Poudre d'Amour - Flesh coloured face powder from the 17th century

French noblewoman, possibly Louise de Kérouaille
by follower of Pierre Mignard, ca 1690

I have read several times that in the 17^th century not only white makeup was used in the face, but also flesh-coloured and I have always wondered what was in it. So imagine my delight when I found a recipe on Poudre d'Amour from the reign of Louis XIV.

The recipe

Scrape 6 juicy raw carrots and 1/2 a pink beet root, squeeze the juice out through a muslin bag and put it aside. Take 3 ounces of finely powdered cornstarch, mix it with the carrot and beet juice, expose it to the sun and stir occasionally until fluid evaporates, leaving the tinted starch dry. Sift through a piece of silk gauze and add:

Powdered Venetian talc-300 grains
Powdered lycopodium-300 grains
Powdered bergamot-45 grains
Powdered bismuth-7 grains.
Sift grain and keep in a sandalwood box

Breaking down the recipe
Carrot & Beet root Root vegetables that are bright orange and red.

Cornstarch- see Starch in the ingredients list at the top of the page

Venetian talc- see Talc in the ingredients list at the top of the page

Lycopodium powder The spores from club moss plants. It is very flammable and is today mainly used in explosives. It has several other uses, though, like stabilizing ice cream, finger print powder or lubricating dust on latex gloves. In Sweden it has historically been used on baby bottoms instead of talcum powder.

Bergamot A citrus fruit that is shaped as an orange, but yellow. Bergamot essence is used in the perfume industry and to give flavor to foodstuff. Powdered bergamot probably means the powdered peel, which is used in aromatherapy today.

Bismuth- See Bismuth the ingredients list at the top of the page

My thoughts
This face powder seems quite doable; almost all the ingredients are easily obtainable. The exception is Lycopodium powder which even if I can get my hands on it (questionable) is also quite expensive, apart from being flammable. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable putting that on my face. . I can imagine that it has a purpose in getting the right colour as it seems to have a pale yellow tint, but I think I might mix ochre pigment with corn starch to approximately the right colour and use that as substitute. I do wonder about the final colour of the powder. The carrot and beetroot must tint the starch a very vivid colour- orange-pink? But the Talcand Lycopodium powder  must temper that. The powdered Bergamot and Bismuth too and the latter must give the powder a bit of a shine. I highly doubt that the end result will look natural, though.

A must try, don’t you think?

Making real pearl powder

Seed pearls

Last year I started to make real pearl powder, but at the time I lived at our summerhouse for several weeks as the plumbing was renovated in our apartment, so I made it and then forgot about it. So, finally, here is the result.

I used real pearls, but the small and irregular kind that is called seed pearls. As that was the kind of pearls that apothecary's kept in the 18th century for medical purposes, it seems exceedingly likely that they were used to make pearl powder as well. Nowadays you find seed pearls in hobby stores and I bought the smallest amount possible for my experiment. I put them in a small bottle and poured enough vinegar on top of them to cover them. Here I made a mistake and took apple cider vinegar instead. Though I poured it away and took real vinegar, a slight discolouration remained.

Almost at once flakes of nacre could be seen floating around in the vinegar and the pearls noticeably shrunk over the next couple of days and the holes in them were enlarged and more and more nacre could be seen in the vinegar. Then it stopped, or so I thought. I poured in some more vinegar and nothing seemed to happen for a day or two and then I noticed that the pearls were floating in the vinegar! Upon examination I realised that the pearls were completely hollowed out and only a thin layer of nacre remained! When I pressed down on one it felt like it does when you press down on a boiled pea and I ended up with peal mush on my finger. So I poured everything in a mortle and mushed them all throughoutly, put it all in a bowl and let the vinegar evaporate.

As you can see it behaved quite funnily, climbing up on the walls on the bowl. Good thing, actually, because the discolouration emigrated to the top. Though it looked solid, the pearl powder was really very brittle, so I just broke off the discoloured parts. The surface was a bit shiny in a satiny way, but inside the peal powder was just white. This suprised me a bit as I had expected it to be pearlescent. After reducing it to a powder it became a somewhat satiny white, but I found that when I pressed down on it, pearlescent glints could be seen. It was very subtle and I couldn't manage to capture that on a photo.

At this point I had been able to obtain readymade pearl powder and upon testing I found that the one I had made was virtually impossible to tell apart from the one I had bought. A bit of a relief, actually, because the home made pearl powder is so full of vinegar that I would never put it on my face. I'm really pleased that it turned out to be possibly to make pearl powder yourself, but I won't be doing it again. The bought pearl powder is so close and much better to use (no vinegar) that I will stick to that.

