Despite the Byzantine Orthodoxy that sought to minimize the Classical emphasis on grooming and beauty, citizens of the Eastern Roman Empire enjoyed primping. Certainly, the wealthy and noble women of the empire were concerned with their looks and Christianity cast no pall on the baths nor the sale of cosmetics and perfumes. Indeed, law in Constantinople decreed that the perfumers must set up their shops near the Great Palace so that the Emperor and his family might not have their olfactory senses assaulted by the common smells of the streets.
Furthermore, sweet-smelling scents was not merely the province of the elite. Because of the belief that health was made of a unique balance of humors, a sort of aromatherapy was engaged in which humors could be balanced by the smells of certain aromatic oils. Byzantine gardens, therefore, had areas set aside for aromatic flowers from which could be distilled some of the more fragrant oils.
Mirrors, tweezers and similar hygiene equipment would have been commonplace in a not only a Byzantine home, but a Varangian one as well. Numerous excavations have revealed hygiene implements from Viking-era graves including ear spoons, tweezers and dental cleaning tools.
To a certain degree my character Theophana is based on Basil II’s niece , the Empress Zoe, who was obsessed with beauty, even into her old age. In The Well of Urd, Theophana’s habits are described:
No longer young, she was still vain. She spent enough on costly unguents and cosmetics. She had royal jelly and saffron imported from Egypt at great expense to her husband. She also insisted on bathing once a month in wine, a habit he greatly detested. He did not know if it was the cosmetics or the way she had with those unearthly eyes, but men still managed to find her attractive and enthralling.
Michael Psellos wrote that Zoe turned her chambers into cosmetics laboratory in which she created cosmetics and ointments to preserve her beauty well into old age. Also in common with the fictional Theophana, Zoe was known for her numerous infidelities. Eventually, her husband, Romanos was drowned in his bath by assassins. Both historians John Skylitzes and Michael Psellos agree that Zoe was complicit in his death. Byzantine women did not use as heavy cosmetics as their earlier Roman counterparts. This was a good thing. A common cosmetic of Western Rome was white lead, used to make skin appear fashionably pale. It is also very toxic. For eye liner and darkening eye brows and lashes, kohl was very popular. Kohl was a dark-colored powder made of crushed antimony,(Stibnite. Unfortunately it is lead-derived and toxic) burnt almonds, lead, oxidized copper, ochre, ash, malachite and chrysocolla. Stibnite is initially gray, but turns black when it oxidizes. It was mixed into a fat base and applied with a rounded stick.
High born Byzantine women would keep their cosmetics in little jars called pyxides. These could be of pottery, glass or ivory, sometimes sumptuously carved as this example shows.
Resources:
Byzantine Empresses: Women and Power in Byzantium AD 527-1204 By Lynda Garland
Imperial Women in Byzantium 1025-1204: Power, Patronage and Ideology by Barbara Hill
Daily Life in the Byzantine Empire by Marcus Rautman
Poison! Just the word would cause a medieval citizen of Constantinople to cast a furtive glance into his or her cup. Almost all the poisons available to the people of the Middle Ages were derived from plants. Not all who were suspected of dying of poison, necessarily did so, but it is a testament to how common it was and much the danger was ever present on the mind of especially upper class Byzantines.
Of the ones we will talk about in this series, most notorious is Aconitum, among many other names also known as Monk’s Hood, Wolfsbane (for its reputation in poisoning wolves) and Queen of Poisons. It belongs to the family Ranunculaceae, including over 250 species. The Byzantines would have been very familiar with this deadly poison, dubbing it lykotonon — “wolf slaying”. Historically, Cleopatra VII of Egypt was said to have poisoned her brother Ptolemy XIV with aconite. In classical mythology, the sorceress Medea attempted to have king Aegeus unwittingly kill his own son, Theseus with a cup poisoned with aconite. It is said to have sprung from the spittle of Cerberus, famed three-headed dog of Greek myth. Even touching this deadly plant, especially the roots, can gain you an unpleasant death.
Dessert is an apt conclusion to the series on food. Desserts, including sweetmeats and honey cakes were eaten by the higher classes, including koptoplakous, the ancestor to baklava still eaten in Greece today. It would have certainly been on Theophana’s table: