i

T H E R O U T L E D G E C O M PA N I O N T O
WO M E N A N D M O NA R C H Y I N T H E
A N C I E N T M E D I T E R R A N E A N WO R L D

This volume offers the first comprehensive look at the role of women in the monarchies of
the ancient Mediterranean. It consistently addresses certain issues across all dynasties: title; role
in succession; the situation of mothers, wives, and daughters of kings; regnant and co-​regnant
women; and role in cult and in dynastic image, and examines a sampling of the careers of indi-
vidual women while placing them within broader contexts. Written by an international group
of experts, this collection is based on the assumption that women played a fundamental role in
ancient monarchy, that they were part of, not apart from it, and that it is necessary to understand
their role to understand ancient monarchies. This is a crucial resource for anyone interested in
the role of women in antiquity.

Elizabeth D. Carney is Professor of History and Carol K. Brown Scholar in the Humanities,
Emerita, at Clemson University, USA. Her focus has been on Macedonian and Hellenistic
monarchy and the role of royal women in monarchy, most recently in Molossia. She has written
Women and Monarchy in Ancient Macedonia (2000), Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great (2006),
Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life (2013), and Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power
(2019). Some of her articles dealing with monarchy, with new afterwords, are collected in King
and Court in Ancient Macedonia: Rivalry,Treason and Conspiracy (2015).

Sabine Müller is Professor of Ancient History at Marburg University, Germany. Her research
focuses on the Persian empire, Argead Macedonia, the Hellenistic empires, Macedonian royal
women, Lukian, and reception studies. Her publications include the monographs Das hellenistische
Königspaar in der medialen Repräsentation. Ptolemaios II. und Arsinoë II. (2009), Perdikkas II. –​Retter
Makedoniens (2017), and Alexander der Große. Eroberung –​Politik –​Rezeption (2019).
ii

“Whilst biographies of individual queens and treatments of their various dynastic fam-
ilies have at last come more into vogue in the new millennium, this is the first book to
establish a comprehensive and fully comparative perspective on the royal women of the
ancient east Mediterranean as a larger phenomenon. Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine
Müller have assembled an international team of contributors from leading scholars in
their sundry fields. These now supply authoritative accounts of the different dynasties
and of the more prominent individual figures amongst them, whilst adopting an admir-
ably diverse series of intellectual approaches.… The volume is presented in an open
and engaging style that renders it not only useful for specialists but also accessible and
interesting for undergraduates and general readers.”
Daniel Ogden, University of Exeter, UK

“The work will be the first comprehensive treatment of ancient royal women and their
role in the ancient Mediterranean. Especially welcome is the inclusion of such states as
Caria, Kush, Palmyra, and the Parthians, which are often ignored in such works. Second,
and equally important, the analysis of royal women is firmly located in the context of
the institution of monarchy with a clear recognition of the varied forms monarchy took
in the ancient Mediterranean world. The editors have assembled an excellent team of
authors, which ensures that the chapters will be of high quality.… This is an excel-
lent project, and the resulting volume will be a valuable contribution to scholarship on
ancient Mediterranean monarchy.”
Stanley M. Burstein, California State University, Los Angeles, USA
iii

THE ROUTLEDGE
C O M PA N I O N T O WO M E N
A N D M O NA R C H Y
IN THE ANCIENT
M E D I T E R R A N E A N WO R L D

Edited by Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller

iv

First published 2021

by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2021 selection and editorial matter, Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller;
individual chapters, the contributors
The right of Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller to be identified as the authors of the
editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance
with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised
in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or
hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information
storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks,
and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
British Library Cataloguing-​in-​Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data
Names: Carney, Elizabeth Donnelly, 1947– editor. | Müller, Sabine, 1972– editor.
Title: The Routledge companion to women and monarchy in the ancient
Mediterranean world / edited by Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020019166 (print) | LCCN 2020019167 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781138358843 (hbk) | ISBN 9780429434105 (ebk)
Subjects: LCSH: Queens–Mediterranean Region–History–To 1500. |
Women–Political activity–Mediterranean Region–History–To 1500. |
Women in public life–Mediterranean Region–History–To 1500. |
Nobility–Mediterranean Region–History–To 1500. |
Mediterranean Region–History–To 476.
Classification: LCC DE86 .R68 2021 (print) |
LCC DE86 (ebook) | DDC 929.7082/0937–dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020019166
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020019167
ISBN: 978-​1-​138-​35884-​3 (hbk)
ISBN: 978-​0-​429-​43410-​5 (ebk)
Typeset in Bembo
by Newgen Publishing UK
v

CONTENTS

List of figures  ix
List of table  xi
Notes on contributors  xii

PART I
Women and monarchy in the ancient Mediterranean  1

1 Introduction to thinking about women and monarchy in the ancient world  3

Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller

PART II
Egypt and the Nile Valley  9

2 The king’s mother in the Old and Middle Kingdoms  11

Lisa Sabbahy

3 Regnant women in Egypt  22

Martina Minas-​Nerpel

4 The image of Nefertiti  35

Athena Van der Perre

5 The God’s Wife of Amun: origins and rise to power  47

Mariam F. Ayad

6 The role and status of royal women in Kush  61

Angelika Lohwasser

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Contents

7 Ptolemaic royal women  73

Anne Bielman Sánchez and Giuseppina Lenzo

8 Berenike II  84
Sabine Müller

9 Royal women and Ptolemaic cults  96

Stefan Pfeiffer

10 Ptolemaic women’s patronage of the arts  108

Silvia Barbantani

11 The Kleopatra problem: Roman sources and a female Ptolemaic ruler  121
Christoph Schäfer

PART III
The ancient Near East  135

12 Invisible Mesopotamian royal women?  137

Sebastian Fink

13 Achaimenid women  149

Maria Brosius

14 Karian royal women and the creation of a royal identity  161

Stephen Ruzicka

15 Seleukid women  173

Marek Jan Olbrycht

16 Apama and Stratonike: the first Seleukid basilissai  186

Gillian Ramsey

17 Seleukid marriage alliances  198

Monica D’Agostini

18 Royal mothers and dynastic power in Attalid Pergamon  210

Dolores Mirón

19 Hasmonean women  222

Julia Wilker

20 Women at the Arsakid court  234

Irene Madreiter and Udo Hartmann

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Contents

21 Women of the Sassanid dynasty (224–​651 CE)  246

Josef Wiesehöfer

22 Zenobia of Palmyra  256

Lucinda Dirven

PART IV
Greece and Macedonia  269

23 “Royal” women in the Homeric epics  271

Johannes Heinrichs

24 Royal women in Greek tragedy  283

Hanna M. Roisman

25 Argead women  294

Sabine Müller

26 Women in Antigonid monarchy  307

Elizabeth D. Carney

PART V
Commonalities  319

27 Transitional royal women: Kleopatra, sister of Alexander the Great,

Adea Eurydike, and Phila  321
Elizabeth D. Carney

28 Women and dynasty at the Hellenistic imperial courts  333

Rolf Strootman

29 Royal brother–​sister marriage, Ptolemaic and otherwise  346

Sheila L. Ager

30 Jugate images in Ptolemaic and Julio-​Claudian monarchy  359

Dimitris Plantzos

PART VI
Rome: late republic through empire  373

31 Octavia Minor and patronage  375

Katrina Moore

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Contents

32 Livia and the principate of Augustus and Tiberius  388

Christiane Kunst

33 Julio-​Claudian imperial women  399

Francesca Cenerini

34 The imperial women from the Flavians to the Severi  411

Kordula Schnegg

35 Portraiture of Flavian imperial women  423

Annetta Alexandridis

36 The Faustinas  439

Stefan Priwitzer

37 Women in the Severan dynasty  452

Riccardo Bertolazzi

38 Women in the family of Constantine  463

Michaela Dirschlmayer

PART VII
Reception from antiquity to present times  477

39 Semiramis: perception and presentation of female power in an

Oriental garb  479
Brigitte Truschnegg

40 Tanaquil and Tullia in Livy as Roman caricatures of Greek mythic and

historic Hellenistic queens  491
Judith P. Hallett and Karen Klaiber Hersch

41 Roman empresses on screen: an epic failure?  504

Anja Wieber

Index  517

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FIGURES

4.1 Limestone house altar depicting Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and three of their
daughters, found at Amarna  38
5.1 Mut embracing Amun. Karnak Hypostyle Hall, east wall, south half  51
5.2a Shepenwepet II performing the ritual Driving the four Calves
(hout behesou) for Osiris, Horus, and deified Amenirdis I. Courtyard,
Funerary Chapel of Amenirdis I, Medinet Habu  52
5.2b Shepenwepet II offering to Ra-​Horakhty, Isis, and deified Amenirdis
I. Courtyard, Funerary Chapel of Amenirdis I, Medinet Habu  52
6.1 Lunette of the coronation stele of king Aspelta  63
6.2 Pylon of the pyramid chapel of Amanishakheto  67
20.1 Silver coin of Phraates V Phraatakes and Mousa  239
30.1 Gold octodrachm (obverse); Jugate busts of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II  360
30.2 Gold octodrachm (reverse); Jugate busts of Ptolemy I and Berenike I  361
30.3 Clay seal-​impression from Edfu; Ptolemaic couple, late second /​early
first century BCE  365
30.4 Clay seal-​impression from Edfu; Ptolemaic couple, late second /​early
first century BCE  365
30.5 Cornelian intaglio. Imperial couple, c. 62–​65 CE  367
35.1 Aureus of Domitian, depicting Divus Vespasianus on the obverse (a) and
Diva Flavia Domitilla with stola on the reverse (b)  430
35.2 Colossal marble head of Flavia Domitilla  430
35.3 Denarius of Titus with Julia Titi on the obverse and Venus with helmet
and scepter on the reverse  431
35.4 Dupondius of Titus with Julia Titi on the obverse (a) and Ceres with
torch and ears of wheat on the reverse (b)  431
35.5 Portrait of Julia Titi, head on modern bust, marble  432
35.6 Sestertius of Domitian, with Domitia on obverse (a) and Domitia seated
with child as mother of the divine Caesar on reverse (b)  432

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Figures

35.7 Aureus of Domitian, with Domitia on obverse (a) and her son as Divus
Caesar on reverse (b)  433
35.8 Cameo bust of Julia Titi/​Domitia (?) in apotheosis  433
38.1 Genealogical chart of the family of Constantine  471
41.1 Livia in front of the Ara Pacis: Flora Robson in I, Claudius  506
41.2 Poppaea plotting: Claudette Colbert in The Sign of the Cross  511

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TABLE

36.1 Proportion of coins representing women in relation to all coins of the

reigns in the era of the Faustinas  442

xi
xii

CONTRIBUTORS

Sheila L. Ager is Professor of Classical Studies and currently Dean of Arts at the University
of Waterloo, Canada. She is the author of Interstate Arbitrations in the Greek World, 337–​90 BC
(1996), co-​editor (with Riemer Faber) of Belonging and Isolation in the Hellenistic World (2013),
and editor of A Cultural History of Peace in Antiquity (2020). Much of her research has focused
on international relations in antiquity, in particular peaceful conflict resolution. She is also
the author of several papers on Hellenistic monarchy, especially the Hellenistic queens of the
Ptolemaic and Seleukid houses.

Annetta Alexandridis is Associate Professor of Greek and Roman Art and Archaeology at
Cornell University. Her research interests include Roman portraiture, the iconography of
Greek myth, gender and the body, animals, and archaeology and its media. She is the author
of Die Frauen des Römischen Kaiserhauses. Eine Untersuchung ihrer bildlichen Darstellung von Livia
bis Iulia Domna (2004) and several articles on the iconography of women and of the Roman
empresses.

Mariam F. Ayad is an Associate Professor of Egyptology at the American University of Cairo

and the author of God’s Wife, God’s Servant: The God’s Wife of Amun (c. 740–​525 BC) (2009).
She obtained her PhD in Egyptology at Brown University in 2003, where her dissertation dealt
with the “Funerary Texts of Amenirdis I: Analysis of their Layout and Purpose.” A specialist in
the history of Egypt during the first millennium BCE, her research interests focus on the inter-
section of ritual, gender, and the selection and transmission of religious texts.

Silvia Barbantani is Associate Professor of Classical Philology and Papyrology at the Università
Cattolica del Sacro Cuore, Milan. She studied in Milan, Urbino, and Venice (VIU), and was a
visiting student in Oxford and Cambridge. She is Associate Member of the Waterloo Institute for
Hellenistic Studies, University of Waterloo, Canada. She has published extensively on Hellenistic
history and literature, focusing mainly on epigram, encomiastic poetry, and lyric poetry; she is a
contributor to Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker Continued. She is currently working on a
corpus of Hellenistic epigrams related to military men and collaborating with a team of scholars
on an update of the Supplementum Hellenisticum.

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Notes on contributors

Riccardo Bertolazzi obtained a PhD in Greek and Roman Studies at the University of
Calgary in 2017 and was a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Toronto between 2017 and
2019. He has published numerous articles on social and military matters related to Roman
imperial history, with particular focus on epigraphic texts from Italy, North Africa, and the
Danubian provinces. As a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Verona, he is now in the pro-
cess of publishing a book on the relationship between emperor Septimius Severus and the cities
of the empire.

Anne Bielman Sánchez is Professor of Ancient History at the University of Lausanne

(Switzerland). Since 1998, she has worked on social issues in ancient contexts, especially on
female public activities in the Greek Hellenistic world: queens, priestesses, female magistrates,
and benefactors. Her studies have frequently focused on ancient inscriptions, for instance her
monograph Femmes en public dans le monde hellénistique (2002). She co-​authored, with Giuseppina
Lenzo, Inventer le pouvoir féminin: Cléopâtre I et Cléopâtre II, reines d’Egypte au IIe s. av. J.-​C. (2015).
She recently edited Power Couples in Antiquity: Transversal Perspectives (2019).

Maria Brosius’ research focuses on the history of pre-​ Islamic Persia, especially on the
Achaimenid period, as well as on the cultural, intellectual, and religious connections between
Greece and the eastern Mediterranean. Her publications include Women in Ancient Persia (559–​
331 BC) (1996) and The Persians: An Introduction (2006). She recently completed the monograph
A History of the Achaemenid Empire as part of the series History of the Ancient World. Among her
articles related to Achaimenid history are “Persian Diplomacy between ‘Pax Persica’ and ‘Zero
Tolerance’” (2012), and “Some Remarks on the Channels of the Transmission of Knowledge in
the Ancient Mediterranean World” (2014).

Elizabeth D. Carney is Professor of History and Carol K. Brown Scholar in the Humanities,
Emerita, at Clemson University. Her focus has been on Macedonian and Hellenistic monarchy
and the role of royal women in monarchy, most recently in Molossia. She has written Women
and Monarchy in Ancient Macedonia (2000), Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great (2006), Arsinoë
of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life (2013), and Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power (2019).
Some of her articles dealing with monarchy, with new afterwords, are collected in King and
Court in Ancient Macedonia: Rivalry,Treason and Conspiracy (2015).

Francesca Cenerini is Full Professor of Roman History at the University of Bologna (Italy).
Her research interests are primarily focused on the representation of the female condition in
the Roman period through the analysis of epigraphic documentation and literary sources. This
research has produced numerous scholarly articles and two monographs: La donna romana. Modelli
e realtà (trans. The Roman Woman: Models and realities) (2002), and Dive e donne. Mogli, madri, figlie
e sorelle degli imperatori romani da Augusto a Commodo (trans. Divas and Women: Wives, Mothers,
Daughters and Sisters of the Roman Emperors from Augustus to Commodus) (2009). She continues
to participate in projects funded by the Spanish Ministry of Economics and Competitiveness
dealing with female marginalization in the Roman imperial age and on motherhood and
feelings in Greek and Roman society.

Monica D’Agostini, who holds doctorates from the Università Cattolica di Milano and the
Università di Bologna, focuses her research on politics, diplomacy, dynastic relations, the exertion
and expression of power, and the construction of political and military authority in Macedonia
and Hellenistic antiquity, with forays into the history of modern political thought. Her

xiii
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Notes on contributors

publications include Gaetano Filangieri and Benjamin Franklin: Between the Italian Enlightenment
and the US Constitution (2011) and The Rise of Philip V: Kingship and Rule in the Hellenistic World
(2019). She is currently affiliated with the Department of Archaeology, Ancient History, and
History of Art at Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore, Milan.

Michaela Dirschlmayer is Lecturer in Ancient History at Goethe-​ University, Frankfurt

(Germany) and copy-​editor of the Historische Zeitschrift, a leading historical journal in Germany.
After her studies in the Archaeology of the Roman and Greek period, the Near East and
Ancient History in Mainz and Frankfurt am Main, from 2008 until 2012 she worked as a
research associate in the research project “Normative Orders” at Goethe-​University. In 2013 she
finished her PhD about church foundations of Roman empresses, which was published in 2015.

Lucinda Dirven is attached as researcher to the History department of the University of

Amsterdam. She was trained as an art historian and historian of religion and combines written
and material sources in her research, which focuses on the cultural history of Syria and
Mesopotamia during the first three centuries CE, as well as on early Christian and so-​called
“Oriental” cults in the Roman west. After her PhD, which was published as The Palmyrenes of
Dura-​Europos: A Case Study of Religious Interaction in Roman Syria (1999), she published exten-
sively on various sites in the Roman Near East and edited Hatra: Politics, Culture and Religion
between Parthia and Rome (2013). She is currently finishing a catalog, The Sculptures of Hatra, a
volume cataloging and analyzing all sculptures from this little-​known Parthian site.

Sebastian Fink is a postdoctoral researcher at the Academy of Finland Center of Excellence–​

Changes in Sacred Texts and Traditions at the University of Helsinki. He received his PhD in
2010 from the University of Innsbruck. His research interests include Ancient Near-​Eastern his-
tory, Near-​Eastern political and philosophical thought, Sumerian language, and Mesopotamian
literature. Currently he is working on a history of the continuities and changes in the Emesal
lamentations.

Judith P. Hallett is Professor of Classics and Distinguished Scholar–​Teacher Emerita at the

University of Maryland, College Park. She received her BA degree in Latin from Wellesley
College, and her MA and PhD degrees in Classical Philology from Harvard University. She
has published widely in the areas of Latin language and literature; women, sexuality and the
family in ancient Greek and Roman societies; classical reception; and the history of classical
studies in the nineteenth-​and twentieth-​century Anglophone world. The 19 essays in a 2013
Festschrift, Domina Illustris: Roman Literature, Gender, and Reception, published by Routledge,
honor her work.

Udo Hartmann has a PhD in Ancient History from the Freie Universität Berlin (2000) and
has taught at the Humboldt-​Universität in Berlin, in Dresden, Kiel, and Bochum. Since 2012,
he has been Lecturer in Ancient History at the University of Jena where he completed his
Habilitation in 2018. His main areas of research are the crisis of the Roman Empire in the
third century CE, the Roman Near East and Palmyra, Parthian and Sassanian history, and
philosophers in late antiquity.

Johannes Heinrichs is apl. Professor in Ancient History at the University of Cologne

(Germany), currently a collaborator in the project CIIP (Corpus Inscriptionum Iudaeae Palaestinae),
and one of the editors of the Lexicon of Argead Macedonia. He has publications in the fields of

xiv
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Notes on contributors

Achaimenid, Greek, and Latin epigraphy, numismatics, and history, Roman imperial prosopog-
raphy (PIR, vols VIII.1 and 2), in addition to articles on Celtic and Germanic groups in Western
Europe. His recent papers include discussions of a new bronze tablet from the Lykaion in
archaic Arcadia, on Greek wars from Mycenaean through Hellenistic times, and juristic aspects
of the Hefzibah inscription that contains letters by the Seleukid king Antiochus III.

Karen Klaiber Hersch is Associate Professor in the Department of Greek and Roman Classics
at Temple University. Her research interests include all aspects of Roman religion, history,
women, and imperial literature. She is the author of The Roman Wedding: Ritual and Meaning in
Antiquity (2010) and is the editor of a volume on marriage in Greek and Roman antiquity A
Cultural History of Marriage: Antiquity (2020). She is currently at work on new monograph on
Tanaquil.

Christiane Kunst is full Professor in Ancient History at the University of Osnabrück.

She has published monographs on the history of historiography, Roman housing, and the
Roman family. She has long written on aspects of gender. She is co-​editor of Grenzen der
Macht: Zur Rolle der römischen Kaiserfrauen (2000), author of Livia: Macht und Intrigen am Hof
des Augustus (2008), and editor of Matronage: Handlungsstrategien und soziale Netzwerke antiker
Herrscherfrauen (2013). More recently she has been working on conflict landscapes and geo-
graphical mobility.

Giuseppina Lenzo is Senior Lecturer in Ancient History at the University of Lausanne

(Switzerland). She is an Egyptologist specializing in the history and religion of the first millen-
nium BCE in ancient Egypt. The Ptolemaic queens are a particular focus of her research. She
published the book Inventer le pourvoir féminin: Cléopâtre I et Cléopâtre, reines d’Egypte au IIe s. av.
J.-​C. (2015) with Anne Bielman Sánchez, as well as many articles on this and other topics. She
is currently editing Cultes aux rois et aux héros dans l’Antiquité: continuités et changements à l’époque
hellénistique with Christophe Nihan and Matthieu Pellet.

Angelika Lohwasser studied Egyptology, the Archaeology of Sudan, and Arabic Language at
the University of Vienna, Austria. Her thesis discussed the queens of Kush and her habilitation
focused on the cemetery of Sanam, a Napatan non-​royal burial ground.This study was honored
with the Heinz Maier-​Leibnitz Prize of the German Research Foundation. Since 2009 she has
been full Professor for Egyptology at the University of Münster and director of archaeological
fieldwork in the Bayuda desert in Sudan. Her publications deal with various culture-​historical,
historical, and archaeological aspects of the cultures of ancient Sudan and late-​period Egypt.

Irene Madreiter is Assistant Professor of Ancient History in the department of Ancient History
and Ancient Near Eastern Studies, University of Innsbruck, Austria. Her research focuses on
cultural contacts in the Mediterranean, gender in the Achaimenid, Arsakid and Sassanian era,
and Greek perceptions of the “Orient.”

Martina Minas-​Nerpel is Professor of Egyptology at Trier University (Germany) and Director

of the Zentrum der Altertumswissenschaften Trier. Her research interests concentrate on the
religious and cultural history of Egypt, with a focus on the royal ideology of the Ptolemaic and
Roman periods. She co-​directs the Belgian-​German epigraphic mission to Karnak and serves
as the principal investigator of an international team researching the Egyptian temple of Isis at
Shanhur (near Luxor), built and decorated in the first two centuries CE.

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Notes on contributors

Dolores Mirón is Permanent Professor in the Department of Prehistory and Archaeology, and
member of the Institute of Women’s Studies at the University of Granada (Spain). Her research
and publications have been developed within the field of women’s history in classical antiquity
and have focused especially on topics concerning women’s public agency and power, from her
first works on Roman imperial cult to her studies on conflict management in Greece and on
Hellenistic royal women. Her current research is focused on women’s agency and memory in
Hellenistic architecture.

Katrina Moore is currently pursuing her PhD in Classics at the City University of New York
(CUNY). She earned her MA at Clemson University where she wrote her thesis on Octavia
Minor. Her research interests include the intersection of women and gender in the late Roman
republic, the portrayal of women in Roman art, and, more generally, women and power in the
ancient Mediterranean.

Sabine Müller is Professor of Ancient History at Marburg University. Her research focuses
on the Persian empire, Argead Macedonia, the Hellenistic empires, Macedonian royal women,
Lukian, and reception studies. Her publications include the monographs Das hellenistische
Königspaar in der medialen Repräsentation. Ptolemaios II. und Arsinoë II. (2009), Perdikkas II. –​Retter
Makedoniens (2017) and Alexander der Große. Eroberung –​Politik –​Rezeption (2019).

Marek Jan Olbrycht is Professor of History and Ancient Oriental Studies at Rzeszów
University, Poland, and Member of the Oriental Commission of the Polish Academy of Sciences,
Kraków. Formerly he was a member at the School of Historical Studies, Institute for Advanced
Study, Princeton University, and Humboldt Visiting Professor at the University of Münster
(Germany). His focus has been the history of ancient Iran and Central Asia, Alexander the Great,
and ancient warfare. He has published more than 100 articles and several books (including
Parthia et Ulteriores gentes, 1998, and Alexander the Great and the Iranian World, 2004). In 2010, he
established the journal Anabasis. Studia Classica et Orientalia.

Stefan Pfeiffer has been Chair of Ancient History at Martin-​ Luther-​

Universität Halle-​
Wittenberg since 2013. Previously he was Full Professor for “Ancient World and Europe”
at Technische Universität Chemnitz (2010–​13). His areas of specialization are the history of
Greco-​Roman Egypt, ruler cult in antiquity, and Judaism in Alexandria. In addition to other
projects, he has published books on multilingual texts from Egypt (the Decree of Canopus and
the victory stele of C. Cornelius Gallus) and has written a book on emperor cult in Egypt
(2010). In addition, he has published a textbook on Greek and Latin epigraphical records from
Egypt (2015) and also a general overview of the Ptolemaic Empire (2017).

Dimitris Plantzos is Associate Professor of Classical Archaeology at the National and

Kapodistrian University of Athens. A specialist in Greek gem engraving, painting, and classical
reception, he has edited (with T.J. Smith) A Companion to Greek Art (2018), and is the author of
Greek Art and Archaeology, 1200–​30 BC (2016) and The Art of Painting in Ancient Greece (2018).
His current research focuses on modern uses of the classical past, political or other. He is an
Associate Editor of the Journal of Greek Media and Culture and co-​director with D. Damaskos of
the Argos Orestikon Excavation Project.

Stefan Priwitzer has been a Senior Lecturer at the University of Tübingen since 2010. He
studied Ancient and Medieval History, and Classical Archaeology at the Universities of Tübingen

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Notes on contributors

and Bologna (1994–​2000). His PhD dissertation was on the dynastic importance of Faustina
Minor and her literary tradition, supervised by Hildegard Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum and
M. Meier (2006, published 2009). His current research interests include the Roman republic,
early and high empire, and women of the leading class in the Roman republic and empire.

Gillian Ramsey is Assistant Professor of Classical Studies at Campion College at the University
of Regina (Saskatchewan, Canada). She has previously worked at the Universities of Toronto
and Leicester and received her PhD in Classics from the University of Exeter. She has published
research on Hellenistic women’s history and the Seleukid dynasty, including imperial adminis-
tration and queens.

Hanna M. Roisman is Arnold Bernhard Professor in the Arts and Humanities, Emerita,
Colby College, and Junior Fellow at the Harvard Center for Hellenic Studies. She specializes
in Homer, Hesiod, Greek and Roman Tragedy, and in Classics and Film. In addition to articles
and book chapters, she has published Loyalty in Early Greek Epic and Tragedy (1984), Nothing
Is as It Seems: The Tragedy of the Implicit in Euripides’ Hippolytus (1999), Sophocles: Philoctetes
(2005), Sophocles: Electra. A Commentary (forthcoming), and Ancient Greek Tragic Heroines (under
contract). She is co-​author of The Odyssey–​Re-​Formed (1996), Euripides: Alcestis (2003), and
Euripides: Electra (2010); and editor of Encyclopedia of Greek Tragedy (2014) and Sophocles’ Electra
(Oxford Greek and Latin College Commentaries) (2020).

Stephen Ruzicka is Professor of History at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro.

He specializes in Persian, Aegean, and eastern Mediterranean affairs in the period of the
Achaimenid Empire. His publications include Politics of a Persian Dynasty: The Hecatomnids in the
Fourth Century B.C. and Trouble in the West: Egypt and the Persian Empire, 525–​332 BCE., as well
as articles on fourth-​century BCE Athenian imperialism and Philip and Alexander’s political
and military activities.

Lisa Sabbahy is Assistant Professor of Egyptology and Director of the MA Program in

Egyptology and Coptology at the American University in Cairo. She earned a PhD in Egyptian
Archaeology at the University of Toronto. She is particularly interested in ancient Egyptian royal
female titles and iconography of the Old and Middle Kingdoms. Other areas of interest in which
she has presented papers and published extensively are disease in ancient Egypt, anthropoid
clay coffins, and chariots. Sabbahy was editor and co-​author of All Things Ancient Egyptian: An
Encyclopedia of the Ancient Egyptian World (2019). She is currently completing the manuscript of a
book entitled Kingship and Power: A History of the Old Kingdom to the Middle Kingdom.

Christoph Schäfer is Professor of Ancient History at the University of Trier (Germany).

He studied Ancient, Medieval and Modern History and Bibliology at Mainz and Dijon. His
major fields of research are the Hellenistic empires, Roman economic and social history, and
experimental archaeology, in particular the construction of ancient ships. He is the author of
monographs on Eumenes of Kardia (2002) and on Kleopatra VII (2006).

Kordula Schnegg is Associate Professor in the Department of Ancient history and Near
Eastern Studies and Head of the Research Platform Center for Gender Studies Innsbruck,
University of Innsbruck (Austria). She teaches courses in Greek and Roman History and
Gender Studies. Her research interests are social relationships in antiquity (in particular gender
relationships), ancient historiography, the Roman republic and Roman empire.

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Notes on contributors

Rolf Strootman is Associate Professor of History at the University of Utrecht (The

Netherlands). He studies court culture, imperialism and cultural encounters in the Near East,
Iran and Central Asia during the Persian and Hellenistic periods. His most recent publications
include Courts and Elites in the Hellenistic Empires (2014), Persianism in Antiquity (2017), and
Maritime Empires in World History (2019).

Brigitte Truschnegg is Associate Professor in the Department of Ancient History and Near
Eastern Studies, University of Innsbruck (Austria). She studies the perception and description
of cities in Greek and Latin literature (with a focus on sources dealing with Alexander III) and
her research includes gender in ancient historiography as well as the history and archaeology of
the Alpine regions in Roman times.

Athena Van der Perre obtained a PhD in Egyptology at Katholieke Universiteit Leuven
(Belgium), with a dissertation on Amarna Period limestone quarries in the greater Dayr al-​
Barsha region (Middle Egypt). Between 2015 and 2017, she was involved in the Egyptian
Execration Statuettes project at the Royal Museums of Art and History, Brussels. In collabor-
ation with the KU Leuven and the RMAH, she worked on the development and implemen-
tation of the multispectral Portable Light Dome for ancient Egyptian heritage. Currently she
works as a postdoctoral researcher for the EOS project “Pyramids & Progress,” and as a teaching
assistant at the KU Leuven.

Anja Wieber, formerly Lecturer in Ancient History at the Universities of Bochum and Essen, is
now an independent scholar and a member of IMAGINES, an international network focusing
on modern receptions of antiquity in the visual and performing arts. Her research interests
are women’s history and gender studies in antiquity, ancient slavery, the history of education,
and reception studies. In the last field she has specialized in the representation of antiquity in
different cinematic genres.With Filippo Carlà-​Uhink she has recently co-​edited Orientalism and
the Reception of Powerful Women from the Ancient World (2020).

Josef Wiesehöfer studied History, Indo-​European Linguistics, and Near Eastern Archaeology
at the University of Münster, where he took his PhD in 1977, with a thesis on the early years
of Darius I (sixth century BCE). In 1988, he was awarded the habilitation at the University of
Heidelberg (with a work on Southwestern Iran in Early Hellenistic times). From 1989 to 2016
he was Professor of Ancient History at the University of Kiel and Director of its “Institute of
Classics.” His main scholarly interests lie in the history of the ancient Near East (especially Pre-​
Islamic Iran) and in the history of scholarship.

Julia Wilker is Associate Professor of Classical Studies at the University of Pennsylvania. Her
main research interests include the history of Hellenistic–​Roman Judea and inter-​state relations
in late classical and Hellenistic times. She is particularly interested in forms of dynastic rule,
concepts of normativity, and transcultural contexts in the ancient world. Her publications
include studies of the Hasmonean and Herodian dynasties, the role of dynastic women in
Hellenistic and Roman Judea, Flavius Josephus, and Roman–​Jewish relations. She has also
published several articles on concepts of inter-​state relations in classical Greece and (co-​)edited
volumes on strategies of peace-​keeping in archaic and classical Greece, Roman client-​kingship,
and classical reception.

xviii
1

PART I

Women and monarchy in the

ancient Mediterranean
2
3

1
INTRODUCTION TO THINKING
ABOUT WOMEN AND
MONARCHY IN THE
ANCIENT WORLD
Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller

This companion brings together chapters about the role of women in monarchy in the ancient
Mediterranean world. Many more topics, periods, and cultures could have been included, but
the current collection introduces the reader to some of the vast number of approaches possible.
In the last 20 years, scholarship in this area has dramatically increased, particularly in the field
of reception of ancient royal women, as well as studies of their spheres of action and roles in
the political structures of their time. However, until now, no one work has attempted to bring
together research on royal women from such a wide span of time and so many ancient cultures.
Only some of the papers in this volume are overtly comparative, but the collection itself is
inherently so. When chapters overlap in coverage, readers will note considerable variation in
interpretation of extant evidence. We hope that reading about a topic or issue in terms of one
monarchy may stimulate consideration of that topic for other periods and cultures.
“Monarchy” (Greek: monarchia), refers to governments in which one person rules
(Greek: monos and archein); it usually signifies hereditary rule by one person. In practice, how-
ever, monarchy necessarily involves/​requires a royal family, sometimes quite an extended royal
clan. The royal family typically plays a vital role at moments of transition from one ruler to
another and obviously provides additional rulers upon the disappearance or ineligibility of the
current ruler, but it also extends and publicizes rule and helps those ruled to understand and
connect to the ruler. Whereas sole women rulers were rare and even women who co-​ruled
comparatively so, women of ruling families in ancient monarchies played many parts, large and
small, in the administration, self-​representation, and continuation of the rule of families.
Granted that this is a book about the functions and activities of women in ancient mon-
archies, one might wonder why so many of the chapters discuss the situation of women in
the context of dynasties defined by descent (not infrequently fictional) from a male ancestor,
though sometimes from a male and a female progenitor. Dynastic labels are arbitrary, but they
often color and organize scholarship. They can be useful, so long as one does not assume that
female descent is irrelevant or even automatically less important.
Historians are both limited and inspired by their sources. At many periods and in many
situations, the role of women in events in our sources is muted and we are further distanced
from understanding their role by the dominance of narrative sources written many centuries
and cultures removed from the persons and events they describe, sources making judgments

3
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Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller

on the basis of values and expectations alien to those of the place and period they portray.
Such narratives may personalize a royal woman’s motivation and focus on women’s sexuality.
Also, works of literature, ones not based in a specific historic period or situation (e.g. tragedy
or epic), nonetheless shape beliefs about historic women and monarchy. Documentary sources
have assumptions of their own, but they are, at least, based in the period and culture these
women inhabited. Literary sources, nonetheless, have tended to prevail in terms of the recep-
tion of the role of women in ancient monarchies. Orientalism often colors reception of these
women, not just those connected to cultures Europeans might categorize as “Eastern,” but even
those they would see as “Western.” Just as in the case of the pejorative depictions of “tyrants”
as “bad” (or “wrong”) rulers, when elements of Greek stock images of eastern (particularly
Persian) kings perceived as tyrants and adopted by Roman authors were applied to individual
Greek, Macedonian or Roman political actors, such stereotypical topoi about decadent and sin-
ister behavior could be applied to literary portraits of Greek, Macedonian, or Roman women.
Significantly, many of these stereotypical elements (such as bloodthirstiness, cruelty, insatiable
greed for power, immoderation, etc.) come from the reservoir of Greek topoi of the “tyrant” as
a negative political role model.
Popular culture and scholarship long reflected this hostile and stereotypical literary treatment
of royal women. More recent theoretical approaches (feminist theory and Gender Studies, but
also court studies, post-​colonial studies, and others) help us to recognize these biases generated
in ancient times, but perhaps the most insidious problem lies in our unconscious assumptions
that more recent monarchies familiar to us (medieval, early modern, and particularly recent
British monarchy) are both normative and natural. In addition, we are also influenced by the
norms and values of what we call the “collective memory” or “cultural memory” inevitably
colored by earlier stereotypical perceptions of royal women.
Employing terms like “queen” or “princess” (and their equivalents in other languages)
without explaining how they apply in a given culture can be deceptive, particularly since these
terms are often applied both to women who were married to kings and to women who ruled,
to women who had titles (not necessarily ones with straightforward equivalents in modern
languages) and to those who had none. A Google search for “queen” will produce a number
of sites devoted to the old rock group and many pictures of Elizabeth II of Britain, whereas
looking for “princess” will yield Disney images and some pictures from fairy tales (these are,
admittedly, not mutually exclusive categories). Indeed, as this might suggest, “princess” often
has an almost diminutive force, whereas being a king’s daughter (or sister) was in many ancient
circumstances a powerful and empowering rank.
Women participated in ancient monarchy in various ways. One of them was certainly
through their marriages. Although, more often than not, someone else chose whom a woman
would marry (this tended to be less true of widows), it would be a mistake to assume that royal
women always functioned merely as tokens in an alliance, whether foreign or domestic. Many
women did, so far as we can tell, prove to be little more than tokens (though the simple scar-
city of sources may leave us with a misleading picture), but many others did not. Women could
and did function as diplomats, perpetuating and sometimes altering the nature of the original
alliance. Consanguineous marriages reinforced familial ties and limited the development of rival
branches of royal families. Close-​kin marriages, particularly sibling marriages, did not necessarily,
especially in the short term, empower the women in such couples, but typically they generated
a kind of parallelism that, however superficial initially, worked to empower women long-​term,
primarily by incorporating them into the articulation of royal power in that particular culture.
In some monarchies and/​or dynasties, women played an important role in the presenta-
tion of the dynastic or monarchic image, often in the context of evolving traditions, political

4
5

Introduction

structures, and institutions. Their images and actions could contribute to public understanding
and allegiance to a ruling family; honors allotted them could symbolize continuity with the past
and act to stabilize dynastic power. Women could be understood to embody the entire dynasty
or some part of its immediate or distant past and to generate a picture of the strength and unity
of the dynasty. Women’s participation in public ceremony could enlarge or nuance the dynastic
footprint. Though very few women actually led military forces, their appearance in company
with an army, perhaps because they would not (ordinarily) themselves engage in combat, could
be a powerful force binding an army to the dynasty.
As this might suggest, royal women often functioned to legitimate a dynasty or an individual
ruler or policy. Naturally, a variety of understandings of legitimacy developed over time and
in differing cultures. Sometimes a woman’s ability to legitimate depended on her line of des-
cent, particularly if the direct male line had died out, but also if her family was understood as
more impressive and prestigious or ancient than that of her husband. Occasionally the woman’s
personal prestige could serve to legitimate those she supported. Royal widows, somehow sub-
suming their husbands’ prestige and authority, could legitimate subsequent rulers.
Royal women’s religious role often played an important role in the dynastic image and
the legitimation of a dynasty. Some women were religious patrons, whereas others themselves
received cult whether individually or as part of a dynastic cult. Royal women were some-
times understood to embody a divinity, even believed to be impregnated by one; their divine
attributes could align with the interests of the dynasty. Parallelism of male and female roles in
terms of divinization advanced a wider understanding of dynastic rule. A king’s mother not only
often functioned as a protector during a period of transition from the rule of her husband to
that of her son, but could also play a religious role in terms of patronage and cult that tended
to institutionalize and perpetuate that role. Even dead members of a dynasty could continue
to serve their house as ideological symbols and figureheads when they were posthumously
venerated as now omnipresent deities caring for the welfare of their dynasty and its realm.
Generally, we should assume the possibility of royal women’s agency, rather than assume the
opposite (as has been done in the past). Too often the absence of evidence about women has
been understood as proof that they did not act, rather than as proof that we do not know if
they did or not. Lack of evidence should not drive assumptions about royal norms, though its
absence should be noted, particularly if this absence happens over a long period of time. On the
other hand, we should also be aware of our own preconceptions: doubtless some women did
indeed exercise little or no agency. Many variables shaped an individual woman’s ability to act
on the dynastic and public stage.
Many royal women could own property, giving them the ability to have employees (civil
and military) independently of their fathers or husbands, enabling them to create a policy
different or at least distinct from their male kin, and to act diplomatically (gift-​g iving was
important), in person or via correspondence. Royal women sometimes served as patrons of
shrines, festivals, and cults; such patronage suggests that they served as employers of architects,
artists, and performers.
Whether or not individual petitioners had direct access to women or whether they
petitioned through correspondence or a woman’s agents, royal women were often an important
point of access to rulers and were sometimes delegated to deal with certain tasks, especially in
monarchies covering great distances. Because of their personal access to the ruler, they could
function as intercessors.
Court studies, even in the absence of specific evidence, have enabled us to picture some
of the complexity of court functioning and women’s actions and duties at court. Significantly,
many narrative sources, though grounded in stereotypical expectations about female behavior

5
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Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller

(seduction, poisoning, plotting), simply assume that royal women regularly employed the court
circumstance (proximity to the king and other members of the royal family and court officials)
to their own ends. It will also have been in the interest of the ruler to have them present in order
to share the task of dynastic representation.
Many women could be present at a ruler’s court, including the mother of the king, his
sisters, and daughters. Rulers often had multiple wives and concubines. Sometimes formal titles
effectively ranked these women, whereas in other cases ranking was situational and ephemeral;
in either case, a level of negotiation was basic to the situation of each woman. Rival factions
at court might favor different royal women (not simply one wife over another but also, for
example, a royal mother over a royal wife). Many ancient courts were itinerant, a fact that tended
to increase the intensity of dealings within the court, and also increased the access of petitioners.
Royal women had their own supporters/​courtiers and factions. Male and female courtiers
intrigued and often conspired against rulers and/​or each other.
Our sources often attribute such actions solely or primarily to women and their conspiring
was often supposed to relate to their sexuality. Focus on a woman’s sexuality, however, was not
always destructive or dangerous for a royal woman’s career. A royal woman’s sexuality could
play a part in her role in cult, especially if that cult associated her with a goddess connected to
erotic power. A woman’s fertility, the consequence of her sexual relationship with a husband,
often played a critical part in her image and that of the dynasty; if she did not bear children, she
was vulnerable. Bearing many children not only provided many potential heirs and actors in
alliances but also contributed to a dynastic image, perhaps demonstrating divine favor.
Our sources frequently assert that a royal woman, most often a royal mother, played an
important, even decisive role in the succession. Experience, in women’s natal courts (to which
they sometimes returned) and in the ones they came to by marriage, provided expertise and
confidence that enabled them to rule if necessary, or to act in support of the rule of sons or
other male kin. In many cases, we see that being the mother of a king brought a woman more
power and influence than being the wife of a king, thus incentivizing a royal mother’s advocacy
of her son’s succession. In other cases, mothers and sons, rather than collaborating to ensure the
son’s succession, worked against each other, either because the mother hoped to rule longer
herself or because she favored another son. In some cases, a royal woman was able to serve for-
mally as her son or sons’ guardian and/​or regent, but even when we have no evidence that she
did, her advocacy could still have been crucial.
As we have noted, women rarely ruled, especially on their own. Granted that so many
monarchs were also war leaders, at least symbolically, the fact that women were generally
excluded from direct participation in warfare is certainly an important reason why they rarely
ruled. Several circumstances increased the likelihood that a woman would rule or co-​rule: the
absence of male heirs, the fact that the obvious heir to the throne was a minor, or a pre-​existing
tradition of co-​rule. An understanding of female members of a royal family as co-​rulers with
husbands or male kin often began as a means to legitimize a new dynasty, but once initiated,
such a practice sometimes led to the growth of actual power for royal women, sometimes
including independent rule.
A word about the organizing practices of this volume. Each chapter has a bibliography of its
own. Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents are those used by
the Oxford Classical Dictionary. You can get to the list of abbreviations online at https://​oxfordre.
com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​.
Readers should note that numbers associated with royal women apply only to the dynasty/
​monarchy under discussion and are sometimes different in different chapters. There were, for
instance, many women named “Stratonike” in a number of different kingdoms; the same woman,

6
7

Introduction

moving from the kingdom of her birth to that of her marriage might, in different chapters, have
different numbers. The index will refer to individual women by parentage (most often patro-
nymic but sometimes a matronymic as well), or failing that, by a woman’s relationship to a ruler
(e.g. mother of a named ruler). The spelling of Greek names is not anglicized unless the indi-
vidual is famous under the anglicized version (e.g. Alexander the Great, not Alexandros).
The volume spans from the ancient eastern civilizations to late antiquity and ends with an
examination of some aspects of the reception of royal women in ancient and modern times. It
tries to provide overviews of current scholarship about the spheres of action of royal women in
the ancient Mediterranean world, as well as some chapters discussing specific issues. The focus
is on an historical approach, but the volume also includes archaeological, art historical, and
philological studies.
Putting this volume together has been a fascinating but demanding task.Various life events,
sad and happy, prevented some of our intended contributors from participating, but what is
presented here suggests some of the wide variety of existing approaches to the role of women
in ancient monarchies and, we hope, inspires others to develop new ones.

7
8
9

PART II

Egypt and the Nile Valley

10
11

2
THE KING’S MOTHER IN THE
OLD AND MIDDLE KINGDOMS
Lisa Sabbahy

This study presents and discusses the king’s mother in the periods of the Old and Middle
Kingdoms in ancient Egypt. The Old Kingdom covers the Third to the Eighth Dynasties, but
for the period of the Seventh and Eighth Dynasties there is little evidence and none relevant
to this discussion. For the Old Kingdom, the time covered here is roughly 2686 BCE to 2181
BCE, or a period of just over five hundred years.1 The Middle Kingdom covers the period of
the early Eleventh Dynasty to the end of the Thirteenth Dynasty.There is little evidence for the
history of the Thirteenth Dynasty, and none for kings’ mothers, so this discussion will stop with
the end of the Twelfth Dynasty. The time covered is roughly from 2055 BCE to 1777 BCE, a
period of about 275 years.
The importance of the king’s mother in ancient Egypt began as soon as its history did. In the
Palermo Stone, a damaged recording of the reigns of the kings of Egypt from the First Dynasty
down to the middle of the Fifth Dynasty, when the inscription stops, the names of three kings’
mothers of the First Dynasty (3000–​2890 BCE) are written after that of their sons. Manetho
states in his Aegyptiaka, a history of Egypt written much later, in the reign of Ptolemy II, that in
the Second Dynasty (2890–​2686 BCE), women were allowed to rule.2 Egyptologists have evi-
dence from the First Dynasty that a king’s mother named Meretneith seems to have ruled for
her young son, Den, as her name was included with her title of king’s mother in a list of kings’
names that was found at Abydos.3 Meretneith also had a tomb at Um el-​Ga’ab, the cemetery of
the First and Second Dynasty kings at Abydos, next to that of Djet, her husband, and near the
tomb of her son, Den.4 She also has a funerary “fort” or enclosure used for rituals, like every
king.5 Meretneith’s ruling for her son is probably the type of situation to which Manetho was
referring, when he said women were allowed to rule.6
There are instances of the king’s mother acting as a regent in later dynasties, such as the
mother of Pepy II, of the Sixth Dynasty (2345–​2181 BCE), who will be discussed in detail
below (see p. 14), that show that the king’s mother ruled if the king was a child and too young.
The king’s mother never had a title that reflected the status of regent, probably because anything
that compromised the position of the king was unthinkable. Scholars must determine a regency
based on archaeological evidence or depictions that reflect this type of status for a king’s mother,
rather than written evidence.

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Lisa Sabbahy

The prominent position of the king’s mother comes from her role of passing on the divine
birthright to her son, so that he is legitimate as king. Otto studied the legitimacy of kingly rule
in ancient Egypt, and concluded that it was based on three things: the king’s birthright, the king’s
effectiveness, and the myths that support the power and position of the king.7 It is in birthright
that the king’s mother played such a prominent role.There are no depictions of the divine birth
of a king from the Old or Middle Kingdoms, but there are two temple scenes showing this
known from the Eighteenth Dynasty (1550–​1295 BCE) of the New Kingdom. One is at the
temple of Hatshepsut at Deir el-​Bahari on the West Bank at Luxor, and the other, slightly later, is
at Luxor Temple, on the West Bank, which depicts the divine birth of Amenhotep III. Both are
very similar. In Hatshepsut’s divine birth, her mother Ahmose is sitting on a bed, supported by
the goddesses Neith and Selket, with the god Amen-​Ra, who has appeared to her in the guise
of her husband, Tuthmose I. Amen holds “the breath of life,” an ankh symbol, up to Ahmose’s
nose as well as putting one in her hand.8 After that, other scenes show the god Khnum forming
Hatshepsut and her ka or soul on the potter’s wheel, Ahmose being led in to give birth, and the
baby and her ka being presented to her father Amen-​Ra and the assembled gods and goddesses.9
There is a rock-​cut scene from the early Middle Kingdom reign of Mentuhotep II (2055–​
2004 BCE) that reflects the fact that he has legitimacy based on a divine birth. At Schatt er-​
Rigal, in Upper Egypt north of Gebel el-​Silsila on the West Bank, a large figure of Mentuhotep
II stands facing his father, Intef III, and the high official Khety, both depicted on a much smaller
scale than the king. Behind the king stands “the king’s mother whom he loves, I’h,” on a scale
smaller than all the other figures.10 The king wears a double crown and holds the staff and mace.
His father wears a nemes head cloth, worn only by kings, with a uraeus, a rearing cobra worn over
the king’s forehead. His mother holds a staff with a lotus bud in one hand, and a lotus flower in
the other. The lotus is a symbol of birth and rebirth, because it is connected to the birth of the
young sun god who came forth from a lotus.11 In the inscription above Intef III, he is given the
title “god’s father,” and this is what matters.12 This title means that his son is divine, having been
produced by a sacred marriage between his wife and the sun god.13 The lotus flower held by his
mother symbolizes the birth of the young son of the sun.
The earliest evidence for the title “king’s mother” is in the titles given to Nymaathap, the
wife of King Khasekhemwy in the Second Dynasty, where it appears on a granite bowl and
a clay sealing.14 This title occurs on the sealing with another title, one always belonging to a
king’s mother, “anything she says is done for her.”This title makes a clear statement of her status
and power. By the Old Kingdom there is a set of titles for the king’s mother: “king’s mother,”
“god’s daughter,” “anything she says is done for her,” and sometimes “follower of Horus.”15 In
the title “god’s daughter,” “god” refers to her father, the deceased king. This title is important
as it indicates that she belongs in the line of royal descent. In the Middle Kingdom, the title
“king’s mother” is still used, but it is not used in association with the titles “god’s daughter” and
“Follower of Horus;” they cease with the Old Kingdom, and the title “anything she says is done
for her” becomes rare.16
Along with titles, the king’s mother in the Old Kingdom also had a set iconographic fea-
ture: she wore a vulture headdress, something like a cap, on her head. The head of the vulture
is over her forehead, like the uraeus on the king, and when it is depicted in relief, protrudes out
horizontally. The wings of the vulture spread down the side of her head, and the talons of the
vulture hold shen signs, which have the meaning “to surround” in a protective way.The vulture’s
tail goes down her back but when shown in relief, it protrudes horizontally, like the vulture’s
head at the front.
The earliest evidence for this headdress comes from statue fragments found in the Fourth
Dynasty pyramid complex of King Khafra (2558–​2532 BCE) at Giza and they may well have

12
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The king’s mother

come from a statue of his wife, Khamerernebty I, who was mother of his son and successor,
King Menkaura.17 Perhaps the best example of a vulture headdress is the one on the alabaster
statuette of Queen Ankhenespepy II with her son, King Pepy II (2278–​2184), sitting on her lap
(Brooklyn Museum 39.119).18 There is a hole in her forehead where the vulture head would
have been added, probably in gold. The provenance of the piece is not known.
Goddesses are often shown with vulture headdresses in the Old Kingdom, so the king’s
mother might have taken on this symbol because of its connection with divinity; the title “god’s
daughter” might make the king’s mother entitled to this headdress. Another reason for the
king’s mother to take on the vulture headdress is that the ancient Egyptian word for mother
was mwt, and it is written with the hieroglyphic sign of a vulture, as the word for vulture is also
mwt. Probably for that reason the vulture was considered a symbol of maternity.19 In the Middle
Kingdom, all royal women and goddesses can be found wearing the vulture headdress, so its use
is no longer restricted to the king’s mother.
Particularly in the later Old Kingdom, kings set up ka-​chapels, or soul chapels for themselves
at different temple locations not only to spread their cult, and as a statement of their power
throughout the provinces, but also to make a royal investment that helped these temples become
economic centers, with ties to the royal house.20 Land, such as an estate or farm, was granted to
the ka-​chapel with workers and animals to produce the foodstuffs for the offerings to the king’s
ka as well as for the provincial temple and its priests. King Pepy I (2321–​2287 BCE) set up a
number of ka-​chapels for himself, as well as one at the temple of the god Min at Coptos for his
mother, Iput. He also issued a decree protecting the land he granted to his mother’s ka-​chapel,
the workers and the animals, from ever being used by anyone for any purpose other than to
supply his mother’s cult, and the temple of Min.21
There is also evidence for a statue cult of two sisters who were kings’ mothers. Pepy I married
two sisters from an elite family from Abydos in Upper Egypt; they may well have been royal
relatives. Both of the sisters carried the name Ankhenespepy, and so Egyptologists refer to them
as Ankhenespepy I and II. Ankhenespepy I gave birth to Merenra (2287–​2278 BCE), who
followed his father Pepy I on the throne, and when he died after a somewhat short reign, Pepy
I’s son by the second sister, Ankhenespepy II, Pepy II (2278–​2184 BCE), took the throne.
Scholars know about a statue cult Pepy II established at Abydos, associated with the temple
of the god Khentymentiu, because he issued a decree to protect the land and workers belonging
to the cult. The decree states that the cult chapel has a statue of him, his mother, his aunt, and
his uncle, who was vizier at that time. Until fairly recently there was only the decree inscription
to prove the existence of this statue cult chapel, but now fragments from the lintel of the chapel
have been identified and published.22
Somewhat earlier in the Fifth Dynasty, the king’s mother Khentkaues II had perhaps as
many as 16 statues of herself, and also goddesses, in decorated naoi, or shrines, in the mortuary
temple of her small pyramid complex at Abusir.23 This display of statues is unusual for a royal
female and comparable to a statue cult for a king. The statues are not preserved, but fragments
of the naoi were found, as well as fragments of a papyrus, which had drawings of the statues with
instructions for the rituals to be carried out on them. It would appear that they were not daily
rituals, but done on festival days.
Khentkaues was the mother of King Raneferef, who only ruled for a couple of years, and
King Nyuserra (2445–​2421 BCE), his brother, who succeeded him on the throne. Nyuserra
was responsible for finishing the last phase of the construction on his mother’s pyramid com-
plex, and probably responsible also for the statuary and naoi, inset with faience and painted to
resemble lapis lazuli and gold, as he had the same work with wood and faience done in his
brother’s mortuary temple. In inscriptional evidence from her pyramid complex, Khentkaues II

13
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Lisa Sabbahy

had the title “king’s mother” in inscriptions dating to the second building phase of her pyramid,
which was done by her son Raneferef, and “mother of the two kings of Upper and Lower
Egypt,” indicating that two of her sons ruled, in the documents from the third building phase
under Nyuserra.24 Brother to brother succession was not unknown, and had happened before
in the Fourth Dynasty when Khafra followed his brother Djedefra as king.
Another woman with the title “mother of the two kings of Upper and Lower Egypt” lived
at the end of the Fourth Dynasty/​beginning of the Fifth Dynasty. She was Khentkaues I. Her
tomb is at Giza near the valley temple of the pyramid of King Menkaura. On the granite door
jambs of her chapel, her titulary is more complete. She is: “mother of two Kings of Upper and
Lower Egypt,” “god’s daughter,” and “anything that she orders is done for her.”25 A fragment in
the chapel of her pyramid preserves the title “king’s daughter.”26 There is no evidence for who
her father was, or her husband, and scholars disagree on the identity of her two sons. Lehner and
Hawass suggest that Khentkaues could have been the mother of Khafra and Menkaura, or else
Menkaura and Shepseskaf.27 Verner suggests that she is the sister of Menkaura, and the mother
of Shepseskaf and Userkaf.28 This last option seems the more logical.
The beginning of the Fifth Dynasty has traditionally been tied to one of the stories of the
Westcar Papyrus, in which the wife of a priest of the sun god gives birth to triplets fathered by
Ra. Since the children had a divine father, goddesses came to help with the birth, and as each
male child was born, one of the goddesses announced that he would be king over the land.29
Since 1890, when the Westcar papyrus was first published, many histories of ancient Egypt
have interpreted this story quite literally, stating that the first three kings of the Fifth Dynasty,
Userkaf, Sahura, and Neferirkara, were brothers who were born as triplets.30 This situation is
no longer accepted as historical since there is evidence now to show that these three kings
were not brothers. It is possible, however, that the Westcar Papyrus story reflects the situation of
Khentkaues I, who does appear to have been the mother of two kings at the approximate time
that the Fourth Dynasty came to an end and the Fifth Dynasty began.
Ankhenespepy II is a king’s mother for whom a fair amount of evidence, comparatively
speaking, is preserved. Sometimes, not often, she is given the name, Ankhenesmeryra, using
the crown name instead of the birth name of her husband as part of her name, but it is not yet
understood why.31 When all the material from her pyramid complex is published, this might
become clear. She was the daughter of Khui and Nebet, an elite couple living in Abydos. She
and her sister both became wives of King Pepy I, perhaps at the same time, or close to the
same time.32 Her sister gave birth to a son who became King Merenra, the successor to Pepy I,
although he seems to have ruled for at most ten years; Ankhenespepy II gave birth to Pepy II,
who became king after the death of Merenra. There are still a number of questions about the
royal succession at this time, concerned with whether or not Merenra had a co-​regency with
his father, and how old he might have been when he ruled. Merenra is known to have had two
wives, his sister Neith, and his aunt, Ankhenespepy II, which means, of course, that Pepy I must
have died by then. When Merenra dies, Ankhenespepy II’s son, Pepy II, takes the throne. Based
on Manetho, according to Eusebius, Pepy II was supposed to have been only 6 years old when
he took the throne33 and so, because of his young age, his mother ruled as regent. This might
mean that Pepy I died when Ankhenespepy II was pregnant with or had just given birth to Pepy
II. Evidence for her marrying Merenra is on a block from her pyramid complex that gives her
the title “king’s wife” along with the name of Merenra.34 Sibling marriages are fairly common
in the Fourth Dynasty of the Old Kingdom and in the Middle Kingdom, but this may be the
only aunt–​nephew marriage for which we have evidence.35
A visual statement of Ankhenespepy II’s position as regent can be seen in the alabaster statu-
ette in the Brooklyn Museum (39.119), discussed on p. 13 in connection with the vulture

14
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The king’s mother

headdress. The statuette portrays the queen sitting on a throne with her young son, the king,
sitting across on her lap with his feet on a second throne perpendicular to hers. The throne
block on which the king has his feet carries a vertical inscription with his crown name, followed
by the phrase “beloved of Khnum,” which is also placed right before the name of his mother.36
The reference to the god Khnum would seem to suggest that the piece came from a temple or
chapel at Elephantine where this god’s cult was based.
Other evidence for Pepy II’s mother as regent comes from a rock inscription at Maghara
in the Sinai, dating to the second year of the count (the biennial cattle count that was used
for purposes of taxation), which should be the fourth regnal year of the king.37 The com-
plete titulary of the king is given, along with the titles of his mother, who is named as both
a “king’s mother” and a “king’s wife.” Her name uses the form of Ankhenesmeryra here, not
Ankhenespepy, and is followed by a small depiction of the queen standing with what seems like
a lotus in one hand, and an ankh-​symbol in the other.
The pyramid complex of Ankhenespepy II was discovered in the southwest corner of a
complex of seven queens’ pyramids located at King Pepy’s pyramid complex. Ankhenespepy
II’s pyramid is by far the largest. A massive, red granite lintel from the doorway into the pillared
court of her mortuary temple was found, and it gives her name and the title “king’s mother” on
the left side, and the name of Pepy II is on the right.38 In her pyramid complex are architectural
details and relief decoration that are not usually found in the tomb complex of a royal woman.
Like the pyramid complexes of kings and of the wife of King Djedkara of the end of the Fifth
Dynasty, Ankhenespepy II’s complex has an antichambre carrée, normally a space found only in
kings’ complexes.39 This is a square chamber with one central pillar, seemingly always decorated
with wall relief scenes of divinities, or divine processions greeting the king. Damaged blocks
from Ankhenespepy’s mortuary temple have been able to be reassembled enough to show that
there was a scene of Ankhenespepy II, standing in a papyrus skiff, pulling on papyrus stalks in a
ritual known as sesh wadj, which is done for the goddess Hathor who liked the calming sound
of rustling papyri. This ritual also had symbolic meaning associated with being reborn in the
afterlife.40 An interesting detail in the scene is that Ankhenespepy II stands in the skiff, not with
her legs together, the way a woman does in ancient Egyptian art, but with them separated, as
if she is taking a step; this is typical of males in ancient Egyptian art. In the Fourth Dynasty,
in the mastaba of Meresankh, a king’s wife and her mother, also a king’s wife, are standing in
a skiff, pulling on papyrus stalks in the same ritual; both of them have their legs together.41
Ankhenespepy II’s stance seems to make a statement of masculinity, in that she fulfilled a “male”
role when she functioned as king.
When the remaining structure of Ankhenespepy’s pyramid was uncovered, the burial
chamber was a cavity with its walls destroyed.42 The burial chamber had been partially
decorated with a serekh-​façade motif (the crenelated design of the wall of the royal palace)
and also with Pyramid Texts, written with hieroglyphs retaining traces of green color. Quite a
number of fragments were found, and parts of walls with texts reconstructed.43 A dark stone
sarcophagus was also found in the burial chamber with skeletal remains of a mature adult
female.44 A line of inscription incised on the top of Ankhenespepy II’s sarcophagus gives her
the titles “Daughter of Geb” and “Daughter of Nut.” Titles of divine filiation, that is, naming
someone the son or daughter of a god or goddess are known from ancient Egypt, and they
seem to indicate a position of rank or importance, although in this case, the titles might have a
purely funerary meaning, as at the beginning of King Pepy’s Pyramid Texts, where somewhat
similar statements are made.45
Ankhenespepy II appears to be the first royal woman to have Pyramid Texts in her pyramid.
Pyramid Texts were found for the first time in the Pyramid of King Unas (2375–​2345 BCE)

15
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Lisa Sabbahy

at the end of the Fifth Dynasty. The purpose of the spells in these texts were to “enable the
deceased to become an akh,” which literally means an “effective” being who could have eternal
life.46 The fact that Ankhenespepy II was given these texts is a reflection of the status and
importance she had attained as regent. Clearly her pyramid complex was completed in the
reign of her son, since she would only get the title “king’s mother” once her son was crowned,
and he must have had a role in deciding the details of his mother’s burial, including the use of
Pyramid Texts.
Much less evidence on the king’s mother is preserved from the Middle Kingdom than is
known from the Old Kingdom. In the early Middle Kingdom, the Eleventh Dynasty (2125–​2055
BCE), we have the names of each of the three kings’ mothers, but for one of them, the mother
of Mentuhotep IV, all we know is that she was named Imi.47 The mother of Mentuhotep II, I’h,
was discussed on p. 12 in relation to the Schatt er-​Rigal rock-​cut scene showing Mentuhotep
II’s divine birth. I’h’s name was also found on two shabti-​figures in the tomb of Mentuhotep
II’s wife, Neferu. “Neferu born of I’h” was written on them in hieratic.48 That means that
Mentuhotep II married his sister, a practice that was common in the Fourth Dynasty, but not
later in the Old Kingdom. Neferu seems to have been the most important wife of Mentuhotep
II, based on her titles and her very large and beautifully decorated tomb, but the king also had
another wife, Tem, and she was the mother of his son, Mentuhotep III. Tem’s tomb was at the
end of a passageway (parallel to the passageway to her husband’s tomb), that had been cut down
into the rock at the back of the sanctuary of the temple of Mentuhotep II at Deir el-​Bahari. Her
titles were found on her sarcophagus and on a fragment of a limestone offering table, discovered
in the rubble of the hypostyle hall.49 Her titles are “king’s mother,” “king’s wife whom he loves,”
“great of praise,” and “great of affection,” a mixture of titles for a king’s wife and king’s mother,
typical of the Old Kingdom.
At the end of the Eleventh Dynasty, the vizier Amenemhat seems to have seized the throne
from Mentuhotep IV, and begun a new dynasty’s rule, the Twelfth Dynasty. Little is known
about him or the actual events of this transition, but a later literary text, The Prophecy of Neferti,
written in the Eighteenth Dynasty of the New Kingdom, but set in the Fourth Dynasty at the
time of King Sneferu, describes a future in which Egypt will have a time of civil strife, disorder,
and foreign invasion. “Then a king will come from the South, Ameny, the justified, by name, son
of a woman of Ta-​seti, child of Upper Egypt.”50 Ameny is the short name for Amenemhat, and
Ta-​seti refers to Nubia. The only other evidence we have for Amenemhat I’s mother is a lime-
stone offering table (Metropolitan Museum of Art 22.1.21) which was reused at a later settle-
ment at Lisht, the site of Amenemhat’s pyramid complex.51 The inscription, which is the same
on each side of the offering table, gives the offering formula for the “hereditary noblewoman”
(a title used by royal women in the Middle Kingdom), “king’s mother,” Nefert.
Amenemhat was assassinated in year 30 of his reign, and succeeded by his son, Senusret
I (1956–​1911 BCE). The wife of Amenemhat I, and mother of Senusret I, is only known from
an inscription on a statuette in the Louvre, copied by Champollion before it disappeared in
1830; it gave her name, and the titles “king’s wife” and “king’s mother.”52 The evidence for
Neferu, sister and wife of Senusret I, being the mother of his successor, Amenemhat II, is just
as slight. Some fragments of a black granite seated statue of Neferu, found near her pyramid
located on the southeast corner of her husband’s pyramid at Lisht, gives her titles of “king’s
daughter,” “king’s wife,” and “king’s mother.”53 There does not seem to be any evidence for the
mother of Amenemhat II’s successor, Senusret II, or any evidence about how they were related.
The mother of his successor, Senusret III (1870–​1831 BCE), is known, however, from fragments
of a quartzite triad found at Ahnas el-​Medineh, a papyrus, and a small subsidiary pyramid at
Dahshur, the site of her son’s pyramid complex. The king’s mother, Weret I, is named in a

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The king’s mother

papyrus from Lahun, dating from regnal year 9 of Senusret III, listing the members of the family
of Senusret II and their cult statues.54 Egyptologists name her Weret I to distinguish her from
the wife of Senusret III, who has the same name, and is referred to as Weret II.
Three different times in the document, Weret I has the titles: “king’s wife,” “king’s mother,”
and “khenmet-​nefer-​hedjet.”This last title is known first in the reign of Amenemhat II, and is prob-
ably best translated as “She who is joined to the White Crown.”55 The title is used by various
royal women in the later Twelfth Dynasty, and so can be found with the name of a princess,
king’s wife, or king’s mother. Some Egyptologists interpret this title as a female name, not a title,
but this author disagrees. The exact same titles of Weret I, as on the papyrus document, were
found on the fragments of the statue base of King Senusret III from Ahnas el-​Medineh, with his
mother standing on one side of him, and his wife on the other.56
The pyramid complex of Senusret III is located at Dahshur, just northeast from the nor-
thern pyramid of King Sneferu. In an enclosed area around the pyramid of the king on the
north and south sides are smaller subsidiary pyramids; four small ones on the north side, and
three slightly larger on the south. Not all of these small pyramids have been identified, but that
of the king’s mother Weret I, is P8 on the south side.57 It does not seem to have been used for
a burial, however, as De Morgan found only canopic equipment in it, but does not mention
if anything was found in the canopic jars.58 Canopic jars were used to hold the embalmed
lung, liver, stomach, and intestines, which were removed from the body during mummification.
Stünkel has suggested this canopic burial was a cenotaph, as King Senusret III was not buried
in this pyramid, but in Abydos, and it is more likely that Weret I would have been buried by her
husband’s pyramid at Lahun.59 Arnold brings up the point that in the later Twelfth Dynasty it
is typical to have “separation of the canopic deposit and the sarcophagus,” and although exca-
vation has not yet uncovered a shaft leading to a burial chamber for Weret I, it does not mean
that one does not exist.60
The pyramid of Senusret II at Lahun has a subsidiary pyramid, with a chapel at its northeast
corner, which Petrie assumed was for a queen. There were also eight rock-​cut mastabas along
the north side of the pyramid, which are assumed to have been for the royal family, but no
evidence supports this assumption. There were also four shaft tombs on the south side of the
pyramid, one of which, Tomb 8, belonged to Princess Sit-​Hathor-​Iunut, and held a beautiful
cache of jewelry. Just outside the enclosure on the north side, a tomb (Tomb 621) was found,
which the excavator, Brunton, called a “Royal Tomb.”61 The entrance leads into a long pas-
sageway that places the burial chambers back under the brick wall that ran around the pyramid
complex. The passageway led to a chamber, with a burial chamber and canopic niche on one
side and an offering chapel on the other. Although damaged, a red granite sarcophagus and
canopic chest were found. Everything in the structure had been badly damaged by robbers, but
clearly the quality of the stones used in the construction, and the plan of the tomb, shows that
it was made for an important royal person, probably one of Senusret II’s wives. Either this tomb,
or the subsidiary tomb, could have belonged to Weret I.
Weret I’s pyramid 8 at the Dahshur pyramid of Senusret III, her son, had a chapel built on
the east side, which apparently also had a pair of small obelisks at its entrance, as the limestone
tip of one obelisk was found; such obelisks were typical of earlier, Sixth Dynasty queens’ chapels,
but little documented in the Twelfth Dynasty.62 Another chapel, in the shape of a niche, was
built into the pyramid on the north side.The chapels were completely destroyed, but the decor-
ation from the north chapel, which was “deliberately hacked off by ancient stone robbers” was
still present in large quantities, although in fragments.63 Fragments from the lintel of the north
chapel door showed that there was a winged sun disk with epithets for Horus of Edfu, and the
following titles for Weret I: “hereditary noblewoman, great of praise, king’s wife, king’s mother,

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Lisa Sabbahy

she who is joined to the White Crown.”The fragments show that there was a scene of the king’s
mother sitting before a table of offerings, an offering list, and offering bearers.64 She is wearing
a vulture headdress, which royal women in general can wear in the Middle Kingdom. In an
inscription on the west wall, she is given the Old Kingdom title “anything she says is done for
her,” which is not a title commonly used in the Middle Kingdom, but this author has noticed
that in terms of titles of royal women in the Middle Kingdom, the use of titles from the Old
Kingdom seems to express a particular importance or status for that woman.
Determining family relationships for the rest of the Twelfth Dynasty is difficult. The rela-
tionship of Senusret III with Amenemhat III, who follows him on the throne, is not clear, nor
is the relationship of any member of the royal family to Amenemhat IV who then follows
Amenemhat III. 65 More importantly during this period, the evidence of women with the title
“king’s mother” is lacking, and so ending this discussion with Weret I is appropriate.

Conclusion
From the beginning of dynastic Egypt there is evidence for the noticeable importance of the
mother of the king. She can actually rule in his name, if he inherits the throne when he is too
young to make decisions as a king. Egyptologists do not know at what age a boy could rule
without his mother as regent, but assume perhaps the age of 10 or 12.The king’s mother has no
title to mark this position as regent, but is simply “king’s mother.” Other evidence can be used
to show a regency, such as the alabaster statuette of the king’s mother Ankhenespepy II, with
the king Pepy II on her lap.
The importance of the king’s mother to the king is that she passes the legitimacy to rule
on to him. The king holds a divine position as the agent and offspring of the sun god on earth,
and his mother was believed to have been impregnated by the god. This divine birth can be
expressed symbolically, as in Mentuhotep II’s rock-​cut scene at Schatt er-​Rigal, or quite literally
as in the later New Kingdom divine birth scenes.
In the Old Kingdom, the mother of the king could hold several other titles unique to the
king’s mother, along with her main title, “king’s mother.” She wore the vulture headdress to
state her position; no other royal woman in the Old Kingdom had a symbol of her status. The
king’s mother could also have a ka-​chapel or a statue in a statue cult chapel, where she could be
offered to and memorialized.
In the Middle Kingdom, there is unfortunately much less information about mothers of the
kings. There is no clear evidence that there has been any change in their status or position, but
their titles, other than “king’s mother,” are titles used by other queens, and any royal woman
could wear the vulture headdress. A great part of the problem of understanding more about
the Twelfth Dynasty of the Middle Kingdom is that there has been such extensive damage,
quarrying, and reuse at the royal pyramid complexes. Although Old Kingdom sites suffered from
this as well, there is more evidence with which to work, as the span of Old Kingdom history
covered twice as much time as the Middle Kingdom. Continued excavation and re-​excavation
at Middle Kingdom sites will help remedy this lack of evidence.

Notes
1 Dates follow Shaw 2000: 482–​83.
2 Waddell 1971: 37.
3 Dreyer 1987: 36, fig. 3.
4 Engel 2008: 38 and fig. 12.

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The king’s mother

5 Bestock 2008: 53–​4 and fig. 7.

6 See p. 11, n. 2.
7 Otto 1969: 400–​2.
8 Naville 1896: pl. 47.
9 Naville 1896: pls. 48–​55.
10 Roth 2001: 568, fig. 90.
11 Robins 1993: 188.
12 Habachi 1958: 189–​90.
13 Berlev 1981: 363.
14 Sabbahy 1982: 29.
15 Sabbahy 1998: 305.
16 Sabbahy 1982: 358.
17 Hölscher 1912: 102–​3, figs. 140–​4.
18 Roehrig 1999: 437–​9
19 Posener 1959: 236.
20 Papazian 2008: 79–​80.
21 Goedicke 1967: 41–​54.
22 Bussmann 2010.
23 Vymazalová and Coppens 2011: 792.
24 Verner 2015: 89.
25 Hassan 1943: 17.
26 Hassan 1943: 22.
27 Lehner and Hawass 2017: 268.
28 Verner 2015: 87.
29 Lichtheim 1973: 220.
30 Verner 2015: 87.
31 Labrousse 2010: 301.
32 Gourdon 2016: 79–​80; Labrousse 2010: 301–​2, 304–​5.
33 Waddell 1971: 53.
34 Labrousse 2000: 486, fig. 1.
35 Sabbahy 2021.
36 James 1974: pl. 25.
37 Gardiner and Peet 1955: 64 and pl. 9.
38 Leclant and Clerc 1998: pl. 28.
39 Labrousse 2010: 301.
40 Altenmüller 2002: 14–​16; Bleeker 1973: 88.
41 Dunham and Simpson 1974: fig. 4.
42 Labrousse 1998: 10.
43 Mathieu, Bène, and Spahr 2005.
44 Dobrev et al. 2000: 278 and 283.
45 Allen 2005: 13, ft. 3.
46 Allen 2005: 7.
47 Roth 2001: 570, fig. 93.
48 Sabbahy 1982: 178–​79, n. 25.
49 Arnold 1974: pl. 25b.
50 Lichtheim 1973: 143.
51 Mace 1922: 12, fig. 11.
52 Roth 2001: 221, ft. 1251.
53 Hayes 1953: 194.
54 Borchardt 1899: 91, 96.
55 Sabbahy 1996: 351.
56 Naville 1894: pl. 4, C5.
57 Arnold 2002.
58 De Morgan 1895: 75–​6.
59 Stünkel 2006: 149, ft. 9.
60 Arnold 2002: 83.
61 Petrie, Brunton, and Murray 1923: 16–​8.

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Lisa Sabbahy

62 Arnold 2002: 82–​3.

63 Stünkel 2006: 150.
64 Stünkel 2006: figs. 5–​11.
65 Pignattari 2018: 5.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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(eds.), Abusir and Saqqara in the Year 2000. Prague, 485–​90.
Labrousse, A. 2010. “Huit épouses du roi Pépy Ier.” In A.Woods, A. McFarlane and S. Binder (eds.), Egyptian
Culture and Society, Studies in Honour of Naguib Kanawati. Cairo, 297–​314.
Labrousse, A. 2012. “Recent Discoveries at the Necropolis of King Pepy I.” In L. Evans (ed.), Ancient
Memphis:“Enduring Is the Perfection.” Leuven, Paris and Walpole, 299–​308.
Leclant, J. and Clerc, G. 1998. “Fouilles et travaux en Égypte et au Soudan, 1996–​1997.” Orientalia 67,
3: 315–​444.
Lehner, M. 1997. The Complete Pyramids. London.
Lehner, M. and Hawass, Z. 2017. Giza and the Pyramids. Cairo.
Lichtheim, M. 1973. Ancient Egyptian Literature, vol. I: The Old and Middle Kingdoms. Berkeley.
Mace, A. 1922. “Excavations at Lisht.” The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin 17, 12, Part 2, 4–​18.

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Mathieu, B., Bène, É., and Spahr,A. 2005.“Recherches sur les textes de la pyramide de la reine Ankhenespépy
II. 1. Le register supérieur de la paroi est de la chamber funéraire (AII/​F/​E sup).” Bulletin de l’Institut
Français d’Archéologie Orientale 105: 129–​38.
Naville, E. 1894. Ahnas El Medineh. London.
Naville, E. 1896. The Temple of Deir el-​Bahari, Part 2. London.
Otto, E. 1969. “Legitimation des Herrschens im Pharaonischen Ägypten.” Saeculum 20: 385–​407.
Papazian, H. 2008. “Perspectives of the Cult of Pharaoh During the Third Millennium B.C.: A
Chronological Overview.” In H.Vymazalová and M. Barta (eds.), Chronology and Archaeology in Ancient
Egypt (The Third Millennium B.C.). Prague, 61–​80.
Petrie, F., Brunton, G., and Murray, M. 1923. Lahun II. London.
Pignattari, S. 2018. Amenemhat IV and the End of the Twelfth Dynasty, Between the End and the Beginning.
Oxford.
Posener, G. 1959. Dictionnaire de la civilisation égyptienne. Paris.
Robins, G. 1993. Women in Ancient Egypt. London.
Roehrig, C. 1999. “172. Pair Statue of Queen Ankh-​nes-​meryre II and her Son Pepi II Seated.” In Egyptian
Art in the Age of the Pyramids. New York, 437–​39.
Roth, S. 2001. Die Königsmütter des Alten Ägypten von der Frühzeit bis zum Ende der 12. Dynastie. Wiesbaden.
Sabbahy, L. 1982.The Development of the Titulary and Iconography of the Ancient Egyptian Queen from
Dynasty One to Early Dynasty Eighteen. PhD Dissertation, University of Toronto.
Sabbahy, L. 1996. “Comments on the Title hnmt-​nfr-​hdt.” Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur 23: 349–​52.
Sabbahy, L. 1998. “The King’s Mother in the Old Kingdom with Special Reference to the Title st-​ntr.”
Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur 25: 305–​10.
Sabbahy, L. 2021. Kingship, Power and Legitimacy in Ancient Egypt: From the Old Kingdom to the Middle
Kingdom. Cambridge.
Shaw, I. 2000. The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt. Oxford.
Stünkel, I. 2006. “The Relief Decoration of the Cult Chapels of Royal Women in the Pyramid Complex
of Senusret III at Dahshur.” In M. Bárta, F. Coppens, and J. Krejčí (eds.), Abusir and Saqqara in the Year
2005. Prague, 147–​66.
Stünkel, I. 2015.“Notes on Khenemet-​nefer-​hedjet Weret II.” Bulletin of the Egyptological Seminar 19: 631–​40.
Troy, L. 1986. Patterns of Queenship in Ancient Myth and History. Uppsala.
Verner, M. 2011. “The ‘Khentkaues –​Problem’ Reconsidered.” In M. Bárta, F. Coppens, and J. Krejčí (eds.),
Abusir and Saqqara in the Year 2010, vol. II. Prague, 778–​84.
Verner, M. 2015. “The Miraculous Rise of the Fifth Dynasty: The Story of Papyrus Westcar and Historical
Evidence.” Prague Egyptological Studies 15: 86–​92.
Vymazalová, H. and Coppens, F. 2011. “Statues and Rituals for Khentkaues II: A Reconsideration of Some
Papyrus Fragments from the Queen’s Funerary Complex.” In M. Bárta, F. Coppens, and J. Krejčí (eds.),
Abusir and Saqqara in the Year 2010/​2. Prague, 785–​99.
Waddell, W.G. 1971. Manetho. Cambridge, MA.

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3
REGNANT WOMEN IN EGYPT 1
Martina Minas-​Nerpel

Cultural context and sources

The institution of ancient Egyptian kingship, so central to Egyptian culture, was long-​lived,
from the foundation of the “nation state” until the Roman period. It dominated Egyptian
society for more than 3,000 years and survived numerous foreign conquests, in part because
of the divine status with which the king was credited. In all periods the pharaoh, the living
manifestation of Horus, depended on the gods. The kingship, a demonstration of the power of
the creator god, was assumed by a mortal ruler who needed divine legitimation. According the
Myth of the Divine Birth,2 the pharaoh was the bodily offspring of the gods and thus their deputy.
Such myths were mobilized politically and used to establish and reinforce the king’s and the
dynasty’s claim to the throne.3 The ruler was responsible for maintaining Maat, the ideal state of
the cosmos, but chaos threatened this order, especially after a king’s death and during the tran-
sition of power. The pharaoh’s religious role was crucial. Exchanges between king and deities
are at the core of the temple decoration that creates a fictional and ideal world in which he and
they interact.The king was shown performing rituals before the gods,4 supported by his wife or
mother, who were also depicted in specific circumstances as ritualists.
In this chapter I seek to clarify how royal women, regnant or co-​regnant, fit into this con-
ception of order. Pharaohs could not rule alone: “They rule through other people, through
rituals, through institutions, and especially through expectations that are set up and manipulated
by those factors.”5 The numerous women surrounding the king, whose role was defined by their
relationship to him, were intended to support him, while he relied on them, notably for the
transmission of the office from father to son. Ancient Egyptian kingship continually needed to
reaffirm its right to exist, and to this end the female element was essential in both ideology and
mythology. Divine kingship required divine male and female counterparts, with female power
complementing legitimate male leadership. This balance of male and female roles evokes the
relationship of Shu and Tefnut, the first progeny of the creator god Atum, with whom duality
and opposition emerged and the female and male principles were manifested in their differen-
tiation.6 The king’s wife was considered to be a manifestation of Hathor, the female prototype
of creation. The king’s mother was the protector of this transition, as in the divine world was
Isis, who conceived Horus, the son of Osiris. A feminine element is necessary in all creative and
generative acts, ensuring renewal and continuity.7 In theory, female power did not compete with

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Regnant women in Egypt

kingship, which was predominantly male, but women with political power were not isolated
cases, and some rulers had a female identity.
For the purpose of this chapter, royal women are designated as regnant or co-​regnant if they
exercised political and ideological power, as a king’s mother, a king’s wife, or a pharaoh. Egypt’s
political and ideological system was flexible to some extent and allowed women to step in and
rule, mainly—​but not only—​on behalf of male relatives, most often their sons. In times of crisis,
the leadership of a woman was repeatedly preferred over power struggles within the dynasty
between males, which could lead to the extinction of a dynasty.
Regnant and co-​regnant women are attested in visual and textual sources throughout the
history of Egypt, from the dawn of the “nation state”8 until Egypt ceased to exist as an inde-
pendent state and was incorporated into the vast Roman empire.9 The degree to which these
women are documented differs widely; often their presence has to be identified in sources that
are diverse in range and purpose. An assembly of deceased Egyptian rulers was displayed in sev-
eral King-​Lists engraved on the walls of the New Kingdom temples of Sety I and Ramesses II
at Abydos and in the tomb of the priest Tjuloy at Saqqara.10 These lists were not intended as
objective records, and their main concern was cultic, not chronological. In contrast, the pur-
pose of the “Royal Canon of Turin,” also dating to Dynasty 19, was to include a record of every
single king, with his exact position in sequence since creation.11 From roughly a millennium
later, Manetho’s Aigyptiaka, which displays a significant similarity to the Turin King-​List, was
drawn up to explain the Egyptian past to the new foreign kings of Egypt and their contem-
poraries.12 Several female rulers are known from ancient Egypt, and some, like Hatshepsut,
exercised powerful kingship, but not all their names are preserved, or they were suppressed
in an effort to erase their legacy. Secondary wives are rarely attested on royal monuments or
elsewhere. In contrast, the king’s mother and King’s Great Wife—​conventionally called queens
in modern scholarship—​were shown on both royal and non-​royal monuments. They shared
insignia and titles and seem to have had similar ritual roles, with one being able to substitute for
the other in scenes where they were shown accompanying the king in temple ritual.13

The terminology and scope of this chapter

The aim of this chapter is to look at some of the (co-​)regnant women in chronological order,
followed in each case by a brief reflection on their individual circumstances and, where they
can be reconstructed, their strategies. The treatment is not intended to be exhaustive, but rather
centers around some highly influential royal women. Since the God’s Wives of Amun of the
Libyan and the Late Periods and the Ptolemaic royal women are presented in separate chapters
of this book, they are only mentioned in the conclusion.
The terminology used to designate a (co-​)regnant woman needs careful consideration. The
modern term “queen” carries connotations that might be misleading in an analysis of ancient
Egyptian material. The Egyptians usually defined royal women according to their relationship
to the pharaoh: the King’s Great Wife was called ḥm.t nsw wr.t, his daughter sꜣ.t nsw, his sister
sn.t nsw. At least some royal women who became (co-​)regents were referred to with the fem-
inine equivalents of masculine nouns: nsw.t, bjtj.t, or ḥr.t, “female Horus,” as discussed below in
more detail (see p. 26).14 In Egyptological publications, kings’ mothers or wives are referred to
as ‘queens’ (German and French “Königin” and “reine”).15 For example, Silke Roth uses ‘queen’
to refer “to a wife and/​or mother of an Egyptian king,” the highest-​ranking female member of
the royal court and household.16 The so-​called ‘harem’ included the secondary wives and royal
children and was a powerful force in itself.17 The term ‘queen’ is not wrong, but in most cases
too general, because it does not distinguish the queens’ diverse positions and instead subsumes

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Martina Minas-Nerpel

them in a single category. In recent years a more detailed differentiation has become normal,
taking account of whether a queen was a king’s consort with (almost) no political power, a
(co-​)regnant woman, or a female pharaoh. I use the term ‘ruler’ or ‘female king’ when a woman
assumed the role of pharaoh and became a ruler in her own right. Occasionally, I use the term
‘queen’ in a more general sense, mostly when the exact status of an evidently powerful royal
woman is not clear.

Current state of research

“Queens” have been researched as the essential feminine element of kingship, with studies
centered on their titles and iconography, or their relationships to the pharaohs. In his Le livre des
rois d’Egypte (1907–​1917), Henri Gauthier recorded all known names and titles of the members
of the royal families and laid the foundation for all subsequent studies. His work was expanded
by Jürgen von Beckerath’s Handbuch der ägyptischen Königsnamen (1999), which includes regnant
women but not other female members of royal families.
A number of publications analyze queenship in ancient Egypt, and they cannot all be
mentioned here. Lana Troy’s Patterns of Queenship (1986) studies the conceptual framework for
royal female elements from Early Dynastic times to the Ptolemaic period. In 2002 she added
her seminal article “The Ancient Egyptian Queenship as an Icon of the State.” Wilfried Seipel
(1980) researched the “queens” of early dynastic Egypt and the Old Kingdom. More than
30 years later,Vivienne G. Callender presented in her In Hathor’s Image I (2011a) a study of the
wives and mothers of kings from Dynasties 1 to 6. Silke Roth’s Königsmütter des alten Ägypten
(2001) concentrates on the period from Early Dynastic times to the end of Dynasty 12. Gay
Robins wrote her (unpublished) 1981 dissertation on Egyptian queens in Dynasty 18 and sub-
sequently published various articles on royal women and families.18
Joyce Tyldesley’s Chronicle of the Queens of Egypt (2006) is aimed at the general public. In
2014, Kara Cooney published her book, The Woman Who Would Be King, in which she gives a
narrative biography of Hatshepsut, comparable to Stacy Schiff ’s book on Kleopatra (2010). In
2018, Cooney published, again for a general audience, her When Women Ruled the World, which
reviews Egyptian female leadership in a male-​dominated society.

Examples of (co-​)regnant women in ancient Egypt

Dynasty 1: Neithhotep and Meretneith
Manetho recorded that in reign of Binothris (Biophis), a king of Dynasty 2, it was decided that
women might hold the kingly office.19 But already for Dynasty 1, powerful women are attested.
Even if the evidence is rather limited for the early dynasties, the monumental tombs and the
first written testimonies provide information on the royal women. The palace façade (Egyptian
serekh), which is part of the composition of the king’s name, is also attested for some royal
women of Dynasty 1.20 It is given a specifically feminine form by combining it with the name
of the goddess Neith, who takes the role of the falcon god Horus on the façade.21 The earliest
royal woman so far attested in this way is Neithhotep of the beginning of Dynasty 1, who was
associated with Narmer, Aha, and Djer.22 Her position in the family and status are not clear, but
we can assume that she was a royal wife.23
The first clearly attested regnant woman in Egyptian history was Meretneith, whose name
is also found in a serekh.24 Her name occurs on a dynastic seal of king Den of Dynasty 1,
discovered at Abydos in 1985.25 It lists his direct predecessors, including the king’s mother

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Regnant women in Egypt

Meretneith. Even if she might not have taken on the formal position as king, she ruled on
behalf of her son and was mentioned as his mother in the royal annals of Memphis, the so-​called
Palermo Stone.26 She is unique in having a major tomb at Abydos, located among the burial
of kings at the royal necropolis, including a tomb stele, which has the same form as a stele for a
king, bearing her name.27 Since she appears on the dynastic seal we can view the listing as not
only dynastic but also genealogical.28

Dynasties 4–5: the king’s mother Khentkaus and an

unknown king’s wife
The king’s mother Khentkaus (or Khentkaues) I seems to have formed a link between Dynasties
4 and 5.29 She is regarded as the mother of triplets, whose birth is predicted in a prophecy told
at Khufu’s court (Dynasty 4), as attested in P. Westcar.30 They were to be the first three kings of
the next dynasty. P. Westcar, which probably dates to the Second Intermediate Period,31 was not
meant as a record of an historical event, and the true identity of her sons is difficult to deter-
mine, but Khentkaus’ special status, perhaps that of a regent, is reflected in her huge and unusual
tomb (LG 100), the so-​called “Fourth Pyramid” at Giza.32
A badly destroyed pyramid at South Saqqara, adjacent to that of king Djedkare-​Isesi’s of
Dynasty 5, is unusually large and has a complex plan. It once belonged to his principal wife,
whose name is not preserved. Texts and scenes were secondarily altered and replaced by royal
insignia.33 These emblems and the intensity with which her monuments were attacked might
suggest that this royal woman ruled as a female king and thus, according to Ann Macy Roth,
would be Hatshepsut’s earliest predecessor.34

Dynasty 6: Nitokris
Herodotos (2.100) referred to Nitokris as the only female king of Egypt. Manetho listed her for
the end of Dynasty 6, ruling for 12 years.35 The earliest source to mention a ruler by this name,
in Egyptian Neit-​jqrty, is the Turin King-​List: Kim Ryholt’s reconstruction of section IV.7 leads
him to the conclusion that this ruler must be regarded as a man rather than a woman, whose
prenomen Netjerikare was followed by the nomen Siptah, “Son of Ptah,” a masculine name.36
This view is contested by Vivienne G. Callender37 and Marc Brose,38 since a female ruler’s
name was copied through later times in Egypt and transmitted to Herodotos and Manetho.
One should keep in mind, however, that Nitokris was also a name held by two God’s Wives of
Amun in Dynasty 26,39 just a century or two before Herodotos, which might have influenced
the tradition, so it seems rather likely that Netjerikare Siptah of Dynasty 6 was a male ruler.
Whether male or female, Nitokris is the Greek rendering of both relevant names, Neit-​jqrty or
Netjerikare, as Brose demonstrates.40

Dynasty 12: Neferusobek (or Sobeknofru, Skemiophris)

In contrast to the earlier royal women, Neferusobek is clearly documented.There is no question
that Neferusobek was a female pharaoh, who held power briefly at the end of Dynasty 12 as
the successor of Amenemhat IV, reigning for 3 years, 10 months and 24 days according to the
Turin King-​List.41 Her highest date documented in an inscription is regnal year 3 in a Nile level
at Kumma in Sudan.42
The reasons behind Neferusobek’s ascent to the throne are lost. Manetho reported her as
the last ruler of Dynasty 12, the sister of Amenemhat IV, who had no male heir.43 It seems that

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Martina Minas-Nerpel

she was the daughter of Amenemhat III, but from a different mother than Amenemhat IV.44 She
was associated with Amenemhat III on her monuments, but the presentation of her reign as a
co-​regency is commemorative rather than actual.45 Besides being the first female Egyptian ruler
attested with a full five-​fold titulary,46 Neferusobek is also the earliest royal woman designated
as female Horus: on a small fragment of a papyrus-​bud column from Qantir, originally circa 7m
high, two Horus falcons face each other, the male one of Amenemhat III and the female one of
Neferusobek, at first sight combining complementarity and equivalency, yet the female Horus
receives the signs of life and stability from her father.47
Various of Neferusobek’s statues survive and preserve her royal titles.48 A torso of unknown
provenance now in the Louvre (E 27135),49 identified as Neferusobek by an inscription, shows
a woman wearing a kingly nemes headdress and a sheath dress underneath a shendyt kilt, another
element of kingly iconography. Thus, male regalia are used on a female body, showing that the
designers struggled to show a woman in the otherwise male role of a king.

Dynasties 17–​18: Tetisheri and Ahmes-​Nefertari

At the end of the Second Intermediate Period, the royal consorts and mothers of the Theban
rulers of the late Dynasty 17, who started the difficult process of reuniting Egypt, supported
the kings during their absences on campaign.50 Surviving inscriptions place great emphasis on
the individual royal women of this dynasty and their divinity, probably displaying their political
and ideological influence. King Taa I’s great wife Tetisheri was considered so important that her
grandson Ahmose established a cenotaph for her at Abydos. A stele, now on display in the Cairo
Museum (CG 34002), commemorates this decision and shows the king venerating the deified
queen. His own great wife was his sister Ahmes-​Nefertari, who became a dominant figure
during the reign of her son, Amenhotep I of Dynasty 18; the latter dedicated two cult structures
for her on the Theban West Bank.51 She is also the earliest royal woman to be associated with
the title of God’s Wife of Amun,52 giving her a key role in Amun’s cult in connection with royal
ideology.The title of this priestess, who was always a royal woman, emphasized the creator god’s
symbolic union with his ‘wife’ in order to guarantee the world’s continuance. The institution
of the God’s Wife of Amun lasted for roughly a millennium until the Persian conquest (see
Chapter 5).

Dynasty 18: Hatshepsut

Thutmose II married his half-​sister Hatshepsut, who bore the king a daughter, Neferure. The
pharaoh seems to have died unexpectedly, leaving the throne to Thutmose III, a small boy by
a secondary wife, Iset. Hatshepsut, as her deceased brother’s principal wife and God’s Wife
of Amun, controlled the government.53 Hatshepsut further legitimized her claim to power
through her role as Amun’s daughter,54 and her prenomen was devised as an ideological expres-
sion: Maatkara, “the True One of the ka of Ra.”
Originally, Hatshepsut was portrayed in female attire and royal regalia, but from the sev-
enth regnal year of Thutmose III, her representations assumed a male form.55 Hatshepsut
now ruled as pharaoh, as the senior partner of her nephew, Thutmose III. An elaborate myth-
ology of her predestination was developed, which was indicated by an oracle during the
reign of her father Thutmose I, which is represented in the “Red Chapel,” a barque shrine
at Karnak, and by her divine birth, which is depicted in a relief cycle in her temple at Deir
el-​Bahari.56

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Regnant women in Egypt

Hatshepsut did not usurp royal power, but rather asserted her kingship through a process,
with her combined regency and co-​regency lasting for almost 22 years. She achieved “her
power without bloodshed or social trauma,”57 and her prosperous reign stimulated a period
of creativity and artistic innovation. One reason might be that, of the early kings of Dynasty
18, probably only Hatshepsut’s father, Thutmose I, ascended the throne as an adult. Ahmose,
Amenhotep I, and Thutmose II seemed to have been young at accession, perhaps only 5 years
old on average. Thus, their mothers or other royal women ruled for a number of years before
each of them came of age. According to Ann Macy Roth’s calculation, women effectively
ruled Egypt for almost half of the approximately 70 years preceding Hatshepsut’s accession.58
Courtiers were thus accustomed to the powerful role of royal women.

Late Dynasty 18: Tiy and Nefertiti

Amenhotep III married a non-​royal woman, Tiy, who became his great principal wife; she
is known from multiple monuments. Christian Bayer calls her a “Königin der Superlative”
(“queen of superlatives”),59 also because no other royal woman of the New Kingdom—​
except for Nefertiti—​is as well attested as Tiy. He concludes that she was rooted in the
tradition of her female predecessors, since iconographic and ideological innovations had
been introduced for other queens of the early New Kingdom such as Ahmes-​Nefertari and
Hatshepsut.
Tiy was part of a sacral monumentalization of kingship under Amenhotep III that is
attested, for example, in his mortuary temple at Kom el-​Heitan, in his palace in Malqata, and
in the transformation of the sacred landscape of Thebes and Memphis. As Barry Kemp points
out, “ideology needs architecture for its fullest expression.”60 The monuments of Amenhotep
III and Tiy demonstrate an enormous increase in the public display and importance of the
royal couple;61 no previous queen figured so prominently in her husband’s lifetime.62 Two
Nubian temples further substantiate Tiy’s importance: at Soleb, near the Third Nile Cataract
in modern Sudan, a large temple was dedicated to Amun-​Ra and Nebmaatra, a deified form
of Amenhotep III. The king, who was given the status of a moon god complementary to
his solar aspects, built a temple to his wife as a pendant to his own, a few kilometers to the
north at Sedeinga.63 At Sedeinga, the focus was on the King’s Great Wife, presumably as the
deified solar eye of Ra, Hathor, or Tefnut. The rituals at Sedeinga turned the angry eye of Ra
that had fled from the violent leonine nature of Tefnut into the appeased and loving form
of Hathor and thus re-​established world order. The deified Tiy became Hathor, the perfect
consort of the king, who was at once sun god and his son. In the colonial land of Nubia,
which was potentially violent, the temples of Tiy and Amenhotep III enacted cosmic order.64
Tiy’s new status culminated in her association with cosmic–​solar goddesses as part of the
solarization of the kingship, which was perfected under her son, Amenhotep IV, and his great
wife, Nefertiti, who is famous because of her many surviving images, especially the bust in
Berlin.65 On a gateway associated with the temple of Benben in Amenhotep IV’s gm-​p˒˒-​ỉtn at
Karnak, Nefertiti is also represented as sole participant in the cult of the Aten, followed only
by her daughter(s).66 That she offers to the Aten as sole ritualist without the king reflects her
exceptional status.
Amenhotep IV substantially altered Egypt’s religion, changed his name to Akhenaton, and
moved the capital to Akhetaton, the “Horizon of the Aton,” modern Amarna. In the solarized
religion and cults, his principal wife was allocated a prominent role that was to some extent
an evolution of the outstanding position commanded by Tiy, who survived for more than half

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Martina Minas-Nerpel

the reign of Amenhotep IV. This role was expressed in innovative iconographic details, some of
which are shared only by Tiy and Nefertiti, for example the tall blue “platform crown” and the
khat-​headdress.67 Like Neferusobek, both Tiy and Nefertiti were depicted as sphinxes, a form
of representation that again linked them with the solar goddesses Hathor and Tefnut.68 Both
are shown smiting female enemies, which Uroš Matić explains as a “feminized version of the
king trampling or smiting,” showing the domination of the ruling couple over both men and
women, though ultimately giving “legitimacy to gender relations in which the masculine has
the dominant and prevailing role.”69
Both Tiy and Nefertiti had a lasting influence on the status of a King’s Great Wife and were
depicted in new iconographies that displayed their extraordinary status. The crown comprising
two straight feathers, identified as two uraei or as Eyes of the God,70 had entered the iconog-
raphy of royal women no later than Dynasty 13. Together with the vulture headdress, it is one
of the primary symbols of royal women from Dynasty 18 onwards. Its solar connection made it
common during the Amarna Period; a sun disk added between the two tall feathers had been
introduced for Tiy, who was also the first royal woman to include the cow horns and sun disk
of Hathor in her crown. Among conventional crowns, this one was also common for Nefertiti,
even if her most famous one is the flat blue crown, presumably a new creation for her.71 The
combination of the tall feathers, the cow horns, and the sun disk was so satisfying that it became
normative until the Roman period, not only for royal women but also for major female deities
such as Isis and Hathor.72

Dynasty 19: Nefertari and Tawosret

Like Tiy and Nefertiti, Ramesses II’s first consort, Nefertari, can be counted as a key figure
among the King’s Great Wives. All three have a prominence in their husbands’ monuments that
is unequaled at other times.73
The construction of two Nubian temples for the king and his Great Wife at Soleb and
Sedeinga for Amenhotep III and Tiy was followed a century later by Ramesses II at Abu Simbel,
below the Second Nile Cataract, where the larger, southern temple was dedicated to the king
and the smaller, northern one to Nefertari as Hathor. In this temple, Nefertari conducts rit-
uals jointly with her husband, but also alone, offering to forms of Hathor and to other gods.
According to Rolf Gundlach, Nefertari’s role in her temple at Abu Simbel and her status as the
king’s partner are salient in the decoration, where she acts as Hathor, who is also the protectress
of the newborn king, as depicted in the birth chamber (the southern chapel).74 Nefertari prob-
ably died soon after the inauguration of her temple in Ramesses II’s year 2475 and was buried
in Tomb 66 of the Valley of the Queens in Thebes, where her solar connection is displayed in a
different form, in the solar mode of regeneration.76
Tawosret was probably born near the end of the reign of Ramesses II; she may have been
his granddaughter.77 Like Neferusobek and Hatshepsut, she was first a principal wife of a king.
Sety II, the eldest son of Merenptah and a grandson of Ramesses II, was succeeded by Siptah,
who was young and therefore put in the care of a regent, Tawosret. After his death, it seems that
no suitable male descendant of Ramesses II was available, so Tawosret assumed the position of
pharaoh and received a full five-​fold titulary,78 while counting her regnal years as sole ruler as a
continuation of the deceased Siptah’s reign.79
Although Tawosret had been Sety’s principal wife, she had no tomb in the Valley of the
Queens. Instead, her tomb was constructed in the Valley of the Kings (KV 14), where she was
the only female monarch to be buried.80 It was completed during her reign, but later altered by
Ramesses III for the burial of his father Sethnakht.

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Powerful royal women after the late New Kingdom

The political and ideological systems began to deteriorate after the death of Ramesses III, and
the king’s religious authority started to decline. Respect for the rulers was essential “if they
were to hold the edifice of state together,”81 requiring the support of myth and the reinforce-
ment of ceremony. The ideological assimilation of the king and Amun, mentioned above in the
Myth of the Divine Birth (see p. 22), attests to a huge effort by thinkers of Dynasties 18 and 19.
This process took new directions toward the end of the New Kingdom. At the beginning of
Dynasty 21, Egypt split in two parts, with two centers of power. Upper Egypt, with important
centers in the region of Herakleopolis and Thebes, was ruled by a military commander who was
at the same time the High Priest of Amun. Lower Egypt was ruled by kings with residences in
Memphis and Tanis. Egypt was unified again in Dynasty 25, when it was conquered by Nubian
forces.82 During the Nubian conquest, Shepenwepet I, daughter of Osorkon III of Dynasty 23,
was a powerful royal woman in Thebes. After a long hiatus in the office, she had been appointed
as God’s Wife of Amun; her elevated status was emphasized in the location selected for her
funerary chapel, which was located within the enclosure of Ramesses III’s mortuary temple at
Medinet Habu.83 The rulers of Dynasty 25 recognized the importance of the office of God’s
Wife, whose incumbent also exercised power over Thebes, and the custom of appointing a royal
daughter to this position continued. From 754 to 525 BC, five daughters of kings from Libyan,
Nubian, and Saite backgrounds held the title of God’s Wife of Amun. Like a king, each assumed
features of royal iconography and titulary upon accession and adopted feminine versions of royal
titles, among which was “female Horus.”84 The office disappeared in its powerful form for good
shortly after the Persian conquest of Egypt in 525.85
After Alexander’s conquest of Egypt, the wives, sisters, and daughters of several Ptolemaic
kings were extremely active politically. For example, Arsinoë II and Berenike II became very
powerful, while Kleopatra II and Kleopatra III contested the authority of the males of the dyn-
asty. At times these women dominated political and religious developments to an almost unpre-
cedented degree, but they did not surpass female rulers such as Hatshepsut.

Conclusion
The status of royal women incorporates Egyptian perceptions of a specifically female area of
authority. The active inclusion of royal women into kingship ideology made this authority part
of the king’s office, so that a composite of both male and female elements was created. In times
of crisis, royal wives and mothers as (co-​)regnant women secured the throne for their sons, often
young boys, and thus forestalled the decline of a dynasty. In exceptional cases, royal women
could become monarchs in their own right.
The leadership of regnant women in ancient Egypt replicated to some extent the myth
of Isis’ protection of her son Horus, who was threatened by his uncle Seth as competitor for
rule. During Egypt’s Graeco-​Roman period, the cult of Isis spread through the Mediterranean
world, often connected with the cult of the Ptolemaic queens.86 The status of Arsinoë II and
Berenike II was elevated not only by the divine standing accorded to them, but also by their role
as ritualists who theoretically had access to secret knowledge. This is documented in the case of
Arsinoë as the priestess of the Ram in Mendes or as “God’s Wife” in Thebes.87 These roles were
largely based on those of ancient Egyptian royal women. Knowledge acquired through the role
of priestesses set these royal women apart and marked them as active participants in the cult.
They thus acquired prestige. They could also become pharaohs, as in the cases of Neferusobek
in Dynasty 12, Hatshepsut in Dynasty 18, or—​if she was a woman—​Nitokris in Dynasty 6.

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Martina Minas-Nerpel

Notes
1 I am very grateful to John Baines for reading a draft of this chapter, his valuable critical remarks, and
for sending me his articles before publication (Baines in press and 2020).
2 The divine birth is attested from the Old Kingdom onwards: Megahed and Vymazalová 2011: 155–​
64; Oppenheim 2011: 171–​88. A full version of the myth is known from the reign of Hatshepsut in
Dynasty 18; see Brunner 1991.
3 For the context, see Goebs and Baines 2018: 653–​7.
4 See Baines in press for a discussion of the question of whether the king was the sole qualified priest of
the gods. On p. 17, he argues that the king performing rituals thematized himself as the prime earthly
being who was symbolically qualified to engage with the gods, being functionally present while phys-
ically absent and not envisaged as participating.
5 Baines 2020: 1.
6 Troy 1986: 139.
7 Troy 2002: 1–​24.
8 By c. 3000 BCE, the early dynastic state had emerged, ruled by the dual king of Upper and Lower
Egypt. Baines 2020: 23 argues that kingship was present in what later came to be Egypt by the pre-​
dynastic Naqada II period that saw extravagant display around large tomb complexes at Hierakonpolis.
Although kingship went through transformations, there was some continuity from that time to the late
Old Kingdom.
9 For the attestations of queens in Egyptian sources of the Roman period, see Hoffmann 2015: 139–​56.
10 Redford 1986: 18–​24.
11 P. Turin inv. 1874; Gardiner 1959; Ryholt 2004: 137–​8.
12 Redford 1986: xv.
13 Robins 2002: 25.
14 Leitz 2002: LGG IV 347a, translates nsw.t-​bity.t, when used as a designation for a goddess, as “Die
(regierende) Königin. Oder: ‘Der weibliche König von Ober-​und Unterägypten,’” thus drawing
attention to the inadequacy of the word “queen.” For h. r.t, “female Horus,” see Leitz 2002: LGG V
297c.
15 See, for example, the exhibition Reines d’Egypte: d’Hétephérès à Cléopâtre (Ziegler 2008).
16 Roth 2009: 1. For this definition, see also Robins 2002: 25.
17 Roth 2009: 6.
18 Robins 2001 and 2002.
19 Manetho, Aigyptiaka, fr. 8–​10 (Waddell 1940: 34–​9). See also Adler and Tuffin 2002: 78–​9.
20 Callender 2011a: 10–​14.
21 Troy 1986: 119, 133.
22 Troy 1986: 152, l.3; Seipel 1980: 8–​22 (Hetepneith).
23 Callender 2011a: 9–​10.
24 Callender 2011a: 30.
25 Dreyer 1987: 33–​43; Dreyer 1996: 72–​3. Almansa-​Villatoro 2019, 35–​51, suggests reading the queen’s
name as Merhemsit instead of Meretneith.
26 Redford 1986: 213, n. 44. Wilkinson 2000: 103–​5.
27 Petrie 1900: frontispiece; Seipel 1980: 23–​45; Callender 2011a: 30–​37.
28 Bierbrier 2006: 39.
29 Altenmüller 1970: 223–​35; Callender 2011a: 147–​53. Khentkaus I should not be confused with
Khentkaus II of Dynasty 5, the wife of king Neferirkare and mother of his eldest son and later king,
Raneferef (Callender 2011a: 171–​79).
30 P. Westcar: 9,21–​11,6 (Lepper 2008: 48–​51).
31 Lepper 2008: 21, 317–​20.
32 Hassan 1943: 1–​67; Callender 2011a: 136–​47.
33 Baer 1960: 298–​9, states that King Unis, her successor, incorporated blocks from her building in his
own. For Klaus Baer, the unusual position of this unidentified female ruler, who probably had no
young son for whom she might have ruled as King’s Mother, recalled that of Khentkaus.
34 Roth 2005: 12.
35 Waddell 1940: 54–​7.
36 Ryholt 2000: 92–​3; Brovarski 2007: 167–​71, even suggests a king nṯr-​k˒-​r˓ <ỉj-​m-​ḥtp> s​ ˒-​ptḥ.
37 Callender 2011a: 306–​17; 2011b: 246–​60.

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Regnant women in Egypt

38 Brose 2018: 37–​52.

39 Ayad 2009: 23–​27.
40 Brose 2018: 43–​45.
41 Roth 2001: 242–​45; Ryholt 1997: 15. For her attestation in King-​Lists, see Redford 1986: 19, 23, 34.
42 Schneider 2006: 173.
43 Manetho, Aigyptiaka, fr. 34 (Waddell 1940: 68–​9).
44 Roth 2001: 242–​5.
45 Troy 1986: 140; Murnane 1977: 20–​3, 229.
46 Von Beckerath 1999: 86–​7.
47 Habachi 1954: 464–​7, pl. 15A; Troy 1986: 139–​42.
48 Habachi 2001: 33, 168–​9, cats. 9–​11, pls. 13, 14A, 15B.
49 See Delange 1987: 30–​1.
50 Grimm 1999: 35–​47.
51 Uphill 1992: 613–​14 (with references).
52 Graefe 1981, vol. 2: 101–​5. Ahmes-​Nefertari’s mother Ahhotep was given the title of God’s Wife of
Amun, probably posthumously.
53 Dorman 2005: 87.
54 For the evidence and an analysis, see Schulz 2015: 18–​23.
55 Schulz 2015: 11–​18 (with references).
56 Dorman 2005: 88 (with references).
57 Cooney 2014: 1.
58 Roth 2005: 11.
59 Bayer 2014: 423.
60 Kemp 2006: 248.
61 Zinn 2015: 28.
62 Berman 1992: 42–​3.
63 Bryan 1992: 106–​10.
64 Bryan 1992: 110.
65 Seyfried 2012: 170–​87.
66 Williamson 2015: 179–​92.
67 Roth 2009: 3.
68 Bryan 1992: 110.
69 Matić 2017: 117–​18.
70 Already attested in the Coffin Texts, see Troy 2002: 20, n. 50 (with references).
71 Althoff 2009: 13, 21, 24; Troy 1986: 126.
72 Troy 2002: 20–​1.
73 Dodson 2002: 58.
74 Gundlach 1995: 57–​60, 68–​9, figs. 7–​8.
75 Dodson and Hilton 2004: 172.
76 McCarthy 2002: 173–​95; Schmidt 1995: 237–​70.
77 Callender 2012: 26, 28.
78 Von Beckerath 1999²: 162–​3.
79 Callender 2012: 36–​7.
80 Hornung 2006: 213.
81 Kemp 2006: 261.
82 Jansen-​Winkeln 2006: 218–​33 (Dynasty 21); Zibelius-​Chen 2006: 284–​92.
83 Koch 2012: 20–​22; Ayad 2009: 15–​6.
84 Eldamaty 2011: 24.
85 For the God’s wives of Amun, see Eldamaty 2015: 67–​85; Koch 2012: 19–​59; Ayad 2009: 1–​2, 15–​28.
86 Minas-​Nerpel 2011; 2013; 2019.
87 Minas-​Nerpel 2019.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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Martina Minas-Nerpel

LGG Lexikon der ägyptischen Götter und Götterbezeichnungen, vols. I –​VII, see Leitz 2002.
P.Westcar Papyrus Westcar (= P. Berlin 3033), see Lepper 2008.

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4
THE IMAGE OF NEFERTITI
Athena Van der Perre

Introduction to the image of Nefertiti

Ancient Egypt, despite being a society generally ruled by men, has a tradition of strong,
royal women who played an important role at the court. While some of them, such as
Hatshepsut and Kleopatra, were known to have reigned over the country, this is not so
widely known for others, e.g. Tawosret, the last pharaoh of the 19th Dynasty.1 One of the
most discussed royal women of ancient Egypt is without a doubt Nefertiti, “the beautiful
one has come,” who lived c. 1370–​1330 BCE. Today, she is best known for her colorful bust,
discovered in the workshop of the sculptor Thutmoses at Amarna, and currently on display
in the Neues Museum, Berlin.2 The bust was found on December 6, 1912, by the Deutsche
Orient-​Gesellschaft under the direction of the German archaeologist Ludwig Borchardt. At
the end of the excavation, all finds were divided between the German excavator and the
Egyptian Museum. During the division of finds, all objects from the workshop complex of
Thutmoses (labeled building P 47.1–​3) were granted to Berlin, including the wonderful bust
of Nefertiti. Borchardt kept the bust hidden for a couple of years after the discovery, so she
was not displayed for the first time until 1924. At some point, the rumor was spread that the
Germans had covered the bust with mud before the official division of finds, in order to hide
its beauty and to ensure that the bust would come to Berlin.3 In the following years, several
claims were filed from the Service des Antiquités and the Egyptians in order to get the bust
back to Egypt, but none were successful.4
Nefertiti spent most of her life during a rather turbulent period, today known as the Amarna
Period. This period marks the transition from the 18th to the 19th Dynasty, when the Egyptian
empire was at the height of his power. She and her family could not escape from the damnatio
memoriae inflicted by their immediate successors, so her fate remains a mystery, and yet she is
still one of the most popular research topics in Egyptology. Several facts are widely known and
accepted: she was married to Akhenaten, related to the boy-​king Tutankhamun, lived in the
newly created capital of Amarna, and was a true worshipper of the solar disk Aten.
But there was more. While taking a closer look at the available evidence, the preserved
facts appear to point in the same direction, namely that Nefertiti had reached the highest pos-
ition of the Egyptian empire by the end of her life, that is, the position of (co-​)regent of the
empire itself.

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Athena Van der Perre

Thebes, the early years

During the 18th Dynasty, the Egyptian empire blossomed. Egypt reached the peak of its
international power, while creating a safe and prosperous environment for its inhabitants.
The Thutmosid family had ruled Egypt for almost 150 years, when pharaoh Amenhotep III
(c. 1400–​1351 BCE) ascended the throne. Several large construction projects, such as the Luxor
temple and an enormous mortuary temple at Thebes, were started by the king who is known
for having the most surviving statues of all Egyptian pharaohs. Amenhotep III and his wife Tiye
(Tiy) had seven children: two sons and five daughters. After the unexpected death of the eldest
son Thutmoses, their youngest son Amenhotep IV was appointed as the formal successor to the
throne.5 The reign of Amenhotep IV was characterized by numerous innovations in art and
religion.These innovations were all closely connected to the worship of the sun disk Aten, who
became the chief deity of the Egyptian pantheon.This cult is often said to be monotheistic, and
the sun disk officially became the only state god. The unconventional art, as seen in temples,
monuments, and tombs, differed significantly from previous periods. It is characterized by very
lively and dynamic scenes, often involving large crowds.While some portraits and statues clearly
show a more naturalistic representation, the most typical statues are characterized by their
exaggerated body parts; broad hips, prominent breasts and elongated heads. This typical style is
now referred to as the Amarna style.6
Amenhotep IV started his reign in Thebes, where the first references to his wife Nefertiti are
found. Even though Nefertiti’s name, representations, and sculptures are plentiful, little is known
of her ancestry. For a long time, she was said to be a foreign princess, often identified with the
Mitannian princess Tadukhipa.7 This was partly based on her name, suggesting that the “beau-
tiful one” came from abroad. The name Nefertiti, however, was a rather common Egyptian
name during the 18th Dynasty.8 While the lineage of royal persons is often very well described,
mainly to claim their legitimacy, the references to the relatives of Nefertiti are scarce. Nefertiti
was clearly not from royal lineage, since she never used the title “king’s daughter.” Where she
was born is not known, but it is highly likely that she belonged to the Egyptian upper class.9
The name of her parents is not attested; the only female related to her appears to be her sister
Mutnedjmet.10 It is also known that Nefertiti had an Egyptian nurse, Teye, the second wife of
the later pharaoh Ay.11 Ay held the title “god’s father,” but given the fact that he was clearly not
the father of Akhenaten, this title was interpreted as “father-​in-​law.” Therefore, Nefertiti might
have been his daughter,12 presumably born to his first (currently unknown) wife.13
One of the first depictions of Nefertiti in her role of Akhenaten’s wife is found in the
Theban Tomb of the royal butler Parennefer (TT188),14 who is also the owner of rock tomb
7 at Amarna.15 His tomb is badly damaged, and the king’s consort is hardly identifiable, nor is
her name preserved. In TT55, however, Nefertiti is depicted behind her husband Amenhotep
IV, while rewarding the tomb owner Ramose with gold,16 a scene that would become part of
the standard decoration in the later rock tombs at Amarna. Nefertiti’s earliest representations
already refer to her with the title “great king’s wife” (ḥm.t nsw.t wr.t), a title reserved for the chief
queen. Secondary wives of the pharaoh received the minor title “king’s wife.”The exact time of
the marriage is still under discussion, as is the age of the couple at the time. Either they married
right before or right after Akhenaten’s ascension on the throne, or the marriage only took place
in his third or fourth regnal year.17 Their two oldest daughters, Meritaten and Meketaten, were
born at the residence in Thebes.
The couple started a large building campaign in the entire country, to introduce new cult
places for their chief deity.The use of the newly developed talatat blocks facilitated the construc-
tion of large buildings.18 Already in their first construction projects at Thebes, the extraordinary

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The image of Nefertiti

position held by Nefertiti at the court is shown. In Karnak, a whole temple was erected for
their chief god, the Aten.While there was only one official state god, in practice the royal couple
formed a divine triad with their god, Akhenaten serving as the son of the Aten, Nefertiti as his
female counterpart. Therefore, they were all to be worshiped by the people. While the pharaoh
is generally the protagonist in the temple scenes, it is striking that the images in the courtyard
of the temple only depict Nefertiti, sometimes accompanied by her daughters, worshiping the
Aten. She acts as a high priest, offering to the god, a privilege generally reserved for the king.
Her name also appears twice as much as that of her husband on the talatat from the Mansion
of the Benben.19 These elements prove that her status at the court was almost that of an equal
to the king, a fact that was also emphasized by her crowns and regalia.20 Numerous scenes are
preserved where Nefertiti is wearing a crown that is normally strictly reserved for the king, e.g.
the Atef crown,21 a crown with ram’s horns,22 or the so-​called Khepresh crown.23
One of Amenhotep IV’s major alterations during the early years of his reign, was chan-
ging his name into Akhenaten (“effective for the Aten”).24 His wife would follow his lead
by extending her own name to Neferneferuaten Nefertiti (“Beautiful are the beauties of the
Aten. The Beautiful one has come”). Nefertiti’s name, now written in two adjacent cartouches,
resembles the double cartouches of the king and the Aten. Again, the very important status of
Nefertiti is emphasized, this time in the writing of the first element of her name.While the god
Aten is written first for reasons of honor, his name is often written backward in her cartouche,
so it faces the figure of the Great King’s Wife. The reversed writing was so unusual that it must
have had the same effect as writing in capitalized letters in modern texts. Even more striking
is that her husband, who was seen as the direct descendant from the Aten, did not receive this
honor in his own cartouche.25
An important event took place around Akhenaten’s fifth year on the throne. The King
decided it was time to move his capital to a newly built city, since neither the administrative
center at Memphis nor the religious capital at Thebes was found suitable for his chief god.
A new capital was built on the east bank of the Nile, some 400km north of Thebes.26 According
to the so-​called Boundary Stelai, marking the boundaries of the city on both the east and the
west banks, Aten himself advised the king on the choice of the location.27 The text also states
that this was the place where Aten created the world, a place where he might set within every
single day. It is said that the King was inspired to create his new capital at this particular place
during a boat trip on the Nile, when seeing the sun rise between the desert mountains. The
scene resembled the hieroglyph for Horizon (Ꜣḫ.t), which probably led to the name of the new
city Akhetaten (“the horizon of the Aten”). Thousands of Egyptians followed their king to this
empty piece of desert, not contaminated by previous owners or cults.28

The queen in the new capital

Nefertiti’s position was not only consolidated in their new capital, it was even strengthened.
During the first years in the new capital, Nefertiti bore four more daughters; Ankhesenpaaten,
Neferneferuaten Tasherit, Neferneferure, and Setepenre.29 She was represented as a strong
woman. Her fertility was emphasized in the way she was portrayed, with very prominent hips,
but also by stressing the fact that she had (at least) six children. Her daughters are depicted in
numerous scenes, including scenes of official events, such as rewarding high courtiers.30 Apart
from being the king’s wife and a mother, Nefertiti’s most important role was probably that
of Akhenaten’s female counterpart in the divine Triad with the Aten. The multiple images of
Nefertiti in the tombs show that she played an active role in state rituals. Nefertiti is acting
on the same level as her husband; she sits parallel with him on thrones, walks besides him in

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Athena Van der Perre

processions, and she drives her own chariot.31 The royal couple is portrayed as having an equal
relationship with the god Aten as both receive the same praise and worship directly of the Aten
himself. Talatat blocks recovered at Hermopolis even depict Nefertiti in the traditional pose of
the pharaoh, slaying the enemies of Egypt. The scene shows several royal boats, with Nefertiti
standing in a cabin on her boat, wearing her idiosyncratic blue crown. She is raising her right
arm, while holding a kneeling female enemy with her left arm.32 These scenes do not depict
actual events and it is highly unlikely that Nefertiti ever led the troops into battle.33 They must
be regarded as symbolic representations of the ever-​triumphing pharaoh, whose role it was to
establish and maintain Maat (“order”) in the world. The fact that it is not the pharaoh himself,
but his chief queen who defeats the chaos, is again an example of Nefertiti’s very unusual pos-
ition at the court.
Images of the royal couple slightly changed as the Amarna style evolved. Nefertiti is always
shown in normal proportions next to her husband, never knee-​high, like royal wives in other
periods. Several images of the earlier phase, however, do depict Nefertiti as considerably smaller
than her husband, standing behind him in a more traditional pose.34 In the later phase the equality
of the couple becomes more prominent. It must be stressed that at Amarna, the representations
of the daily life of the royal family must have been regarded as equally important to the more
traditional scenes, presenting the royal couple during official occasions. Several scenes and stelai
depict the couple and their children as a loving family, kissing and cuddling. Probably the best-​
known example is stele ÄM 14145 from the Neues Museum, Berlin (Figure 4.1).

Figure 4.1 Limestone house altar depicting Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and three of their daughters, found at
Amarna. Ägyptisches Museum, Berlin, ÄM 14145
Source: © bpk /​Ägyptisches Museum und Papyrussammlung, SMB. Photo: Margarethe Büsing

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The image of Nefertiti

Here, the couple is depicted together with three of their daughters. Akhenaten is holding
Meritaten in his arms and kisses her, while Meketaten is sitting on her mother’s lap and
Ankhesenpaaten is climbing on her mother’s shoulder, grasping for an ornament hanging from
her crown. What looks like a simple, intimate family portrait at first sight, does raise some
questions. Akhenaten is clearly the taller person in the scene, but his seat is simple and plain.
His wife on the other hand, is sitting on a decorated seat, covered in regal motifs.35 It appears
that even these scenes of daily life had the intention to stress the importance of the king’s great
wife. In the tomb of Meryre II, a well-​known scene shows the royal couple during the so-​
called Durbar (or foreign tribute) ceremony, sitting on a throne next to each other and holding
hands. Despite the fact that three hands are clearly visible, two of which are holding each other,
the rest of the figure of Nefertiti is hardly visible. She is only represented as an outline, mim-
icking Akhenaten’s contours.36 This scene, dated to Akhenaten’s year 12, presents the last event
where all daughters of Nefertiti were still depicted, and therefore alive. Shortly after the Durbar,
Meketaten passed away.This was clearly an unforeseen event. In the Boundary Stelai, Akhenaten
had declared that a tomb must be constructed for him, his wife and his daughter Meritaten, in
the Royal Wadi east of the city. The Royal Tomb (nr. 26) contains three separate burial places,
of which the third one was never finished. The quality of the local limestone was very poor,
causing a lot of problems during the application of the decoration. Layers of gypsum were
necessary to fill in all voids and holes, but this makes the decoration very fragile. Due to the
untimely death of Meketaten, the original plans were changed, and a burial place for the young
princess was prepared in the Royal Tomb. Three rooms were hastily prepared and decorated for
her burial,37 but much of the decoration is now lost. In the years following its rediscovery, the
Royal Tomb was severely plundered and damaged.38 The remaining scenes show the burial of
the young princess, the strong and fierce queen portrayed as a grieving mother.39 Textual infor-
mation on the life at the city is scarce, and even though references to the daily life can be found
in the rock tombs, there are hardly any images of the royal family postdating the burial of their
daughter in the Royal Tomb.
Nefertiti was obviously not the only important woman at Amarna, as kings tended to have
multiple wives in those days. Even though the number of secondary wives of Akhenaten is not
known, several references to a king’s wife, Kiya, were found throughout the city.40 At some
point, probably around the 13th year of Akhenaten, she also disappears from the records.41 Her
name was replaced by that of Meritaten on several buildings such as the North Palace and the
Maru-​Aten.42 Meritaten herself had a special position in the city. She was the eldest of the
King’s daughters, but she also gained the title of Great King’s Wife, after her marriage with
Semenkhkare, the co-​regent of Akhenaten. Even though the reign of Semenkhkare probably
only lasted a year,43 Meritaten’s position at the court did not significantly alter, since she kept
her title after the death of her husband.
The presence of other King’s Wives did not influence Nefertiti’s exceptional position. The
ultimate example can be found on the corners of Akhenaten’s (badly damaged) sarcophagus.44 It
was a tradition of the 18th Dynasty to place the corners of royal sarcophagi under the protection
of the goddesses Isis, Nephtys, Neith, and Selkis, illustrated by representations of these goddesses
on the corners embracing the sarcophagus. On Akhenaten’s sarcophagus, these goddesses were
replaced by four figures of Nefertiti,45 placing her in the role of protection goddess.46

The aftermath
The years after Akhenaten’s death must have been extremely turbulent. The reformations of
the couple appeared to have an expiration date once Akhenaten’s direct influence was gone.

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Athena Van der Perre

It is generally known that the first steps toward the rehabilitation of the Amon cult were
taken before the start of Tutankhamun’s reign, almost immediately after Akhenaten’s death.47
Tutankhamun’s successors Ay and Horemheb played a major part in the restoration of the
ancient gods. The priests of Amon regained their status, temples all over the country were
reopened, and last but not least, all references to the Aten-​cult were removed. This was done
very thoroughly: the Amarna temples and their contents were destroyed and the stones reused as
filling for other building projects. Ramses (I), the general of Horemheb, would usurp the throne
after Horemheb’s death, officially starting the 19th Dynasty.The pharaohs of this dynasty would
actively continue the damnatio memoriae of the Amarna protagonists; for example, Ramses II also
reused an enormous amount of talatat blocks from Amarna in his constructions at Hermopolis.
Their main goal was to erase the Amarna Period and everyone connected to it from the annals,
and for some time, they appeared to have succeeded. The reuse of the blocks as filling, however,
preserved their decoration and inscriptions for eternity.
A vast amount of information has inevitably been lost, while other pieces might still be
discovered. Apart from Akhenaten’s sarcophagus, only two statues of Nefertiti are known that
might date to the later phases of the Amarna Period. First of all, two pieces of a shabti belonging
to Nefertiti were discovered in the Royal Tomb at Amarna.48 Nefertiti still carries the title Great
King’s wife on these figurines. According to Loeben, this proved that Nefertiti was buried while
she was still the wife of Akhenaten, and therefore that she must have died before her husband.49
Since then it has been proven that the two pieces do not belong to the same shabti, and that they
likely served as votive offerings during the burial of Akhenaten.50 This suggests that Akhenaten
predeceased his wife, a statement further confirmed by the second statue, the so-​called Elder
Nefertiti, discovered in the workshop of Thutmoses at Amarna and currently in Berlin.51 This
Amarna-​style statue clearly shows Nefertiti as a mature woman with crow’s feet around her eyes
and deep lines around the corners of her mouth. She is depicted here considerably older than in
her other well-​known statues, suggesting that it was made near the end of her life. As is proven
by her sagging breasts and rounded abdominal region, this statue is not only a very naturalistic
representation of an aging woman, but also the portrait of a mother of several children.
At this moment, the final resting place of Nefertiti is not known. According to the Boundary
Stelai, Nefertiti was supposed to be buried with her husband in the Royal Tomb at Amarna.
However, since she survived her husband and no traces of her burial were found in Amarna,52
it is likely that she was buried elsewhere. Given the restoration politics of Tutankhamun and the
fact that other members of the Amarna court, e.g. Akhenaten’s mother Tiye,53 were reburied
in the Valley of the Kings, it might have served as the final resting place for Nefertiti as well.
The mummy of the Younger Lady (discovered in KV35) is often identified as Nefertiti, but this
hypothesis is still under discussion.54 According to Reeves, she was actually buried inside the
tomb of Tutankhamun, but so far his investigations have not delivered the desired results.55

An alternative ending?
Many questions about the fate of Nefertiti remain unanswered, and yet several facts and possi-
bilities can be combined to create an alternative ending. When it comes to establishing the last
years of Nefertiti, the evidence becomes scarce and contradictory. For a long time, the death of
Nefertiti was placed in the 13th or 14th regnal year of Akhenaten. As we have seen, she was still
present during the Durbar in Year 1256 and she was depicted in the burial scenes of her daughter,
which presumably took place during Akhenaten’s 13th or 14th year.57 Since no conclusive
evidence was found to confirm that she was still (physically) present at the site afterwards, the
most likely conclusion appeared to be the untimely death of the Great King’s wife. The major

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The image of Nefertiti

problem with this hypothesis was that the burial scenes of her daughter were not dated, so they
offered the possibility for a considerable amount of speculations and wild theories. To name
but a few: Nefertiti died in a chariot accident in Akhenaten’s 14th year,58 was banished to the
North City,59 replaced as chief queen by Akhenaten’s concubine Kiya,60 or replaced by her own
daughter Meritaten.61 Apart from these—​rather gloomy—​theories, the possibility was also
raised that Nefertiti was still present in Amarna, but that she had changed her name and became
the co-​regent of her husband.62 Recently, in the limestone quarries of Dayr Abu Hinnis, some
15 km north of Amarna, evidence was found that disproves the majority of these highly specu-
lative theories. A quarry inscription about the construction of the Small Aten Temple mentions
the names and titles of the royal couple, and was dated in Year 16 of Akhenaten.63 This inscrip-
tion not only proves that Nefertiti was still alive in Akhenaten’s 16th year, but also shows that
she still carried the title of “Great King’s Wife.” Therefore, her position in the royal household
had not changed.
The quarries did not deliver any information on the successors or co-​regents of Akhenaten.
Apart from Tutankhamun, two other king’s names were attested in Amarna. The first name
was Ankh-​ kheperu-​ re Semenkhkare, the second Ankh-​ kheperu-​ re Neferneferuaten. Little
information is known on these shadowy characters. Both seemed to have been co-​regents of
Akhenaten, and both have been identified as an alias of Nefertiti at some point.64 The evidence
in the city of Amarna clearly shows that Semenkhkare was male, and married to Nefertiti’s
eldest daughter Meritaten. The information on Neferneferuaten is somewhat more ambiguous.
Publications before 1980 often considered these two persons to be one and the same, there-
fore complicating the research. Dodson has proven that there is a clear difference between
these two, and this is particularly visible in their use of epithets. While Semenkhkare never
used an epithet, the praenomen of Neferneferuaten is always followed by one.65 Some of the
epithets of Neferneferuaten not only confirm a close connection to Akhenaten, they also show
that Neferneferuaten was female. Not only is she called “the beloved of Akhenaten,” but also
one “who is effective for her husband.” Additionally, several ring bezels have been found in
Amarna, where the praenomen is written “Ankhet-​kheperu-​re,” including a female “t” ending
in Ankhet.66 Given the fact that Nefertiti had already added Neferneferuaten to her own name,
she is the most likely candidate.67
Around the 17th year of Akhenaten, things were changing in Amarna. Akhenaten felt the
need to appoint a co-​regent; whether he sensed that his end was near or other political events
were at stake is not known. The husband of Meritaten, Semenkhkare, had probably died after
a very short reign. Tutankhaten, born around Akhenaten’s 13th regnal year, was presumably
his only living male heir.68 It is likely that he was considered to be too young to rule, and
therefore Akhenaten appointed his chief queen Nefertiti as co-​regent. She changed her name
to Ankh-​kheperu-​re Neferneferuaten. Her daughter Meritaten still had the title of Great
King’s Wife and now formed a new royal triad together with her parents.69 Not long after
these measures, which were probably all arranged in his 17th regnal year, Akhenaten died.70
Nefertiti/​Neferneferuaten would start her own reign. Any references to Meritaten postdating
the death of Akhenaten are absent, suggesting that she too had died. Since no references to
other princesses have been found, Ankhesenpaaten might have been the only living daughter
of Nefertiti left at the court. The last documented regnal year of King Neferneferuaten, year 3,
is found in a graffito in Thebes.71 According to Reeves, several images of king Neferneferuaten
are known, but they have never been identified as such, since they were modified and added
to the tomb equipment of Tutankhamun. Several objects, statues, and even the famous golden
mask were adapted for the burial of Tutankhamun, even though they were initially made for
Neferneferuaten.72

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Athena Van der Perre

After Neferneferuaten’s death, the boy Tutankhaten ascended the throne. He was married
to Ankhesenpaaten, so once again, the title of Great King’s Wife would go to a daughter of
Nefertiti.The royal couple changed their names to Tutankhamun and Ankhesenamun, removing
all references to the Aten. With the death of Tutankhamun, the curtain falls over the Amarna
Period and the monotheistic cult of the Aten.
For a long time, the mystery surrounding the Amarna Period severely influenced the
research, resulting in biased views and numerous hypotheses built on mere speculations. In
recent years, new interpretations of the available archaeological and textual information were
combined with newly discovered elements. The evidence discussed above proves that Nefertiti
was not merely a beautiful concubine, but that she held a very high position at the court. The
first glimpses of her status were already visible during the early years at Thebes, where Nefertiti
is depicted in scenes that are normally preserved for the king. Her position at the court did not
alter during Akhenaten’s reign; she kept using crowns and scepters normally associated with the
king, suggesting that she was officially acting on the same level as the king. Eventually Nefertiti,
now operating under the alias Neferneferuaten, would reach the highest possible position, that
of (co-​)regent of the Egyptian empire.