Here you can see how alike the both pearl powders are. I mixed powder with an equal part of water and it turned into a semi-opaque whiteness. You can see the pearlescent glints at all. Alongside is Bismuth and it is very easy to see why the literature says that even if this was called pearl powder as well, it has a completely different look. It is much more shiny, but a lot less white. Almost impossible to see is a version of Nun's cream that I made with real pearl powder. The ratio here is one part powder to two parts pomade and it doesn't show up much at all. It is more visible in reality than on the photo, but it only whitens the skin slightly, though it evens out the skin very well. I think it is quite light-reflecting, even if the nacre isn't visible, it is still there.

The amount of whiteness a pigment leave on the skin is partly due to the pigment, but also on how much you use. Even after brushing my test areas with a powder brush, the pearl powder stayed on quite well, though it is not very opaque. In the future I need to test all my white pigments to see how they compare to each other, but here and now I can just say that I find it interesting that pearl powder, which was the most exclusive white pigment you could buy, doesn't leave a very opaque whiteness.

I still need to mix up pearl powder with liquid and try, but last week I had the opportunity to try the Nun's cream when I made up my friend Anna as part on the entertainment at a big party my 18th century society held. I was allowed to put my stuff on a bona fide 18th century vanity table, which was quite exiting! The Nun's cream did brighten Anna's complexion and she looked slightly paler, but she didn't look overly made up with white makeup. Her rouge is the Economical rouge with Carmine as pigment and the lip paint is pigmented with Alkanet.

I also made Lithia's hair. As it is dyed a bright red, it turns pink when it is powdered with white hair powder. She is also using the Spanish white I made. Her skin is very white naturally, so the makeup just leaves her skin glowing.

I did a try on a Rococo hairdo, which I was semi-pleased with . The front is just brushed back and put up in a top-knot- preferably there would have been curls and a bit more going around here. The back was inspired by a bust of Madame Pompadour and made up in three braids that was pinned to the top knot and the ends curled. Of course I should have made sure that more pictures were taken, but I was too busy having fun.

Cyprian powder

Lady at Toilette, Utrecht school, 17th century
Click on the link for a fun article on 17th century beauty.

Today I have a 17^th century perfume recipe for you, taken from Polygraphice by William Salmon, published in 1685.

The recipe

To make Cyprian Powder.

Gather Musk moss of the Oak in December, January or Februarys wash it very clean in Rose-water, then dry it, steep it in Rose-water for two days, then dry it again, which do oftentimes: then bring it into fine Powder and fierce it: of which take one pound, Musk one ounce, Ambergrise half an ounce, Civet two drachms, yellow Sanders in powder two ounces, mix all well together in a marble mortar.

Another way to make the same.

Take of the aforesaid powder of Oak-moss one pound, Benjamin, Storax of each two ounces in fine Powder: Musk .Ambergrise and Civet of each three drachms, mix them well in a mortar.

 Breaking down the recipe

Oak moss Despite the name, this is really a lichen, Evernia prunastri, and has been used in perfumes since the Middle ages. The scent has been described as dry, woody, and smoky with a hint of tar. Used as fixatives in modern perfumes, or rather, a synthetic is, real oak moss is now forbidden, and is often used in men’s perfumes and in the perfume family that is called chypre.

Musk A common base notes in perfumery derived from glands from various animals. Today synthetic musk is almost exclusively used. Musk in large doses smells rather pungent, but diluted it is a warm, sweet and woody scent.

Ambergris A base notes in perfumery with a sweet, vanilla-ish scent with aquatic undertones. It comes from the intestines of sperm whales that habitually vomit out lumps of ambergris, which then age into scent maturity by the sea water. Though it is perfectly, even preferable, possible with ethically gathered ambergris, it is also very expensive and synthetics are almost always used today.

Civet Another animalistic base note, derived from the civet. It is similar to musk, but even more pungent concentrated and more sweet, smoky and sharp when diluted. Nowadays usually a synthetic.

Yellow sanders Wood from a tree, Zanthoxylum flavum. The scented and durable tree is on the brink of being endangered, unfortunately.

