes.
The first impression would be a striking floral and sweet fragrance dominated by the intoxicating scent of jasmine grandiflorum. Known for its heady, richly sweet, and slightly indolic nature, jasmine would take center stage, creating an overwhelming sense of luxury and sensuality. The jasmine would not be light or delicate, but rather deep, dense, and full-bodied, giving the perfume a lush, almost heady character. It would have the familiar nectarous sweetness of fresh jasmine blossoms, with just a hint of a musky undertone, suggesting both romantic allure and elegance.
As the perfume develops, the warmth of cardamom and cinnamon would emerge, infusing the fragrance with a spicy, aromatic warmth. The cardamom would add a slightly sharp, citrusy freshness, lending an exotic, aromatic quality that contrasts with the rich sweetness of the jasmine. The cinnamon would bring its signature warmth and spice, enhancing the perfume’s complexity with a sweet yet peppery heat that would feel both comforting and inviting. These spices, along with the addition of saffron, would lend the perfume an almost gourmand quality, particularly as the saffron’s subtle, earthy, leathery nuances combine with the sweetness of the jasmine and honey.
In the deeper layers, the myrrh and turmeric would provide the fragrance with a resinous richness and a faint earthy bitterness. The myrrh would be warm, balsamic, and slightly smoky, offering a smooth, sophisticated depth that enhances the perfume’s more spicy and floral elements. The turmeric, with its slightly woody, earthy, and aromatic qualities, would add a bitterness that creates a balancing contrast against the rich sweetness of jasmine and honey, while also contributing a touch of warmth and spiciness.
The honey, suspended in sesame oil, would provide an important smooth, sweet base, softening the intense spices and resins and adding a touch of luxury and creaminess to the perfume. The sesame oil itself would contribute a gentle, nutty richness, giving the perfume a soft, silky texture that feels velvety on the skin. The combination of honey and sesame oil would also serve to enhance the sweetness of the jasmine, making the overall fragrance feel round and full, like a comforting embrace of nature’s finest scents.
Iasmelaion would have been an incredibly complex and intoxicating fragrance. It would begin with the lush floral sweetness of jasmine, unfolding into spicy, aromatic warmth from the cardamom and cinnamon, complemented by the earthy richness of myrrh and turmeric, and rounded out with the sweetness of honey and smoothness of sesame oil. The perfume would evoke luxury, sensuality, and richness, offering a heady, elegant experience. It would be a perfume suited for royalty or high-status individuals, ideal for those seeking to make a statement of refinement, elegance, and sophistication.
In essence, Iasmelaion would be a fragrance of exotic luxury, where the complexity of floral, spicy, and resinous notes converge to create an experience that feels both timeless and opulent—a scent that transported those who wore it to an ancient world of romance, divinity, and refined indulgence.
Melinum:
The word "Melinum" is likely derived from the Greek language, where "meli" (μÎλι) means "honey" and "-num" could be a form of the word for "oil" or "ointment". While the connection to honey may not be immediately obvious in the ingredients (there is no honey in Melinum), the term may have originally alluded to a sweet, fruity perfume, or perhaps a sweet uncture for the skin, similar to how some other perfumes of the time were used. In a broader sense, the word could have referenced the pleasantness and luxury of the scent, even if it didn’t have honey as a direct ingredient. Melinum thus may be understood to mean "honey-scented oil" or "fruity oil", based on the prominence of the quince’s sweet aroma in the final product.
In essence, Melinum would have been a fragrance that combined the fresh, tart scent of quinces with the earthy, green richness of olive oil, elevated by the light depth of wine and the subtle sharpness of salt. Its aroma would have been fruity, tangy, and bracing, but also with a complex and herbaceous foundation that gave it depth and sophistication.