Notes
1 Tyldesley 2006; Creasman et al. 2014: 275–​6.
2 Inventory Number ÄM 21300.
3 Voss 2012: 463–​64.
4 Even an exceptional exchange with unique objects from the Cairo museum was proposed, but after
long negotiations, it would be Adolf Hitler himself who rejected the final offer. For more informa-
tion on the discovery of the bust and its aftermath, see Jung 2012: 421–​6; Matthes 2012: 427–​37;Voss
2012: 460–​68.
5 Reeves 2005: 61–​62; Huber 2016: 12–​13.
6 Laboury states that, due to the very close connection between the artistic and religious revolution, the
style should be called “Atenist art.” Laboury 2011: 1.
7 Tyldesley 2005: 42–​3.
8 Ranke 1935: 201, no. 12.
9 Seyfied 2012: 189.
10 There is still some discussion on her name, since it can also be transcribed as Mutbenret. She is depicted
in several tombs at Amarna, often in the presence of the princesses and generally accompanied by her
two dwarfs. Examples can be found in the rock tombs of Parennefer (RT 7), Tutu (RT 8), May (RT
14), and Ay (RT 25); see Davies 1905 and 1908.
11 Teye is also depicted in Ay’s rock tomb at Amarna (RT 25); see Davies 1908: 16–​24. For the text, see
Murnane 1995: n° 58B.1F.
12 Borchardt 1905: 256–​70; Reeves 2005: 88–​9.
13 Ridley 2018: 950.
14 Davies 1923, 136f. In publications, the tombs of large cemeteries are generally referred to with
a specific code (usually an abbreviation of the name of the cemetery) followed by a number. For
the Theban Tombs, the non-​royal cemeteries in Western Thebes, TT + number is used. For the
royal tombs located at the Valley of the Kings, the abbreviation KV is used, followed by a number.
The rock tombs at Amarna, including both the north and south tombs, are referred to as RT +
number.
15 Published in Davies 1908.
16 Reeves 2005: 99.
17 The latter date is often based on the attestation of Meritaten as a toddler on the Boundary stele, dated
in the fifth year of the king. Therefore, she must have been born in the fourth year, immediately after
their marriage. See Gabolde 1998: xx.
18 Talatat blocks are blocks with a standard dimension of 1 cubit x ½ cubit x ½ cubit. Instead of using the
colossal blocks to construct massive walls, the masons worked with mud brick covered with a casing of

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The image of Nefertiti

these smaller stones. The main advantage of building with these blocks is that a block can be handled
by a single person.
19 Redford 1984: 78–​82 and figs. 6–​7.
20 Samson 1977: 90–​3; Tyldesley 2018: 89–​91.
21 Davies 1905: pl.VIII.
22 As seen on the column drum found by Petrie, currently in the Ashmolean Museum (inv. Nr. 1893.1.41).
23 The Khepresh, also known as the blue crown, is a headdress often worn by New Kingdom pharaohs
in battle or during royal ceremonies. Nefertiti is depicted wearing this particular crown on the stele of
Pasi (currently in Berlin, ÄM 17813).
24 This change was already noticed by Petrie during his excavations in 1891. Petrie 1894: 39.
25 Wilson 1973: 238.
26 Today known as Amarna, or Tell el-​Amarna. For a detailed description of the town, see Kemp 2012.
27 Kemp 2012: 34–​5.
28 Kemp 2012: 32 ff.
29 Seyfried 2012b: 190.
30 E.g. Davies 1905: pl. X.
31 E.g. Davies 1905: pl. XVI; Samson 1977: 88–​9.
32 The blocks were discovered by Roeder during his excavations at Hermopolis, see Roeder 1969: Tafel
191, PC 67.They are currently stored in the Museum of Fine Arts at Boston, accession number 64.521.
33 According to the known evidence, neither Amenhotep III nor Akhenaten ever went to battle.Tyldesley
2005: 62–​63.
34 E.g. Davies 1906, pl. XV.
35 Tyldesley 2005: 140.
36 Davies 1905: pls. XXXVII-​XXXVIII.
37 Two rooms (known as Rooms Alpha and Gamma) were decorated, Room Beta remained unfinished.
38 Part of the damage to the tomb, e.g. the mutilation of cartouches and depictions of the king and the
complete destruction of Akhenaten’s sarcophagus and other grave goods, must have taken place shortly
after the abandonment of the city. A detailed description of the tomb and its equipment can be found
in Martin 1974 and 1989.
39 Martin 1989: pls. 63, 68.
40 Harris 1974a: 25–​30.
41 The last datable reference to her is on a wine docket from Year 11.Van Dijk 1997: 36.
42 Reeves 2005: 120, 127.
43 For an overview of the known evidence on his reign, see Van der Perre 2014: 83–​96.
44 The sarcophagus was deliberately taken to pieces, probably in the turbulent aftermath of the Amarna
Period. It was reconstructed for the first time in the 1930s, and again around 1970. The coffin is cur-
rently standing in the garden of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. Eaton-​Krauss 2016: 90.
45 Wilson 1973: 239; Gabolde 1998: 129–​32, pl. XIV.
46 Eaton-​Krauss suggests that the base of Tutankhamun’s coffin was originally made for his predecessor
Neferneferuaten, based on the resemblance of this base to that of Akhenaten’s sarcophagus. Eaton-​
Krauss 2016: 90–​92.
47 Eaton-Krauss 2016: 33.
48 A shabti, also known as ushabti or shawabti, is a servant figurine that was a part of the funerary
equipment from the First Intermediate Period onwards. The figurine was supposed to carry out tasks
for the deceased in the afterworld. They are generally inscribed with the name of the deceased; see
Schneider 1977.
49 Loeben 1986: 99–​107.
50 Reeves 2005: 170.
51 Inventory number ÄM 21263, discovered by Borchardt in 1912.
52 She was not buried in the Royal Tomb. Tomb T29 in the Royal Wadi at Amarna might have been
intended as Nefertiti’s personal tomb, but was never finished. For a detailed description of the Royal
Wadi and its tombs, see Kemp 2016.
53 Tiye was reburied during the reign of Tutankhamun, either in KV55 (the tomb of Queen Tiye, Davis
1910) or in KV 22 (the tomb of Amenhotep III). Eaton-​Krauss 2016: 97. At some point, her mummy
was transferred to KV35, where it became known as “the Elder Lady.”
54 Even the DNA analyses did not solve the riddle, see Hawass et al. 2010.
55 Reeves 2015: 1–​16.

43
44

Athena Van der Perre

56 Davies 1905: pl. XXXVIII.

57 Martin 1989: pls. 63, 68.
58 Schlögl 2012: 90.
59 Hayes 1959: 296.
60 Woolley 1922: 81–​82.
61 Redford 1967: 175.
62 See Harris 1973a, 1973b, and 1974; Samson 1977. For an overview of these theories, see Van der Perre
2014: 67–​108.
63 Van der Perre 2014: 67–​108.
64 Allen 1991: 74–​85.
65 Dodson 2009b: 31–​2.
66 Petrie 1894: pl. XV, N°94.
67 Gabolde strongly rejects this theory. According to him, Meritaten is the only person who fits this
description. See Gabolde 1998: 174–​8; 2001: 28.
68 The parentage of Tutankhaten is still under discussion. For a (somewhat biased) overview of all known
facts, see Huber 2016.
69 They are mentioned together on the lid of a box from the tomb of Tutankhamun (Carter N° 1K/​
Cairo JE61500a).
70 This date is based on a wine jar label, mentioning the 17th regnal year of an anonymous king. Since
Akhenaten was the only king living in Amarna with such a long reign, this label has generally been
accepted as belonging to his reign. For the label, see Pendlebury and Černý 1951: 152, 159.
71 Gardiner 1928: 10–​11.
72 Reeves 2015b.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Allen, J.P. 1991. “Akhenaten’s ‘Mystery’ Coregent and Successor.” Amarna Letters 1: 74–​85.
Borchardt, L. 1905. “Der ägyptische Titel ‘Vater des Gottes’.” Berichte über die Verhandlungen der sächsischen
Akademie der Wissenschaften 57: 256–​70.
Creasman, P.P. Johnson, W.R., McClain, J.B., and R.H. Wilkinson. 2014. “Foundation or Completion? The
Status of Pharaoh-​Queen Tausret’s Temple of Millions of Years.” Near Eastern Archaeology 77, 4: 274–​83.
Davies, N. de G. 1905. The Rock Tombs of El Amarna. Part II: The Tombs of Panehesy and Meryra II.
Archaeological Survey of Egypt 14. London.
Davies, N. de G. 1906. The Rock Tombs of El Amarna. Part IV: The Tombs of Penthu, Mahu, and others.
Archaeological Survey of Egypt 16. London.
Davies, N. de G. 1908. The Rock Tombs of El Amarna. Part VI: The Tombs of Parennefer, Tutu, and Ay.
Archaeological Survey of Egypt 18. London.
Davies, N. de G. 1923. “Akhenaten at Thebes.” The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 9, 3–​4: 132–​52.
Davis, T.M. 1910. The Tomb of Queen Tîyi. London.
Dodson, A. 2009a. Amarna Sunset: Nefertiti, Tutankhamun, Ay, Horemheb, and the Egyptian
Counter-​Reformation. Cairo.
Dodson, A. 2009b. “Amarna Sunset: The Late-​Amarna Succession Revisited.” In S. Ikram and A. Dodson
(eds.), Beyond the Horizon: Studies in Egyptian Art, Archaeology and History in Honour of Barry J. Kemp.
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Eaton-​Krauss, M. 2016. The Unknown Tutankhamun. London.
Gabolde, M. 1998. D’Akhenaton à Toutânkhamon, vol. III. Collection de l’Institut d’Archéologie et d’Histoire
de l’Antiquité Université Lumière-​Lyon 2. Paris.
Gabolde, M. 2001. “Das Ende der Amarna Zeit.” In A. Grimm (ed.), Das Geheimnis des goldenen
Sarges: Echnaton und das Ende der Amarnazeit. Munich, 9–​41.
Gardiner, A.H. 1928. “The Graffito from the Tomb of Père.” The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 14,
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Harris, J.R. 1973a. “Neferneferuaten.” Göttinger Miszellen 4: 15–​17.

Harris, J.R. 1973b. “Nefertiti Rediviva.” Acta Orientalia 35: 5–​13.
Harris, J.R. 1974a. “Kiya.” Chronique d’Égypte 49: 25–​30.
Harris, J.R. 1974b. “Neferneferuaten Regnans.” Acta Orientalia 36: 11–​21.
Hawass, Z., Gad, Y.Z., Ismail, S., Khairat, R., Fathalla, D., Hasan, N., Ahmed, A., Elleithy, H., Ball, M.,
Gaballah, F., Wasef, S., Fateen, M., Amer, H., Gostner, P., Selim, A., Zink, A., and Pusch, C.M. 2010.
“Ancestry and Pathology in King Tutankhamun’s Family.” Journal of the American Medical Association 303,
7: 638–​47.
Hayes,W.C. 1959. The Scepter of Egypt: A Background for the Study of the Egyptian Antiquities in The Metropolitan
Museum of Art. Part 2: The Hyksos Period and the New Kingdom (1675–​1080 B.C.). Cambridge.
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Egyptian Archaeology 96: 191–​205.
Huber, M.T. 2016. Who was the Father of Tutankhamun? Norderstedt.
Jung, M. 2012. “100 Years of the Discovery of Nefertiti.” In F. Seyfried (ed.), In The Light of Amarna. 100
Years of the Nefertiti Discovery. Berlin, 421–​6.
Kemp, B.J. 2012. The City of Akhenaten and Nefertiti: Amarna and Its People. London.
Kemp, B. 2016. The Amarna Royal Tombs at Amarna [online]. www.amarnaproject.com/​documents/​pdf/​
Amarna-​Royal-​Tombs.pdf (accessed July 1, 2019).
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Loeben, C.E. 1986. “Eine Bestattung der groβen königlichen Gemachlin Nofretete in Amarna?
Die Totenfigur der Nofretete.” Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Abteilung Kairo
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Martin, G.T. 1974. The Rock Tombs of El-​’Amarna. Part VII: The Royal Tomb of El-​’Amarna. 1: The Objects.
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Inscriptions, and Architecture. Archaeological Survey of Egypt 39. London.
Matthes, O. 2012. “Ludwig Borchardt, James Simon and the colourful Nefertiti bust in the first year after
her discovery.” In F. Seyfried (ed.), In The Light of Amarna: 100 Years of the Nefertiti Discovery. Berlin,
427–​37.
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Excavations at Tell El-​Amarna during the Seasons 1926–​1927 and 1931–​1936. The Egypt Exploration
Society Memoirs 44. London.
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and Culture of Ancient Egypt: Studies in Honor of Dorothea Arnold. Bulletin of the Egyptological Seminar
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Samson, J. 1977. “Nefertiti’s Regality.” The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 63 : 88–​97.
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Years of the Nefertiti Discovery. Berlin, 170–​87.
Seyfried, F. 2012b. “Nefertiti: What remains but beauty?” In F. Seyfried (ed.), In The Light of Amarna. 100
Years of the Nefertiti Discovery. Berlin, 189–​94.
Tyldesley, J. 2005. Nefertiti: Unlocking the Mystery Surrounding Egypt’s Most Famous and Beautiful Queen.
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Chronicles Series. London.
Tyldesley, J. 2018. Nefertiti’s Face: The Creation of an Icon. Cambridge.
Van der Perre, A. 2014. “The Year 16 Graffito of Akhenaten in Dayr Abū Ḥinnis: A Contribution to the
Study of the Later Years of Nefertiti.” Journal of Egyptian History 7: 67–​108.
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J. van Dijk (Ed.), Essays on Ancient Egypt in Honour of Herman te Velde. Groningen, 33–​46.
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5
THE GOD’S WIFE OF AMUN
Origins and rise to power

Mariam F. Ayad

The earliest occurrence of the title “God’s Wife” dates to the Middle Kingdom, when a “God’s
Wife of Min” is attested near Akhmim.1 This rather obscure instance of the title seems to have
been associated with a non-​royal woman, and may have spurred the later formulation of the
title “God’s Wife of Amun,” which occurs in this fuller form only at the beginning of the 18th
Dynasty when King Ahmose bestows it on his Chief Royal Wife, Ahmose-​Nefertari.2 Ahmose
had just succeeded in expelling the Hyksos from Egypt and embarked on a series of measures
meant to consolidate his power over a newly-​reunited Egypt. Only trusted members of the
royal family could now be given positions of importance: a crown prince was put in charge of
the army; another royal son was put in charge of Nubia.3 It is in this context that we must see his
appointment of the Chief Royal Wife as a God’s Wife of Amun.4 He also established an irrevoc-
able endowment for the God’s Wife that no future king would be able to challenge.5 Associated
with this estate was an extensive staff of scribes and administrators.6
Throughout the early 18th Dynasty, powerful women continued to hold the title of God’s
Wife of Amun.7 Hatshepsut may even have used her position as God’s Wife of Amun to shore
up support for her claim to the Egyptian throne.8 That this title remained Hatshepsut’s favorite
even as a queen regnant is clear from her frequent use of it as her sole title before her cartouche.9
In what may be viewed as a backlash to her reign and her power as a God’s Wife and a queen
regnant, the office falls into oblivion after the reign of Hatshepsut.10
At the beginning of the 19th Dynasty, when once more the kings of the new dynasty needed
to consolidate their power, the title was bestowed on the Chief Royal Wives of the first two
kings of the 19th Dynasty: Sat-​re, wife of Ramses I, and Tuy, wife of Seti I.11 Tausert, wife of
Siptah, and later queen regnant in her own right, also held the title of God’s Wife of Amun.12
Later in the New Kingdom, a daughter of Ramses VI, Isis, is given the title dwꜢn nṯr, or
“Divine Adorer.”13 While this title was closely associated with the title of God’s Wife, the two
titles were not interchangeable, even though occasionally the same royal woman (e.g. Ahmose-​
Nefertari) could claim both titles.14
With the decline of royal authority at the end of the New Kingdom, the High Priests of
Amun at Karnak (Thebes) claimed ever increasing powers. For example, the High Priest of
Amun, Herihor, was also in charge of the military as “overseer of the army” (ἰmy-​r mšʿ). At the
temple of Khonsu at Karnak, in complete disregard of royal authority, Herihor claims the title

47
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Mariam F. Ayad

of king of Upper and Lower Egypt (nsw bity), encloses his name and titles in the royal double
cartouche, and uses his own “renaissance” (wḥm mswt) dating system to date newly-​constructed
monuments.15
Rulers of Dynasties 21 through 24 were of Libyan origin, as probably also were the High
Priests of Amun (HPA) of that period.16 The increasing fragmentation characteristic of this era
may have been precipitated by the feudal nature of Egypt’s Libyan overlords.17 Rival dynasts
would set up courts in various Delta towns, each claiming to be the king of Upper and Lower
Egypt, while in reality probably controlling only a few miles beyond their residence. There was
some fluidity in the dynamics governing the relationships between the HPA and the various
Delta dynasts. While Herihor’s successors as High Priests of Amun continued to challenge the
king’s authority, a series of marriage alliances were forged between the HPA at Thebes on the
one hand and the Libyan dynasts residing in the Delta on the other. Such alliances were often
used to shore up the royal claims of one over the other. A HPA, such as Psusennes of Dynasty
21, could become king and move to the Delta, while a Delta/​Libyan prince could be appointed
as HPA at Karnak.18 Occasionally these tenuous alliances fell apart or were not enough to ward
off the prospect of civil war, as recounted, for example, in the Chronicle of Prince Osorkon.19
Possibly because of their role in their fathers’ marriage alliances, several women who rose to
prominence at this time were the wives of the High Priests of Amun, and also royal princesses.20
Koromama and Maatkare in particular seem to have been quite influential, as both women held
the title “Divine Adorer.”21
It is within this turbulent milieu that the office of the God’s Wife of Amun was restored
and bestowed upon Shepenwepet I, daughter of Osorkon III of the 23rd Dynasty. The exact
date and circumstances surrounding her installation are not quite clear. But it seems that her
installation as God’s Wife coincided with the elevation of her brother,Takeloth—​then the High
Priest of Amun at Karnak—​to the position of co-​regent.22 At her appointment, Shepenwepet
I acquired the throne/​official name, Khenemetamun, and enclosed her names in the royal double
cartouche.23 Her choice of official name may have been inspired by Hatshepsut’s epithet,
Khenemetibamun, which she enclosed in the royal cartouche, alongside her given name.24 The
royal practice of adapting a forebear’s name using a similar, but not identical variant, to forge a
connection with a predecessor has been well-​documented for Egyptian kings.25
Shepenwepet’s rise to prominence is chronicled in iconographic scenes decorating the walls
of a small chapel in East Karnak.26 The chapel’s decoration features kings Osorkon III and
Takeloth III of the late Libyan 23rd Dynasty, often depicted in symmetrically opposed scenes,
as they are shown entering the chapel and officiating before various gods.27 But whereas each
of the two co-​regents is depicted 12 times in the chapel’s decorative scheme, Shepenwepet
I is shown 15 separate times, prompting Redford to suggest that the chapel was built to com-
memorate her installation as a God’s Wife of Amun.28 In fact, Shepenwepet I is depicted five
times on the chapel’s original façade. There, she is shown in symmetrically opposed scenes that
frame the doorway into the chapel, being suckled by a goddess and crowned by Amun.29 Being
suckled by a goddess was a privilege not previously granted a woman. Indeed, only the king
could be depicted in this manner. The milk of a goddess is thought to have imbued the king
with his divinity.30 Scenes showing the king being suckled by a goddess are typically found on
occasions where he needed to assert his divinity and/​or his legitimacy: at his coronation and
while celebrating the exclusively royal sed-​festival. 31 Often referred to as a “royal jubilee,” the
sed-​festival may also be understood as a confirmation of the king’s priestly role as the sole medi-
ator between the human and divine realms.32 On the façade, Shepenwepet I plays the sistrum
before Egypt’s three national deities as her father, Osorkon III, depicted behind her, consecrates
offerings.33 An Egyptian approaching the chapel would have been struck by the frequency and

48
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The God’s Wife of Amun

the manner in which Shepenwepet is represented, and would have understood these scenes as
affirming her legitimacy.
In c.728 BCE, the Nubians led by Piye managed to advance to Thebes. He may have arranged
to have his sister Amenirdis I appointed as God’s Wife of Amun then.34 Amenirdis I seems to
have been able to forge alliances with the Theban elite so that, when Piye came to Thebes a few
years later, he met with no resistance.35
Amenirdis and/​or her advisors must have immediately recognized the legitimating value
of the scenes depicting Shepenwepet I described above (see p. 48). Using bigger, better-​hewn
blocks of stone, the Nubians added a third room of slightly bigger dimensions to the chapel.36
The original façade of the Libyan chapel was incorporated, unaltered, into the Nubian add-
ition, as its southern wall. Shepenwepet I’s scenes were not appropriated. Likewise, her name
was not erased nor replaced by Amenirdis. Instead, new scenes depicting Shepenwepet I were
commissioned and integrated into the decorative scheme of the Nubian addition. On the
eastern wall, Shepenwepet I is depicted on the upper register offering Maat37to Amun and
receiving a multi-​layered, beaded necklace used in temple ritual known as the menat-​necklace
from Isis,38 while, on the lower register of the same wall, Amenirdis I is shown receiving life
from Amun and sed-​festival symbols from Mut, his divine consort.39 Scenes depicted on this wall
had until then been uniquely the prerogative of the king. Typically, a king would receive life
in the same scene where he offers Maat to the gods.40 But here, the quid pro quo transaction is
divided between the two God’s Wives, so that one offers and the other receives.41
On the façade of the Nubian addition to the chapel, Shepenwepet I and Amenirdis I appear
offering to the gods in eight vignettes framing the doorway to the chapel.42 In these symmetric-
ally opposed complementary scenes, Amenirdis is consistently oriented toward the right, while
Shepenwepet I faces left. Amenirdis’ rightward orientation in these scenes asserts her higher
status as a member of the new ruling dynasty.43
Likewise, Amenirdis’ chosen official name, Khanefererumut, further affirms her links to the
new ruling family. The verb “ḫʿἰ,” constituting the first element of her name, means to “appear
in glory,” and was often used in conjunction with the rising sun or the glorious appearance of
the king before his subjects.44 The verb “ḫʿἰ” was an element favored by other members of the
Nubian dynasty, as seen particularly in the royal names acquired by kings Piye, Shebitko, and
Taharqa at their enthronement.45 Thus, while Amenirdis built on the legitimacy already gained
by Shepenwepet I in the inner decoration of chapel, on the Nubian façade, she—​very subtly—​
asserted her dominance over her predecessor.46
Amenirdis also claims sole credit for the construction of this chapel, whose name, Osiris-​
ḥḳꜢ-​ḏt (or “Osiris, Ruler of Eternity”) derives from three dedicatory inscriptions in which
Amenirdis declares that she “built this monument for her father Osiris, Ruler of Eternity.”47
Notably, Amenirdis was the first woman since Ahmes-​Nefertari to combine the titles of “God’s
Wife,” “Divine Worshipper,” and “God’s Hand.” A small statue of queen Ahmes-​Nefertari
discovered while clearing the floor of the Nubian addition to the chapel seems to point to the
source of inspiration for Amenirdis’ titles.48
Amenirdis I was succeeded in office by her niece, Shepenwepet II, daughter of Piye.
Shepenwepet II quickly implemented several measures to establish her legitimacy. At Medinet
Habu, she demolished an earlier mud-​brick funerary chapel constructed for Amenirdis and
erected in its place a “monument for eternity” made of stone.49 There, she is repeatedly shown
performing funerary rites for Amenirdis I. The establishment of the funerary cult for her pre-
decessor legitimated her claim to office just as it had, centuries earlier, when King Ay, at the end
of the 18th Dynasty, performed the Opening of the Mouth Ritual for King Tut-​ankh-​Amun to
legitimate his claim to the Egyptian throne.50

49
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Mariam F. Ayad

Possibly to further shore up her position, Shepenwepet II included representations of

Amenirdis I on several of her own monuments. On a lintel in the chapel of Osiris, Lord of
Life (“nb ʿnḫ”), the central Osirian cartouche giving this chapel its name is flanked by sym-
metrically opposed scenes showing king Taharqa and the God’s Wife offering round-​shaped
containers known as nou-​jars, and being embraced by various gods.51 But whereas Taharqa
is shown twice on the left side, offering to Osiris and Isis and being embraced by Horus, on
the right side Shepenwepet II offers nou-​jars to Ptah and Hathor, but it is Amenirdis I who is
embraced by the goddess Hathor. In this scene, Amenirdis was already deceased as indicated
by the epithet “mꜢʿ ḫrw” (or “justified”) inscribed after her cartouche. Similarly, on the right
jamb, a goddess embraces Shepenwepet II, who is identified by her titles and name. But
instead of including her double cartouche, the second cartouche is preceded by the words
“mwt.s ḏrt nṯr,” or “her mother, the god’s hand” and encircles the name of Amenirdis, also
deceased (“mꜢʿ ḫrw”).52
Likewise, Amenirdis, deceased (“mꜢʽ ḫrw”), is included in the decorative scheme of the façade
of the chapel of Osiris-​Wennofer-​who-​is-​in-​the-​midst-​of-​the-​Persea-​tree (“ḥry-​ἰb pꜢ išd”). On
the doorjambs of that chapel, both Amenirdis I and Shepenwepet II are represented in sym-
metrically opposed scenes clingingly embracing the god Amun-​Re.53 Here also, the phrase
“her mother” precedes Amenirdis’ cartouche. In what could be viewed as an act of deference,
Shepenwepet II cedes the rightward orientation to her predecessor, electing to be depicted
facing left. But in choosing that orientation, Shepenwepet II mimicked both the posture and
orientation of the goddess Mut who is similarly represented on the southern half of the east
wall of the Karnak hypostyle hall.54 There, the scene depicts the conjugal union of Amun and
Mut in the heavenly realm, while king Seti I offers incense before the divine couple’s icon (see
Figure 5.1).55
Shepenwepet II also commissioned at least two statues showing her as a female sphinx.While
a few female sphinxes are known from the Old Kingdom onwards, these strictly belonged to
royal wives. However, Shepenwepet II’s sphinxes stand out in terms of their size and may have
been commissioned to commemorate her participation in the New Year’s renewal rites and to
“regenerate her own—​sacral—​rulership parallel to the kingship of Taharqa.”56
Indeed, a God’s Wife, probably Shepenwepet II,57 appears on par with king Taharqa in scenes
inscribed on the walls of his edifice by the Sacred Lake at Karnak. On a lintel in subterranean
room E in that structure, a God’s Wife wearing a tight sheath dress draws an arrow through a
double-​arched bow as she aims at the uppermost of four round-​shaped targets. On the other
side of the central depiction of the cenotaph of Osiris, king Taharqa strides to the right as he
uses a bat to strike four balls that are shown in the exact moment they are released from his hand
as he aims at four targets.58 Captions under each of the targets indicate that they represent the
four cardinal points.The outward orientation of the figures of both the king and the God’s Wife
reinforces the protective nature of their gestures as they partner in warding off the forces of evil
threatening the cenotaph of Osiris. The active stance taken by the God’s Wife is unique. Also
unparalleled are the rites of the elevation of the ṯst-​column, depicted on an adjacent wall in the
same room. While in this instance, the God’s Wife partners with four different priests, the four
deities represented on each of the four ṯst-​columns may be understood as local manifestations
of the god Amun, each associated with a geographic locality.59 Goyon has suggested that these
scenes represented rites asserting divine—​and by extension royal—​dominion over the extrem-
ities of the earth.60

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The God’s Wife of Amun

Figure 5.1 Mut embracing Amun. Karnak Hypostyle Hall, east wall, south half
Source: Photograph by Mariam F. Ayad

Similar rites aiming at protection of the nation, and featuring a similarly attired God’s Wife,
appear on the walls of the newly-​restored Chapelle Rouge erected by Hatshepsut at Karnak.
There, on the north wall of the sanctuary, in a voodoo-​like ritual, the God’s Wife partners with
a high-​ranking priest (whose title was “God’s Father”) in the act of burning fans bearing the
images of Egypt’s enemies.61 Here, too, the God’s Wife is unnamed, possibly because naming a
specific woman would have jeopardized the efficacy of her acts of ritual protection. In the rites
of elevating the ṯst-​columns, she is labeled as a “God’s Wife of This God,” possibly in a direct
allusion to the protective powers of a (divine?) wife.62
In the courtyard of the funerary chapel of Amenirdis I at Medinet Habu, Shepenwepet II
performs the ritual of “Driving the Four Calves” (“ḥwt bḥsw”) for the benefit of the divine
triad: Osiris, Horus, and deified Amenirdis (who appears here in Isis’ stead) (see Figures 5.2a
and b).63 The rite, which is typically performed for the benefit of a temple’s resident deity, has
agrarian and Osirian connotations.64 As such, it was an exclusively royal ritual. The only female
ruler to perform it, Hatshepsut, is shown in male costume and regalia when depicted enacting
the ritual.65 But not once does Shepenwepet II disguise her femininity.

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Mariam F. Ayad

Figure 5.2a Shepenwepet II performing the Figure 5.2b Shepenwepet II offering to Ra-​
ritual Driving the four Calves (hout behesou) for Horakhty, Isis, and deified Amenirdis I. Courtyard,
Osiris, Horus, and deified Amenirdis I. Courtyard, Funerary Chapel of Amenirdis I, Medinet Habu
Funerary Chapel of Amenirdis I, Medinet Habu Source: Photograph by Mariam F. Ayad
Source: Photograph by Mariam F. Ayad

Finally, clinching her priestly role, Shepenwepet II is unprecedentedly depicted cele-

brating the sed-​festival. Scenes of her sed-​festival decorated a chapel that once stood in
North Karnak.66 While Amenirdis received sed-​festival symbols from Mut in the chapel of
Osiris, Ruler of Eternity, as discussed above (see p. 49), Shepenwepet II was the first women
shown celebrating it, as a king would, enthroned (on a special seat associated only with sed-​
festival celebrations known as the sepa-​seat), while masked men representing the souls Pe and
Nekhen kneel before her pounding their chests in celebration.67 Whether considered a “royal
jubilee” or a confirmation of the king’s priestly role, the sed-​festival was the royal rite par
excellence. No one but the king had previously been shown celebrating it. Possibly because
of the sheer effrontery of Shepenwepet II’s celebratory scenes, the chapel was dismantled
in antiquity, its blocks used as fill blocks in the ramp leading into the temple of Monthu in
North Karnak.68
In Thebes, both Amenirdis I and Shepenwepet II are featured more prominently than a
Nubian King’s Wife.69 They are shown offering Maat to the gods, who embrace them, crown
them, and give them life in return.70 While it may be tempting to see a Nubian connection to
the prominent priestly role played by both women, a recent study demonstrated the Egyptian
nature of the way in which they are represented on these Theban chapels.71
Five blocks recovered from the temple of Mut at Karnak, and currently in the Egyptian
Museum, Cairo (JE 31886), show a God’s Wife arriving by boat at a Theban quay.72 There, she
is greeted by the incumbent God’s Wife of Amun, Shepenwepet, and other Theban dignitaries,
including the mayor of Thebes, Mentuemhat.73 While it is possible that this scene represents the
arrival of Amenirdis at Thebes,74 the blocks seem to give visual expression to events described
in the “Nitocris Adoption Stele.”
That granite stele commemorates the Saite King Psametik’s decision to appoint his daughter,
Nitocris, as God’s Wife of Amun at Thebes.75 Adopting a royal perspective, the stele details all
aspects of that appointment, from the moment the king calls in his courtiers for advice, to the
dates of Nitocris’ departure from court and arrival at Thebes, to the extensive list of provisions

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given Nitocris, not only by her father, but also by temples in Lower, Middle and Upper Egypt.76
It also lists the daily and monthly gifts made by Theban dignitaries and members of their fam-
ilies, and is thus useful in understanding wealth distribution and power structures at the onset
of the Saite dominion.77
It is on this stele that we see, for the first time, a codification of the idea that succession
to office occurred through adoption. Psametik declares (line 4): “I will give her to her to be
her eldest daughter, just as she was made over to the sister of her father.”78 While the probably
intentionally ambiguous use of pronouns has led to some debate regarding the identity of the
adoptive mother (whether it was Shepenwepet II or her heiress apparent, Amenirdis II),79 it is
instructive to consider the nature and use of adoption in ancient Egyptian legal documents.
In ancient Egypt, adoption was often used as a means of transferring property to someone
other than the rightful heir.80 Viewed as a “transfer of title” deed, the Nitocris Adoption Stele
not only commemorated the installation of a new God’s Wife, but also served as a legal docu-
ment sealing the transfer of the entirety of the estate of the God’s Wife of Amun to the new
incumbent.81
Once in office, Nitocris continues the tradition of dedicating Osirian chapels at Karnak.82
At Medinet Habu, she modified the original plan of Shepenwepet II’s funerary chapel to
accommodate a cella for herself and another for her mother on either side of Shepenwepet’s
central cella.83 Recently, inscribed blocks recovered from Naga Malgata, the North Karnak
area to the west of the enclosure of the god Monthu, have been identified as belonging to
the residence of the God’s Wife of Amun.84 Biographical inscriptions preserved on a statue
of the Chief Steward of Nitocris, Ibi (Cairo JE 36158), detail the specifications of a resi-
dence that Ibi constructed for his mistress.85 The description mentioned there (stone jambs;
columned room) seems to match the archaeological remains found at Naga Malgata, making
the identification of those archaeological remains found there with the residence of the
God’s Wife plausible.86
In due course, Nitocris adopted a successor, Ankhnesneferibre, daughter of Psametik II.
The accession to office is recorded in the Ankhnesneferibre Adoption Stele.87 Unlike the
Nitocris Adoption Stele, which narrates the events of her installation from a royal perspec-
tive, this stele has a distinctly Theban outlook.88 There, for the first time, we read about initi-
ation rites associated with the installation of a God’s Wife into office. Although not specified
in great detail, these rites seem to include the tying of a special ribbon.89 Decorated blocks
that once stood in the residence of the God’s Wives of Amun in North Karnak depict the
induction rites of the God’s Wife, albeit those performed for Nitocris.90 There, she is shown
being led by the god Monthu to Amun, kneeling to Amun as he crowns her, and standing
before Amun who embraces her.91 To further establish her legitimacy, the text of the stele
calls Ankhnesneferibre Nitocris’ daughter and narrates how “her daughter, the first prophet
Ankhnesneferibre, did for her everything which is done for every beneficent king.” 92 Thus,
just as Shepenwepet II had provided for the funerary cult of her predecessor, so also did
Ankhnesneferibre.
That on her adoption stele, Ankhnesneferibre is officially identified as the “first prophet
of Amun,” or “high priestess of Amun” (“ḥm nṯr tpy”)—​a title that she holds even as “heiress
apparent” to the God’s Wife—​may be seen as the culmination of a long process toward the
priesthood that started with Shepenwepet I and gained momentum under the Nubian God’s
Wives, particularly under Shepenwepet II.93 On her adoption stele, Ankhnesneferibre assumes
her official name, Heqatneferoumut. Whereas her two immediate predecessors had chosen similar

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Mariam F. Ayad

names, which can both be translated as “Mistress of Beauty is Mut,” the inclusion of the element
ḥḳꜢ is intriguing.94 Written using the shepherd’s crook (Gardiner sign list # S38),95 the Egyptian
word ḥḳꜢ, or “ruler,” visually stresses the king’s role as the ultimate shepherd of his people.
Ankhnesneferibre’s deliberate use of that element is evident on her siltstone sarcophagus
(British Museum EA32). On the lid of her sarcophagus, Ankhnesneferibre is depicted clutching
the royal insignia of a crook and a flair across her chest.96
Yet her own biographical texts, preserved on one of her statues (Cairo CG 42205) emphasize
the feminine themes of personal charm, musical ability, and physical beauty.97 Ankhnesneferibre’s
self-​presentation on that statue is in marked contrast with both her chosen throne name and the
manner in which she is represented on her sarcophagus. Likewise, this text contrasts sharply with
the assertiveness found in Amenirdis’ biographical texts inscribed on two of her statues (Cairo
CG 565 and 42198).98 There, Amenirdis emphasizes her moral character and ability to help
her townsfolk. Amenirdis’ use of phrases typically found in the ideal (male) official biography
may be related to the political instability of the early Nubian period, while Ankhnesneferibre’s
docile self-​presentation can be linked to the political stability achieved after several decades of
Saite rule. Women’s ability to express—​and exercise—​agency thus seems to have been inversely
proportional to political stability.99
Nonetheless, Ankhnesneferibre constructed or enlarged several Osirian chapels at
Karnak,100 and built a funerary chapel for herself in the vicinity of the funerary temple of
Ramses III at Medinet Habu.101 Indeed, the piety of all five women is evident in their active
construction of numerous Osirian chapels at Karnak and enactment of recitation-​based rit-
uals.102 The Saite God’s Wives’ concern for legitimacy is also evident in their inclusion of
their (Nubian) predecessors in the decorative programs of the buildings they constructed.
This apparent continuity suggests that the God’s Wives of Amun’s residence in Naga Malgata
functioned as a “dynastic palace” that was used by “successive God’s Wives” and their staff.103
Lastly, all God’s Wives of Amun of Dynasties 23–​26 appear without a spouse in the dec-
orative schemes preserved on their monuments. While this may be construed as an indi-
cator of their unmarried state, it should be noted that there were certain restrictions on the
depictions of husbands on funerary monuments belonging to their wives.104 The issue of
the celibacy of God’s Wives of Amun has been the subject of some debate, but their long
tenures in office do imply that they were spared the dangers of childbearing and child-
birth.105 Politically as well, it was expedient that these five women remain single so as not to
use their enormous religious, political, and economic powers to generate dynastic lines that
would rival the king.106

Conclusion
It does seem that since its full formulation at the beginning of the Eighteenth Dynasty, the
office of God’s Wife of Amun was politically manipulated to shore up the king’s power and
consolidate his authority. During the turbulent years of the Third Intermediate Period, the
political potential of the office was fully exploited when rival dynasts used it, and the women
who held it, to achieve a smooth transition of power in the Theban region. Shortly after the
Persian conquest of Egypt in the spring of 525 BCE, the office of the God’s Wife of Amun
disappeared. The Persians’ military superiority ensured that they did not need to break their
own social norms by installing a royal daughter in such a position of supreme political, eco-
nomic, and religious power. Once the (political) need for the office disappeared, so did the
office itself.107

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Notes
1 Gitton 1984: 5.
2 Gitton 1975; Gitton 1984: 39–​42.
3 O’Connor 1983: 207–​9.
4 Ayad 2001: 9.
5 Harari 1959: 139–​201; Gitton 1984: 28–​31; contra, Logan 2000: 63–​64; Bryan 2005: 4.
6 Graefe 1981.
7 Sander-​Hansen 1940: 6–​7, 13; Gitton 1984: 44–​93; Robins 1983: 65–​78.
8 Robins 1983: 73–​4.
9 Robins 1983: 73. See also Roehrig 2005: 216–​7, for Hatshepsut’s kohl jar (MMA 26.7.1437) now in
the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Taking the shape of an oval, a car-
touche enclosed two of the king’s names: his given name and his throne name. A queen’s names could
also sometimes be enclosed in the royal cartouche.
10 Robins 1983: 76–​7.
11 Sander-​Hansen 1940: 7, 13–​14; Gosselin 2007: 26–​97.
12 Sander-​Hansen 1940: 7, 13–​14; Gosselin 2007: 120–​8.
13 Bács 1995: 7–​11;Traunecker 2010b: 23–​32; Gosselin 2007: 193–​208. For Isis’ pyramidion in the British
Museum (no. 1742), see Bierbrier 1982: 17 and pls. 30–​1.
14 Ayad 2009a: 3–​4.
15 PM II: 229–​34; Epigraphic Survey 1979; Kitchen 1995: 3–​6, 248–​54.
16 Becker 2016: 41. For the Libyan ancestry of Herihor, see Ritner 2009a: 83–​7.
17 Ritner 2009b: 327–​40.
18 Kitchen 1995: 28–​30, 262–​3.
19 Caminos 1958; Ritner 2009a: 348–​77; Kitchen 1995: 329–​33. See also Kitchen 1995: 347 for the “War
of the High Priest.”
20 Becker 2016; Kitchen 1995: 52–​68.
21 Lefèvre 2010: 33–​42; Gosselin 2007: 214–​38; Kitchen 1995: 58–​61.
22 Ayad 2009a: 16; Kitchen 1995: 201, 356.
23 No royal prince or princess had previously acquired the privilege of a cartouche.
24 Ayad 2009a: 29–​31.
25 Leprohon 1996: 171; Kitchen 1987: 131–​41.
26 PM II, 204–​6; Legrain 1900: 125–​36, 146–​9.
27 Redford 1973: 20–​1.
28 Redford 1973: 21.
29 PM II: 205 (11); Schwaller de Lubicz 1999: pl. 237; Ayad 2009a: 124–​7 and fig. 3.4; Ayad 2009b: 34–​6.
30 See bibliography in Ayad 2009a: 127 and Ayad 2009b: 36.
31 Leclant 1965: 91–​3 and pl. LVIII; Ayad 2009a: 110–​15 and fig. 2.28.
32 Bleeker 1967: 113–​23.
33 PM II: 205 (9); Redford 1973: 21 and pls. XX-​XXI; Ayad 2009a: 124; Ayad 2009b: 32–​4 and fig. 3.
34 Ayad 2003: 33; Ayad 2009a: 16; Kitchen 1995: 151.
35 Kitchen 1995: 150, 363–​5, 370.
36 Redford 1973: 19; Ayad 2009a: 18.
37 In Egyptian mythology, Maat, represented as a seated woman with a feather on her head, was the per-
sonification of “Order,” “Harmony,” and “Truth.” Often, it is said that Maat is the food that the gods
craved. It was the king’s sole duty to maintain Maat, both by doing good, but also by driving away the
forces of evil. Iconographically, the king’s fulfilment of his duty is expressed in scenes showing the king
presenting a statuette of Maat to the gods.
38 PM II: 205 (6); Schwaller de Lubicz 1999: pl. 234; Ayad 2009b: 41–​2 and fig. 9.
39 Ayad 2009a: 114–​5.
40 Teeter 1997: 3.
41 Ayad 2009b: 46–​9.
42 PM II: 205 (4); Leclant 1965: pl. XXIV; Ayad 2009b: 38–​9 and figs. 6–​7.
43 Ayad 2009b: 46–​7 and fig. 12; Robins 1994: 33–​40.
44 Schunk 1985.
45 Von Beckerath 1984: 269–​71; Ayad 2009a: 29, 31–​2.
46 Ayad 2009b: 46–​7.