Other ingredients can be found at the ingredient list at the top of the page

My thoughts

I bought some oak moss last year and have wanted to try my hands at a Cyprian, or Cyprus powder for some time. It was a popular perfume in the 17^th and 18^th century as well as the 19^th. In the 18^th century it was popular to mix it into hair powder to scent it, but it can also be sewn into small sachets to be worn inside clothes or pockets. There are several recipes around and they are all rather alike. Unlike modern perfumes that consist of base, middle and top notes, this perfume is all base notes. Such notes are long-lasting and often quite heavy.  I’m going to make this recipe, as I have vegetal musk, civet and ambergris substitute that I want to try. It is a very easy recipe. Wash, dry, steep dry and pound. I have actually done the first steps. The oak moss is currently steeping and smells quite lovely of roses and rain wet forests.

Queen's Royal, a cosmetic mystery

Theophila Palmer Reading Clarissa by Joshua Reynolds, 1771

I have encountered a little mystery. At the very last page of Charles Lillie’s The British perfumer we find the following recipe, which completely stumps me. I have absolutely no idea what it is supposed to be used for. Lillie wrote his manuscript in the 1740’s though it wasn’t published until 1822. The publisher has kindly provided notes of enlightenment on several recipes, but not on this one.

The recipe

QUEEN'S ROYAL:

Take one ounce of brown ochre,

One ounce of vermillion,

One ounce of rose-pink,

One ounce of ivory-black,

 

Three ounces of essence of bergamot,

One and a half ounce of essence of lemon,

Half an ounce of oil of lavender.

Half an ounce of oil of carraways, A quarter of an ounce of oil of ambergris,

Half an ounce of oil of cloves,

A quarter of an ounce of oil of rosemary,

and Half an ounce of oil of cinnamon.

 

These are to be well mixed together; but care must previously be taken to reduce the first-mentioned ingredients into very fine powder.

My thoughts
The recipe is in two parts. In the first several, finely milled, pigments are mixed in brown, red, pink and black. The first three would make a reddish brown; the addition of black will make the colour darker and duller. Pigments were expensive so there must be a reason for them to be in there. They must be meant to give something colour.

The second part is purely scent. Bergamot and lemon essence with oils of lavender, caraway, ambergris, clove, rosemary and cinnamon. That’s a lot of scent and several of the oil is very strongly scented like cinnamon and clove. So this is clearly meant to smell. Mixing pigments and scent together would either give a scented pigment or a paste. It is a bit hard to say until you have tried as it depends on the ratio between powder and liquid. I lean on a paste, but I’m not sure. And what was it used for? I have a few ideas, but they are just theories.

A scented powder to make into sachets? I don’t think so. Too much valuable pigment to hide away. Had it was meant for that purpose, the scent would have been mixed with starch.

A rouge? I don’t think so either. With ¼ black pigment the shade would most likely to be too dark and unbecoming. Also, cinnamon and clove oils can sting and redden skin upon application and would be uncomfortable to have on your face.

Can in be a tinted perfume meant for hair powder? Might be, but in that case it needs to be mixed with hair powder. Now I know that 18th century recipes aren’t always constant, but the other scented powders in this book are placed together and they also have clear instruction of the ratio between scented powder and hair powder.

For tinting eyebrows? That doesn’t seem too unlikely, but why not say so? The colour could work for hair and to scent your eyebrows aren’t that far-flung, actually- I have encountered that notion elsewhere, though never in an 18th century context.

Then I got a suggestion from a friend, and, well, it doesn’t seem too unlikely. That would explain why it is tucked away at the last page and that it lacks any kind of direction. Could this be meant to rub into the hair of your nether region? It would tint it and scent it, and might that be something that would be considered attractive? I balked at the thought of cinnamon oil on those parts but I have been informed that today you can buy oils, often containing just cinnamon that are actually meant to be used down there for added stimulation. So can this be a more risqué cosmetics for ladies (and gentlemen) who dared? What do you think? Or perhaps you have an excellent idea of what this was really used for that I haven’t thought about. I would love to hear what you think!

Bathing beauties, 18th century style

There is a widespread view that people in the 18^th century didn’t bathe and that is, perhaps, not completely untrue. There was a widespread belief that it was dangerous to the health to immerse the body in warm water. A warm bath was also a matter of economics, clean water was a luxury in most large cities and to that the added cost of getting, heating and disposing it. But during the century, bathing for health became more and more popular, preferable cooler bath and getting clean wasn’t the big issue, more a bi-effect. Not bathing, however, isn’t the same thing as not trying to be clean. Though the standard for cleanliness was certainly laxer than today, people did wash themselves. A small amount of warm water and a piece of cloth work quite well. There was also a reason for washing that we modern people perhaps don’t think about- vermin. There are a number of recipes, often water based tinctures with various herbs, that body and hair should be washed in regularly to keep lice and other creepy crawlies at bay.

