The Astonishing Cost of Purple Dye in Ancient Rome

The terms tyrion and royal purple were used to describe the whole range of hues from crimson to cobalt that ancient dyers produced from urex shellfish. But the most iconic color treasured beyond any other was deepest violet almost black with the iridescent shimmer of dried blood. Unlike most of the colors produced by ancient vegetable dyes, royal purple was virtually immune to washing and weathering. When Alexander the Great captured the Persian treasury at Susa, he found stores of purple dye, still fresh, that had been taken from Greece 190 years before. True royal purple could only be produced from three related species of sea snails, collectively known as Murex.

This had been discovered, according to myth, when Hercules was walking with his dog on a beach near Tier. The dog gobbled up a snail, and Hercules saw that its mouth was stained purple. Picked by hand or caught in traps, the snails were kept alive until the time came to punch through their shells and extract the flower of purple, the hypoanial gland, which secretes milky mucus. The process by which wreaking heaps of glands were transmuted into precious dye, has been lost. According to Plenny the Elder, the glands were placed in vats, salted and heated in water for an extended period. Modern attempts to

replicate these steps, however, have been only partially successful. Although dye works peppered the Mediterranean coast from Spain to Syria. The most famous center of production was Tier, notorious for the density and pungency of its facilities. In late antiquity, Tier was chosen as the site of an imperially owned purple factory complete with a textile mill and a fleet of snail collecting boats. Since 10,000 snails were required to manufacture a gram of dye, purple cloth was always a luxury. Aristocratic mummies in New Kingdom Egypt were sometimes wrapped with purple bandages.

Homer's immortal nymphs wo sea purple robes. Clydeestra spread a purple carpet to give Agamemnon a deceptively royal welcome just before sending him to Hades. In Rome, members of the equestrian order wore tunics with a narrow purple stripe. A broader stripe marked the tunics of senators. The toga pita dawned by high officials had a purple hem. The toga pika of a triumphing general was purple with gold embroidery. Tragic actors wore mock purple cloaks. So in grim parody did criminals condemned to the arena. Fashionable dinner guests sported purple robes. Luxury editions of books were bound with purple covers. Purple shrouds wrapped the bodies of the rich.

Sacrificial sheep were sometimes splashed with purple dye. By the Roman era, purple had long been the color of kings. Persian monarchs wore purple cloaks and Alexander imitated them. Purple draped the dining couches of the Talmies. When Jesus was being mocked as king of the Jews, a tattered purple mantle was flung over his shoulders. Emperors swore on all purple Toga and even signed their names with purple ink. Caligula executed a king of Moritania because he envied his purple cloak. Nero, who made it illegal for anyone besides himself to wear the finest shades of purple, sent undercover agents into Rome's markets to catch sellers of

contraband dye. A series of late antique emperors likewise forbade any private citizen to sport the imperial color. Eventually, even outfitting a ship to fish from Murex snails was prohibited. We'll run the numbers for how much purple dye and purple clothing cost after a brief word about this video's sponsor. This is a coin of Nero struck in Alexandria almost 2,000 years ago. The emperor appears on one side, Poseidon on the other. A blend of politics, power, and myth. And thanks to Yoast Vonasum of Paragan Pendants, I can carry this artifact wherever I go. Yoast sets authentic ancient coins into gold and silver. He doesn't use bezels, prongs,

or back plates, just clean, minimalist settings that let the history speak for itself. I have never seen finer settings, and thousands of satisfied customers agree. Yoast's pendants feature some of the most iconic ancient coins, from dinari of Julius Caesar to the tetradrams of classical Athens. Go to paraganpendants.com and use the code toolen stone to receive 15% off. Returning to our topic, in classical Athens, a purple cloak cost three minas, 300 dramas, when a family of four could live comfortably for a year on 200. The finest purple cloth was worth its weight in silver and an especially rich garment

could cost two talents, 12,000 dramas. During the reign of Augustus, a pound of Tyrion purple dye stuff cost more than 4,000 cesteri. A cloak of second rate purple might sell for 10,000 and a finer garment for 10 times that. Early imperial legionaries for comparison earned 900 cister a year. According to Dialesian's price edict, which listed the maximum prices that could legally be charged for some 1,500 goods and services, purple slippers should cost no more than 80 dinari. Prices for garments were far higher, up to 15,000 dinari for a wool cloak with purple bands, 40,000 for a purple striped silk undershirt, and 48,000 for a hooded dalmatic. A pound of purple wool was worth 50,000

nari. A pound of purple silk 150,000. To contextualize those numbers, an egg according to the price edict is worth one dinarius. A pint of Egyptian beer two. A bundle of asparagus 6. A pound of pork 12. And a sa's udder 20. A chicken costs 30 dinari. A fattened pheasant 250 and a peacock 300. A pound of soap is 24 dinar. A pound of ivory 150. A pound of Arabian saffron 2,000. Up to 400 can be charged for a sheep. 7,000 for a pack donkey, 25,000 for a bacterian camel. An attorney can ask 1,000 for pleading a case. A mature male slave can be sold for no more than 30,000.

A pound of purple silk, in other words, was worth as much as 75,000 pints of beer, 7,500 succulent saw utters, 750 fattened feeasants, 150 lawsuits, six bacterian camels, or a single firstass male lion. I'm not lying about the benefits of joining the Tolten Stone Patreon, where members are treated to bonus content never seen by the uninitiated, including my upcoming Rome and Review video on Montipython's Life of Brian. Never forget my other scintillating channels, Tollen Stone Footnotes and Scenic Routts to the Past. If you're still listening, thanks for powering through to the end and for watching Tolden Stone.