Scent Profile for Melinum:
Melinum, a perfume crafted with quinces, green olive oil, wine, and salt, would have been a delicate yet striking fragrance, marked by a fresh, fruity sweetness with a unique astringency and tangy depth. The method of its preparation, as described by Theophrastus, suggests a perfume that was both carefully controlled and complex in its balance of fruity, herbal, and slightly bitter qualities.
Upon first inhaling Melinum, the quinces would dominate the fragrance with their distinct, fruity aroma. Quinces, when fresh, possess a fragrance that is sharp and crisp, but also subtly sweet, with an almost citrusy tang that sets it apart from more common fruits like apples or pears. This scent would evoke the freshness of the fruit, paired with a faint bitterness that arises from the astringency Theophrastus described. The quince’s natural tang would be further heightened by the salt in the perfume, lending a mineral edge that could add a touch of bracing, almost metallic sharpness.
The base of the perfume, green olive oil, would give the fragrance a smooth, soft texture and an earthy depth. Olive oil has a rich, slightly bitter quality, which would serve as a grounding agent for the brighter, more fruity notes of the quinces. Its green, herbaceous character would weave through the perfume like a soft leafy note, adding an earthiness that balances out the sharp, tangy opening.
Wine, added to the mixture, would provide a fermented depth to the perfume. The scent of wine, depending on the type used, could range from a light, fruity wine with grape-like sweetness to something more rich and complex, with slight oak or spiced undertones. The wine would enhance the overall roundness of the fragrance, adding a slightly fermented, warm element to the otherwise crisp and tangy notes of the quince.
Together, the quinces and olive oil, combined with the wine, would create a perfume that feels bright and refreshing but with a sharpness and depth that make it more complex than a simple fruity scent. The salt would heighten this effect, adding an extra layer of complexity, and making the perfume feel clean and almost mineral, reminiscent of the air near the sea or fresh rain.
The perfume would likely have felt refreshing, yet earthy, evoking an ancient, almost pastoral sense of nature—like a fragrant orchard ripe for harvest, with the scent of fruit mingling with the greenery of the land. There would be a contrast between the tartness of the fruit, the smoothness of the oil, and the subtle bitterness of the salt, making it a fragrance that felt complex, grounded, and elegant. This delicate balance would have made it a favored scent for those seeking something refined and light, yet distinctive, in the ancient world.
- The Phoenician (bitter almonds and balsam)
- The Sidonian (malobathrum)
- Panathenaicum made at Athens
Simple oils:
- Metopium: bitter almonds
- Narcissimum: narcissus
- Crocinum: saffron
- Rhodium: roses
- Melinum: quinces
- Regium
- Thurarium
- Malobathrum from Sidon
- Nardum
- Opobalsamum from Persia
- Amaracinum - sweet marjoram
- Erpyllos - thyme
- Sisymbrion - mint
- Phoenician - bitter almonds and balsam
Pliny the Elder wrote, “Perfumes serve the purpose of the most superfluous of all forms of luxury; for pearls and jewels do nevertheless pass to the wearer’s heir, and clothes last for some time, but ingredients lose their scent at once, and die in the very hour when they are used… All that money is paid for a pleasure enjoyed by someone else, for a person carrying scent about himself does not smell it himself.”
Not all ancient peoples were fond of dousing themselves with perfume. In 361 BCE, Ageilaus, king of Sparta, where perfume was banned, visited Egypt and was entertained at an elaborate banquet. He was so disgusted by the excessive use of perfume by his fellow diners - a practice that he thought decadent and effeminate - that he stormed out. Agesilaus's Egyptian hosts in turn found his behavior uncivilized and uncouth. By contrast, Athens had its own perfume market, where scent was sold in specially manufactured vases.
In Roman times perfume was used by all classes, mainly to cover body odors, but also - drunk neat or in wine - to conceal bad breath. Wealthy Romans would perfume various parts of their bodies with different scents, sprinkling perfume on their guests at banquets while they reclined on scented couches and even perfume the walls of their bathrooms.