Bathing and washing were quite a popular theme in art, often disguised as an ancient goddess, but here are a few pieces of artwork that seems to be a bit more anchored in reality. Please obeserve that nudity is afoot.

 

This robust beauty climbing out of her bath, could in all probability be a realistic depiction of a wealthy lady bathing. Her maids are ready with towels, one is getting something from the vanity and the bed is prepared for its mistress so she can rest after her ordeal. There is even a girl keeping watch so no one can peek at the naked lady.

 

Bather by Jean-Baptiste Pater, circa 1730

 

Bathing in the open did occur in the late 17th century, Louis XIV, for example, was a keen swimmer and both ladies and gentlemen of his court swam as well. And though I have yet to find anything about this habit occuring in the 18th century, it is plausible. And these ladies, bathing in their shifts do seem more grounded in reality than all the supposed godesses of the 18th century that usually bathe in the buff.

Summer by Nicholas Lancret

 

The Bathers by Jean-Baptiste Pater, first half of the 18th century

A little porcelaine lady preparing to wash from a basin.

Bathing nude by Hoechst

 

Perhaps the aim is clean feet, like Boucher's beauty below. This painting had a pendant, now lost. I wonder what it depicted.

 

A Young Woman Taking A Footbath by François Boucher, 1766

 

The bidet was very popular with aristocrats in France and Marie Antoinette is supposed to have owned several.

La Toilette intime ou la Rose effeuillee by Louis-Léopold Boilly

 An 18th century bathing shift in blue and white linen, owned by Martha Washington.

Click here for more information.

 

Mud baths were defintly taken for health reasons.

Late 18th century engraving

 

The most famous bather of the 18th century is probably Jean-Paul Marat who was famously killed by Charlotte Corday in his bathtub in 1793. He suffered from a skin disease and spent much of his time in a medicinal bath.

Death of Marat by Jacques-Louis David, 1793

 

FAQ

Possible self-portrait of Adélaïde Labille-Guiard, 1787

This blog now has a FAQ. This post have a permanent position above.

If you have any questions not covered in this FAQ, please don’t hesitate to contact me at isis.33 at passagen.se

  

Do you sell any products? No, I don’t. I have thought about it, but Swedish regulations make it much too expensive and difficult to do that on a hobby basis.

Where can I buy cosmetics made after historical recipes then? Try these shops:

Ageless Artifice They don’t have a web shop anymore, but they still sell products. You can read my review of several of their 18^th century products here.

Little Bits on Etsy. I don’t have any personal experience of their products, but you can read American Duchess’ review here.

Sally Pointer I have only tried her white lead substitute, but she has done a lot of research into historical cosmetics and knows a lot about it.

Where do you shop for ingredients? You can find a list here.

Where do you find the recipes you use? By playing detective a bit. Searching Google books has proved a bit of a gold mine. Even if the books may not be available online, you at least get titles and authors. When reading books about cosmetics I take note of sources and check them out.

You seem to know a lot about historical makeup. Why don’t you write a book about it? Maybe… I have been thinking about it quite a lot, actually. If I do, though, I don’t think I would be able to pull it off writing it in English, but in my native Swedish.

You use [ingredient X] in a recipe and I’m allergic to that. Why do you use that if people are allergic to it? You can have allergies just about everything, so to provide recipes that no one is allergic to, is impossible. I try to be clear if allergic reactions are common, but I strongly urge anyone who wants to try any of the recipes found here, to do more research about the ingredients needed and to do a patch test.

How historically correct are you? As close as I can. I never use ingredients that are harmful for you and I try to steer clear from anything that are endangered, so recipes including such things are by necessity less correct. I try to find substitutes which are as close as possible to the original ingredient. I also make the recipes with modern equipment.

You wrote [statement y] which isn’t correct. Can I trust that what you write is true? My aim is to be as correct as possible. However, this blog is a research tool for me, not the end product. In other words, my research is ongoing and I constantly go back and revise. I may get things wrong or misunderstand things. If you think something I say is wrong, please ask. Or do a bit of research on your own- research is a great ways to exercise the brain cells.