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Mariam F. Ayad

47 Ayad 2009b: 40; Legrain 1900: 126–​7.

48 Legrain 1900: 135; Ayad 2003: 20.
49 PM II: 476–​8; Hölscher: 20–​3, fig. 24, pl. 2; Ayad 2003: 55.
50 Ayad 2009a: 133–​4.This is the only known instance where a king performs this ritual for a predecessor.
51 PM II: 194 (2); Leclant 1965: fig. 3 on p. 28; Ayad 2009a: 75–​8; Legrain 1902: 208–​14.
52 Leclant 1965: 28 (fig. 3); Ayad 2009a: 133–​4.
53 PM II: 202 (1); Leclant 1965, pls. XVIII-​XIX; Schwaller de Lubicz 1999: pl. 239; Ayad 2009a: 134–​7;
Coulon, Hallmann, and Payraudeau 2018: 286 (Fig. 8).
54 Nelson 1981: pls. 107, 260; Ayad 2009a: 135–​6.
55 Handoussa 2003: 107–​10; Ayad 2009a: 137 and figs. 3.11 and 3.12 on p. 138.
56 Aufderhaar 2016: 137, 145.
57 For the rationale for that identification, see Ayad 2007: 6–​7.
58 Parker, Leclant, and Goyon 1979: pl. 25; Ayad 2009a: 87–​9.
59 Parker, Leclant, and Goyon 1979: 65–​9 and pl. 26; Ayad 2007: 4–​6.
60 Parker, Leclant, and Goyon 1979: 63–​4, 69, and 83–​4.
61 Burgos and Larché 2006: 213 (bloc 37); Ritner 1993: 118; Ayad 2009a: 90–​3.
62 Ayad 2007: 7–​8; Ayad 2009a: 96–​9.
63 Ayad 2009a: 103–​6.
64 Ayad 2009a: 106–​7. See also Egberts 1995: 335–​74. The ritual itself is what’s special, as is the number
4. Although the color and arrangement of the calves have been studied extensively by Egberts, no fur-
ther explanation of their existence has been suggested.
65 Ayad 2009a: 107. See for example, Naville 1908: 7 and pl. CLXI.
66 For blocks constituting this chapel, see Barguet et al. 1954: 109–​27, figs. 117–​25, and pls. XCVI-​CXII,
particularly pp. 121–​3 and pl. CIV.
67 Leclant 1965: 91–​3 and pl. LVIII; Ayad 2009a: 110–​15 and fig. 2.28.
68 The building was dismantled.The ramp itself dates to the Ptolemaic period, several hundred years later.
The Ptolemies could have used the already dismantled and scattered blocks for their purposes.
69 Lohwasser 2001: 61–​76.
70 Ayad 2009a: 61–​9, 82–​6.
71 Lohwasser 2016: 132.
72 PM II: 257–​8 (9).
73 Daressy 1919: 31–​2; Foucart 1924: 118–​20 and pl. 9B; Leclant 1965: 114–​5; Kitchen 1995: 236–​9,
403–​4; Broekman 2009: 101; Leahy 2011: 210–​11; Perdu 2011: 225–​40.
74 Broekman 2009: 101; Perdu 2011: 238–​9.
75 Caminos 1964: 71–​101; Kitchen 1995: 403–​4.
76 Caminos 1964: 75–​6 and pls. IX-​X (lines 17–​30); Bryan 2005: 10; Charron 2010.
77 Blöbaum 2016: 198.
78 Caminos 1964: 74 and pl.VIII (line 4).
79 Caminos 1964: 97–​8.
80 Gardiner 1940: 23–​9; Allam 1990: 189–​91.
81 Bryan 2005: 11–​12; Ayad 2009a: 139–​40.
82 PM II: 192–​3; Christophe 1951: 29–​48, 113–​28 and pls. xlv-​xlvi; Coulon and Laisney 2015: 81–​171;
Coulon, Hallmann, and Payraudeau 2018: 278–​80.
83 PM II: 479–​80; Hölscher 1954, 23–​8 and figs 28–​9; Christophe 1951: 129–​31.
84 Coulon and Laisney 2015: 81–​171; Coulon 2014a: 565–​85.
85 Graefe 1994; Ritner 2009a: 591–​2.
86 Coulon 2014a: 566.
87 Legrain 1905: 81–​2; Maspero 1905: 84–​93; Leahy 1996: 145–​65.
88 Leahy 1996: 154–​5.
89 Leahy 1996: 148, lines 11–​12 of her stele shown as fig. 1 on p. 146.
90 Christophe 1951: pl. xlv (37); Coulon 2014a: 566; Charron 2010: 43–​52.
91 Coulon and Laisney 2015, 136 and figs. 59–​62 on pp. 147–​9.
92 Leahy 1996: 148, lines 8–​9 on fig. 1 on p. 146.
93 Leahy 1996: lines 5 and 10–​9 on fig. 1 on pp. 146, 148, 158; Ayad 2009a: 116–​24.
94 Leahy 1996: 146, 149; Ayad 2009a: 29.
95 Gardiner 1957: 508.
96 Wagner 2016.

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The God’s Wife of Amun

97 Jansen-​Winkeln 2004: 364, 367; Ayad 2019: 236.

98 Legrain 1914: 6–​8 and pl.VI; Jansen-​Winkeln 2004: 365–​6; Ayad 2019: 234.
99 Ayad 2019: 236–​8.
100 PM II: 192–​4; Coulon and Defernez 2004, 135–​90; Traunecker 2010a, 155–​94; Coulon and Laisney
2015: 81–​171; Coulon, Hallmann, and Payraudeau 2018: 281–​2.
101 Hölscher 1954: 28–​9.
102 Traunecker 2010c: 79.
103 Coulon 2014a: 582.
104 Roth 1999: 37–​53.
105 Bibliography and arguments summarized in Ayad 2009a: 142–​52.
106 Ayad 2001: 9.
107 Ayad 2001.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

PM II Porter, B. and Moss, R.L.B. 1972. Topographic Bibliography of Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphic Texts,
Reliefs, and Paintings, vol. III: Egyptian Temples. Oxford.

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Graefe, E. 1981. Untersuchungen zur Verwaltung und Geschichte der Institution der Gottesgemahlin des Amun vom
Beginn des Neuen Reiches bis zur Spätzeit, 2 vols. Ägyptologische Abhandelungen 37. Wiesbaden.
Graefe, E. 1994. "Der autobiographische Text des Ibi. Obervermögensverwalter der Gottesgemahlin
Nitocris, auf Kairo (JE 36158)." Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Abteilung Kairo
50: 85–​99.
Handoussa, T. 2003. “The Rebirth of Ramses II in the Hypostyle Hall of Karnak.” In N. Grimmal, A.
Kamel, and C.-​M. Sheikholeslami (eds.), Hommages à Fayza Haikal. Cairo.
Harari, I. 1959. “Nature de la stèle de donation de function du roi Ahmôsis à la reine Ahmès-​Nefertari.”
Annales du Service des antiquités de l’égypte 56: 139–​201.
Hölscher, U. 1954. Medinet Habu V: The Post-​Ramessid Remains. Oriental Institute Publications 66. Chicago.
Jansen-​Winkeln, K. 2004. “Bemerkungen zu den Frauenbiographien der Spätzeit.” Altorientalische
Forschungen 31, 2: 358–​73.
Jansen-​Winkeln, K. 2007–​2014. Inschriften der Spätzeit. I-​IV: Die 21.-​26. Dynastie. Wiesbaden.
Kitchen, K.A. 1987.“The Titularies of the Ramesside Kings as Expression of Their Ideal Kingship.” Annales
du service des antiquités de l’égypte 71: 131–​41.
Kitchen, K.A. 1995. The Third Intermediate Period in Egypt. Warminster.
Koch, C. 2012. “Die den Amun mit ihrer Stimme zufriedenstellen”: Gottesgemahlinnen und Musikerinnen im
thebanischen Amunstaat von der 22. bis zu 26. Dynastie. Berlin.
Leahy, A. 1996. “The Adoption of Ankhnesneferibre at Karnak.” Journal of Egyptian Archaeology
82: 145–​65.
Leahy, A. 2011. “Somtuefnakht of Heracleopolis: The Art and Politics of Self-​commemoration in
the Seventh Century BC.” In D. Devauchelle (ed.), La XXVIe dynastie continuités et ruptures. Paris,
197–​223.

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Leclant, J. 1965. Recherches sur les monuments thébains de la XXVe dynastie dite éthiopienne. Cairo.
Lefèvre, D. 2010. “Karomama et les divines adoratrices de la troisième période intermédiaire.” Égypte
Afrique & Orient 56: 33–​42.
Legrain, G. 1900. “Le temple et les chapelles d’Osiris à Karnak: Le temple d’ Osiris-​ Hiq-​ Djeto
.” Recueil de travaux relatifs à la philologie et à l’archéologie égyptiennes et assyriennes 22: 125–​36, 146–​9.
Legrain, G. 1902. “Le temple et les chapelles d’Osiris à Karnak III: La chapelle d’ Osiris-​Maître de la Vie
.” Recueil de travaux relatifs à la philologie et à l’archéologie égyptiennes et assyriennes 24: 208–​14.
Legrain, G. 1905. “Renseignements sur les dernières découvertes faites à Karnak III.” Recueil de travaux
relatifs à la philologie et à l’archéologie égyptiennes et assyriennes 27: 61–​82.
Legrain, G. 1914. Statues et statuettes de rois et de particuliers, III. Cairo.
Leprohon, R.J. 1996. “The Propagandistic Use of the Royal Titulary in the Twelfth Dynasty.” Journal of the
American Research Center in Egypt 33: 165–​71.
Logan,T. 2000. “The Jmyt-​pr Document: Form, Function, and Significance.” Journal of the American Research
Center in Egypt 37: 49–​73.
Lohwasser, A. 2001. “Queenship in Kush: Status, Role, and Ideology of Royal Women.” Journal of the
American Research Center in Egypt 38: 61–​76.
Lohwasser, A. 2016. “‘Nubianness’ and the God’s Wives of the 25th Dynasty: Office Holders, the
Institution, Reception, and Reaction.” In M. Becker, A.I. Blöbaum, and A. Lohwasser (eds.), “Prayer
and Power”: Proceedings of the Conference on the God’s Wives of Amun in Egypt during the First Millennium
BC. Münster, 121–​37.
Maspero, G. 1905. “Deux monuments de la princesse Ankhnesnofiribrî.” Annales du Service des antiquités de
l’égypte 5, 84–​93.
Naville, E. 1908. The Temple of Deir el Bahari,VI: Lower Terrace. London.
Nelson, H.H. 1981.The Great Hypostyle Hall at Karnak, I.1: The Wall Reliefs. Chicago.
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et al. (eds.), Ancient Egypt: A Social History. Cambridge.
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du règne d’Osorkon II.” In L. Coulon (ed.), Le culte d’Osiris au Ier millénaire a.v. J.C. Cairo, 101–​122.
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dynastie continuités et ruptures. Paris, 225–​240.
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Paintings, II: Theban Temples. Oxford.
Redford, D.B. 1973. “An Interim Report on the Second Season of Work at the Temple of Osiris, Ruler of
Eternity, Karnak.” Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 59: 16–​30.
Ritner, R K. 1993. The Mechanics of Magic in Ancient Egypt. SAOC 54. Chicago.
Ritner, R.K. 2009a. The Libyan Anarchy: Inscriptions from Egypt’s Third Intermediate Period. Atlanta.
Ritner, R.K. 2009b. “Fragmentation and Re-​integration in the Third Intermediate Period.” In G.P.F.
Broekman, R. J. Demarée, and O. Kaper (eds.), The Libyan Period in Egypt: Historical and Chronological
Problems of the Third Intermediate Period. Leiden, 327–​340.
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(eds.), Images of Women in Antiquity. London, 65–​78.
Robins, G. 1994. “Some Principles of Compositional Dominance and Gender Hierarchy in Egyptian Art.”
Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt 31: 33–​40.
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American Research in Egypt 36: 37–​53.
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culte d’Osiris au Ier millénaire a.v. J.C. Cairo, 155–​194.
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6
THE ROLE AND STATUS
OF ROYAL WOMEN IN KUSH
Angelika Lohwasser

Introduction
The region known as Nubia, situated south of Egypt, upstream from the first Nile cataract,
1

is an important bridge between the Mediterranean world and inner Africa.2 Most relevant
is the relationship to Egypt, the cultural and economic strong neighbor to the north. The
cultures of ancient Sudan stay incomprehensible without knowledge of the pharaonic cul-
ture. The appearance of the material culture of the Kingdom of Kush in particular expresses a
strong Egyptian influence; this influence was rooted in the long-​lasting contacts between the
two lands, especially in the phase of Egyptian domination over Kush.3 Egypt tried to gain con-
trol over Nubia because of its desire to gain access to the goods of inner Africa as well as the
goldmines in Lower Nubia. In the New Kingdom (1650–​1070 BCE), Egypt occupied Nubia,
and some Nubian inhabitants adopted certain forms of Egyptian culture, visible especially in
grave goods. After the end of Egyptian political presence in Nubia, an indigenous kingdom
emerged. Scholars call it “the Kingdom of Kush,” as Kush is the Egyptian toponym for the
region of Nubia.4 The kingdom of Kush extended from the first Nile cataract at the southern
border of Egypt to about the area of confluence of the two Niles, at today’s Sudanese capital,
Khartoum. However, the limits of the kingdom of Kush’s sphere of influence are still not clear;
researchers especially disagree about whether Kush had dominion over the hinterland of the
Nile, but also about its general southern expansion.
In a short phase of Kush’s history, in the late eighth and in the first half of the seventh cen-
tury BCE, the “black pharaohs” of Kush also ruled Egypt.5 During this time, Egyptian cul-
tural elements were taken over, partially adapted, and embedded in the written and pictorial
presentation of the royal family. The Kushite king appears in the iconography of the Egyptian
pharaoh, including the adoption of the Egyptian royal titular with two names in cartouches.
The period between the eighth and fourth centuries BCE is called the Napatan Period of the
kingdom of Kush. In that time, texts were written with Egyptian hieroglyphs and in Egyptian
language, which, however, was used exclusively in the royal and religious sphere. In addition,
the appearance of visual presentations (statuary, relief) was strongly influenced by the Egyptian
canon of art and Egyptian iconography. With the relocation of the royal cemetery from the
region around the Jebel Barkal, the sacral center of the empire, to the south, into the region of
Meroe—​long since become the governmental and administrative headquarters—​an increasingly

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visible indigenous component is superimposed on the Egyptian element. Egyptian script and
language are largely abandoned and their own language, called Meroitic, is written with its own
characters. This second phase of the kingdom of Kush, from the third century BCE to the third
century CE, is labeled the Meroitic Period.

Sources
For the reconstruction of the position of the royal woman in Kush, we can refer to contem-
porary archaeological (above all graves), pictorial (reliefs on steles and temples), and written
sources. The latter, however, can currently only be evaluated for the Napatan period, since,
though the Meroitic script has been deciphered since 1909, the language is still incomprehen-
sible, except for a few words. However, there are some meaningful references in the opus of
classical authors who relate wonders about the Meroitic queens. In this respect, some statements
are applicable to royal women of the kingdom of Kush in general, others—​such as the fact that
a woman was able to act as ruling queen—​only for one of the two periods.

Archaeological sources
Archaeological sources include the graves of royal women. These are situated, like the graves of
the rulers themselves, in the cemeteries of El Kurru, Nuri, Jebel Barkal and Meroe (Beg. S and
Beg. N).6 Parallel to the tombs of kings there is an architectural development that leads from
very simple tombs to substructures with two rooms, a pyramidal superstructure, and a funerary
chapel. However, this configuration only affects the tombs of women in the highest positions,
especially queen mothers and some wives. Women of the royal court in a subordinate position,
usually minor wives and daughters, often have only very small shaft graves. Nonetheless, even
these small tombs can be equipped with a high quality grave inventory. In the excavations by
G.A. Reisner, finds from precious metals to prestigious imports have been made in all these
cemeteries.

Pictorial presentations
Pictorial representations we know especially from temple or funerary chapel reliefs and the
lunettes of stelai (e.g. Figure 6.1).7
There are very few statues of royal women,8 and hardly any paintings are preserved.9 Both in
temple depictions and on the stelai, the royal women are usually involved in scenes in which the
king is indeed the main actor, but they are also actively involved in the cult. From the Napatan
period, the temple for Amun in Kawa10 and the temple for Mut at Jebel Barkal11 should be
mentioned, since they are at least partly preserved and bear substantial relief. Other sanctuaries
dating from this period are severely destroyed and give little or no trace of decoration.12 Also
from Kawa and the Jebel Barkal originate large stelai with official inscriptions.13 In the lunette,
the king is usually accompanied by a royal wife or mother.
In the Meroitic period, most of our knowledge about pictorial presentations derives from
the temples of Naqa and a few other sacral buildings, as well as some stelai.14 A huge corpus
of pictures of royal women originates from the decoration of funerary chapels in the royal
cemeteries of Meroe.15 There are royal women either depicted centrally as the deceased or as
marginal figures in royal tombs. The outstanding corpus of seal-​r ings of queen Amanishakheto
can be used as an additional source, since its decoration shows motifs which can be interpreted
as various aspects of queenship.16 Most prominent is the cycle of divine birth and royal

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The role and status of royal women in Kush

Figure 6.1 Lunette of the coronation stele of king Aspelta. His mother Nasalsa is depicted in front of
Amun and the king, rattling the sistra and presenting the “speech” to ask for the kingship for her son.
Cairo Egyptian Museum JE 48866
Source: Grimal 1981: pl.V © Nicolas Grimal

inauguration, depicted on six rings in total.17 According to Kushite ideas, the ruler—​in this
case Amanishakheto—​is an offspring of Amun, major god of the realm. The child is presented
to the king’s mother who elects the future king or ruling queen. This election is repeated or
confirmed by Amun.

(Egyptian) texts
From the Napatan period texts are preserved in Egyptian hieroglyphs and in the Egyptian
language. These allow a deep insight not only into the history of events—​the texts contain
descriptions of campaigns, cult activities, and other incidents—​but also into the ideology of
kingship. Here also royal women play a certain role. The inscriptions to scenes in temples
provide information and can be evaluated as sources.18 Unfortunately, texts from the
Meroitic period are largely incomprehensible and can only to a limited degree be considered
as a source for the position of royal women, even though at least titles and names are
handed down.

Classical authors
The area called “Ethiopia” by classical authors is often associated with wondrous and extraor-
dinary attributes. One of these peculiarities, which has been discussed several times, is the fact
that women could also rule in this country. The “one-​eyed queen Kandake” defied even the

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Angelika Lohwasser

Roman invaders. However, one has to be cautious with these sources, as the details are not
based on primary information. They can be handed down through several intervening if not
lost sources and correspondingly altered. Nonetheless, these comments may also help round out
the image of royal women in Kush.19

Appearance in textual and visual representations

Names and titles
Nearly all preserved names of royal women are Meroitic, thus indigenous. A few Kushite
women with Egyptian names are known in the 25th Dynasty, but their names may also have
had Meroitic versions. Several theophorous names, all composed with the name of the god
Amani (Amun), are also known. Although they are more typical in the Meroitic period (as in
Anamirenas, Amanishakheto, Amanitore), a few of them already appeared in the Napatan period
(like Amanimalol, Amanitakaye, Tekehatamani). As with the royal names, they are all used only
once, which is a clear contrast to the Egyptian naming practice, where very often the same
names are given within a family, but also within a period of time.
All titles and epithets documented for Napatan royal women are borrowed from the
Egyptian terminology. But, in contrast to the Egyptian system, the titles in Kush are generally
not numerous.20 Only a few titles indicate a priestly role, like jḥy.t (singer). Some titles imply
a specific status at court (rpʽt.t, noblewoman); others are analogous to king’s titles expressing
dominion (nb.t tꜢ.wj, Lady of the Two Lands).Yet other titles, especially those with the element
ḥnw.t (mistress), hint at a political duty, but the precise meaning remains unclear.21 The epithets
express the esteem in which the bearers were held, or refer to pleasant characteristics. All these
epithets, like “great of praise,” “sweet of love,” or “great one of loveliness,” seem to convey no
profounder significance.22
In the Meroitic period, two distinct titles are given to royal women: qore and kandake. Qore
means “ruler, king” and is documented earlier, in Egyptian sources.23 Only ruling kings and
queens are given this title; thus, it is not a general title of Meroitic royal women. While qore
is used by male as well as female monarchs, kandake is exclusive to royal women. Only a few
women are attributed with this title,24 which seems to define the highest rank in the royal
court. Its precise meaning is unclear, but presumably it identifies the mother of the ruler. Bion
of Soloi (third century BCE) mentions that “The mother of each king they call Candace.”25
Later on, it was even thought that kandake was a personal name. Strabo, who claims to have
visited “Aithiopia,” mentions, “Queen Candace, who ruled the Aithiopians in my time.”26 Early
European travelers to Sudan also understood it as a personal name. Scholarly discussion on the
title kandake focuses on a translation like King’s Mother, whereas two of the known kandake bear
the title qore as well. This suggests the possible interpretation that these women were not only
mothers of the king but also rulers, perhaps for their underage sons.

Costume
There is a remarkable difference between Napatan and Meroitic representations of royal women.
In contrast to Napatan royal women’s clothing, the costume of the Meroitic queen is similar to
that of the king. In the Napatan period, women wore an indigenous costume, different from
that of the Egyptian queens, while the appearance of the Kushite king does resemble that of
the Egyptian one, except for some additional specific details. In the Meroitic period, both male
and female royal appearance differ from the Egyptian counterpart and are analogous in their
presentation.
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The role and status of royal women in Kush

The Napatan queens wrapped a large shawl around the body below the armpits or around
the hips. A second shawl, which could be fringed or decorated with woven stripes, was worn
over the first. Sometimes women draped a sash over the shoulder. A small tab-​like element hangs
below the edge of a dress, reaching the ground. This distinctive element has been described as a
“little tail” which can be interpreted as an animal-​tail (fox?) as a counterpart to the king’s bull’s
tail.27 Napatan women were depicted with their natural hair, in contrast to the wigs of contem-
porary Egyptian women. The “Kushite headdress,” an unusual headgear with band-​like elem-
ents springing upward from tiny “supports” to arch down over the back of the head, is worn in
a few instances. These elements might be interpreted as feathers.
Royal women of Kush wore headdresses and crowns similar to their Egyptian counterparts.28
This usage is in contrast to the dress and hairstyle of Kushite royal women, features which have
a totally indigenous appearance. Kushite royal woman are seldom depicted wearing the vulture
headdress. Often a fillet that served to secure a lotus blossom at the forehead and/​or a uraeus
was tied around the head.The most frequently documented headgear consists of double plumes
with a sun disc and cow horns. The headdress is short and squat in comparison to its Egyptian
prototype and provided a basis for later Meroitic styles.
In Meroitic times, male and female royal vestments consisted of a long underdress and a coat
with pleats and fringes at the bottom and at the vertical edge.29
A shawl with long fringes drapes over the right shoulder. Another element of the royal regalia
is the tasseled cord hanging down from the shoulders of the royal person. Another costume of
the queen is a dress covered with wings and feathers of the falcon. The skirt is overloaded with
feathers and even with the talons of the bird. A girdle with two uraeus-​serpents keeps the skirt
tight. The upper part of the body can be nude.
The Meroitic queen wore sandals, broad bracelets with decoration, and also jewelry on the
upper arm. A famous accessory is the necklace with large spherical beads already common in
the Nubian Kerma culture of the second millennium BCE. Broad necklaces, rings, and earrings
are typical. On the head, the queen can wear a cap with a uraeus (sometimes with the body of a
falcon), the Hathor-​crown, the feathers of Amun or other crowns.
The most notable feature of the presentation of the Meroitic queens is their opulent body.
In contrast to goddesses, who are depicted as very slim, the Meroitic queen is shown very fat,
again a noticeably different image from that of Napatan queens, who were represented as much
slimmer, although with pronounced hips. This corpulence could hint at a specific ideal of
beauty or a high social status involving abundant food without need of physical labor, which is
the case in many African societies even today.30
Two Meroitic royal women, Amanishakheto and Amanitore, are several times depicted
with extremely long fingernails. Both of these women were exceptional exemplars in many
ways: Amanishakheto was the most prominent ruling queen and Amanitore the most prom-
inent kandake. It is difficult to estimate the meaning of the depiction of these long fingernails: it
might be an ethnic marker, but it could be a social marker as well since the fingernails prevent
the queens from working with their hands or from grasping things with their fingers. The nails
could also indicate a certain taboo.31
Amanishakheto is the only royal woman who is depicted with scars on her face. On the relief
of her pyramid chapel, three slightly bent and diagonal lines on her cheek are clearly visible.
Again these scars have been interpreted as ethnic markers, since they occur on several depictions
of non-​royal people of various origins.32 They could have other purposes as well, like beauti-
fication, medical or religious reasons, or markers of social status.33 The long fingernails and the
scars are not part of the general costume of the Meroitic royal women, but appear for specific
queens only.

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The functions of the royal women in the Kushite kingdom

Especially when exploring the functions of the royal women, Egyptian parallels have to be
used again, since the architectural and ideological conception of temples, their image program,
and motifs in texts are heavily based on Egyptian models. As a rule, interpretations have there-
fore been made analogous to those of Egyptian culture. However, some details show Kushite
adaptations and therefore it can be assumed that some ideas, although represented in Egyptian-​
like material culture, are to be understood differently.

Roles in cultic actions

In the cult of the gods, the royal women of Kush assisted the kings by shaking the sistrum
(a rattling instrument) and pouring a libation, both actions part of preparation for commu-
nication with the gods. Furthermore, the libation of liquid is an offering by itself and might
express a wish for fertility.Thus, the Kushite royal women participated in a cult that in contem-
porary Egypt was restricted to the king.34 These activities are depicted most prominently on the
lunettes of the official royal stelai, thus marking the pre-​eminent importance of this exact part
of the cultic action.
In the Meroitic period, and especially at the time of the male qore Natakamani and kandake
Amanitore (first century BCE)—​the rulers who left most of the representations so far known—​
a queen could act like a king. She is depicted smiting or spearing the enemy, an archaic Egyptian
motif demonstrating absolute power (see Figure 6.2).35 Moreover, she raises her hands in ador-
ation in front of the gods in the temple, thus performing cultic actions in parallel to the king.
On the Amun-​temple at Naqa, Amanitore is even shown receiving the crowns from the gods—​
usually a prerogative of the king.36 It is only for Amanitore that sources are so numerous that an
interpretation is possible. Other kandakes are much less visible in the record; thus, it is uncertain
if Amanitore was just an exception.

Roles in succession and coronation

Besides titles and epithets, royal women bear kinship terms: royal mother, wife, sister, or
daughter. Interpretation of these terms is crucial for understanding the succession to the throne
of Kush. Different reconstructions of the succession system have been proposed: patrilinear,
matrilinear, collateral, election, adoption, and variations including elements of several of these
options.37 There are arguments for each of these systems and the problem seems unresolved as
yet. Although the scholarly community does not agree on their specific function, it seems clear
that royal women were intensively involved in the succession system. “Mother of the King”
seems to be the highest rank within the kinship terms and it is this royal woman who occupies
a specific role also at the coronation of the king.
The most important event that ensured the continuity of kingship was the enthronement
of the new king. Royal women were mentioned and represented in the context of the coron-
ation ceremonies. In Kush, the coronation was symbolized by the “presenting of a figure of the
goddess Ma’at (who represents the world order), pectoral, and necklace by the king” motif.38
This scene is depicted in the lunette of several royal stelai as well as on temple walls. In each
case the king is accompanied by two royal women, usually a “Mother of the King” and a “Wife
of the King.” They assist him at the occasion of this crucial ceremony by shaking sistra and
pouring a libation. Their presence at this very moment implies that the female complementary

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The role and status of royal women in Kush

Figure 6.2 Pylon of the pyramid chapel of Amanishakheto (Beg. N6). The Meroitic ruling queen is
depicted in the scene “spearing the enemy,” a prerogative of the king
Source: LD vol.V: pl. 40

aspect was eminently important. In the Napatan period, no representation of the coronation
exists without royal women.
Apart from the involvement in this action, especially the “Mother of the King” played a
decisive role in other areas as well. Besides her potential influence in the succession system—​
if one favors the interpretation of a matrilineal system of succession or at least a matrilineal
influence—​she made a journey to her newly crowned son and delivered a speech to Amun to
bestow the rulership to “their” son. For both actions there are textual sources, all of them dating
to the Napatan period (see Figure 6.1, p. 63). Therefore, we cannot trace this motive into the
Meroitic period as well, but perhaps two seal rings of Amanishakheto hint at a similar practice
in that time. One shows the election of the future ruler by the queen, who grasps the elbow
of the child.39 This gesture has been interpreted as depicting, in ritual context, the king as the
predestined choice of the gods.40 On the other ring, the goddess Mut—​as divine aspect of the
earthly queen—​presents the future king before Amun/​Amani.41 Although we do not yet have
an explicit mention of the role of Meroitic royal wives in the coronation ceremony, these rings
might refer to it.
Like the “Mother of the King” in the Napatan period, the title kandake may imply a Meroitic
kinship term and is therefore a hint for its role in the succession. Nevertheless, as already pointed
out, the interpretation of kandake is far from clear.

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Roles in the ideology of kingship

The lunettes of royal Napatan stelai are a good starting point to place royal women within
the conceptual frame of Kushite kingship. In the Napatan period, the king is depicted
accompanied by his mother and wife. The opposing male and female principles form a
whole. They complement each other and are essential for ongoing renewal.42 The guar-
antee for continuation of life and kingdom is visible in the complementary male/​female
dichotomy. But it is not only the complementary nature of gender that is depicted by the
king and his female companions; they represent different generations, too. The generations
are the basis for movement, for perpetual development and renewal. The king’s mother is
a symbol of the ancestors. Through her presence, the king is linked to his forefathers and
through the presence of his wife he is connected to the future and the eternal continuation
of kingship.
Moreover, these two women depicted in the lunettes show layers of the influence of queen-
ship. The rule of the king is based on two factors guaranteeing the durability of rulership: the
initial and unique action of a god and the continuous exercising of rulership by the king is
ritualized in the coronation (granted by the god) and the performance of kingly duties such as
cult activities, temple construction, and guaranteeing order in the kingdom. Therefore, we can
connect the unique occurrence of “becoming a king” with the continuum of “being a king.”43
Kushite queenship should be integrated into this scheme. The antithetical composition of the
lunette renders this image precisely in its Kushite manifestation. On one side, the “Mother of
the King” is shown in a manner entirely characteristic for Kush: she bears responsibility for
her son becoming a king, by her descent and by her ritual role in the coronation ceremonies.
On the other side, the “Wife of the King” accompanies him. She is the female component that
complements the male ruler.Without the female component, renewal is impossible. Her task lies
in continually reiterating that the king exists and endures.Therefore, queenship as a component
of rulership is responsible for guaranteeing the kingship of the king and thus the continued
existence of the kingdom. Without the female aspect, rulership would not function. The con-
cept of queenship in Kush gave royal women the opportunity to become active participants in
the state.

Ruling queens
In the Meroitic period, certain royal women ascended to the throne. Although the title qore
is primarily male, the representation of the ruling queens was explicitly female: whereas their
costumes were created with reference to the male royal dress, their impressive curves were a
strong statement of femininity.
We know at least nine ruling queens by their tombs in Meroe.44 They date to the period
between the end of the second century BCE and the beginning of the fourth century CE.
Only a few of these queens left evidence apart from their pyramid chapels: the most famous
are Amanirenase and Amanishakheto (see Figure 6.2, p. 67). Both of them could have been
the opponents of the Roman legions, since they lived in the second half of the first cen-
tury BCE. While Amanirenase erected two monumental stelai with a long Meroitic—​thus
not comprehensible—​inscription, qore Amanishakheto is depicted only on smaller stelai.
Nevertheless, the composition of the scenes gives the impression that Amanishakheto might
have been deified by her successors.45 Moreover it is this queen whose throne treasure was
found in her tomb. Her divine birth as well as the godly election is depicted on her golden
seal rings.46

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The role and status of royal women in Kush

In the depictions of the queens on their pyramid chapels, we find the representation of a
(usually anonymous) man behind the queen. This evidence can be supplemented by the similar
depiction of a man behind the female qore Shanakhdakhete in temple F at Naqa.47 It is rea-
sonable to interpret these men as the counterpart of the female ruler. In Napatan times, the
royal women formed a significant factor in the Kushite kingship. Without the queenship, this
kingship would be inconceivable. This “female complement,” manifested as a wife and as a
mother, does not apply to a female ruler, a Meroitic qore. Perhaps the men who appear among
the Meroitic female rulers are seen as the “male complement” necessary for their legitimacy? If
the ideology of the Kushite kingdom is built upon complementary male and female aspects—​
or powers—​the male king needs a female companion like the royal women presented in the
lunettes of the Napatan stelai, and the female qore needs a male support as on the depictions in
the Meroitic pyramid chapels.

Final remarks
Queenship in Kush fulfilled the task of complementing kingship with the feminine aspect of
royal ideology. At the same time, several female rulers are known in the first few centuries CE,
who, like the male kings before and after them, were able to lead the empire politically (war
against Rome) as well as sacrally (execution of the divine cult). This fact, coupled with the
remoteness of the country, made classical authors, early explorers, as well as modern scholars,
think of Kush as an exotic matriarchy. This conclusion cannot be confirmed by the available
sources, but considerable evidence definitely indicates a form of rule in which the feminine
aspect had a significant share.

Notes
1 A well-​defined terminology is not settled yet. Following Pope (2014: XIX) I understand “Nubia” as
the region, and people from Nubia as “Nubians.” “Kush” is the name of the kingdom of the eighth
century BCE to fourth century CE, and persons conducting the rule are known as “Kushites.”
2 For a general introduction to the cultures of ancient Nubia see Raue 2019 and Emberling and Williams
in press.
3 For this influential phase in Nubia see Spencer, Stevens, and Binder 2017.
4 No indigenous toponym is transmitted.
5 Morkot 2000.
6 Modern Begrawiya. All royal cemeteries of Kush were excavated by G.A. Reisner in the early twen-
tieth century. Publications: Dunham 1950; Dunham 1955; Dunham 1957.
7 For the Napatan period see the catalogue in Lohwasser 2001a. For the Meroitic period a comprehen-
sive publication is lacking, but see Kuckertz in press for the first century BCE.
8 Napatan period: Torso of Amanimalol (Wildung 1996: 222–​3); Meroitic period: double statue of
Shanakdakhete or Nahirqo (Cairo Egyptian Museum CG 684, Wenig 1978: 212–​4).
9 Napatan period: painted tomb of Qalhata (Ku. 5, Dunham 1950: pl. IX, X); Meroitic period: a few
preserved panels in temple M720 in Meroe (Bradley 2003).
10 Macadam 1955.
11 Robisek 1989.
12 Like the Amun-​ temple of Sanam, where a scene with a royal woman is preserved (Griffith
1922: pl. XLV).
13 Macadam 1949; Grimal 1981.
14 For the Lion-​temple see Gamer-​Wallert 1983; for the Amun-​temple LD V: Bl. 66–​9; online at: http://​
edoc3.bibliothek.uni-​halle.de/​lepsius/​tafelwa5.html. For a general discussion of Meroitic temples, see
Kuckertz 2019. For the recent excavations of Naqa, including the stelai, see Kröper, Schoske, and
Wildung 2011.
15 Chapman and Dunham 1952.

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Angelika Lohwasser

16 Priese 1993.
17 Lohwasser 2001b.
18 Literature and translation in FHN I, FHN II.
19 Literature and translation in FHN II, FHN III.
20 Lohwasser 2001a: 192–​209.
21 Pope 2014: 222–​3.
22 Contra Török 1995: 102–​8.
23 Priese 1968.
24 Amanirenase, Amanishakheto, and Amanitore.
25 Act. Apost. 8.27. For translation and comment see FHN II: 549–​51 (nos. 105, 106).
26 Geogr. XVII, 1, 53–​54. For translation and comment see FHN III: 828–​35 (No. 190).
27 Lohwasser 1999.
28 See the discussion in Lohwasser 2001a: 219–​25.
29 Török 1990.
30 See Kendall (1989: 655–​8) on ethnographic parallels of female corpulence.
31 For a discussion with literature see Kuckertz in press.
32 King Natakamani, who might be from the same family, is depicted likewise with three scars on his
cheek. Therefore, it might be the marker of a clan. In general see Kendall 1989: 672–​80; Lohwasser
2012: 543–​9.
33 See Kuckertz in press.
34 Lohwasser 1998.
35 Visible for example at the Lion-​temple in Naqa, see Gamer-​Wallert 1983: Bl. 2.
36 LD V: Bl. 67d (online at http://​edoc3.bibliothek.uni-​halle.de/​lepsius/​tafelwa5.html).
37 For a discussion see Morkot 1999; Lohwasser 2000; 2001a: 226–​56; Kahn 2005.
38 Lohwasser 1995.
39 Berlin ÄMP Inv.-​No. 1747; Priese 1993: fig. 44.
40 Wenig 1993: 211.
41 Berlin ÄMP Inv.-​No. 1723; Priese 1993: fig. 42.
42 Lohwasser 2001a: 334–​49.
43 Assmann 1990: 208–​9; Lohwasser 2001a: 344–​5.
44 Kuckertz in press.
45 Kuckertz in press.
46 Priese 1993.
47 Hofmann, Tomandl, and Zach 1985.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

FHN I-​III Eide, T., Hägg, T., Pierce, R.H., and Török, L. (eds.) 1994–​1998. Fontes Historiae Nubiorum:
Textual Sources for the History of the Middle Nile Region between the Eighth Century
BC and the Sixth Century AD, vols. I–​III. Bergen.
LD  Lepsius, C.R. (eds.) 1849–​ 59. Denkmaeler aus Aegypten und Aethiopien, nach den
Zeichnungen der von seiner Majestät dem König von Preussen Friedrich Wilhelm IV nach
diesen Ländern gesendeten und in den Jahren 1842–​1845 Ausgeführten wissenschaftlichen
Expedition auf Befehl seiner Majestät herausgegeben und erläutert von R. Lepsius. Berlin.

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Assmann, J. 1990. Maat. Gerechtigkeit und Unsterblichkeit im Alten Ägypten. Munich.
Bradley, R. 2003. “Painted Plaster Murals from Meroe Townsite.” Sudan & Nubia 7: 66–​70.
Chapman, S.E. and Dunham, D. 1952. Royal Cemeteries of Kush III: Decorated Chapels of the Meroitic Pyramids
at Meroë and Barkal. Cambridge, MA.
Dunham, D. 1950. El Kurru.The Royal Cemeteries of Kush I. Cambridge, MA.

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Dunham, D. 1955. Nuri.The Royal Cemeteries of Kush II. Boston.

Dunham, D. 1957. Royal Tombs at Meroë and Barkal. Royal Cemeteries of Kush IV. Cambridge, MA.
Emberling, G. and Williams, B. (eds.) In press. The Oxford Handbook of Ancient Nubia. Oxford.
Gamer-​Wallert, I. 1983. Der Löwentempel von Naq’a in der Butana (Sudan) III: Die Wandreliefs. [with Dittmar,
J.] Beihefte TAVO, Reihe B (Geisteswissenschaften) Nr. 48/​3. Wiesbaden.
Griffith, F.L. 1922. “Oxford Excavations in Nubia.VIII-​XVII, Napata, Sanam Temple, Treasury and Town.”
Liverpool Annals of Archaeology and Anthropology 9: 67–​124.
Grimal, N.-​C. 1981. Quatre stèles Napatéennes au musée du Caire JE 48863–​48866. Mémoires publiés par les
membres de l’Institut français d’Archéologie orientale du Caire, 106. Cairo.
Hofmann, I., Tomandl, H., and Zach, M. 1985. “Der Tempel F von Naqa.” Varia Aegyptiaca 1: 27–​35.
Kahn, D. 2005. “The Royal Succession in the 25th Dynasty.” Der Antike Sudan. Mitteilungen der
Sudanarchäologischen Gesellschaft zu Berlin 16: 143–​63.
Kendall, T. 1989. “Ethnoarchaeology in Meroitic studies.” In S. Donadoni and S. Wenig (eds.), Studia
Meroitica 1984. Proceedings of the Fifth International Conference for Meroitic Studies, Rome 1984,
Meroitica 10. Berlin, 625–​745.
Kröper, K., Schoske, S., and Wildung, D. 2011. Königsstadt Naga. Grabungen in der Wüste des Sudan [Naga
Royal City, Excavations in the Desert of the Sudan]. Munich.
Kuckertz, J. 2019. “Meroitic Temples and their Decoration.” In D. Raue (ed.), Handbook of Ancient Nubia.
Berlin and Boston, 813–​47.
Kuckertz, J. In press. “Amanishakheto –​a Meroitic Ruling Queen of the Late 1st Cent. BC/​Early 1st
Cent. AD.”
Lohwasser, A. 1995. “Die Darstellung der kuschitischen Krönung.” In D. Kurth (ed.), 3. Ägyptologische
Tempeltagung. Systeme und Programme der ägyptischen Tempeldekoration. Hamburg, 1.-​5. Juni 1994. ÄAT
33,1. Wiesbaden, 163–​85.
Lohwasser, A. 1998. “Die Handlungen der kuschitischen Königin im Götterkult.” CRIPEL 17, 3:
135–​46.
Lohwasser, A. 1999. “Die Darstellung der Tracht der Kuschitinnen in der 25. Dynastie.” In S. Wenig (ed.),
Studien zum antiken Sudan. Akten der 7. Internationalen Tagung für meroitistische Forschungen vom 14.-​19.
September in Gosen/​bei Berlin. Meroitica 15. Wiesbaden, 586–​603.
Lohwasser, A. 2000. “Die Auswahl des Königs in Kusch.” Beiträge zur Sudanforschung 7: 85–​102.
Lohwasser, A. 2001a. Die königlichen Frauen im antiken Reich von Kusch. 25. Dynastie bis zur Zeit des Nastasen.
Meroitica 19. Wiesbaden.
Lohwasser, A. 2001b. “Der Thronschatz der Königin Amanishakheto.” In C.-​B. Arnst, I. Hafemann, and A.
Lohwasser (eds.), Begegnungen. Antike Kulturen im Niltal. Festgabe für Erika Endesfelder, Karl-​Heinz Priese,
Walter Friedrich Reineke und Steffen Wenig. Leipzig, 285–​302.
Lohwasser, A. 2012. “Haut als Medium im antiken Nordostafrika. Temporäre und permanente
Modifikationen der Körperoberfläche.” In A. Berlejung, J. Dietrich, and J.F. Quack (eds.), Menschenbilder
und Körperkonzepte im Alten Israel, in Ägypten und im Alten Orient. Orientalische Religionen der Antike
9. Tübingen, 527–​59.
Lohwasser, A. and Phillips, J. In press. “Women and Gender in Ancient Kush.” In G. Emberling and
B. Williams (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Ancient Nubia. Oxford.
Macadam, M.F.L. 1949. The Temples of Kawa I: The Inscriptions. London.
Macadam, M.F.L. 1955. The Temples of Kawa II: History and Archaeology of the Site. London.
Morkot, R. 1999. “Kingship and Kinship in the Empire of Kush.” In S. Wenig (ed.), Studien zum antiken
Sudan. Akten der 7. Internationalen Tagung für meroitistische Forschungen vom 14.-​19. September in Gosen/​bei
Berlin. Meroitica 15. Wiesbaden, 179–​229.
Morkot, R. 2000. The Black Pharaohs: Egypt’s Nubian Rulers. London.
Pope, J. 2014. The Double Kingdom under Taharqo: Studies in the History of Kush and Egypt, c. 690–​664 BC.
Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 69. Leiden.
Priese, K.-​H. 1968. ”Nichtägyptische Namen und Wörter in den ägyptischen Inschriften der Könige von
Kusch I.“ Mitteilungen des Institutes für Orientforschungen 14: 165–​91.
Priese, K.-​H. 1993. The Gold of Meroe. New York.
Raue, D. (ed.) 2019. Handbook of Ancient Nubia. Berlin and Boston.
Robisek, C. 1989. Das Bildprogramm des Mut-​Tempels am Gebel Barkal. Veröffentlichungen der Institute für
Afrikanistik und Ägyptologie 52. Vienna.
Spencer, N., Stevens, A., and Binder, M. 2017. Nubia in the New Kingdom: Lived Experience, Pharaonic Control
and Indigenous Traditions. British Museum Publications on Egypt and Sudan 3. London.

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Török, L. 1990.“The Costume of the Ruler in Meroe: Remarks on its Origin and Significance.” Archéologie
du Nil Moyen 4: 151–​202.
Török, L. 1995. The Birth of an Ancient African Kingdom: Kush and Her Myth of the State in the First Millennium
BC. Cahier de recherches de l’Institut de papyrologie et d’égyptologie de Lille. Supplément 4. Lille.
Wenig, S. 1978 Africa in Antiquity: The Arts of Ancient Nubia II, The Catalogue. Brooklyn.
Wenig, S. 1993. “Die Darstellungen. Untersuchungen zu Ikonographie, Inhalt und Komposition der
Reliefs.” In F. Hintze et al. (eds.), Musawwarat es Sufra, Bd. I.1. Der Löwentempel,Textband. Berlin, 74–​227.
Wildung, D. 1996. Sudan. Antike Königreiche am Nil. Exhibition catalog. Munich and Paris.