Incense:
In Egypt the use of incense dates back to about 1500 BCE. During excavations, remains of incense and incense-burners of the period have been found. Incense performed the function of "pleasing the nostrils of the gods" by burning. The smoke was believed to honor and please the gods, and in return, the gods would grant them good fortune and luck.
Incense was burned at all important events, including the coronation of a new pharaoh, opening of a shrine, the annual flooding of the Nile, religious festivals, and other national celebrations. Incense was burned daily in the temple, and outdoors at dusk and dawn. The Ebers Papyrus includes descriptions of the use of aromatics of the use of aromatics for magical, mystical and healing experiences. For example, incense was used as a facilitator in exorcisms and healing the sick. It was also used ritually in the act of lovemaking.
Many plants and herbs have no natural fragrance but give off sweet smelling fumes when burnt.
Kyphi:
No list could be complete without the mention of Ancient Egypt's most famous scent: kyphi. The name kyphi is actually the Greek form of the ancient Egyptian original hieroglyphic pronunciation “kapet”.
The most celebrated perfume used by the Egyptians was Kyphi, for which several recipes have been discovered. Its fame was so great that it was adopted and used by the Greeks and the Romans. It is mentioned by Dioscorides, Plutarch, Damocrates, and Galen.
Dioscorides' first century pharmacopoeia, which drew on recipes and ingredients from the eastern Mediterranean, included some sixteen recipes for medicinal perfumes, including one for the compound incense kyphi.
Loret, who made a special study of it, states that the earliest recipe consists of the following substances, and it had to be prepared with great care: Acorus calamus, Andropogon, Schoenanthus, Pistacia lentiscus, Laurus cassia, Cinnamomum, Peppermint, Convolvulus scoparius, of each equal parts. These were dried, powdered, and well mixed. The same quantities of Juniperus phoenicea, Acacia farnesiana, Henna, and Cyperus longus were to be macerated in wine for a day. Raisins were then to be steeped in wine for five days and a mixture made of resin terebinth and honey. The ingredients were then to be incorporated and myrrh added, and finally the whole mixed together.
The recipe given by Plutarch contains sixteen ingredients, and includes honey, wine, cypress, raisins, myrrh, aspalathus, seselis, sthcenanthus, saffron, dock, juniper (greater and lesser), cardamoms, and aromatic reed. He remarks: “ Its aromatic substances lull to sleep, allay anxieties, and brighten the dreams. It is made of things that delight most in the night and exhibits its virtues
by night.”
Damocrates in his recipe includes bdellium, spikenard, crocus, and cassia.
As a whole, kyphi had often included the following ingredients: juniper, sweet flag, cardamom, myrrh, cassia, cinnamon, mastic, mint, henna, mimosa, saffron, bdellium, spikenard, bitumen, sorrel, honey, wine, raisins, cyperus, turpentine, aspalathus, calamus, rush. In a papyrus found in a pyramid at Cheops, mention is made of myrrh, calamus, juniper, and coriander. It was one of the many ingredients for Kyphi which was used for fumigations, and also in the process of embalming. Kyphi was not only used to give an agreeable perfume to the body and clothes, but was also burnt in the house to make it smell sweet, and employed as a medicine.
It is frequently mentioned in the Babylonian and Assyrian cuneiform tablets, and was employed, together with other aromatic substances, for fumigations and incense to exorcise the demons of disease from the body of a sick man.
This complex fragrance was sometimes combined with oils to make a perfume, and it was also drunk as a medicine for liver and lung ailments. Plutarch, the great Greek historian, said of Kyphi: "Its aromatic substances lull to sleep, allay anxieties, and brighten dreams."
No comments:
Post a Comment
All comments will be subject to approval by a moderator. Comments may fail to be approved if the moderator deems that they:
--contain unsolicited advertisements ("spam")
--are unrelated to the subject matter of the post or of subsequent approved comments
--contain personal attacks or abusive/gratuitously offensive language