You mostly write about the 18^th century even if the blog title says it’s about historical makeup. Are you going to write about other time periods as well? My main interest lies mainly with the 17^th and the 18^th century, but I don’t want to restrict myself to that narrow period as I may very well want to write about cosmetics in a broader sense. As I have in a few posts already. I will probably not write much about the 19^th century for the reason that there already is a blog that does that very well:

The Gibson Girl's Guide to Glamor

Sally Pointer also has a few articles on cosmetics.

 

Honey water

 

Eliza Smith’s Compleat Housewife, or Accomplish’d Gentlewoman’s Companion,
 1727

After my post on hair powder I really had to look up the Honey water mentioned in the brown powder recipe. Curiously enough this perfume, despite the name, doesn’t contain any honey. It is also a long recipe; though I will try to break it down to make it easier to overview. 

The recipe

AQUA-MELLIS, OR THE KING'S HONEYWATER.

Take twenty-eight pounds of coriander seeds, ground small in the starch-mill; twenty-eight common bunches of sweet marjoram, in flower, dried and stripped from the twigs, one pound of calamus aromaticus, one pound of yellow saunders, and one pound of orange and lemon peel. Let the three last mentioned substances be separately beaten into gross powder.

Mix the above ingredients, and put them into a sixty-gallon copper-still, and add to them twenty gallons of proof spirits, and the same quantity of rain or spring water.Lute well all the junctures of the apparatus, and leave the ingredients in this state, without fire, for forty-eight hours. At the end of this time, begin to distil by a very gentle heat, lest the flowers and seeds, which are very light, should rise suddenly in the still-head, stop up the worm, and endanger the whole work.

Increase the fire after the first half hour, and keep it regular, thereafter, till the termination of the process.

Draw off about twenty-six or twentyseven gallons, or continue so long as the spirit will burn, by the application of a lighted paper to a small quantity of it in a saucer.

Next day, when the still is perfectly cold, let it be well cleaned out, saving the remaining ingredients for further uses, as will be after directed.

Now return the spirits drawn off yesterday into the still, and add thereto ten or twelve gallons of water. Then put in the following nine ingredients, bruised andmixed as directed. These are to remain in the liquor, in a cold state, for forty-eight hours; attention being still paid to luting and stopping close, as before.

At the end of this time, kindle the fire, and work off (slowly at first) as before, until twenty-six gallons are distilled. Mix all the different runnings together in a copper vessel, kept for this purpose only; and, as for what may come over after the twentysix gallons, it must be kept, and added to the ingredients used for the making of the next quantity of Hungary water.

The nine ingredients alluded to above, are as follows :—

Fourteen ounces of nutmegs, Four ounces of cloves, Twelve ounces of cinnamon bark, Eight ounces of pimento, and Forty ounces of cassia lignum. These are to be separately broken or bruised in an iron mortar, until they are about the size of small peas. If there be any dust, it must be sifted from them before they are used.

When the above are broken, take Forty ounces of storax, Forty ounces of gum benjamin, Forty ounces of labdanum, and Forty venellios, by tale. Break and bruise the above also, but make as little dust as possible. Put the dust from these and the foregoing, together, into a coarse muslin bag, which is to be hung in the still, so that the liquor, during distillation, may extract all its virtues.

Having drawn off, in this second distillation, just twenty-six gallons, add to it, in a copper vessel, that will hold forty gallons, six gallons of orange flower-water, and eight gallons of rose-water, which has been recently made.

Now mix together ten ounces of spirit of musk, ten ounces of spirit of ambergris, half an ounce of true oil of lavender, half an ounce of good essence of bergamot, and half an ounce of oil of rhodium.

When properly mixed, put all these into the copper vessel, and stir the whole well together. It would be better, however, if

these strong perfumes were put in before the orange-flower and rose waters.

Add to all these a quart of milk, which has stood for a night, and which has had all the cream taken clearly off:, then agitate and mix the whole well together, and stop the vessel up close, until the time when it is to be used.

Remarks.

The jar ought to have a lock-cock soldered into it, to prevent accidents. This should be placed fully two inches from the bottom, in order that the milk, and other impurities, may fall to the bottom, and not flow through into the vessels in which it is drawn off for use.

If this honey-water be made in the spring, about March or April, and if the weather be fair, it will be quite fined down in the course of a month; that is, if it be not opened or disturbed. When the perfumer finds, by drawing off a little in a glass, that the milk, &c. have fallen down to the bottom, he may draw the whole off into clean andwell-seasoned stone, or glass, bottles; or much rather into another copper jar.