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7
PTOLEMAIC ROYAL WOMEN
Anne Bielman Sánchez and Giuseppina Lenzo

Introduction
In recent decades, Ptolemaic queens have attracted the attention of researchers, with several
royal figures being the subject of detailed analysis.1 However, studies that compare Greek and
Egyptian documentation are not so many, despite the fact that the Ptolemies ruled a bi-​cultural
kingdom. In addition, few studies have explored the differences between the queens in terms of
their political status, titles, and participation in the management of the kingdom in partnership
with the king.The purpose of the present study is to fill this lacuna by examining the Ptolemaic
queens from Berenike I to Kleopatra II (300–​115 BCE).2 This period sees the implementation
of a series of institutional innovations that promote the public stature and official role of the
Ptolemaic queens–​–​by which we mean royal wives–​–​thus paving the way for the most famous
of them, Kleopatra VII.
We have identified three structural elements that we believe serve as the foundation for the
political status of the Ptolemaic queens: (1) the valorization of the royal matrimonial couple;
(2) the system of joint rule with two or three partners, which is a form of political partner-
ship between a king and a queen; and (3) the dynastic cult and the presence of the queens in
the Egyptian temples. Our observations concerning these three major elements are based on a
detailed study of the testimonies of literary authors from the Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine
periods, as well as epigraphic documents (such as bilingual stelai in Egyptian and Greek erected
on the orders of Egyptian priest synods), reliefs decorating Egyptian temples, coins, and even
opening protocols—​those formal preambles which precede any notarial act of the Ptolemaic
period written on papyri. However, due to space constraints, we have generally omitted
references to these primary sources and have referred to modern studies in which they are
extensively analyzed.

The valorization of the royal conjugal couple

According to the available documentation, Ptolemy I seems to have had little interest in cre-
ating a public role for his wife Berenike I. By contrast, Ptolemy II (reign 282–​246 BCE) and
his successors showed considerable concern to develop the royal conjugal couple. This phe-
nomenon stems from Ptolemy II’s decision to marry his sister Arsinoë II,3 who had taken

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Anne Bielman Sánchez and Giuseppina Lenzo

refuge in Egypt to escape her half-​brother and second husband, the king of Thrace/​Macedon
Ptolemy Keraunos. The union of Ptolemy II and his sister was not intended to give birth to
heirs (Ptolemy II already had three children—​including two sons—​by his first wife, Arsinoë I,
and his sister Arsinoë II was over 40 years old at the time of the marriage). This marriage was
part of a strategy aimed at strengthening descendants of the Ptolemy I–​Berenike I couple—​the
parents of Ptolemy II—​to the detriment of the rival descendants of the Ptolemy I–​Eurydike
couple. Ptolemy II justified the consanguineous union with Arsinoë II—​a union that shocked
some of his contemporaries—​by evoking Egyptian cultural models (Osiris and his sister-​wife
Isis)4 and Greek cultural models (Zeus and his sister-​wife Hera).5 The divine epithet Theoi
Adelphoi (“the sibling gods”) also underscores the fact that the conjugal bond was coupled with
a fraternal bond. In addition, Theokritos in his “Praise of Ptolemy (II)” refers to the love that
united the parents of the inbred couple (Idyll 17.35–​40). However, the death of Arsinoë II, a
few years after her marriage to Ptolemy II,6 led the king to modify his plans and concentrate
his efforts on the dynastic cult.
It was therefore his son and successor, Ptolemy III (reign 246–​222), who established a
lasting strategy to enhance the reigning conjugal couple. This strategy was based on the
“Lock of Berenike” staged by the Alexandrian poet Kallimachos.7 Through what we would
today call storytelling, Berenike II is presented as a model loving wife, whom the gods
transformed into a celestial constellation during her lifetime in recognition of her exem-
plary marital behavior. The documentary sources from the reign of Ptolemy III echo this
glorification of conjugal values. Berenike was the cousin of Ptolemy III, but their familial
relationship is presented in all official sources as a fraternal bond,8 in order to strengthen the
conjugal bond according to the model of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II. It should be noted that
the term “sister” is regularly used for “wife” in Pharaonic Egypt from the second half of the
18th Dynasty onwards, perhaps under the influence of the royal consanguineous marriages
at the beginning of this dynasty.9
Contrary to what is said about Ptolemy III and Berenike II, literary sources typically pre-
sent Ptolemy IV (reign 222–​204) and his sister-​wife Arsinoë III as a dysfunctional couple:10 the
king is said to maintain many mistresses, neglect his wife, or even murder her. However, several
ancient testimonies contradict these statements. Arsinoë III is invited by her brother-​husband to
accompany him during the campaign of the Fourth Syrian War, and the queen encourages the
troops during the battle of Raphia (217 BCE) which ends with the Ptolemaic victory (Polyb.
5.83; 3 Macc. 1.1). Many documentary sources show these royal spouses as political partners.11
For instance, the royal couple is prominent on the upper register of the Raphia Decree that
is erected in all Egyptian temples after the military victory.12 The Decree shows the couple
facing the enemy and the gods, the queen standing behind the king on horseback. It thus
promulgates honors for the king and queen, and gives orders to erect images of both sovereigns
in the temples. We know from several Greek inscriptions that the king and queen established
joint diplomatic relations with Greek cities in Boeotia and the Aegean islands; in return, these
cities honor the royal couple.13 Furthermore, Arsinoë is omnipresent alongside the king in the
Egyptian temples. Under Ptolemy IV, the royal couple—​beyond the possible private tensions
that cannot be ruled out, but about which we know nothing reliable—​played an important role
in shaping foreign policy and official propaganda.
This role for the royal couple continued under Ptolemy V (reign 204–​180), despite the for-
eign origin of his wife, Kleopatra I, the daughter of the Seleukid king Antiochos III, whom
he married around 194–​193.14 The spouses made joint donations to sanctuaries in Egypt and
Delos. In dedications from private individuals written in Greek, as well as in hieroglyphic tes-
timonies from Egyptian temples (Edfu, Philai), Kleopatra II is called the “sister of the king.”

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Ptolemaic royal women

This shows that this title is now being used to glorify the conjugal stability of the royal couple,
regardless of any actual blood relationship.
The official role of the royal conjugal couple was maintained by the Ptolemies during the
marriage of Ptolemy VI and his younger sister Kleopatra II in 175, which was celebrated when
both were still minors.The importance of the conjugal couple was strengthened with the estab-
lishment of joint rule between Ptolemy VI and his sister-​wife (163–​145):15 from this point on,
the royal partners were recognized with an official role: they benefited—​sometimes with their
children—​from gestures of loyalty by officers or senior officials—​and they also made trips to the
countryside and donations to the temples. With Ptolemy VI and Kleopatra II, the conjugal and
consanguineous Ptolemaic couple reached its peak.
Immediately after the death of Ptolemy VI in the summer of 145, Kleopatra II married his
younger brother Ptolemy VIII; for this reason, D. Ogden wrote that the polygyny of the first
Ptolemaic kings is followed by the polyandry of the queens.16 These new inbred partners were
staged in accordance with previous practices and the fact that Ptolemy VIII married his niece
Kleopatra III in 141–​140 did not lead to the repudiation of Kleopatra II, who retained her
privileges and her place at the court.
After the death of Ptolemy VIII in 116 and until the end of the Ptolemaic dynasty, the
conjugal couple gradually lost its importance in dynastic propaganda. This was due to several
factors: sometimes the ruling duo turned into a trio; sometimes the ruling duos were no longer
conjugal couples but mother–​son or father–​daughter tandems; sometimes circumstantial elem-
ents limited the value of the conjugal couple (for example, owing to bad relations between
spouses, or because the husband was of non-​Ptolemaic blood and could not be recognized as
a pharaoh).17

Royal partnership in political matters and joint rules

The first reference to the intervention of a Ptolemaic queen in the political field appears in
an Athenian document dated to the autumn of 268 called the Decree of Chremonides (IG II2
687). In this inscription, which concerns a military alliance established between Sparta, Athens,
and Ptolemy II against Macedonia, the Ptolemaic king is said to defend the common freedom
of the Greeks “following the policy (proairesis) of his ancestors and sister.” By this sentence, the
Athenians seem to note Ptolemy II’s desire to present himself and his sister as thinking and
acting in a united way in the diplomatic and military fields,18 even though, by the date of the
Decree, Arsinoë II was already dead.19
An important step is taken by Berenike II: she appears in nine demotic papyri as Per-aat Pr-​
ʿȝ.t—​that is, as “pharaoh” in the feminine form—​and she is mentioned as such in the opening
protocols, immediately after the king.20 It is the first use of this formulation for a queen in offi-
cial documents. How shall we explain this? Some scholars suppose that Berenike II temporarily
ruled the kingdom during the Third Syrian War, while her husband is campaigning (246–​245).
In this case, she would have been equal to the king for this brief time.21
Literary and documentary sources from the reign of Ptolemy IV reveal queen Arsinoë III’s
active participation in the political affairs of the kingdom: she urged the Ptolemaic troops on
the battlefield in Raphia (3 Macc. 1.4), thus assuming a role that was rightfully incumbent on
the king.22 Her participation earned her a prominent place in the Decree of Raphia alongside
the king: she makes a donation to the Mouseia festival at Thespiai (Boiotia), writing a letter
to the city in her own name, while the king announces in a second letter that he supports his
sister’s action; she is honored by the city of Kos with a statue and perhaps benefits from a coin
in Thespiai; she receives purple clothing from the Senate of Rome in 210–​209 at the same time

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Anne Bielman Sánchez and Giuseppina Lenzo

as the king (Liv. 27.4.10); finally, in 204, she is probably murdered just before or after the king
for political reasons (perhaps because someone wants to prevent her from playing a role in the
royal succession and assuming guardianship over the young Ptolemy V).23 Nevertheless, Arsinoë
III never appears in an opening protocol; this means that, officially, she did not share royal power
with her brother-​husband, even though the latter relied heavily on her to rule the kingdom.
During the reign of Ptolemy V, his wife Kleopatra I does not seem to have assumed a par-
ticular political role. However, she was associated with the king in an embassy dispatched by the
Alexandrian court to Rome in 190 (Liv. 37.3.9).24
The unexpected death of Ptolemy V in 180 produced an institutional revolution. The
protocol of a Greek papyrus dated October 180 is formulated as follows: “Under the joint rule
of queen Kleopatra and king Ptolemy, the son of the gods Epiphanes, year 1” (P. Ryl. Gr. 4.589,
lines 92–​4).25 Furthermore, the same document confirms that the queen and her son Ptolemy
VI—​who was about 6 years old in 180—​received royal power as their inheritance and now
rule the kingdom (lines 107–​111). In demotic papyri, the protocols confirm the establishment
of joint rule by using the term “pharaohs” in the plural. Thus, we note a triple innovation: (1)
the transition from a monarchical system to a system of joint rule with two sovereigns; (2) the
inclusion of a queen in the new royal tandem; and (3) the mention of queen Kleopatra I before
her son Ptolemy VI, the sign of her hierarchical pre-​eminence.
However, according to the information we have, these major changes did not provoke any
reaction from courtiers or from the inhabitants of the kingdom. This passivity can be explained
in different ways: on the one hand, the queen certainly had strong support at the court (not-
ably her faithful eunuchs who had come with her from the Seleukid court); on the other hand,
by keeping a queen of Seleukid origin on the throne, it was hoped that peaceful relations
would be maintained with the Seleukid king Seleukos IV, brother of Kleopatra I; finally, the
queen’s dowry, while she was alive, could guarantee the income from Koilesyria for Egypt.26
The protocol form remains unchanged during the three years of the joint rule, until the queen’s
death which took place in the autumn of 177 at the latest.
This joint rule led by a queen was not simply a facade: a papyrus testifies to a court decision
made by the rulers (P. Coll.Youtie I.12), hence by the queen alone, in light of the young age of
the king; we can detect Kleopatra’s involvement in the coinage, owing to her monogram “K”
on the reverse of the bronze coins.27 However, this joint rule does not seem to have enjoyed any
official recognition outside the Ptolemaic kingdom, and Ptolemy VI was legitimized by foreign
powers as the successor to Ptolemy V only when he came of age.
Kleopatra I left behind her three minor children: Ptolemy VI, his sister Kleopatra II, and his
brother Ptolemy VIII. To strengthen this fragile royal power base, two operations were carried
out: first, a marriage between Ptolemy VI and his younger sister was conducted in the spring
of 175, then joint rule was established between the three siblings in 170. Even if Kleopatra II
appears in the protocols of this ruling trio only in final position, behind the two kings, she
nevertheless played a political role by mediating between her brothers in the Sixth Syrian War
(Liv. 44.19.6; 45.11.3 and 6).28
After the reconciliation of the siblings in 168, the ruling trio was active again, but tensions
persisted and led to a split in 163: Ptolemy VIII became king of Kyrenaika while Ptolemy VI
and his sister-​wife began a joint rule over Egypt and Cyprus, a rule that lasted until the death of
Ptolemy VI in 145. The queen then appears in all Greek and demotic protocols, in second posi­
tion behind Ptolemy VI, and is often referred to as the “sister” or “sister and wife” (of the king).
In addition, she officially participates in the management of the kingdom: the two sovereigns
are invoked in the oaths of Egyptians and they receive petitions and reports in both their names
and co-​sign some royal orders and letters to officials.The honors for the queen and her husband

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in several gymnasiums in Kypros and Egypt confirm that she was considered the king’s partner
by Greco-​Macedonian inhabitants of Egypt.
The death of Ptolemy VI in the summer of 145 put an end to this duo and promoted
Ptolemy VIII’s ambitions. Indeed, the option of a joint rule between Kleopatra II and her minor
son is abandoned in favor of a joint rule between Kleopatra II and Ptolemy VIII. Through these
events, the queen appears to be the legitimizing element of Ptolemaic power. In the protocols
of the new joint rule, Kleopatra II regains her rank behind the king as well as her title of “sister”
or “sister and wife” (of the king), while her role as an effective co-​ruler of the kingdom seems
to have been maintained. While the marriage in 141/​140 of Ptolemy VIII and his niece—​the
daughter of Kleopatra II and Ptolemy VI—​led to a ruling trio, Kleopatra II kept her place in the
new configuration: she appears in the second rank, behind the king, and is generally called “the
sister” to distinguish herself from Kleopatra III, who is called “the wife.”
The agreement between the trio shattered in 132, when the Alexandrians drove out Ptolemy
VIII and Kleopatra III, and supported Kleopatra II. Kleopatra II’s two sons (one born of Ptolemy
VI, the other of Ptolemy VIII) were murdered by order of Ptolemy VIII to prevent the queen
from forming a joint rule with one of them. Kleopatra II was then forced to assume sole royal
power: in 131 and 130, documents from cities in the south of the country (notably Thebes)
mention a new sequence of regnal years, and a protocol of a Greek papyrus from Hermonthis is
dated “under the reign of Kleopatra, goddess Philometor Soteira” (P. Baden Gr. II.2, October 29,
130). After the failure of an alliance attempt with her son-​in-​law, the Seleukid king Demetrios
II, Kleopatra II facing the military reconquest of the country by Ptolemy VIII, left Egypt in 127
and took refuge at the Seleukid court. However, her royal career was not over: in 124, thanks
to negotiations between Ptolemies and Seleukids, she returned to a ruling trio with Ptolemy
VIII and Kleopatra III, and regained the same rank and title as before the civil war. Finally, we
cannot rule out the possibility that, after the death of Ptolemy VIII in 116, Kleopatra II briefly
participated in a ruling trio with Kleopatra III and her son Ptolemy IX. She probably died
in 115.
As a partner in six joint rules, Kleopatra II sets the record for the longest reign of a queen on
the Ptolemaic throne (55 years). However, she failed to take over a joint rule with one of her
sons, while her mother Kleopatra I had succeeded in doing that with her underage son Ptolemy
VI, and her daughter Kleopatra III would do so with each of her two adult sons, Ptolemy IX
and Ptolemy X. The example of these three queens shows how the system of joint rule served
as the cornerstone of the power of the Ptolemaic queens.

The dynastic cult and the representation of the rulers in Egyptian temples29
Throughout the entire Ptolemaic period, the dynastic cult remained an important means of
valorizing the ruling couple. An eponymous priest of the cult of Alexander the Great was
established in Alexandria during the reign of Ptolemy I.30 However, it was under the reign of
Ptolemy II that the dynastic cult underwent significant development. In fact, the 270s were a
time when various activities were established. First, the parents of Ptolemy II, Ptolemy I and
Berenike I, were divinized and honored during the Ptolemaia (Kallixeinos of Rhodes, apud Ath.
5.27, 197D and 35.203A).31 Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II married in the same years and, probably
shortly after this event, they were both added to the priesthood of Alexander with the divine
epithet Theoi Adelphoi, “the sibling gods.” In fact, the first mention of a priest of Alexander and
the Theoi Adelphoi is found in a Greek papyrus dated May 28, 271 (P. Hibeh I 199).32 The epi-
thet highlights the family blood bonds and was used as part of Ptolemaic propaganda. From
that time on, each couple on the throne of Egypt was added to the list of gods honored by the

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priest of Alexandria with a specific epithet.These epithets are found not only on the papyri and
inscriptions in Greek and demotic, but also in hieroglyphs in stelai or temple’s reliefs.33 Ptolemy
I and Berenike II, the Theoi Soteres “savior gods” were included in the list of the eponymous
priests only under Ptolemy IV, when the dynastic cult was revised. However, under Ptolemy II,
the Theoi Soteres are represented on the reverse of coins—​or maybe on the obverse, the distinc-
tion between obverse and reverse being deliberately ambiguous—​while the Theoi Adelphoi are
on the other side, thereby linking the living rulers with the deified ancestors.34
Two hieroglyphic stelai of the reign of Ptolemy II, namely the Mendes Stele and the
Sais Stele, provide information about the establishment of a posthumous cult of Arsinoë II
Philadelphos.35 On the basis of the Mendes Stele, it has been assumed that Arsinoë II probably
died in 270 (year 15),36 while her cult was probably diffused in all of Egypt in 265 (year 20), as
the Sais Stele suggests.37 A statue of the queen as a goddess was thus elevated in every temple
in Egypt. She also appears as a goddess in the lunettes of the Mendes and Pithom Stelai, in
small stelai, as well as on the walls of the temple of Philai, where Ptolemy II honors his sister
by giving her offerings.
Furthermore, in Alexandria the cult of the deceased queen is attested in the Arsinoeia-​festival,
and especially the establishment of a specific priestess devoted to her cult, the kanephoros. This
priestess is mentioned after the priest of Alexander and the Theoi Adelphoi; the first mention is
in a Greek papyrus of year 18 of Ptolemy II, that is 268/​267 (P. Sorbonne Institut de Papyrologie
2440).38 The cult of Arsinoë II spread not only throughout Egypt, as can be seen in both
Egyptian and Greek documents, but also throughout the Hellenistic world; there were for
example altars for Arsinoë in Cyprus (Paphos, Limassol), Lesbos, Delos, Paros, Amorgos, Thera,
Miletos, and Eretria. The image of Arsinoë II was thus mainly used after her death, in the con-
text of the dynastic cult staged by her brother Ptolemy II.This opens the door for similar dynas­
tic cults for all other Ptolemaic rulers. Henceforth, royal leadership in Egypt was dominated by
two figures, a masculine pharaoh and a feminine counterpart.
As the wife of Ptolemy III, Berenike II already played a considerable political role during
her lifetime. She was integrated into the dynastic cult with her husband: the attribution of
the epithet Theoi Euergetai, “the beneficent gods,” to Ptolemy III and Berenike II is attested
for the first time in a Greek papyrus from August/​September 243 (PSI IV 389)39. It mentions
the priest of Alexander, of the Theoi Adelphoi, of the Theoi Euergetai, and the kanephoros of
Arsinoë II.40 Both decrees from that reign, that is the Alexandrian Decree (December 3,
243)41 and the Kanopos Decree (March 7, 238)42 confirm the attribution of this epithet to
the ruling couple and give the context of such a decision. In fact, because of the benefits
of the couple, especially those accrued from the Egyptian temples and cults, the epithet
Euergetes and honors were established for them, as well as for their young child Berenike
who died during the synod of priests in 238.43 In this context, Berenike II also wears a
Horus-​name—​one of the five names of the pharaoh—​in the feminine form in the Kanopos
Decree, which is unusual for a queen.44
The dynastic cult is also developed on the walls of the temples. On the Euergetes Gate
in Karnak, two scenes facing each other illustrate the insertion of the ruling couple and
their ancestors in the Egyptian temples. The first scene shows Ptolemy III making offerings
to his divinized parents Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II Philadelphos, while the second shows the
god Khonsu inscribing regnal years for the rulers Ptolemy III and Berenike II Euergetes.45
Furthermore, Berenike II also wears a Horus-​name in the feminine form, much as in the
Kanopos Decree. Finally, a priestess for the cult of Berenike II, the athlophoros, is established after
her death; the priestess is attested for the first time in various demotic papyri of the year 211/​
210 BCE, that is year 12 of Ptolemy IV.46

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The presence of Arsinoë III, wife of Ptolemy IV, in the dynastic cult is very similar to that
of Berenike II. First, Arsinoë III shares the divine epithet Theoi Philopatores (“the gods who
love their father”) with her brother-​husband. The emphasis on blood is reminiscent of the
Theoi Adelphoi. She also receives honors in the Raphia Decree (June 22, 217) together with
the pharaoh47 and is attested in the scene in the Edfu temple in which she and the pharaoh
receive regnal years.48 As in the case of Arsinoë II and Berenike II, a priestess is established for
her in Alexandria after her death; the priestess is first attested in two demotic papyri in 199/​198
(P. dem Schreibertrad. 26 and P. dem Receuil 8).49
During the reign of her husband Ptolemy V, Kleopatra I receives with him the epithet Theoi
Epiphanes “the appearing/​manifest gods” and sometimes Eucharistos “benevolent.” She also bears
a Horus-​name in the feminine form in two inscriptions in Edfu,50 and, like her predecessors,
she was honored in the Egyptian temples.51 As co-​ruler with her son Ptolemy VI, Kleopatra
kept the epithet “Epiphanes.”When Kleopatra I disappears from the joint rule protocols, proba­
bly because she has died, a new priest appears from 177 until 164 in Ptolemais, the “priest
of the pharaoh Ptolemy and Kleopatra his mother” (see for example the demotic P. BM EA
10230).52 In 164 two separate priesthoods are established: a “priest of the pharaoh Ptolemy” and
a “priestess of Kleopatra the mother, Epiphanes Eucharistos” (first attestation is P. dem. BM EA
10515) until at least 123. After that we have no detailed mention of the list of priests in Thebaid.
In contrast, for an unknown reason, there was no priesthood for Kleopatra I in Alexandria.
Therefore, Kleopatra I regularly appears—​during the reign of Ptolemy VI alone, or during
the co-​rule between Ptolemy VI and his sister Kleopatra II—​in the temple reliefs as an ancestral
figure, with her husband Ptolemy V.
Considerable changes can be observed in the reigns of Kleopatra II, the daughter of Kleopatra
I, who co-​ruled with her two brothers Ptolemy VI and Ptolemy VIII. First, her divine epithet
is tailored to fit varying circumstances during her various reigns: she and Ptolemy VI are Theoi
Philometores “the gods who love their mother” (175–​145), while she and Ptolemy VIII, and
also sometimes Kleopatra III after her, are Theoi Euergetai, “the beneficent gods” (145–​132 and
124–​116), as was also the case for Ptolemy III and Berenike II. The choice for the same epithet
as their illustrious predecessor was certainly deliberate. During the civil war of 132–​127, she is
Thea Philometor Soteira (“the goddess who loves her mother, the savior”) as a reminder of both
her brother Ptolemy VI Philometor and her illustrious ancestor Ptolemy I Soter.53 The second
substantial change was the establishment of a priestess of the queen Kleopatra II in September
171 (first attested in P. dem. Louvre E 10440), hence during Kleopatra II’s lifetime, probably to
increase the strength of the rulers Ptolemy VI and Kleopatra II prior to the commencement of
the Sixth Syrian War (170–​168).54 Kleopatra II, like the other queens before her, is attested in
many scenes depicting the transmission of kingship on the walls of the temple.55
The dynastic cult and the divinization of Arsinoë II under the direction of Ptolemy II were
the first steps in an elaborate process of legitimating the Ptolemaic dynasty and giving it divine
features. During the time of Ptolemy III, the queen was fully integrated into a program that
positioned the ruling couple as central to the dynastic cult. Ptolemy IV strengthened this pro-
cess while reforming the dynastic cult. Another step was reached during the reign of Ptolemy VI
when a priestess of the queen was appointed during the latter’s lifetime. The eponymous priest
and the festivals in Alexandria played a key role in the dynastic cult. Furthermore, the divine
epithets were translated into Egyptian, and the divinized ancestors are represented in the scenes
on stelai and walls of temples, together with the ruling couple, who receive regnal years from
the gods. Finally, the ancestors and the ruling couple were introduced in the temples as Synnaoi
Theoi (“gods sharing the same temple”). This practice served to legitimate the king, with the
queen serving as an indispensable partner of the king in this framework.

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Ptolemaic queens regularly appear on scenes carved on the walls of the temples, not only
as ancestors or members of the dynastic cult, but also as figures making offerings to the gods
behind the pharaoh. This is striking, given that presenting offerings was an ancient role of the
pharaoh, one which women rarely carried out, but in scenes from the Ptolemaic period, by
contrast, the queen is more often present.
Berenike I is represented in the temples only as an ancestor alongside Ptolemy I. The first
queen to be shown on the walls of the temples is Arsinoë II, who is represented as synnaos thea
in the Isis Temple in Philae during the reign of Ptolemy II. Berenike II is then present in the
inscriptions and on the scenes during the reign of Ptolemy III. However, as Joliton has shown,
Arsinoë III is the first Ptolemaic queen who was frequently represented on the temple walls.
She even appears on her own before the god in two reliefs in Philae; a distinction that is prob-
ably indicative of her political role during her lifetime.56 Other queens, such as Kleopatra II 57
and especially Kleopatra III and Kleopatra VII, retained this representation of queens in temples.
Kleopatra I appears less often on temples than her predecessor Arsinoë III, but this is probably
due to the fact that temples were less decorated during her lifetime, when Ptolemy V ruled,
and also during her joint rule with Ptolemy VI. Kleopatra I is mentioned in certain inscriptions,
but she is represented only as an ancestor alongside Ptolemy V or other members of the royal
family.58
As various scholars have shown, the presence of the Ptolemaic queen in temple scenes must
be understood as an extension of her political power and official role as one partner of a ruling
couple; her presence in such scenes was used to reinforce the dynasty.59

Conclusion
Three major elements form the basis of female power in Ptolemaic Egypt: (1) the valorization
of the royal matrimonial couple (from at least the time of Berenike II); (2) the system of joint
rule with two or three partners (from the time of Kleopatra I); and (3) the dynastic cult (from
the time of Arsinoë II). Each reign introduced innovations that were usually accepted and
developed by the next ruler, including the institutional revolution of joint rule. However, some
innovations were tolerated only because circumstances necessitated it, despite the fact that they
were neither valued nor developed: this can be observed in the case of the reign of a single
queen. In fact, the strength of the Ptolemaic queens rested on the presence of a mixed–​gender
couple. It could be a husband–​wife tandem (inbred or not), as in the case of Berenike II or
Kleopatra II. It could also be a mother-​son tandem, as in the case of Kleopatra I, who established
the first joint rule with the young Ptolemy VI; or Kleopatra III, who innovated by leading a
joint rule with each of her adult sons Ptolemy IX and Ptolemy X; or, finally, Kleopatra VII, who,
through her joint rule with her son Caesarion, represents the climax of Ptolemaic female power.

Notes
1 For the queens discussed in this study, see in particular the following treatments: (Arsinoë II) Collombert
2008; Müller 2009; Nilsson 2012; Carney 2013. (Berenike II) Carrez-​Maratray 2014; Clayman 2014.
(Arsinoë III) Bielman Sanchez and Joliton 2019. (Kleopatra I and Kleopatra II) Bielman Sánchez and
Lenzo 2015a; Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b.
2 All the dates should be understood as BCE.
3 The exact date of the marriage is debated (around 275?), see Hazzard 2000: 89–​91; Carney 2013: 70–​82;
Caneva 2016: 129, n. 1.
4 See Carney 2013: 71–​2.
5 The Alexandrian poet Theokritos explicitly compares the divine couple and the royal one: Idyll 17.131.

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6 For the date of Arsinoë’s death, see pp. 87-9, n. 35.

7 See Chapter 8.
8 See Carrez-​Maratray 2014: 134.
9 Frandsen 2009: 36–​9.
10 For an analysis of all literary sources relating to the couple Ptolemy IV–​Arsinoë III, see Bielman
Sánchez and Joliton 2019.
11 For an analysis of documentary sources relating to this couple, see Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019.
12 About the Decree, see in particular Clarysse 2000: 42–​3.
13 Pernin 2014: n° 27; Roesch 2007–​2009, IV: no 152 and 153; Petrakos 1997: n° 427 and 175; IG
IX.12.202; IG XII.5.481; SEG 43: 561; SEG 33: 674; I. Ephesos II.199; Frisch 1975: n° 44. For all these
documents, see Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019: 74–​6.
14 On the ancient sources about this couple, see Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a.
15 On the ancient sources about this couple, see Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b: 51–​76.
16 Ogden 1999: 86.We can see a new parallelism between kings and queens because: (1) both could con-
clude several unions during their lifetime and (2) the second or third successive husband of a queen
gained his legitimacy by this marriage, whereas before, only the woman could gain her legitimacy by
her union with a king.
17 A study on Ptolemaic royal couples from 101–​54 BCE is underway by Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo.
18 See Carney 2013: 92–​5.
19 See below, n. 35.
20 The papyri come for the most part from Upper Egypt.The list is given by Bielman Sánchez and Joliton
2019: 72.
21 According to Herklotz 2000: 55–​6, we could see a proof of that in the representation of the queen on
the coinage during her lifetime, carrying the royal title. For some examples see ANS 1970.2000.1.498;
Numismatica Genevensis SA–​Auction 10, Lot 23; SNGUK-​0300-​3416.
22 Bielman Sánchez 2012: 53–​5; Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019: 70–​4.
23 On the ancient sources about this couple, see Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019: 82–​5.
24 On this queen, see Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a.
25 On the document, see Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 154–​5.
26 See Bielman Sánchez 2017b: 407–​8; Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 170.
27 For this coinage, see Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b: 425–​30.
28 On the complete political activities of this queen within several joint rules between 170 and 115, see
Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b.
29 For the dynastic cult, see Chapter 9, Quaegebeur 1989; Pfeiffer 2008. For the queens in the temples,
see Quaegebeur 1978; Hölbl 2001; Minas 2005; and the complete study of Joliton 2015.
30 In 290/​289 according to Minas 2000: 89.
31 Caneva 2016: 87–​91.
32 Minas 2000: 91; Caneva 2016: 163. Both authors indicate P. Hibeh II 199, but it is P. Hibeh I 199
according to the papyri database Trismegistos.org (TM 2826).
33 See the list in Minas 2000, which gathers the main sources with the divine epithets.
34 For example ANS 1935.117.1084; ANS 1957.191.41; ANS 1944.100.75919.
35 Thiers 2007: 179–​80, 190–​1; Collombert 2008.
36 There is much debate on the date of the death of Arsinoë II, whether it is 270 or 268. See for
example Collombert 2008: 83, n. 1; Bennett 2013: s.v. “Arsinoe II” n. 17; Carney 2013: 104–​5;
Caneva 2016: 135–​41. For the cult of Arsinoë II, see most recently Carney 2013: 95–​100; Caneva
2016: 141–​52.
37 See Collombert 2008.
38 Minas 2000: 94.
39 Minas 2000: 102.
40 Clayman 2014: 165–​8.
41 el-​Masry, Altenmüller, and Thissen 2012.
42 Pfeiffer 2004.
43 el-​Masry, Altenmüller, and Thissen 2012: 117–​46; 179–​83.
44 Eldamaty 2011: 24–​9.
45 Clère 1961: pls. 43, 61.
46 See the list in Minas 2000: 116–​7.
47 Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019: 73.

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48 Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019: 79.

49 Minas 2000: 125.
50 Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 151–​3; Eldamaty 2011: 29–​33.
51 See the Alexandrian Decree (Philensis II, 186): Nespoulous-​Phalippou 2015: 314; von Recklinghausen
2018: 84–​90; and the Memphis Decree (Philensis I, 185): Nespoulous-​Phalippou 2015: 324–​31; von
Recklinghausen 2018: 135–​45.
52 See the list of papyri in Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 161–​3.
53 Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b: 77–​114 (Philometor), 194–​5 (Evergetes), 296–​7 (Philometor
Soteira), and 480–​3 for a summary for both Kleopatra I and Kleopatra II.
54 Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b: 110–​3.
55 Many examples are cited in Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b: 476–​80; see also Preys 2015.
56 Bielman Sánchez and Joliton 2019: 76–​82.
57 The presence of Kleopatra II in the temples is listed and commented in Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo
2015b: 115–​28, 203–​11, 224–​36, 260–​70, 360–​80, 466–​8, 476–​80.
58 Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 149–​53; Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b: 462–​3, 476–​80; Preys
and Degrémont 2013.
59 See for example Hölbl 2001; Minas 2005.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

ANS American Numismatic Society

I. Ephesos Börker, C. and Merkelbach, R. (eds.) 1979. Die Inschriften von Ephesos. Bonn.
P. The abbreviations for the papyri are those used by Trismegistos (www.trismegistos.org).
SNGUK Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum–​UK

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38: 83–​101.
Eldamaty, M.M. 2011.“Die ptolemäische Königin als weiblicher Horus.” In A. Jördens and J.F. Quack (eds.),
Ägypten zwischen innerem Zwist und äußerem Druck: die Zeit Ptolemaios’VI. bis VIII. Wiesbaden, 24–​57.
el-​Masry Y., Altenmüller, H., and Thissen, H.-​J. 2012. Das Synodaldekret von Alexandria aus dem Jahre 243
v. Chr. Hamburg.
Frandsen, P.J. 2009. Incestuous and Close-​Kin Marriage in Ancient Egypt and Persia. Copenhagen.
Frisch, P. 1975. Die Inschriften von Ilion. Bonn.
Hazzard, R.A. 2000. Imagination of a Monarchy: Studies in Ptolemaic Propaganda. Toronto.
Herklotz, F. 2000. “Berenike II. Königin und Göttin.” In A. Lohwasser (ed.), Geschlechterforschung in der
Ägyptologie und Sudanarchälogie. Beiträge eines Kolloquiums für Sudanarchäologie und Ägyptologie der
Humboldt-​Universität zu Berlin (8.5. und 19.6.1999). IBAES II. Berlin, 43–​61. www2.hu-​berlin.de/​
nilus/​net-​publications/​ibaes2/​index.html (accessed June 8, 2020).
Hölbl, G. 2001. “Ptolemäische Königin und weiblicher Pharao.” In N. Bonacasa and A. Donadoni Roveri
(eds.), Faraoni come dei,Tolemei come faraoni. Turin/​Palermo, 88–​97.
Huss, W. 2001. Aegypten in hellenistischer Zeit. Munich.
Joliton, V. 2015. Étude iconographique des représentations de la reine dans les temples de l’Egypte
ptolémaïque. PhD Dissertation, Université de Lausanne.
Minas, M. 2000. Die hieroglyphischen Ahnenreihen der ptolemäischen Könige. Ein Vergleich mit den Titeln der
eponymen Priester in den demotischen und griechischen Papyri. Mainz.
Minas, M. 2005. “Macht und Ohnmacht. Die Repräsentation ptolemäischer Königinnen in ägyptischen
Tempeln.” Archiv für Papyrusforschung 51: 127–​54.
Müller, S. 2009. Das hellenistische Königspaar in der medialen Repräsentation. Ptolemaios II. und Arsinoë II. Berlin.
Nespoulous-​Phalippou, A. 2015. Ptolémée Épiphane, Aristonikos et les prêtres d’Égypte: le Décret de Memphis
(182 A.C.). Édition commentée des stèles Caire RT 2/​3/​25/​7 et JE 44901. Cahiers Égypte Nilotique et
Méditerranéenne 12 (I-​II). Montpellier.
Nilsson, M. 2012. The Crown of Arsinoe II: The Creation of an Imagery of Authority. Oxford.
Ogden, D. 1999. Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death: The Hellenistic Dynasties. London and Swansea.
Pernin, L. 2014. Les baux ruraux en Grèce ancienne. Lyon.
Petrakos, B. 1997. Hoi epigraphes tou Oropou. Athens.
Pfeiffer, S. 2004. Das Dekret von Kanopos (238 v. Chr.): Kommentar und historische Auswertung eines dreisprachigen
Synodaldekretes der ägyptischen Priester zu Ehren Ptolemaios’ III. und seiner Familie. Munich.
Pfeiffer, S. 2008. Herrscher-​und Dynastiekulte im Ptolemäerreich: Systematik und Einordnung der Kultformen.
Munich.
Preys, R. 2015. “Roi vivant et roi ancêtre: iconographie et idéologie royale sous les Ptolémées.” In
C. Zivie-​Coche (ed.), Offrandes, rites et rituels dans les temples d’époques ptolémaïque et romaine. Montpellier,
149–​84.
Preys, R. and Dégremont, A. 2013. “Cléopâtre I et la couronne d’Arsinoé. À propos des scènes de culte
royal sur la porte ptolémaïque du 2e pylône de Karnak.” In C. Thiers (ed.), Documents de théologies
thébaines tardives. Montpellier, 95–​109.
Quaegebeur, J. 1978. “Reines ptolémaïques et traditions égyptiennes.” In H. Maehler and M.V. Strocka
(eds.), Das ptolemäische Ägypten. Mainz, 245–​62.
Quaegebeur, J. 1989. “The Egyptian Clergy and the Cult of the Ptolemaic Dynasty.” Ancient Society
20: 93–​116.
Roesch, P. 2007–​2009. Les inscriptions de Thespies. www.hisoma.mom.fr/​sites/​hisoma.mom.fr/​files/​img/​
production-​scientifique/​IT%20IV%20%282009%29.pdf (accessed June 8, 2020).
Thiers, C. 2007. Ptolémée Philadelphe et les prêtres d’Atoum de Tjékou: nouvelle édition commentée de la ‘stèle de
Pithom’ (CGC 22183). Montpellier.
von Recklinghausen, D. 2018. Die Philensis-​Dekrete: Untersuchungen über zwei Synodaldekrete aus der Zeit
Ptolemaios’V. und ihre geschichtliche und religiöse Bedeutung, 2 vols. Wiesbaden.

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8
BERENIKE II
Sabine Müller

Introduction
In Berenike II’s lifetime, the mid-​third century BCE,1 royal women were regularly part of
the public monarchical representation at the Macedonian courts and seemed to be more
“institutionalized” than during the last stage of the Argeads or in early Hellenistic times.2
However, the word basilissa attested for Berenike as a Ptolemaic royal woman marked her status
as a member of the dynasty but did not imply any office or specific powers.3 It was not restricted
to her as the king’s wife but also applied to her daughters (IG IX I² 1, 56; OGI 56, l. 47).
While the spaces of action of Hellenistic royal women varied across dynasties and individ-
uals and no general pattern can be applied regarding their roles, Ptolemaic royal women in
particular become visible to us as representatives of their house.4 Images of Berenike II appear
in historiography, poetry, cult, visual arts, on artifacts (such as gems or faience jugs), and coins.
Nevertheless, the sources on her life, mostly dating to her times as a Ptolemaic basilissa, are
scarce. The woman emerging from the evidence is an artificial figure shaped in accordance
with Ptolemaic ideology. Thus, the extent to which Berenike was involved in politics remains
unclear: while Ptolemaic monarchical representation made her appear as an active political
person at her husband’s side, it is uncertain whether this image reflects the facts.

Berenike’s early years

Berenike’s descent illustrates the contemporary “continuing cross-​contamination of Hellenistic
dynasties.”5 She was related to the Ptolemaic, Seleukid, and Antigonid houses. Her father was
Magas, a stepson of Ptolemy I. The latter had married Magas’ mother Berenike I (Paus. 1.6.6,
7.3), who bore him his successor Ptolemy II and the latter’s later sister-​wife Arsinoë II. Berenike
II’s mother, Magas’ wife Apame (Paus. 1.7.3), was the daughter of the Seleukid king Antiochos
II and Stratonike, the daughter of Demetrios Poliorketes and his Ptolemaic wife Ptolemais
(Porphyrios, BNJ 260 F 32.5). Hence, Berenike II and her later husband Ptolemy III, the son
of Ptolemy II and his first wife Arsinoë I, were cousins sharing the same paternal grandmother.
However, the third Ptolemaic couple was publicly represented as full siblings and children of
the preceding couple of (real) siblings, Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II (Kallim. F 110.43–​78 Pf.; Hyg.
astron. 2.24; OGI 56, ll. 7–​8).6 This fictitious parentage making them “protocolar” siblings was in

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accordance with the ideological ideal established by Ptolemy II: a royal nuclear family of parents
and children all descending from the founding couple Ptolemy I and Berenike I, imagined as a
series of loving royal couples conveying double benefits to their friends, allies, and population.7
Berenike bore a typical Macedonian female name that reflected one of the distinctive phon-
etic peculiarities of the Macedonian language, in the current debate mostly seen as a north-
western Greek dialect with ties to Doric: the Macedonians said β (beta) instead of φ (phi) (Plut.
Mor. 292 E). Hence, the Greek name Pherenike (“bearer of victory”) was transformed into the
Macedonian name Berenike.
Berenike’s upbringing lies in darkness. Her native land, the Kyrenaika, was a granary situated
on the North African coast. The city of Kyrene, founded in the seventh century by Greek
settlers from Thera, was the Kyrenaika’s commercial center, connected with Egypt and Nubia
through the caravan trading network of the Libyan desert. Taking over his satrapy, Egypt, in
323, Ptolemy followed the example of Alexander, who had established Macedonian control
over the Kyrenaika in 332/​331.8 In 300, Magas was appointed by Ptolemy as Kyrene’s governor
(Paus. 1.6.8, 7.1), a clear mark of confidence: the fertile, prosperous Kyrenaika was a key geo-
strategic possession.9 Magas seemed to have stayed loyal as long as Ptolemy I was in charge. He
revolted only after the death of Ptolemy I, allied with the Seleukids, against Ptolemy II (Paus.
1.7.1–​3).10 While Magas’ march on Alexandria failed, the Kyrenaika was half-​autonomous in
the aftermath.11 At some point Magas even adopted the title basileus, attested by the legend of
his coins.12 Kyrene experienced a cultural blossoming. Berenike would have been accustomed
to a refined court life.
Berenike first entered the historical scene when she became involved in paternal marriage
politics. At some—​debated—​point (in the 250s or 260s)13—​toward his reign’s end, according
to Trogus-​Justin (26.3.2)—​Magas reconciled with Ptolemy II, a reconciliation sealed by the
betrothal of one of Ptolemy’s sons and Magas’ only child Berenike. After Magas’ death (dated to
259/​8 or 250–​48), his realm was to return to Ptolemaic rule. Since Magas left no son, he perhaps
tried to spare the Kyrenaika any struggles against Ptolemaic expansionist interest. Most scholars
believe that the future Ptolemy III was Berenike’s fiancé. Lorber hints at the possibility that
the reconciliation occurred before 259 and involved Ptolemy “the son,” Ptolemy II’s enigmatic
co-​ruler (268/​7–​259), who had apparently been removed from the line of succession after he
rebelled against his father (Trog. Prol. 26; Polyain. Strat. 5.25; App. Syr. 65).14
After Magas’ death, a court faction assembled around his widow Apame and intervened
against the Ptolemaic claims by arranging a marital bond with the rival Antigonids. Antigonos II
Gonatas sent his half-​brother Demetrios, nicknamed Kalos (“the Handsome”), a son of Apame’s
grandfather Demetrios Poliorketes, as an alternative match for Berenike. Demetrios ruled the
Kyrenaika for a short time (Just. 26.3.3–​4).15 McAuley emphasizes that the arrangement shows
that Apame never ceased to cultivate ties to the maternal side of her natal family.16 Her role in
the matter also illustrates Carney’s argument that regarding marriage policy, royal women were
not always or usually “genetic tokens” but “dynastic go-​betweens with enduring ties to the oikos
of their birth.”17
The Antigonid alternative was not unanimously welcomed in the Kyrenaika. Apparently
as a result of the longstanding factional strife between an “aristocratic” or oligarchic faction
and a “democratic” faction (Diod. 18.19.2–​7), Demetrios was killed. The “democratic” faction
temporarily got the upper hand and invited the Greek legislative reformers Ekdelos and
Demophanes to preserve the Kyrenaika’s freedom (eleutheria: Polyb. 10.22.3; Plut. Philop. 1.4).18
It is uncertain whether Berenike played any role during this short interlude of autonomy.
Thereafter, the Kyrenaika was restored to the Ptolemies, sealed by the marriage of Ptolemy III

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and Berenike II. In the absence of explicit evidence, it is assumed that the wedding occurred in
246, shortly after his succession.19
Unfortunately, our main source on the aforementioned events (Just. 26.3.3–​8) tells a sen-
sationalist tale that reveals more about Trogus-​Justin’s moral view than about the struggle for
the Kyrenaika’s future. The narrative focuses on stock images of a dissolute court life and ends
up in a bedchamber scene: allegedly, Demetrios behaved most arrogantly, Apame fell for him,
and the upset soldiers killed him while he lay in bed with her.20 Styled as Apame’s counter-​
image, Berenike showed courage and piety toward her parents (the Roman virtue of pietas erga
parentes): by instigating Demetrios’ murder, she paid respect to Magas’ marriage plans. By trying
to save Apame’s life, she honored her mother. However, Apame is never heard of again and may
have been eliminated together with Demetrios and his supporters. Against the background of
the Kyrenaian factional strife, the degree of Berenike’s personal involvement in Demetrios’
murder is uncertain.