This composition ought never to be drawn off in rainy or cloudy weather; for then the milk is apt to rise. In warm weather it should be kept cool; and, in winter, as warm as possible. When distilled in the winter, the jars ought to be warmed, otherwise the honey-water will not be fined for five or six months.

If the honey-water be twenty years old, so much the better.

The ingredients from the first distillation should be immediately dried in the sun, otherwise they will become mouldy. When there is a considerable quantity from three or four makings, it ought to be ground in a mill, and finely sifted. They will be found to be of great use in the making of ordinary brown wash-balls,- and, with some additions, of brown powders for the hair.

The ingredients from the second distillation are of much greater value than the above, and therefore require more care in the drying. These are of great use for the best sort of gross powders, for sweet bags, &c.; and, if made into a fine powder, may be made use of, with great success, in the best sort of brown perfumed balls.

The same powder, with fresh ingredients, makes excellent pastils, to burn; and may be further used in making spirit of benjamin. For all these uses, it is necessary to attend to the receipts which will hereafter be given./ The British Perfumer 

Source

Breaking down the recipe

Ingredients that have been described in earlier posts can be found in the ingredients list on the top of the page.

First stage

Coriander seeds An herb, with a citrusy flavor. Very common in Indian cuisine.

Marjoram An herb with a citrus and pine flavor.

Calamus Aromaticus

Yellow sandalwood Aromatic tree. A common ingredient in scents

Orange and Lemon peels The dried peels of the fruits.

There ingredients are steeped in alcohol and water before being distilled. The remains of the spices are saved and dried and the liquid is returned to the still.

Second stage

Add more water and add:

Nutmeg Spice. Dried seeds. Used in cooking, but can be poisonous in large quantities.

Clove

Cinnamon

Pimento A little tricky, perhaps- Pimento can mean a red pepper but it can also mean Allspice, and that is what it means here. That spice is the dried fruits of the of the Pimenta dioica plant

Cassia Sometimes called Bastard cinnamon. Has less taste and rougher texture than true cinnamon and is therefore cheaper.

Storax

Gum Benjamin or Benzoin resin

Labdanum

Venellios Tonka bean, a fragrant seed of the Tonka bean tree; used in perfumes and medicines and as a substitute for vanilla. EDIT: After further research, Venellios is NOT Tonka bean, but an inferior quality of Vanilla. Tonka would probably work well as a substitute, though.

Let it steep again and then distill. Once again the remains are saved and dried, but keep them separate from the first remains.

Third stage

Add

Spirit of Musk Animalistic scent originally derived from the glands from various animals, like musk deer. Today synthetic musk is almost exclusively used. Probably the most common base note in perfumes. Spirit of musk is an alcohol extract.

Spirit of Ambergris Ambergris is a waxy substance that comes from the digestive tracks of Sperm whales. Prepared it smells wonderful and has been used as fixative and base note in perfume for a long time. It can be ethically harvested, but the price is very high so usually synthetic substitutes are used. Spirit of ambergris is an alcohol extract.

Lavender oil

Bergamot essence Comes from Bergamot orange, which looks like a yellow orange. Used in scents and to flavor Earl Grey tea.

Rhodium oil, or Rosewood oil

Orange flower water A distillation of fresh bitter-orange blossoms

Rose water

Milk

Stir and leave it to settle

Fourth stage

When the milk, along with any impurities has settled at the bottom, decant the perfume into suitable bottles.

 

The dried remains can be used to perfume scent bags and powder.

My thoughts

There are a lot of ingredients in the recipe and with steeping and distilling it takes several days to come to the end of the third stage. The recipe suggests that the fourth stage will take months. The recipe also has huge quantities, which isn’t surprising as Charles Lillie was a perfumer by trade. I would really like to try this one, on a much smaller scale, of course. Most of the perfume recipes I have read demand real ambergris and musk, which would mean trying to convert it, as essence if what I can get my hand on. This recipe, as you can see, doesn’t need any such thing.

The problem that needs to be solved is the distillation process. Steam distillation in short, short is boiling water, making the steam go through the scent matter, leading the condensed liquid into another container and cool it. Hey presto, scent! I don’t really have the room to by any fancy apparatus, but I have found some simpler arrangements, like this one. For a smaller amount, it does seem to be doable.

 

I wonder if the perfume turns out spicy or flowery. The first batch of ingredients all have a citrusy scent, which ought to mean that the top notes will have a lemon quality. Then it would have spicy/resinous middle tones and muck and ambergris as base. Sounds quite a lot like a perfume I would enjoy!

Alchemy satire, 18th-century artwork