Berenike as a Ptolemaic basilissa

Most evidence on Berenike dates to the period of her second marriage to Ptolemy III. He
inscribed her name into the imperial landscape by (re)naming cities after her. One of the—​
if much debated—​examples may be Kyrenaian Euesperides, renamed Berenike.21 Frequently,
Berenike’s visibility is connected with the Ptolemaic ruler cult that served to bind the empire
together and align the population with the Ptolemies.22 In 244/​243, Berenike and Ptolemy
were deified during their lifetime as Theoi Euergetai (“Benefactor Gods”) (OGI 56, l. 8)—​a pro-
grammatic cult epithet that emphasized the blessings the couple claimed to provide, one that
was understandable to Greeks, Macedonians, and Egyptians.23 The blueprint of their apothe-
osis was the Greek and Egyptian cult of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II as Theoi Adelphoi (“Sibling
Gods”).The reference to the eponymous priest in the dating formula of documents brought the
Theoi Euergetai and their deified “parents” constantly to the mind of the population.24 Another
way to be virtually (omni)present is illustrated by relicts of faience jugs, affordable ceramics for
cultic use, showing portrays of Ptolemaic royal women such as Berenike II standing at an altar
and pouring a libation.25 The veneration of the Theoi Euergetai was spread by the soldiers of the
Ptolemaic garrisons (Austin no. 265) and exported to the allies. For example, in Athens, a cult
for the royal couple with its own priest, the festival of the Ptolemaia, a new phyle (subdivision of
citizens) called Ptolemaïs (Paus. 1.5.5), and a demos (local community) called Berenikidai (Steph.
Byz. s.v. Βερενικίδαι) were installed.26
For Berenike’s cult image, elements of the image of her “mother” Arsinoë II as part of
the Theoi Adelphoi and separately as Thea Philadelphos (“Brother-​Loving Goddess”) and Kypris
(Aphrodite) Zephyritis were adopted and advanced.27 Responding to the double-​faced char-
acter of Ptolemaic rule over Greeks, Macedonians, and Egyptians, in the Egyptian temples such
as Philai, Edfu, or Karnak, Berenike was associated by her titles and iconography with Re’s
daughter Hathor (who could be assimilated with Isis).28 On reliefs, Berenike wears Hathor’s
headdress with the plumes, horns, and sun disk.29 It is not proof that Berenike took an active
role in creating and promoting her own cultic image.
On the reverse of Ptolemaic coins minted in Berenike’s name, as a variant of the double
cornucopia—​Arsinoë II’s unique attribute, reportedly invented by Ptolemy II to symbolize
double Ptolemaic benefactions—​,30a single cornucopia appears. It is wrapped in the royal
diadem and filled with fruits, cake and, as a new addition, grain, which points at Berenike’s asso-
ciation with Demeter, maybe in connection with her descent from the Kyrenaian granary.31 The
cornucopia is mostly accompanied by the symbols of the Dioskouroi: two stars or two conical

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caps.32 According to Kallimachos, likely reflecting an official claim, the Dioskouroi, wanderers
between the spheres of the mortals and immortals and often evoked as saviors of seafarers, took
Arsinoë II to heaven (F 228 Pf.). Fittingly, one of her divine functions was the protection of the
Ptolemaic maritime power. The symbols of the Dioskouroi on the coins bonded Berenike II
ideologically with them and the deified Arsinoë.
On coins showing Berenike’s daughter Arsinoë III on the obverse, a single star appears on the
reverse, certainly a reference to Berenike’s catasterized lock.33 Reportedly, Arsinoë III imitated
her mother’s dedication of a lock (Anth. Gr. 6.277), perhaps on the eve of the battle of Raphia
in 217 where she appeared together with her sibling husband Ptolemy IV (Polyb. 5.83.3, 84.1,
87.6).34
Berenike II and Ptolemy III had six children: Arsinoë, Ptolemy, Magas, Alexandros, a child
whose name is unknown, and Berenike.35 The names, each accompanied by their ethnic iden-
tifier “Macedon,” are preserved on the statue bases that are left of a family group at Thermos
in northwestern Greece (IG IX 1² 1, 56), likely commissioned by the Aitolians, with whom
Ptolemy had allied in 229/​228.36 According to the contemporary Decree of Kanopos (238),
little Berenike died as a child and was consecrated as ἀνάσσης παρθένων (“Mistress of Virgins”)
(OGI 56, ll. 45–​73).37 Her cult statue was introduced into the Egyptian temples and adorned
with a special crown made of two ears of grain, an asp, and a papyrus-​shaped scepter (OGI 56,
ll. 61–​63).The grain as an iconographic element hints at her mother’s association with Demeter
and implies that little Berenike was paralleled with Demeter’s daughter Persephone, both linked
to fertility.38 Accordingly, the first grains were to be sacrificed to the new goddess and the wives
of the priests received a “loaf of Berenike” (OGI 56, ll. 68, 72–​73).The population was supposed
to participate in mourning the dead child,39 another means to align the people to the Ptolemies.
Even the dead members of the dynasty were involved in its promotion, sometimes particularly
successfully.
Ptolemy III died in 222/​221 and was succeeded by Ptolemy IV. Shortly after, in 221, Berenike
was eliminated, reportedly by poison, on the instigation of the influential courtier Sosibios, who
had built his career under Ptolemy III (Polyb. 5.36.1; 15.25.1–​2). Presumably, Berenike was
killed because she and her faction had supported her other son Magas, who also had to die (Plut.
Kleom. 33.5; Just 30.1.2), or because they at least tried to cut Sosibios’ influence.40 However, the
background is blurred by the bias of our literary sources, which concentrate on a stereotypical
depiction of the loss of morals and political decline at the Ptolemaic court.

Poetic images of Berenike II

Berenike is particularly present in contemporary Alexandrian poetry that addressed a
sophisticated courtly audience and reflected the main elements of Ptolemaic ideology, cultural
politics, and dynastic representation.41 Kallimachos of Kyrene, Berenike’s compatriot, who had
sung her father’s praise (F 388 Pf.) and celebrated her as a fourth Grace (Ep. 51 Pf.), is one of
the most famous Hellenistic poets. She essentially owed her posthumous fame to him.
Kallimachos’ Aitia—​a series of poetic explanations for the origin of current circumstances
tracing the evolution to third-​century Alexandria—​contain two poems on Berenike. The
famous Lock of Berenike (Greek: Βερενίκης πλόκαμος; Latin: Coma Berenices) is regarded as
reflecting a “foundational story for the third generation of the Ptolemaic dynasty,” engineered
by the court.42 While the Greek original only survives in fragments (F 110 Pf.), it is preserved
as a whole by the Latin translation of the Roman poet Catullus (Carm. 66).43
The poem’s historical setting is the so-​called Third Syrian War (246–​241). At the beginning
of his rule, Ptolemy III invaded the Seleukid territory. In 252, his sister Berenike had married

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Antiochos II (App. Syr. 65). Since she bore Antiochos II a son and potential heir, Ptolemy III
felt justified to interfere in Seleukid succession matters when, after Antiochos II’s death, not
his nephew but Seleukos II, Antiochos II’s son by his other wife Laodike, succeeded (Polyain.
Strat. 8.50; Polyb. 5.58.11).44 Officially waging war either to support or avenge his sister and
nephew—​they were assassinated and the exact date is debated (Austin no. 266, col. IV 20–​22;
Polyain. 8.50; Just. 27.1.7)—​,45 Ptolemy claimed to have reached Baktria (OGI 54, ll. 18–​20). In
fact, he came as far as Babylon (App. Syr. 65). His Eastern achievements were only ephemeral,
but he established control over Seleukia in Pieria, Ephesos, and Miletos.46
According to Kallimachos, when Ptolemy departed, his young wife Berenike vowed to sac-
rifice a lock of her hair if he would return safely—​a variant of a Greek custom (Il. 23.140–​149).
Berenike kept her promise, according to Hyginus (astron. 2.24) at the temple of her ideological
mother Arsinoë II at Cape Zephyrion near Alexandria. Arsinoë was venerated there as Kypris
Zephyritis, a protectress of Ptolemaic seafaring and young love.47 The lock was blown up to the
sky, transformed into a star and discovered by the astronomer and mathematician Konon. The
lock’s catasterization is mostly interpreted as a prelude to Berenike’s deification that followed
soon, together with that of her husband.48 Literally, Berenike’s name was inscribed into the
stars: a star constellation located between Virgo and Leo is called Coma Berenices.49
In his poem, Kallimachos shows a romanticized picture of the royal couple. In the voice of
Berenike’s lock itself as an eye-​witness, he provides an artificial insight into the honeymoon
suite (Catull. 66.11–​25). The theme of mutual love, passion, and harmony in the royal house as
one key factor of the dynastic image, engineered by Ptolemy II, served to ensure that the off-
spring was legitimate, the house stood solid as a rock, provided peace and prosperity, and kept
any succession struggles at bay.50 Kallimachos skillfully combines the royal love theme with the
celebration of Arsinoë Zephyritis as a protectress of the Ptolemaic (maritime) power and with
the image of Berenike following in her footsteps.
As for Berenike’s warlike and naval image, according to one of the different interpretations
of a mosaic from Thmouis (eastern Delta) signed by the artist Sophilos and dated to the third
century, it may show her as embodying Ptolemaic naval prowess. The mosaic shows a figure
with a shield and purple cloak, holding a mast with its yardarm adorned with the diadem and
wearing a ship’s prow on the head.51
It is debated to what extent the Greek poets at the Ptolemaic court of Ptolemy II and
Ptolemy III—​ dominated by Macedonians and Greeks—​ reflected Egyptian themes. Some
scholars suggest that Kallimachos’ Lock paralleled Isis’ mourning of Osiris or Hathor-​Tefnout’s
transformation from a wild lioness into a soft (still warlike) beauty, or showed Berenike as a
guarantor of world order in Egyptian terms by locating the catasterized lock at the battlefield of
the nightly fight between chaos and order.52 However, other scholars recognize the construc-
tion of a purely Greek literary space with only marginal references to Egyptian themes that
were common knowledge and not directed at an Egyptian audience.53
Another matter of debate is the suggestion that Demetrios’ assassination was inconvenient
for Berenike’s image as a Ptolemaic basilissa and had to be retold in a way favorable to her.54
Kallimachos’ reference to Berenike’s brave or noble deed (bonum facinus) in his Lock is often
interpreted as an allusion to the murder.55 According to Clayman, in his oeuvre, Kallimachos
referred multiple times to the incident, transforming the resolute girl into a virgin bride pure of
heart, dutiful wife, and loving mother, associated with Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Isis, and their
links to marriage, fertility, and love.56
However, even if Kallimachos alluded to Demetrios’ assassination—​the suggestion is not
uncontested—​,57 it is far from certain that he did so in order to justify Berenike. It is not even
clear that she had any image problems. Her—​undefined—​involvement in Demetrios’ murder

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may have been a problem at the Antigonid court. But it is doubtful that at the Ptolemaic court,
the elimination of an Antigonid who had snatched away the rich Kyrenaika, thus an act that
paved the way for its return under Ptolemaic control, required any justification or positive
reinterpretation. In addition, the Ptolemaic court was a political world. The courtiers were
knowledgeable about the mechanisms of marriage policies, factional strife, and establishment of
political control, which often involved violence.
Clayman’s thesis that in his epic Argonautika—​a modernized version of Jason’s search for the
golden fleece with allusions to Alexander III’s wars—​Apollonios Rhodios created a more nega-
tive version of Berenike (paralleling her to the murderous Medea) and therefore was replaced
as the head of the Alexandrian library,58 is similarly speculative. Gutzwiller interprets Medea’s
role in the Argonautika—​in her view “a foundation story in which the Argonauts’ connection to
Africa becomes a mythical precedent for the new Ptolemaic kingdom”—​as a sign of “a cultural
audience coming to terms with women’s power and privilege,” thus a marker of the increasing
visibility of Macedonian royal women such as Berenike.59
In the Victoria Berenikes in his Aitia, Kallimachos celebrates Berenike’s chariot victory at the
Nemean Games (SH 254–​268). Hellenistic royals like her participated through the patronage of
professional charioteers and provision of the racing horses.60 A victory at the Panhellenic games
stressed her Hellenic persona and contributed to the glory of her house.61 Connecting Berenike’s
success with the foundation of the Nemean Games by Herakles, benefactor of the Greeks and
ancestor of the Argeads and Ptolemies, Kallimachos suggests a heroic (and ancestral) prototype
for it.62 Berenike’s equestrian victories at Panhellenic games were also praised in the epigrams of
the Milan papyrus, ascribed to Poseidippos of Pella, another poet working in Alexandria under
Ptolemaic patronage.63
In 211/​210, roughly a decade after her assassination, Ptolemy IV installed a separate cult for
his mother Berenike and appointed her own annual priestess called athlophoros (“prize-​bearer”)
(OGI 90, l. 5), apparently referring to Berenike’s victories at the Panhellenic games.64 It is
suggested that he tried to exploit her reputation as a winner in times of political crisis.65 In the
ruler cult, her priestess got precedence over the kanephoros (“bearer of a (sacred) basket”), the
priestess of Arsinoë II’s separate cult, on which it was likely modeled. The cultic presence of
the Ptolemaic royal women left its traces: female members of Egyptian priestly families were
given the names Berenike and Arsinoë.66

Regency and co-​rule?

The assumption that Berenike II acted as regent of the Kyrenaika (before her marriage to
Ptolemy III and/​or during his war) and/​or of the Ptolemaic empire during the war in Asia,67
is based on a—​disputed—​interpretation of numismatic evidence. There exist Kyrenaian silver
didrachms and bronze coins struck in the name of the basilissa Berenike showing a diademed
unveiled female bust with a melon coiffure (the typical hairstyle of female Ptolemies on portraits,
named after its shape) on the obverse. It is widely assumed that Berenike II was the issuing
authority and that the coins implied that she acted as regent in the Kyrenaika or the Ptolemaic
empire.68 However, according to recent re-​evaluations, these Berenike coins were likely issued
under Magas and showed his mother Berenike I.69 This identification with Berenike I had
been suggested before.70 As a parallel, Magas issued matching coins with Ptolemy I’s portrait
and linked both series by his monogram (Μ). Lorber sees the two series as a demonstration of
Magas’ goodwill after his reconciliation with Ptolemy II: the latter’s parents and prime factors of
his dynastic legitimization were shown, perhaps as a variant of their jugate portrait on Ptolemy
II’s Alexandrian coins.71

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Similarly, the legend naming the basilissa Berenike on the reverse of the famous issues from
Egypt showing her veiled and diademed portrait on the obverse do not imply that she was the
issuing authority: it only indicates that the coins were minted in her name, perhaps in honor of
her.72 The use of these, the largest silver and gold pieces ever struck by the Ptolemies, probably
issued for special occasions, is still debated.73 In sum, the numismatic evidence does not support
the thesis that Berenike II ruled the Kyrenaika after Magas’ death or the united Ptolemaic
Empire during Ptolemy III’s absence.
Berenike’s Egyptian titles are often quoted as another indicator of her assumed (co-​)regency,
particularly because she was the first Ptolemaic royal woman to receive a female Horus name.74
However, Herklotz stresses the peculiarity that Berenike, the female Horus title’s bearer, does
not appear on her own but always in connection with her husband, the bearer of the male Horus
title.75 Her titles might have been an attempt by the Egyptian priests to translate Berenike’s
prominent role in the dual Ptolemaic representation into Egyptian terms.76 Granted this, the
titles cannot be seen as a proof of any political regnal functions.

Conclusion
Berenike’s appearance as her husband’s complement in the official monarchical representation is
not proof that she was his co-​regent. All that we can say is that according to their public dynastic
image in accordance with the ideological guidelines installed by Ptolemy II, the mastermind of
the Ptolemaic dual representation, they appeared as an inseparable unity. It is uncertain to what
extent this was more than just an image.
Thanks to Kallimachos and his reception by Catullus, Berenike did not cease to be
remembered. The Coma Berenices was acknowledged as a star constellation of its own in the
sixteenth century CE.77 The historical Berenike vanished behind her artificial images in
the Ptolemaic representation policy. The extent of her freedom of movement and possible
influence on the politics of her native and marital houses remains uncertain.

Notes
1 I am grateful to Cathy Lorber. Unless indicated otherwise, all dates are BCE.
2 Carney 2013: 6; Carney 2011: 203. See also ­chapters 26 and 27 in this volume.
3 Carney 2019: 112–​5; Carney 2011: 202 (the functional significance varied); Carney 2010: 419–​20;
Carney 1991.
4 Carney 2011: 196, 202, 205.
5 Carney 2011: 195; Ager 2003: 41.
6 Hose 2015: 301; Weber 2011: 89; Pfeiffer 2004: 16; Carrez-​Maratray 2008. Just. 26.3.3 calls Berenike’s
mother Arsinoë instead of Apame. This may either be erroneous (Lorber 2018: I.1, 68, n. 84) or
conforming to the Ptolemaic protocol (van Oppen de Ruiter 2015: 11). In a Greek inscription from
Thermos, probably dating to the 320s, Berenike is, however, called “the daughter of Magas” (IG IX 1² 1,
56). On the background of Ptolemy II’s sibling marriage see Carney 2013: 65–​82; Prioux 2011: 215–​8,
224; Müller 2009: 105–​11.
7 See Chapter 29; Müller 2017; Carney 2013: 70–​82; Ager 2005; Ogden 1999: 80; Carney 1987.
8 Alexander: Curt. 4.7.9–​10; Diod. 17.49.2–​3; Ptolemy: Diod. 18.21.6–​9. Cf. Worthington 2016: 94;
Müller 2016: 224–​32, 236–​40; Pfeiffer 2015: 26–​33; McAuley 2015: 428–​31; Hölbl 1994: 19; Laronde
1987: 85–​91.
9 Worthington 2016: 114, 174; Thompson 2003: 106–​7; Hölbl 1994: 21; Laronde 1987: 356–​61.
10 McAuley 2016: 179 (Magas married Apame before his revolt); Grainger 2010: 81–​91.
11 Ager 2003: 38.
12 Lorber 2018: I.1, 33; I.2, 81 B 255. Cf. McAuley 2016: 179; Hölbl 1994: 36.

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13 McAuley 2016: 181–​2; Clayman 2014: 34–​5; Grainger 2010: 146–​50; Huß 2001: 333; Laronde
1987: 380–​1. On the higher dating see Lorber 2018: I.1, 68, 117; Forrer 1969: 11. On the lower dating
see Clayman 2014: 34–​5; Huß 2001: 333; Hölbl 1994: 44. Athen. 12.550 B attributes a 50-​year reign
to Magas (however, citing a biased fragment of Agatharchides of Knidos: BNJ 86 F 7). For the chrono-
logical difficulties see van Oppen de Ruiter 2015: 7–​22; Buttrey 1997: 37–​41.
14 Lorber 2018: I.1, 68, n. 82 argues that this nullified the marital arrangement and there was no evidence
whether or when the betrothal was negotiated in favor of Ptolemy III. For the debate on the identity
of Ptolemy the son see Carney 2013: 125–​6, 144–​5; Müller 2009: 94–​100.
15 D’Agostini 2017; Ager 2003: 44; Laronde 1987: 380–​2.
16 McAuley 2016: 177–​89. Cf. D’Agostini 2017; Clayman 2014: 36; Hölbl 1994: 44.
17 Carney 2011: 208, argueing against Ogden 1999: 155.
18 McAuley 2016: 185–​7; Lorber 2018: I.1, 68; McAuley 2015: 428–​33; van Oppen de Ruiter 2015: 7–​
22; Clayman 2014: 36–​7; Llewellyn-​Jones and Winder 2010: 248; Hölbl 1994: 44; Laronde 1987: 382.
Barbantani 2011: 191 sees a reference to the factional struggle in Kallimachos’ Hymn to Apollon, ll. 25–​7.
19 Clayman 2014: 38–​9; Huß 2001: 333–​4, 426; Hölbl 1994: 46.
20 Obviously, Trogus-​Justin or his source interpreted Demetrios’ nickname in a one-​dimensional way. In
Greek eyes, kalos was not restricted to physical beauty but encompassed inner virtues. Contra Clayman
2014: 37.
21 Clayman 2014: 39–​40, 133. Another example might be mentioned by Joseph. AJ 8.163. However, it
is debated after which Berenike the cities carrying her name were renamed. On the symbolism of
eponymous cities see Carney 1988.
22 Weber 2010: 71; Thompson 2003: 115.
23 Pfeiffer 2015: 88–​91, no. 15; Weber 2011: 89, 94; Weber 2010: 71; Pfeiffer 2004: 16–​17; Chaniotis
2003: 437; Huß 2001: 337–​8. Cf. Chapter 9 in this volume.
24 Chaniotis 2003: 437.
25 Clayman 2014: 168–​71; Pfeiffer 2004: 282; Plantzos 1999: 43–​4, 48; Thompson 1973: 20, no. 139.
26 Palagia 2007: 237–​8; Huß 2001: 358; Habicht 1997: 182–​3; Hölbl 1994: 51–​2.
27 Carney 2013: 106–​10; Müller 2009: 134–​8, 262–​6; 280–​300, 385–​6.
28 Llewellyn-​Jones and Winder 2010: 256–​64. Cf. Prioux and Trinquier 2015: 47–​8; Carney 2013: 8–​9;
Pfeiffer 2004: 32.
29 Pfeiffer 2004; Herklotz 2000: 46–​54.
30 Ath. 11.497b–​c. Cf. Carney 2013: 114–​5; Müller 2009: 373–​80.
31 Müller 2009: 352–​3; Mørkholm 1991: 106. On the association with Demeter see Hölbl 1994: 99;
Pantos 1987.
32 Clayman 2014: 129; Müller 2007: 152–​3; Schwentzel 2000: 101; Beyer-​Rotthoff 1993: 28.
33 Müller 2007: 153.
34 Huß 2001: 464; Gutzwiller 1992: 371–​2; Hölbl 1994: 115–​6. According to the categorization of
Carney 2004: 184–​95, this is symbolic leadership.
35 Huß 1975: 312–​20.
36 Lorber 2018: I.1, 151. Huß 1975: 320 tentatively dates the group to 324. On the alliance see Hölbl
1994: 51.
37 Pfeiffer 2004: 144–​94; Hölbl 1994: 102–​3.
38 It may also allude to Osiris. Clayman 2014: 167–​8; Pfeiffer 2004: 268–​9.
39 Clayman 2014: 167–​8. In the city Arsinoë in Kilikia, the cult for little Berenike was also celebrated
(Austin no. 272, l. 33).
40 Clayman 2014: 172, 183; Clayman 2011: 243; Herklotz 2000: 46; Hölbl 1994: 111–​12; Macurdy
1932: 135. On Sosibios (PP VI 77239) see Huß 2001: 458–​9.
41 Harder 2010: 94–​5, 105; Strootman 2010: 37–​44. See also Chapter 10 in this volume. On poetry at the
Ptolemaic court in general see Strootman 2017; Barbantani 2010; Weber 1993.
42 Gutzwiller 2007: 67. Cf. Prioux 2011: 203–​4.
43 Marinone 1997: 55–​8. Cf. Rossi 2000.
44 See Coşkun 2016: 123–​5; Chapters 15 and 17 in this volume.
45 Clayman 2014: 126–​7; Austin 2006: 463–​4, with n. 6; Huß 2001: 341–​4. Cf. Strootman 2014: 236–​7.
46 Coşkun 2016: 111; Ager 2003: 43–​4; Huß 2001: 338–​52; Hölbl 1994: 46–​50.
47 It is debated whether, according to Kallimachos, the lock was dedicated in the temple of Kypris
Zephyritis (Clayman 2014: 128; Prioux 2011: 219; Carrez-​ Maratray 2008: 112–​13; Bertazzoli
2002: 147; Stephens 2002: 241; Gutzwiller 1992: 363; Macurdy 1932: 133) or in another temple,

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close to the Alexandrian port, and blown to Cape Zephyrion (Strootman 2014: 214; Asper 2004: 175,
n. 100; Huß 2001: 353). Cf. Marinone 1997: 160–​2. On the Greek model for the hair-​cutting ritual
see Clayman 2014: 100; Gutzwiller 1992: 369–​73; Nachtergael 1980: 240–​5, 247–​53.
48 Stephens 2002: 242; Huß 2001: 354; Koenen 1993: 90.
49 Van Oppen de Ruiter 2015: 109; Clayman 2014: 101; Marinone 1997: 181.
50 Carney 2013: 37; Prioux 2011: 207–​9; Müller 2009: 136–​8.
51 Clayman 2014: 136; Palagia 2007: 243; Andreae 2003: 35–​6; Koenen 1993: 27. A second mosaic is
either held for a copy of the first or for a portrait of Arsinoë II (Kuttner 1999: 111–​13). Cf. Carney
2013: 164, n. 64. On Berenike’s portraits cf. Schernig 2004; on intaglios portraying her see Plantzos
1999: 48, 50, 114 nos. 30–​2.
52 Prioux 2011: 213–​14; Llewellyn-​Jones and Winder 2010: 262 (Hathor was known for her beautiful
hair: the Lady of the Lock); Selden 1998; Koenen 1993: 108; Nachtergael 1980. On this approach cf.
Stephens 2003; Stephens 2002.
53 Asper 2011: 174–​7; Asper 2004: 19–​20; Gutzwiller 2007: 192–​3. Hunter 2003: 484 notes an apparent
lack of interest by Alexandrian poets in Egyptian things.
54 Clayman 2014: 103. Cf. McAuley 2016: 187–​9.
55 Van Oppen de Ruiter 2015: 9; Clayman 2014: 98; Clayman 2011: 231–​44; Ogden 1999: 81; Gutzwiller
1992: 378; Macurdy 1932: 132.
56 Clayman 2014: 78–​104.
57 For an overview including the alternative that it referred to the rescue of her father (Hyg. astron.
2.24.11-​18) see Marinone 1997: 112.
58 Clayman 2014: 105–​20. On Apollonios see Gutzwiller 2007: 74–​84; Hunter 2003: 484.
59 Gutzwiller 2007: 77, 81. Cf. Hunter 2003: 492.
60 Prioux 2011: 202–​3. On the sponsorship see Thompson 2005: 272; Bielman Sánchez 2002: 268–​70;
Pomeroy 1984: 20–​2.
61 Hose 2015: 308.
62 Prioux and Trinquier 2015: 44–​5; Prioux 2011: 203; Harder 2010: 96; Hunter 2003: 490; Gutzwiller
1992: 379, n. 54.
63 AB 78–​81; AB 87–​88. Ep. 82. AB mentions the victory of Berenike’s horse at the Isthmian Games. It is
debated whether the victor is always Berenike II. Cf. Chapter 10 in this volume; Hose 2015: 299–​316;
Clayman 2014: 142–​58; Müller 2009: 229–​38; Kosmetatou 2004: 232; Fantuzzi 2005: 265–​6; Bennett
2005; Criscuolo 2003: 326–​31; Parsons 1977.
64 Weber 2011: 91; Minas 2000: 116–​17.
65 Minas 2000: 111–​12.
66 Carney 2013: 128; Thompson 2003: 115; Pfeiffer 2004: 283.
67 Herklotz 2000: 45, 55–​ 6; Hölbl 1994: 45; Caltabiano 1998; Caltabiano 1996: 188–​ 9; Macurdy
1932: 132 believes in the joint rule of the Kyrenaika (however as an unmarried couple), cf. Llewellyn-​
Jones and Winder 2010: 249. Pfeiffer 2004: 21 thinks that she ruled during the Third Syrian War.
68 Herklotz 2000: 55; Caltabiano 1996: 188–​9; Kyrieleis 1975: 94; Thompson 1973: 85, n. 1.
69 Lorber 2018: I.1, 116–​ 7; I.2, 77–​ 8, 80–​1 (issued in Euesperides); Asolati 2011: 134; Buttrey
1997: 37–​8.
70 Mørkholm 1991: 102; Plantzos 1999: 47; Hazzard 1995: 3; Forrer 1969: 11, nos. 32–​3 (however, dating
the issues to Magas’ revolt); Svoronos 1904–​1908: II, 51–​2.
71 Lorber 2018: I.1, 116–​17; I.2, 77–​8, 80–​1.The coins showing Ptolemy I were issued at Kyrene. On the
Ptolemaic jugate portraits see Chapter 30.
72 Lorber 2018: I.1, 153, 163, 389, 391–​2, nos. 728–​31; LeRider and de Callataÿ 2006: 37, 52–​3; Mørkholm
1991: 106. The same is true for the special coins (mnaineia) in the name of Arsinoë Philadelphos, cf.
Lorber 2018: I.1, 105–​10; Carney 2013: 120–​2; Müller 2009: 365–​80. Alternatively, the Berenike
issues are thought to show Ptolemy III’s sister: Llewellyn-​Jones and Winder 2010: 251; Ager 2003: 43;
Hazzard 1995: 5–​6. Contra: LeRider and de Callataÿ 2006: 53.
73 Lorber 2018: I.1, 153, 163–​6; LeRider and de Callataÿ 2006: 37.
74 Lorber 2018: I.1, 148–​9; Minas 2005: 135, 142; Pfeiffer 2004: 21, n. 138, 31, 69; Herklotz 2000: 43,
52–​54; Koenen 1993: 56; Troy 1986: 179.
75 Herklotz 2000: 52–​3. Cf. Hölbl 1994: 99.
76 Given this, it would be comparable to the case of Arsinoë II, cf. Minas 2005: 152.
77 Sprondel and Schröder 2013: 175.

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Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors and document collections not listed here are those found in the Oxford
Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

AB Austin, C. and Bastianini, G. (eds.) 2002. Posidippi Pellaei quae supersunt omnia. Milan.
Anth. Gr. Greek Anthology
Austin Austin, M. 2006. The Hellenistic World from Alexander to the Roman Conquest, 2nd ed.
Cambridge.
Pfeiffer Pfeiffer, R. (ed.) 1949–​53. Callimachus, vols. I–​II. Oxford.
PP Peremans, W. and Van’t Dack, E. (eds.) 1950–​2002. Prosopographia Ptolemaica, 10 vols. Leuven.
SH Lloyd-​Jones, H. and Parsons, P. (eds.) 1983. Supplementum Hellenisticum. Leiden.

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Schwentzel, C.G. 2000.“Les cornes d’abondance ptolémaïques dans la numismatique.” Cahiers de Recherches
de l’Institut de Papyrologie et d’Égyptologie de Lille 21: 99–​103.
Selden, D.L. 1998. “Alibis.” Classical Antiquity 17: 289–​412.
Sprondel, J. and Schröder, B. 2013. “Berenike.” Der Neue Pauly Supplement 8: 175–​86.
Stephens, S.A. 2002. “Egyptian Callimachus.” In F. Mantanavi and L. Lehnus (eds.), Callimaque. Sept exposés.
Geneva, 235–​62.
Stephens, S.A. 2003. Seeing Double: Intercultural Poetics in Ptolemaic Alexandria. Berkeley and London.
Strootman, R. 2010. “Literature and the Kings.” In J.J. Clauss and M. Cuypers (eds.), A Companion to
Hellenistic Literature. Oxford and Malden, 30–​45.
Strootman, R. 2014. Courts and Elites in the Hellenistic Empires. Edinburgh.
Strootman, R. 2017. The Birdcage of the Muses: Patronage of the Arts and Sciences at the Ptolemaic Imperial Court,
305–​222 BCE. Leuven.
Svoronos, I.N. 1904–​1908. Ta nomismata tou kratous Ptolemaion, 4 vols. Athens.
Thompson, D.B. 1973. Ptolemaic Oinochoai and Portraits in Faience. Oxford.
Thompson, D.B. 2003. “The Ptolemies and Egypt.” In A. Erskine (ed.), A Companion to the Hellenistic World.
Oxford, 105–​20.
Thompson, D.B. 2005. “Posidippus, Poet of the Ptolemies.” In K.J. Gutzwiller (ed.), The New Posidippus.
Oxford, 269–​83.
Troy, L. 1986. Patterns of Queenship in Ancient Egyptian Myth and History. Uppsala.
Van Oppen de Ruiter, B.F. 2015. Berenice II Euergetis: Essays in Early Hellenistic Queenship. New York.
Weber, G. 1993. Dichtung und höfische Gesellschaft. Die Rezeption von Zeitgeschichte am Hof der ersten drei
Ptolemäer. Stuttgart.
Weber, G. 2010. “Ungleichheiten, Integration oder Adaptation?” In G. Weber (ed.), Alexandreia und das
ptolemäische Ägypten. Berlin, 55–​83.
Weber, G. 2011. “Der ptolemäische Herrscher-​und Dynastiekult—​ein Experimentierfeld für Makedonen,
Griechen und Ägypter.” In L.-​M. Günther and S. Plischke (eds.), Studien zum vorhellenistischen und
hellenistischen Herrscherkult. Berlin, 77–​97.
Worthington, I. 2016. Ptolemy I: King and Pharaoh of Egypt. Oxford.

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9
ROYAL WOMEN AND
PTOLEMAIC CULTS
Stefan Pfeiffer

Arsinoë II –​the religious role model of the deified basilissa

The special role of the female members of the Ptolemaic dynasty began when Arsinoë II,
daughter of Ptolemy I, escaped in the 270s from her murderous half-​brother and husband,
king Ptolemy Keraunos in Macedonia, and found refuge with her brother, king Ptolemy II in
Alexandria.1 At some point before 273 BCE, Ptolemy took his sister as his spouse (cf. Chapters 7
and 29),2 likely for politico-​dynastic reasons: after Ptolemy I had founded the royal house, his
son, eager to foster its legitimacy, presented himself and his spouse as living incarnations of the
preceding royal couple.3 In order to create a sacral aura for this unconventional sibling union,
he may have equated the marriage of his sister to the marriage of Zeus and his sister Hera, for
his Greco-​Macedonian subjects,4 and to Osiris and Isis, for his Egyptian subjects.5 Ptolemy II
underlined the importance of the marriage by creating an epithet for his sister: brother-​loving
(philadelphos).6

Arsinoë –​a new Greek goddess in Alexandria and beyond

Ptolemy’s first aim was to implement a new ruler cult in Alexandria and the vast territories of
his empire outside Egypt. He therefore not only deified his parents with the epithet “the savior
gods” (Theoi Soteres),7 but also officially propagated his own and his sister’s veneration as the
“sibling gods” (Theoi Adelphoi),8 erecting for himself and his wife temples and altars.9 Some time
before 272/​271 BCE these “sibling gods” were attached to the cult of Alexander the Great in
Alexandria, too. The eponymous priest, mentioned in every dating protocol in the Ptolemaic
empire, was from now on “priest of Alexander and the Theoi Adelphoi.”10 The official character
of the two new gods can be seen by the fact that Ptolemy and Arsinoë were also included in the
official oath formula, a practice that lasted until the end of the Ptolemaic dynasty.11
Since Arsinoë II had died the end of the 270s BCE,12 she would have been Ptolemy’s con-
sort for only about five years. It is therefore difficult to evaluate the political influence she had
in running the empire.13 The least one can say is that the court wanted her to appear as active
co-​ruler.14 She even dedicated the largest round building we know from the Greek world to
the sanctuary of the Great Gods in Samothrace; however, one does not know if she already had
the means to do this as spouse of King Ptolemy Keraunos, or only after she had married her

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full brother.15 The dedication itself nevertheless emphasizes the important role of the wife of a
Hellenistic king. Granted her short “reign,” her influence would have nevertheless had limited
effect on Ptolemy’s politics, whereas after her death, her image and her cult played a prepon-
derant role in the representation of kingship and empire.16 Most scholars therefore think that
her complete apotheosis as thea philadelphos was posthumous.17 Soon after her death, Ptolemy
II established an eponymous priestess called “bearer of the (golden) basket” (kanephoros), who
was responsible for the cult of the goddess Arsinoë,18 and who was listed after the “priest of
Alexander and the Theoi Adelphoi” in every official dating formula.19 A feast called the Arsinoeia
was also instituted in Alexandria for the new goddess.20 The epithet of the priestess shows that
processions were an important part of the rituals of the newly instituted cult. Since processions
were normally conducted along the most important official and religious places of a city like
Alexandria, the aim was to achieve visibility of the new goddess, to publicize her and encourage
the citizenry to participate in the cult. Normally such processions were combined with abun-
dant food and free wine,21 surely guaranteeing a positive emotional connection to Arsinoë. It is
likely that so-​called Ptolemaic oinochoai, special wine jugs made of faience that show pictures of
Arsinoë II and later other Ptolemaic queens, were used to make wine libations in the context
of this or similar royal processions for Ptolemaic basilissai.22 On some of these wine-​pitchers
a Greek inscription equates Arsinoë with Isis, which clearly demonstrates that even a Greek-​
styled festival could incorporate an “Egyptian face” for the Ptolemaic queen.23 Sometimes the
basilissai on these jugs are also presented as the hybrid Greco-​Egyptian Isis with her typical, but
newly created, costume, a mantle that is tied between the breasts with a so-​called Isis knot.24
Arsinoë II was honored with a temple at the harbor of Alexandria, just to the west of the
palace quarter. The erection of the highest obelisk ever built in Egypt, measuring 42 meters,
inside her temple, asserted Arsinoë’s connection to her homeland.25 Admiral Kallikrates, one
of the highest-​ranking Ptolemaic functionaries, dedicated another temple to this new “basilissa
Arsinoë Aphrodite” at Cape Zephyrion and combined her name with the epiklesis Kypris,
the epithet of Aphrodite of Cyprus, the goddess of the gentle west-​wind (zephyrites).26 With
the placement of both temples on the coast and bearing the epithet “fair sailing” (euploia),
Arsinoë became a goddess of navigation.27 Thus, eventually she also became a popular goddess
of the Ptolemaic navy, as indicated by the many altars dedicated to her throughout the eastern
Mediterranean.28
As a goddess in her own right, Arsinoë needed a new attribute, the double cornucopia
(dikeras), that directly pointed to the second function of Arsinoë as patron deity of fecundity.
Gold coins (mnaieiai) from the later 260s BCE onwards, on the obverse show a veiled Arsinoë II
with a ram’s horn around her ear and a lotus scepter behind her and, on the reverse, the double
cornucopia, encircled by the inscription “(coin of) Arsinoë Philadelphos.”29 Thus, the figure
of Arsinoë established the famous Ptolemaic ruler ideal of tryphe (“living a life of luxury”), an
ideal that celebrated the well-​being Ptolemaic rule brought to its subjects.30 The fleshy depic-
tion of the faces of Arsinoë or later queens also embodied tryphe. Again, the new Greek goddess
belonged to Egypt too since she had Greek and Egyptian attributes.The aspect of fecundity, also
attested by her epithet “the fruit-​bearing” (karpophoros),31 is closely related to the re-​naming of
the Faijum oasis, re-​irrigated by Ptolemy II, “district of Arsinoë” (Arsinoites nomos).
The foundation of cities on the coasts of the Mediterranean and the Red Sea named after
Arsinoë means that she must have had temples and cults as the eponymous deity of the cities.32
Indeed, the fact, that most city foundations of the Ptolemies were named after basilissai (Arsinoë,
Philadelphia, Philoteris, Berenike, or Kleopatris) confirms the importance of the female part
of the dynasty for the representation of power.33 In keeping with this policy, Ptolemy II also
declared his other sister Philotera a Greek and Egyptian goddess.34

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Arsinoë: becoming an Egyptian goddess

The Egyptian face of Arsinoë during her lifetime was rather superficial; she even lacked an
elaborated titulary as Egyptian co-​regent of her brother.35 However, directly after her death, she
was established as an Egyptian goddess, and in this aspect she became one of the most important
royal gods of the Ptolemaic era. In every Egyptian temple, statues of “the goddess who loves
her brother” were erected.36 Her epithet “female King of Upper and Lower Egypt”37 also
assimilated her to Isis, Hathor, and other goddesses.38 A special Egyptian crown, designed for her
alone, makes her easily identifiable. It combines the crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt, out of
which stick two feathers, a ram’s horn, cow’s horn, and a solar disk.39
The new cult was funded with a special tax (apomoira) that soldiers and royal functionaries
had to pay from the revenues of their orchards and gardens, from which temple land was expli-
citly exempt.40

Berenike II –​the political role model of Ptolemaic female pharaohs

We do not know to what extent Berenike II had real political influence in court life or
whether she co-​ruled (see also Chapter 8).41 In any case, there is more to say about her than her
predecessors, if one looks at her position in cults and royal cultic activities during her lifetime.
Berenike, the daughter of the Kyrenaian king Magas, a brother of Ptolemy II, became “sister
and spouse” of Ptolemy III; Kallimachos refers to her as “sacred blood of the Sibling Gods.”42
Apparently the precedent of Arsinoë had worked out so well that the court thought it plausible
to continue the ideal of brother–​sister-​marriage as something making the king and his spouse
sacral, even when she was not his actual sister. Already at the beginning of Ptolemy’s III reign,
cults for the royal “sibling” pair spread over the empire.43 By 243 BCE both Ptolemy III and
Berenike II were also added to the official state cult of Alexander the Great, as the “beneficent
gods” (Theoi Euergetai), who from now on were included into the titulary of the eponymous
priest of Alexander beside their “parents.”44 Like Arsinoë, Berenike II had her own cults in
Alexandria, too, as the Ptolemaic oinochoai demonstrate.45 The special position of Berenike was,
in the Greek context, shown on gold coins, called Berenikeia nomismata,46 that depict the “fleshy”
portrait of the queen.47 She was also the first basilissa to organize cults herself in Alexandria: she
dedicated two temples for the well-​being of her spouse, her children, and herself.48 After her
death her son Ptolemy IV, following the precedent of Arsinoë II, installed an eponymous
priestess for her called “bearer of the victory prize of the beneficent Berenike” (athlophoros
Berenikes euergetidos), again a title pointing to the importance of processions in the veneration
of the Ptolemaic basilissa. Hereafter, the priestess was to be named directly after the priest of
Alexander in every dating formula and before the kanephoros, who was still also appointed every
year.49 Her son also established posthumously a special temple, a Berenikeion, for his deified
mother in Alexandria.50
Berenike found her way into Egyptian temple religion, too. Here, since the earliest times
pharaoh was the sole and only “master of the ceremonies”: by performing the temple rituals
he guaranteed the world order called Maat, and this is also presented on thousands of temple
reliefs all over Egypt. These reliefs had furthermore a performative function: by showing him
acting as cultic agent, the cults were enacted. This performative role of pharaoh as the main
agent of cult was also taken over by the foreign pharaohs from Macedonia.51 However, it was
slightly changed: in terms of Berenike II’s role in these Ptolemaic temple cults, we can see that
the indigenous priests also incorporated her into their temple religion as an active co-​ruler, a
female pharaoh. From now on, in temple decoration the royal spouse is very often depicted

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behind pharaoh: sometimes assisting him in ritual for the gods, sometimes even performing her
own offerings.This was rarely done in pre-​Ptolemaic times and vanished again with the Roman
domination.52 Berenike was also the first Ptolemaic royal woman to have her own elaborated
titulary, that functioned as a model for all later titularies of Ptolemaic queens.53 The new pos-
ition that the priests attributed to the royal spouse can also be seen in the so-​called “scenes of
ancestor worship” that were depicted on the inner walls of sanctuaries. They show the reigning
pharaoh, accompanied by his wife, performing the rituals in front of all his dynastic male and
female ancestors. These scenes accentuate the importance of the female pharaoh, because in
similar scenes from Pharaonic times, the rituals were performed only by pharaoh and only for
male predecessors; furthermore, not just for the pharaoh’s own dynasty, but for all pharaohs from
the beginning of Pharaonic rule on.54 Further scenes in temple reliefs, called the “transmis-
sion of royalty” and “inscribing the annals” also indicate the new cultic inclusion of the female
pharaoh.55 Now male and females were both instituted as sovereigns! And most important: the
king and often his consort, because of their attributes (the wâs-​and the wadj-​scepters), are
depicted as gods, though the special sandals of the king marked him as the earthly ruler.56 Thus,
in Ptolemaic times, male and female pharaohs were understood as complementary entities and
both could be considered gods who ruled on earth.
We see that priests created Berenike, and from then on every Ptolemaic basilissa, as a co-​
ruler with her spouse, an active agent of the rituals for the gods. A comparison of the sacerdotal
Decree of Alexandria from 243 to the one of Kanopos from 238 BCE demonstrates that this
function developed in the first decade of Berenike’s co-​rule. If one looks at the motivations of
the first one, we only learn about the actions of Ptolemy III alone in favor of the gods, priests, and
people of Egypt.57 This has changed by 238 BCE, because now Ptolemy and Berenike together
perform every good deed for the temples of Egypt.58 However, this cultic agency resulted not
only in benevolence of the Egyptian gods, but in deification of male and female pharaoh, too: in
both the decrees of 243 and 238 BCE, the priests declared Ptolemy and his wife Egyptian gods
because of their good deeds for Egypt and its temples. Statues of both were erected in the inner
sanctuary of every Egyptian temple; they were now Synnaoi Theoi (“temple-​sharing gods”)
all over Egypt. Furthermore, the new gods received public festivals lasting several days, with
processions of their statues.59 All this was something very new, because pharaoh and especially
his spouse were in ancient times not considered gods: the office of pharaoh was divine but not
the person, which means that there were no cults for the living pharaoh in Egyptian temples,
just offerings for his well-​being.60

The Kleopatras
The seven basilissai of the second and first centuries BCE called Kleopatra relied heavily on
the cultic conception of the royal spouse as a Greek and an Egyptian goddess, established with
Arsinoë II, and on her politico-​religious role as female pharaoh, attributed to her since the time
of Berenike II. Moreover, the conception of brother–​sister-​marriage was so deeply rooted that
even Kleopatra I, who was of Seleukid origin, was called the sister of the king.61 As she had
married her “brother” in 193 BCE, when he was already basileus and thus fully integrated into
the Greek and Egyptian ruler cults, the priests of Egypt issued an honorific decree. They state
for the ruler (ḥḳ3.t) Kleopatra:

[As well the Ruler, the Lady of the Two Lands (Kleopatra), … gave] plenty [of silver,
gold and genuine precious stones,] <in order (to produce)> a divine image among
[?]‌the gods of Egypt and the goddesses; she made a great offering performing burnt

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offerings and libations as well as celebrating festivals for [all] the gods of Egypt a[nd the
goddesses. Her piety is great and noble anytime (toward) their affairs and their fields].
(von Recklinghausen and Martinez forthcoming)

Kleopatra appears as female pharaoh, performing rituals and donating offerings to the temples,
which means that she does the same things the male pharaoh has to do. As a consequence of
her cultic agency and donations, the priests ordered that cultic statues of Kleopatra and port-
able shrines should be created and put beside the shrines of the gods in the sanctuary of every
temple in Egypt; Kleopatra, now a goddess, could be venerated together with her spouse and the
other Egyptian gods during the Egyptian temple rituals and during special feasts for the ruling
couple, when the shrines with the statues of the gods were carried around.62 It is evident that
the agency of Kleopatra in Egyptian cults resulted in her deification and cults dedicated to her.
After the death of her husband, Kleopatra I was also the first basilissa who ruled in her own
right over the Ptolemaic empire. Kleopatras II, III and VII gained real political power, too; they
even led armies and had the high command in wars. Temple reliefs (cf. Chapter 3) reflect their
political superiority over their husbands or sons.63 In the Greek context, there was also a “flood”
of new Alexandrian ruler-​cults for the deified basilissai: Arsinoë II and Berenike II had only one,
posthumous eponymous priestess, whereas Kleopatra II got her own priestess when she was still
alive64 and a priestess who performed the cult for Kleopatra, the “mother-​loving saving goddess”
(Thea Philometor Soteira).65 Her daughter Kleopatra III presented herself as incarnation of Isis,
having received a cult by a priest acting as “sacred foal (hieros polos) of Isis, the Great Mother
of the Gods.” She had three more priestesses: a processional priestess called stephanephoros, who
was carrying a crown, a processional priestess carrying a torch called “phosphoros of basilissa
Kleopatra, Thea Euergetis Philometor Soteira Dikaiosyne Nikephoros” and a priestess just called
hiereia. Even a cult of her as “Kleopatra Thea Aphrodite who is also Philometor” is attested.66

Conclusion
The cultic veneration of the Ptolemaic basilissa began during Arsinoë II’s lifetime, but was
extended to her as a thea philadelphos and an Egyptian goddess “who loves her brother” after her
death, since the role of the royal spouse as agent in Greek or Egyptian cults had not yet been
fully elaborated. With Berenike II the Ptolemaic female pharaoh became the role model for the
female agency of the royal spouse in Egyptian temple rituals. She could act as a co-​pharaoh,
even performing in her own relevant rituals that complemented those of the king:67 in this
context, one can speak of a kind of “duality of power.”68 This conception has firm roots in phar-
aonic Egypt,69 but the framing and visibility of it was new, especially since this female agency
resulted in cultic worship of the agent herself. The same may be the case in Greek cults as well,
as we see in the poem “Lock of Berenike,” where the newlywed basilissa is presented as so pious,
that even a lock that she had dedicated to the gods became a constellation.70 It was indeed with
Berenike II that the worship of the living queen as goddess became a common practice, firmly
embedded into Greek and Egyptian temples and rituals.
The special thing about the Ptolemaic monarchy was its two-​headed nature, which means
that the rulers were not only basileis but also pharaohs. However, in Greek contexts, the basilissa
could also have a Greco-​Egyptian representation of her persona, where Egyptian elements
supplemented the Greek appearance of the royal goddess. All in all, the depictions of these
Greco-​Egyptian basilissai were (nearly) identical with the depictions of the Greco-​Egyptian
form of Isis, developed in Alexandria: a presentation of Isis that combines Greek and Egyptian
elements (she had curled locks and the newly invented Greco-​Egyptian dress with its Isis-​knot

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between the breasts).71 It is thereby clear that the basilissa should be considered a living eman-
ation of Isis.72 This “merged” picture of the basilissa was so prevalent that it dominated female
royal representation in Alexandria itself. When a sailor, arriving in Alexandria, looked at the
Pharos lighthouse, the first images he saw of the Ptolemies were monumental statues of them
in pharaonic outfit.73
Why did Ptolemy II want his deified wife to appear in such a way? His recently founded
dynasty lacked either historical or geographical legitimation. The Ptolemies were ethnically
Macedonian but not of royal descent and ruling far away from Macedonia, strongly depending
on the loyalty of Greco-​Macedonian soldiers and settlers. The Greeks and Macedonians who
came to Egypt normally brought their cults with them, or they venerated Egyptian gods by
giving them the names of their familiar gods (Zeus could be seen in Amun or Dionysos in
Osiris). The court therefore might have thought it helpful to create a new Greek goddess who
seemed to non-​Egyptians to be an original Egyptian deity and whose attributes were especially
connected to Egypt, but whose cult in reality had elements of Greek tradition combined with
clearly Egyptian elements. Greek migrants therefore could focus their veneration on a new
Greco-​Macedonian goddess and at the same time establish a relation to their new homeland
in a foreign country, since the new Greek goddess with her clearly Greco-​Macedonian name
looked Egyptian. As a bonus, this new cult tied their subjects not only to Egypt, but to the
reigning dynasty, now legitimized by the ancient and respectable religion of Egypt.
Since the majority of Ptolemaic subjects were of Egyptian origin, their loyalty was as neces-
sary as the loyalty of the Greeks. These new Greco-​Egyptian goddesses, with their robes and
curled locks, would have looked strange to Egyptians. The crown therefore provided a different
approach that presented the female pharaoh as a typical Egyptian goddess. The introduction
of a ruler cult into the Egyptian temples was highly important, because the temples could be
regarded as an “enorme machine de propagande (enormous propaganda machine).”74 The Egyptian
priests who worked out the Egyptian image of the female pharaoh indeed managed to create a
new Egyptian goddess who had been adapted to the patterns of visual perceptions familiar to
the Egyptians. The temples did their job of winning the hearts and minds of the Egyptians for
the dynasty so well, that, despite all the frictions and insurrections, the Ptolemies had the longest
lasting dynasty in the long history of pharaonic Egypt.

Notes
1 Müller 2009: 70–​84; on Arsinoë II: Carney 2013.
2 For the terminus ante quem: Thiers 2007: 50–​51; Pithom Stele, ll. 15–​16.
3 Convincingly argued by Carney 2013: 77.
4 Theoc. Id. 17.128–​ 34; cf. Kallim. fr. 392 Pf.; Poseid. 114 AB; see also the dedication of the
two statues of Ptolemy and Arsinoë just in front of the Zeus temple of Olympia by the admiral
Kallikrates: Hoepfner 1971.
5 Paus. 1.7.1; on brother–​sister-​marriage as an allegedly common Egyptian practice: Remijsen and
Clarysse 2008.
6 OGI II 725; Fraser 1972: I 217; II 367, n. 228; II 377, n. 311, pace Caneva 2016: 146–​8; list of Arsinoë
Philadelphos dedication in Caneva 2014: Appendix; see also Caneva 2016: 133.
7 Theoc. Id. 17.34–​52, 121–​5; Ath. 5.202d; McKenzie 2007: 51.
8 See the gold coins (mnaieia) presenting both couples on one coin: Olivier and Lorber 2013: 50–​64;
Lorber 2018: 105.
9 Cf. Theok. Id. 17.45–​50; OGI II 725 (altar); Herond. 1.23–​55 (temple); on this cf. Lewis 1986: 10–​11;
Caneva 2016: 163–​76.
10 P.Hib. II 199; cf. Minas 2000: 90–​101; on the eponymous priests of Egypt: IJsewijn 1961; Clarysse and
van der Veken 1983.
11 P.Iand. Zen. 49; Caneva 2016: 154–​5; Minas 2000: 163–​71.

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12 Most recent discussion on the date of her death: Caneva 2016: 135–​41.
13 Van Minnen 2010: 40–​1; Burstein 1982; contrary to Macurdy 1932: 11–​130; Pomeroy 1984: 16–​20.
14 Pithom Stele: Schäfer 2011: 218; on possible political functions of Arsinoë: Carney 2013: 89–​95.
15 OGI I 15; cf. McCredie et al. 1992.
16 On the modeling of her image after her death, see Caneva 2016: 129–​78.
17 Kallimachos: P.Berol. 13417; Caneva 2016: 141–​52.
18 Before 269/​268 BCE: Cadell et al. 2011: 12–​13.
19 Minas 1998; Minas 2000: 93–​6.
20 On cult regulations: P.Oxy. XXVII 2465, fr. 2 (Satyros); Schorn 2001; on the festival Perpillou-​Thomas
1993: 155–​8.
21 Cf. the description of the Ptolemaia festival: Ath. 197c–​203b.
22 Thompson 1973: 71–​5, 117–​22.
23 SB I 601 and 602; Thompson 1973: 57–​9.
24 Cf. Thompson 1973: 30–​1, 93; Albersmeier 2002: 85–​105.
25 Plin. NH 36.14.5, 36.67–​69; McKenzie 2007: 51.
26 Poseid. 116 AB, 5–​6; cf. 119 (ed. Austin and Bastianini); Bing 2002/​3; Hauben 1970; 2013.
27 Poseid. 39 AB, 2; cf. Demetriou 2010; Müller 2009: 215–​16; on Arsinoë in epigrams: Barbantani
2005; 2008.
28 Anastassiades 1998; Schreiber 2011; Tal 2019.
29 Olivier and Lorber 2013; Lorber 2018: 106.
30 On the ideal of luxury cf. Tondriau 1948; Heinen 1983; Müller 2009: 159–​72.
31 P.Tebt. III 879.15; however, this does necessarily imply a Demeter-​association of Arsinoë: Thompson
1998: 702.
32 Strab. 16.4.5; see e.g. Arsinoë’s temple in Arsinoë in Kilikia: SEG 39, 1426, 52–​53.
33 Hazzard 2000: 101–​59; Koenen 1983; on Ptolemaic city foundations generally, see Mueller 2006;
Cohen 2006.
34 Kallim. fr. 181 Asp. (228 Pf.); in Egypt: Quaegebeur 1971: 246; cf. Carney 2013: 98; the priestess
Heresanch of Philotera: Paris, Louvre, Inv. Nr. N.2456, with Albersmeier 2002: 137–​8.
35 The only more elaborate titulary of her is presented on the Mendes stele and is posthumous; Caßor-​
Pfeiffer and Pfeiffer 2019.
36 On her deification see the Mendes Stele: Schäfer 2011: 263. Collombert 2008 discusses the exact date
of the installation of the Egyptian cult for Arsinoë, proposing 266/​265 BCE, that is, five years after
her death.
37 Quaegebeur 1969: 209–​17; Caneva 2016: 158–​62; on her Pharaonic titulature: Hölbl 2003: 91.There is
only one example where Arsinoë II, “the (female) king of Upper and Lower Egypt” is clearly presented
during her lifetime as ritual agent together with her spouse, but this may be posthumous: Albersmeier
and Minas 1998: 7; Quaegebeur 1998: 94, no. 42; in her lifetime: Minas 2005: 134; Nilsson 2012: cat.
no. 15.
38 Hölbl 2003: 90–​1, 95; Leitz 2002: 347; on the identification of the queen with Hathor and Isis in gen-
eral Nagel 2015, 128–​35.
39 On the reliefs: Quaegebeur 1988: 44 and figs. 16, 17; on the crown: 47, fig. 18; Nilsson 2012.
40 Clarysse and Vandorpe 1998.
41 Clayman 2014: 159; more cautiously, Carrez-​Maratray 2014: 242, pointing to Hyg. Poet. Astr. 2.24.2
and Ael. VH 14.43; pace Pomeroy 1984: 23; Caccamo Caltabiano 1998.
42 Call. Aitia, III, fr. 143 Massimilla (= fr. 383 Pf. + SH 254), l. 2; on the title: Parsons 1977.
43 See e.g. IC III, iv 4 = Syll3 463 = http://​phrc.it, PHRC011 (accessed April 30, 2019); I.Hermoupolis
I = SB VIII 9735; on further Greek and Egyptian honours for Berenike: Hazzard 2000: 112–​13.
44 Carrez-​Maratray 2014: 155–​64.
45 Clayman 2014: 168–​71.
46 Poll. Onom. 9.85.
47 Fulinska 2010: 86; Olivier and Lorber 2013; Lorber 2018: 153–​4, 162–​6. Coin legends naming basilissa
Berenike do not imply that she was the issuing authority, but rather designate the coinage as belonging
to her: Lorber 2018: 153 (see also Chapter 8).
48 I.Alex. ptol. 16 and Abd el-​Maksoud et al. 2015: 125–​44, Inv. no. E211,3; Carrez-​Maratray 2014: 129–​45.
49 Minas 2000: 116–​20.
50 Ath. 5.202d.
51 Pfeiffer forthcoming.

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52 Quaegebeur 1978; Hölbl 2003: 91; Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 476.
53 On the title Caßor-​Pfeiffer and Pfeiffer 2019, with a complete philological discussion.
54 Minas 2000: 3–​79.
55 Winter 1978; Minas 2006: 197–​213; Pfeiffer 2008a: 99–​104; Minas-​Nerpel 2013: 150–​7; Preys 2017;
especially on the representation of the queen: Preys 2015: 170–​1.
56 Preys 2015: 150–​4.
57 BE 2013, 472 and 475.
58 OGI I 56,7–​10.
59 Pfeiffer 2004: 243–​9.
60 Pfeiffer 2008a: 24–​30; Pfeiffer 2020.
61 Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015b.
62 On Philensis I: von Recklinghausen 2018.
63 Minas-​Nerpel 2011; on the political power of these Kleopatras see van Minnen 2010.
64 Bielman Sánchez and Lenzo 2015a: 481–​5.
65 Bielman Sánchez 2017.
66 Fraser 1972, I: 221; Minas 2000: 157–​61.
67 Perdu 2000; Martzolff 2009.
68 Bielman Sanchéz and Lenzo 2015a: 476–​7.
69 Troy 1986: 150.
70 Catull. 66.
71 On the so-​called “Libyan” or “corkscrew locks”: Albersmeier 2002: 67–​75.
72 Dunand 1973: 36–​45. See e.g. the seal in London, BM inv. GR 1923.4-​1.676; Galbois 2018: 223,
evaluation: 141–​7.
73 On the dating of the statues Guimier-​Sorbets 2007; Queyrel 2009: 20, n. 54.
74 Preys 2015: 149; cf. Quaegebeur 1989.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

BE 2013 Dubois, L. et al. 2013. “Bulletin épigraphique.” Revue des Études Grecques 126: 421–​613.
C.Ord. Ptol. 67 Lenger, M.-​Th. 1980. Corpus des Ordonnances des Ptolémées. Brussels.
I.Alex. ptol. Bernand, É. 2001. Inscriptions grecques d’Alexandrie ptolémaïque. Cairo.
I.Hermoupolis Bernand, É. 1999. Inscriptions grecques d’Hermoupolis Magna et de sa nécropole. Paris.
I.Prose Bernand, A. 1992. La Prose sur pierre dans l’Égypte hellénistique et romaine. Paris.
P.Berol. 13417 von Wilamowitz-​Moellendorff, U. 1912. “Neues von Kallimachos.” Sitzungsberichte der
Preußischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Philosophisch-​Historische Klasse 12: 524–​44.
P.Hib. II Turner, E.G. and Lenger, M.-​Th. 1955. The Hibeh Papyri II. London.
P.Iand. Zen. Schmitz, P. 2007. Die Giessener Zenonpapyri. Paderborn.
P.Oxy. Turner, E.G. et al. 1962. The Oxyrhynchus Papyri. London.
P.Tebt. I Grenfell, B.P. et al. 1902. The Tebtunis Papyri I. London.
P.Tebt. III Hunt, A.S. and Smyly, J.G. 1933. The Tebtunis Papyri III. London.
SB I Preisigke, F. 1913–​15. Sammelbuch griechischer Urkunden aus Aegypten I. Strassburg and
Berlin.
SB V Bilabel, F. and Kiessling E. 1934–​55. Sammelbuch griechischer Urkunden aus Aegypten V.
Heidelberg and Wiesbaden.
SB VIII 9735 Kießling, E. et al. 1965–​7. Sammelbuch griechischer Urkunden aus Aegypten VIII.
Wiesbaden.
SEG 39  Pleket, H.W. and Stroud, R.S. 1989. Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum XXXIX.
Amsterdam.
UPZ I 106 Wilcken, U. 1927. Urkunden der Ptolemäerzeit (ältere Funde) I: Papyri aus Unterägypten.
Berlin and Leipzig.

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10
PTOLEMAIC WOMEN’S
PATRONAGE OF THE ARTS
Silvia Barbantani

Ptolemaic patronage: gendered strategies of representation1

The Ptolemaic dynasty, especially in its heyday during the third century BCE, considered con-
trol over cultural institutions and patronage of the arts and sciences as a means to showcase
its primacy in protecting and promoting Greek paideia (education), as well as a clever way
to advertise its power among potential rivals and allies. In the cultural project of Ptolemy I,
Alexandria was to become the “New Athens” of the Hellenistic Mediterranean.2 The Museum
and the main Library were an integral part of the royal palace (Strab. 16.1.8), and scholars
were—​logistically and ideologically—​close to the court. Sponsorship of the literary arts was not
confined to Library-​based philology and learned poetry, but was also understood as world-​wide
engagement in funding Panhellenic festivals, which often included poetic performances.3 The
Ptolemies directly sponsored one of the many Hellenistic guilds of technitai (professional poets
and musicians), that of Egypt and Kypros.4 Occasions for performance of poetry also included
the celebrations organized in the public spaces of Alexandria: religious rites (see p. 112), royal
pageants (Kallix. FGrH 627 F 2 = Ath. 5.27, 198b–​c) and local festivals.5 Rulers also promoted
visual artists who could help them to disseminate idealized images of themselves and their
family; collections of pre-​existing works of art were displayed as evidence of their far-​reaching
power.6
Since the first Ptolemaic kings exhibited liberality toward the arts, we may suppose that their
wives (it is in this sense that I use the word “queen” in this chapter) would have shared the same
interest in patronage. The strategies court poets use to represent the same euergetic function in
male and female rulers, however, are quite different.
A common characteristic of the Ptolemaic ruler was to be equally interested in military
and artistic activities; in the Hellenistic royal ideology only a king with a solid military power
was considered able to grant peace and prosperity to his kingdom, and to his artists.7 Ptolemy
II, responsible for the development of the Library and the Museum established by his father,
is defined as φιλόμουσος (Muse-​lover) in Theok. Id. 14.61; the same king in Id. 17 is extolled
as lord of a vast empire. Ptolemy III is saluted by Eratosthenes (CA fr. 35.13–​15) as the one
who has given to his son (Ptolemy IV Philopator) “all that is dear to the Muses and to kings.”8
Ptolemy III and Berenike II are blessed in an anonymous epigram (SH 979.6–​7), because they
raised Ptolemy IV “most excellent in war and arts.” The protection granted by the Muses to

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poets and kings is a well-​established topos (Hes. Theog. 80–​103). The king may be presented
under the guise (or as companion) of Apollon, god of poetry, but this depiction often has belli-
gerent rather than poetry-​oriented overtones (Kall. H. 2.25–​7; H. 4.165–​90).9
What about queens? In court poetry they are never “lovers/​beloved of the Muse;” their status
as patronesses of the arts is advertised with their assimilation to the goddesses of poetry (Muses
or Charites), or, less effectively, with their identification with a goddess close to Apollon (Kyrene
in Kall. H. 2; Leto in Poseid. Ep. 40).10 We have to consider the possibility that the queen’s
depiction as a goddess who traditionally protects and inspires artists could just be a flattering
trope by encomiastic poets, in order to present the consort of the king as participating in her
husband’s cultural policy. Queens successfully represented the euergetic and popular aspects of
the Hellenistic monarchies, often in association with female deities supervising the house and
family life.11 Ptolemaic royal women, however, thanks to their Egyptian and Macedonian cul-
tural backgrounds, enjoyed a special status. The first four Ptolemies were highly literate, and we
may well hypothesize that their consorts were equally cultivated.12 Multi-​layered and refined
court poems addressed to queens were to be enjoyed not only by the fellow scholars of the
Library, but, first and foremost, by the dedicatee herself.
A coherent program of poetic and figurative representations stressed the dynastic and
(sometimes fictitiously) biological continuity between Ptolemaic queens, at least in the first
four royal couples.13 Queens were officially divinized following both the Egyptian and the
Greek ritual, starting from the reign of Ptolemy II.14 Every virtuous couple is presented as the
copy of its predecessors (e.g. the Philadelphoi to the Soteres in Theok. Id. 17.34–​57; Poseid.
Ep. 88). The perfect harmony (homonoia) of the couple is another fundamental element of
royal Ptolemaic ideology. Arsinoë II and Berenike II are depicted as having a particularly close
relationship with their husbands, so that their political, cultural, and diplomatic activities are
in accord with those of their male counterpart, and this may well have included patronage
of the arts. The political concept of Homonoia applied to the couple stresses the legitimacy
and continuity of the recently established dynasty; hence the insistence on the theme of con-
jugal love in Alexandrian poetry and the identification of the queen with Aphrodite. In the
Chremonidean decree (Syll3 434/​5) Homonoia is celebrated not only as a symbol of the alliance
between Egypt and Athens, but also of the perfect accord of hearts and minds of Arsinoë II and
Ptolemy II.15 The cult of the royal couple as a solid unity was actively promoted by any means
(inscriptions, iconography on coins, sculpture) and powerful symbols (e.g. the double cornu-
copia).16 The alleged perfect spiritual agreement of the Adelphoi is advertised by Herodas in
Mimiamb 1.26–​32.17
The perfect harmony between wife and husband in the royal couple is shown by the queen’s
sharing of the second element of the binomial “Muses and war.” Poseid. Ep. 36 represents Arsinoë
II holding a spear, possibly alluding to her involvement in the Chremonidean War,18 or simply
stressing the legitimacy of Alexander’s legacy to the Ptolemaic family. Arsinoë’s identification,
after her death, as Aphrodite Euploia/​Isis and the numerous epigrams celebrating her shrine at
Cape Zephyrion reflect her close relationship with the highest representatives of the army and
navy when she was alive.19 Berenike II’s military, or para-​military, deeds before her wedding
with Ptolemy III have been much discussed (Catull. 66.26; Hyg. Astr. 2.24).20 Kallimachos’ por-
trayal of her as the nymph Kyrene, love interest of Apollon and slayer of a lion, may allude to the
manly deeds of the Kyrenaian queen.21 The presence of royal women (wives and concubines)22
is particularly striking in Poseidippos’ epigrams for equestrian victories (Hippika) in P.Mil.Vogl.
VIII 309.23 The celebration of queen and king together as victorious competitors in Panhellenic
games confirmed the image of perfect internal concordia of the couple. For none of these epinikia,
however, we have evidence of a direct commission from a queen.

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Berenike I
Nothing is known about the relationship between Berenike I and the scholars who started
to flock to the newly founded Alexandria to study under the protection of Ptolemy I Soter.
His heir, the future Ptolemy II Philadelphos, was educated in Kos by some of the best minds
of the century and we can only guess that the royal couple acted in agreement in this case;
both the Euergetai, Ptolemy III and Berenike II are hailed as good educators of their son (SH
979). It is likely that Arsinoë, his sister and, later, wife, had been taught by the same scholars.24
Berenike I only appears in court poetry after her death and apotheosis (Theok. Id. 17.34–​50),
as a symbol of the conjugal love which grants stability and continuity to the dynasty, but, unlike
her successors, she is never compared to a Muse or another goddess of poetry. Although she
may have mostly played the role of wife and mother (Paus. 1.6.8; Plut. Pyrrh. 4.4), Berenike
I is a precursor of Arsinoë II and Berenike (II or Berenike Syra) as a victorious competitor in
Panhellenic games in the epigrams by Poseidippos (Ep. 87–​88). However, in none of the Hippika
celebrating queens does the poet let a woman speak in the first person; Ptolemy II is the per-
sona loquens of Poseid. Ep. 88,25 where he takes pride in the exploits of his mother Berenike
I.26 This is striking, if we compare these with the first epinician epigram for a woman, Kyniska,
daughter of Archidamos II of Sparta: in the epigram (AP 13.16) celebrating her four-​horse
chariot victory (in 396 or 392 BCE), Kyniska, speaking in the first person, boasts of being the
first and only woman to have won an Olympic crown. Poseidippos himself evokes her (Ep.
87) when he states that she is the only queen who could compare to the glory of Berenike I.27
Following Berenike Soter’s example, other Ptolemaic queens appear as victorious in equestrian
competitions: the first group of Poseidippos’ royal Hippika (78–​82) is mainly devoted to another
Berenike, who could be Berenike II, wife of Ptolemy III, or Berenike Phernephoros, daughter
of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë I.28 The competitive Arsinoë II seems to be superior to her mother
in the genealogic climax of Poseid Ep. 78.7–​8, where she obtains three equestrian victories in
just one Olympics.

Arsinoë II and Berenike II

The fact that Arsinoë II was often the subject of contemporary poetry of the highest quality has
led modern scholars to take for granted her direct involvement in promoting the arts,29 and the
same is hypothesized for Berenike II.
Both queens are compared or identified with a goddess of poetry, either a Muse or a Charis.30
The privileged position of the queen as a goddess allowed court poets to play with the mul-
tiple aspects of such deities and of what they represent. A clue to the involvement of Arsinoë
II and Berenike II in poets’ patronage could be the polysemantic key-​word χάρις,31 meaning
both aesthetic “grace” and moral “reward, thanks,” with special reference to the patron–​poet
relationship.32 The Charites frame Kallimachos’ four books of Aitia (Book 1, fr. 3–​7.18 –​epi-
logue, fr. 112). χάρις could also be “sensual beauty and the queens’ power of seduction, features
that occupied a central place in the ideological apparatus of the first Ptolemies.”33 Epithalamic
topoi and celebration of conjugal love are scattered throughout Alexandrian learned poetry cele-
brating the queen.34
Arsinoë II has often been presented by modern historiography as one of the most powerful
and independent female rulers of the Hellenistic period, at least in the last years of her life,
when, after complicated marriages and escapes, she settled down in Egypt after marrying her
full brother, Ptolemy II, who chose her over his previous wife, Arsinoë I. 35 Known as the

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Philadelphoi, together they created one of the most effective propaganda machines in the
Hellenistic world, involving any form of visual representation and the most refined docta poesis.
In representing Arsinoë, Alexandrian court poets followed a cultural project already devised
by Ptolemy II’s divinization of his parents. In some cases, court poets depicted an unthreat-
ening image of the queen,36 as in the case of Arete’s “soft power” in Apollonios’ Argonautika,
but, as we have seen above (p. 109), in other cases Arsinoë is presented as a New Alexander or
armed goddess, being the perfect female paredros (“companion”) of her husband-​brother in war
and in peace. Allusions to Arsinoë II Philadelphos have been spotted or hypothesized in many
poems. All of this, again, attests the importance of the queen in the public representation of the
royal couple, but does not absolutely prove her direct involvement in choosing the topic of the
poems or the way artists should depict her. Her close links with powerful admirals, however,
may suggest that she herself had expressed a preference for some themes (e.g. identification with
Isis/​Aphrodite Euploia) which were elaborated by poets after her death.
Arsinoë’s role as a patroness of poets has been detected in an anonymous short poem in ele-
giacs (SH 961). The verses have been preserved by a fragmentary papyrus of the third century
BCE and seem to deal with a nuptial rite, most probably the royal wedding of the Philadelphoi.37
The name of Arsinoë is readable at l. 13 and has been supplied at l. 2: she is associated with
Hera (l. 7), in tune with the celebratory assimilation of the marriage of Arsinoë II and Ptolemy
II with the union of the divine siblings Zeus and Hera (cf. Theokr. Id. 17.131–​4).38 The elegy
is tentatively attributed to Poseidippos (Ep. 114), since on the verso of the papyrus sheet there
a list of authors including his name, and the title σύμμεικτα ἐπιγράμματα, “mixed epigrams.”39
Kallimachos may have actually composed a wedding song for Arsinoë Philadelphos, of
which the incipit survives (fr. 392).40 Scholars have tried to spot her presence in his main poem,
the Aitia. Unfortunately we have only fragmentary material, with an uncertain chronology of
the various parts of the poem. Since the third and fourth books of the Aitia are framed by two
encomiastic poems to Berenike II, the second patroness of Kallimachos, one may also expect
to find Arsinoë II presented (overtly or in allusion) in a similar, prominent position, in the first
two books. Just after the Prologue to the Telchines (fr. 1), the poem starts with the “Dream” (fr. 2),
framing the first two books of the Aitia as a dialogue between Kallimachos and the Muses on
Helikon. Of this section, a few words survive thanks to papyrus commentaries. A lemma of a
scholion preserves the term “δεκ̣ά̣ς” (P.Lond.Lit. 181.42 col. II). Most scholars would see this
word as referring to the group of the nine Muses enhanced with one more element, the queen;
at ll. 44–​7 the same commentary mentions “Arsinoë” as “Tenth Muse.” The scholiast of another
papyrus (P.Oxy. 2262, fr. 2a.10–​15),41 suggests different possibilities: either the tenth member
of the “decade” is Zeus, or Apollon “Musagetes” (leader of the Muses), or Arsinoë, because
she is “honored with the honors of the Muses” and “a statue of her is erected with them in
the Mouseion.” Since it is not specified which one of the various “temples of the Muses” hosts
the statue of Arsinoë in a group of the Nine Muses, scholars have suggested identifying this
statue with the bronze one seen by Pausanias (Paus. 9.31.1) in the sanctuary of the Muses on
mount Helikon, representing the queen on an ostrich.42 I rather suspect that the scholia here
preserve memory of a statuary group (either in the Museum of Alexandria or elsewhere) like
the one described by the epigram SH 978, a nymphaeum adorned with statues, with one of
Arsinoë standing at the center. Similar groups were common in Hellenistic Egypt, and were an
integral part of Ptolemaic royal ideology.43 It is almost certain that Kallimachos did not mention
Arsinoë explicitly in these verses; however, even alluding to her in a key passage was not a casual
choice. The protection of this queen is presented as just as divine as that granted by the Muses
to the poet since his childhood (Kall. Ep. 35).44

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With the “decade,” we are in the presence of a familiar encomiastic strategy, that is, the inclu-
sion of the dedicatee in an established, famous group.45 The same encomiastic device is used by
Kallimachos for praising queen Berenike II as fourth among the Graces in Ep. 51 (AP 5,146).
The inclusion in the group of the Muses was also granted to Sappho, as the most prominent
female poet of antiquity, in an anonymous epigram, AP 9,571 (first century BCE).46 Recent
studies have underlined the complex web of references to the Lesbian poetess in Kallimachos’
poems for queens and other court poetry; a strategic reason for this could be the political con-
trol over Lesbos exercised by the Ptolemies in the third century BCE.47
It is likely that, in a ring-​composition, Arsinoë II was recalled in the Epilogue of the Aitia
(fr. 112,2, P.Oxy. 1011,1–​2).48 The lacunae of the papyrus make the interpretation challenging,
however it is clear that Kallimachos is closing his poem in the name of “his” Muse (Kalliope?
The queen, Arsinoë or Berenike?) and of the Graces. The word (μο̣ιαδ̣’) before “queen,” in
genitive, ἀνά̣σ̣σ̣ης, is corrupt; if we accept the correction μαῖα, the “nurse” of the queen could
be Aphrodite, Kalliope, or, if the “queen” is Berenike II, her nurse is her home town Kyrene, or
even Arsinoë II divinized as Aphrodite, since she adopted Berenike II.
Arsinoë II subsidized various cults and the poetic expression which usually accompanied
them. Theok. Id. 15 shows the queen through the eyes of two Syracusan ladies living in
Alexandria. They enthusiastically take part in the yearly festival in honor of Adonis, sponsored
by Arsinoë (ll. 23–​4) and involving rites both in the streets and at the royal palace. Arsinoë II
is presented at l. 110 as the daughter of the divinized Berenike I (cf. Id. 17).49 The queen has
chosen a very special singer, an Argive virtuosa50 to perform a lyric dirge for Adonis, also cele-
brating Aphrodite (ll. 100–​44).51 Theokritos is paying a double compliment to Arsinoë II: once,
by reporting the song, whose content is encomiastic toward the queen (it is linked to the apothe-
osis of her mother Berenike I),52 and secondly, by stressing, through the opinion of Gorgo, the
quality of the song and therefore the care taken by the queen in hiring the best singer on the
market, for the entertainment of the Alexandrian people and to the glory of the god Adonis.
One may expect this kind of showcase-​performances to be frequent in festivals and religious
rites sponsored by the court and attracting audiences not only from Alexandria, but from all
over the Greek-​speaking world: an exceptional singer would have advertised the role of the
Ptolemies as patrons of the arts as much as Kallimachos, Theokritos, and Poseidippos’ erudite
poems, and with a more immediate effect.
Burton has written extensively about the “countercultural” nature of the original Adonia,
which partially survives in this Alexandrian version;53 this, however, has been tamed and adapted
into a civic festivity showcasing the generosity of the royal house: the hymn focuses on luxury
ornaments, which is perfectly in tune with the tryphe (“softness,” “magnificence”) Ptolemy II
exhibited in the Great Pageant and in the Pavilion described by Kallixeinos; once again, Arsinoë
II is appears to be ideologically in harmony with her brother-​husband. The festival, according
to Carney:

enabled the queen to provide entertainment and demonstrate the wealth and culture
of her family while at the same time she made the court somewhat accessible to her
subjects, though Arsinoë was too elevated, like Aphrodite herself, to appear in person.
(Carney 2013: 101)

The lyric piece recreated by Theokritos is an example of “learned poetry” and not a form of
“popular” entertainment; however Idyll 15 as a whole shows how patronage of the arts was not
only confined to the Museum and Library, but could be extended to theatrical and musical
representations in other parts of the city.

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As for the relationship with the poetae docti, was the patronage of the queen only directed
to the production of new encomiastic poems in her honor, or was it also extended to the
scholarly work conducted by the same poets-​philologists on ancient Greek poetry in the
Museum? Arsinoë II could have been interested in ancient lyric poetry as well as in its con-
temporary revisitations. Poseid. Ep. 37, a poem on a lyre, suggests a connection between the
artistic patronage of ancient rulers (Periandros) and that of modern ones.54 The epigram, which
is defaced by many lacunae of the papyrus,55 is apparently a dedicatory piece, like many which
were produced for ex-​votos in the shrine of Arsinoë-​Aphrodite Zephyritis. It may be inferred
from the extant verses that a lyre has been carried by a dolphin “Arionios” (“lover of song,”
like the one who saved the poet Arion?) to the shores of Egypt. By evoking the instrument of
an ancient lyric poet, Poseidippos may also imply that the queen, now deceased, was not only a
patroness of contemporary poets,56 but also a keen listener/​reader of lyric poetry of the past: she
was a Kallimachean “learned Muse,” fostering the conservation and study of the Hellenic poetic
tradition.57
As for Berenike II, she must have been very close to her fellow Kyrenean Kallimachos,
though this is just an inference from the elaborate poems he dedicated to her. An elegy now
fragmentary, fr. 387–​8, possibly focuses on “heroic deeds” before the wedding. The Victoria
Berenices58 opens the third book of the Aitia, while the Coma (fr. 110; Catull. 66), which was also
circulating as an independent poem, ends the fourth book of the Aitia. Kallimachos implicitly
dedicates the two books to the queen by making Berenike the beginning and the end of the
second section of the Aitia. In the absence of any direct sources, we can only surmise that the
poem was somehow “commissioned” by the queen: possibly Berenike II wanted to celebrate
the successful outcome of a dangerous period (the absence of her newlywed husband in the
Third Syrian War, her role as regent in wartime as a young queen from another city, and with
no heir yet) with a poem that underlined her close links to her predecessor, Arsinoë-​Aphrodite,
and focused on the political value of conjugal love.

Arsinoë III
To the Philadelphoi couple, represented in perpetual agreement, can be compared the
Philopatores (“father-​loving”) couple, depicted in a contemporary source (Eratosth. ap. Ath.
7.276a–​c)59 as made up of incompatible characters: Ptolemy IV, extravagant and whimsical in his
cult of Dionysos, and Arsinoë III, showing resigned disapproval. Although Arsinoë III followed
in the footsteps of her predecessors, Arsinoë II and Berenike II, in sharing a “military moment”
with the king, Ptolemy IV (Polyb. 5.83; 3 Maccab. 1.1),60 she seems to have been sidelined pol-
itically by her husband and had to face the deadly hostility of powerful courtiers (Polyb. 15.25).
Arsinoë III was not celebrated in court poetry as frequently as her two predecessors, but the
loss of most of the literary production of this period limits the significance of this omission.
Eratosthenes, chief Librarian during her reign, published a work titled Arsinoë, probably a biog-
raphy, of which only an anecdote survives.61 Damagetos (AP 6.277) celebrates Arsinoë’s dedica-
tion of a lock as a parthenos, assimilating the princess to Berenike II.62
This disappointing picture, however, changes if we turn to epigraphic and figurative
documents. Ptolemy IV and Arsinoë III appear together as financial sponsors of the Museia
at Thespiai, a Boeotian festival in honor of the Muses, on Mount Helikon. Around 220 BCE,
these poetic competitions and athletic games were promoted to quinquennial status, like the
major Greek festivals:63 the Thespians engaged in an intense diplomatic discourse with contem-
porary kings in order to obtain donations and acknowledgment of these games as Panhellenic
(stephanitai, that is “with a crown given as a prize”). Inscriptions show that in fact they received

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financial contributions from various rulers, including Ptolemy IV and Arsinoë III.64 The interest
of a queen, probably Arsinoë, in the stephanitai games, is mentioned in a damaged decree of the
city of Thespiai (I.Thesp. IV 155. l. 11).65 In an epigraphic letter (I.Thesp. IV 152),66 a “sister”
of a king (Arsinoë III) seems to deal with penteteric games involving auletes and dramatic poets;
another inscription dating to 210–​203 BCE (I.Thesp. II 62)67 records a donation of a Ptolemy
and an Arsinoë.68
Tightening the relations between the Museum of Alexandria and the ancient temenos of the
Muses in Boeotia69 was a “return to the origins” with an extraordinary propagandist strength.
A clue to the close relationship between Ptolemaic Alexandria and the Thespian sanctuary is
the bronze statue of an “Arsinoë” placed on Helikon (as mentioned earlier). Although it could
be identified with Arsinoë Philadelphos, the diplomatic exchange between the Philopatores
and the Thespians documented above (p. 113) suggests that we cannot rule out Arsinoë III.
Her link to the renovation of the contests is evident from her portrait appearing on a series
of bronze coins from Thespiai, probably minted between 210 and 208 BCE;70 on the reverse
a crowned lyre alludes to the promotion of the local poetic competitions to stephanite status.
A further testimony of the Ptolemaic sponsorship of the Museia could be a papyrus (SH 959)71
that preserves fragments of a poem in elegiac couplets dealing with Boeotian myths/​cults. The
name of Arsinoë, at l. 4, evokes the close cultural and political relationship between Egypt and
Boeotia during the reign of the Philopatores. At l. 13, a poet declares “I competed among the
inhabitants of Thespiai.” At l. 16 the Graces, χάριτεϛ, are mentioned.
Arsinoë III shared with her husband the responsibility for the completion of a temple of
Homer (Ael. V.H. 13.22), the legendary co-​founder of Alexandria (Plut. Alex. 26.5), and a
symbol of the Greek culture preserved by the Ptolemies in the Library. Although the queen
is not mentioned in the epigram on the dedication of this shrine (SH 97972 celebrates only
Ptolemy), she is presented in a key role in the relief of Archelaos of Priene showing Homer’s
apotheosis.The relief shows a complex allegorical scene where a poet73 is celebrated by Apollon
and the Muses, while Arsinoë III, as the personification of Oikumene (the inhabited Earth),
bestows a crown on him, assisted by Ptolemy IV as “Chronos.”74

Conclusion
While patronage of artists and management of the Library and the Museum is usually attributed
to Ptolemaic kings, evidence for Ptolemaic queens’ patronage of poetry is scarce, and it can only
be inferred from the poems celebrating them. However, in the relief celebrating the triumph
of Homer and the dissemination of his poetry throughout the world, Arsinoë III takes a pre-​
eminent position over Ptolemy IV (also materially, since her figure is in higher relief than that of
the king), a very gratifying and powerful representation for a queen otherwise underestimated
as poets’ patroness. After her death in 204 BCE, Egypt would face the beginning of a dra-
matic period of internal and external conflicts. The golden age of Ptolemaic queens and kings’
patronage was ended.

Notes
1 Fragments of Kallimachos are always quoted from Pfeiffer, R. 1949–​53. Callimachus I-​II. Oxford;
epigrams by Poseidippos are following the numbers of Austin and Bastianini’s edition: Austin, C. and
Bastianini, G. 2002. Posidippi Pellaei quae supersunt omnia. Milan.
2 Maehler 2004.
3 On court patronage see Weber 1993; Cameron 1995; Barbantani 2001: 32–​ 49; Murray 2008;
Strootman 2017.

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4 On the Technitai of Egypt and Cyprus see Le Guen 2001, I: 293–​300, II: 34–​6, 89–​90; Aneziri
2003: 109–​19. On Ptolemaic-​sponsored poetry and professional poets see Barbantani 2017a; Barbantani
2018b. Cyprus was a thriving site for Ptolemaic ruler-​cult, especially that of queens. See Barbantani
2005; Barbantani 2008; Meliadò 2008; on the main town, Paphos, under the Ptolemies, see inscriptions
nos 4–​97 in Cayla 2018.
5 Remijsen 2014: 352–​4.
6 On the epigrams by Poseidippos on statuary and precious stones see Prioux 2007; Petrovic 2014.
7 On the relationship between literary paideia and military power see Agosti 1997; Barbantani 2001:
53–​5; Barbantani 2018a.
8 On the poem see Leventhal 2017; Berrey 2017: 136–​7.
9 Barbantani 2011: 190–​200; Barbantani 2001: 188–​203.
10 See Stephens 2004: 176.
11 Savalli Lestrade 1994: 415–​32, 424–​6; Bielman Sánchez 2003.
12 According to Pomeroy 1977, Macedonian royal women were usually well educated, likewise probably
the Ptolemaic queens. See Pomeroy 1984; Alonso Troncoso 2005a: 101; Alonso Troncoso 2005b.
13 See Barbantani 2008: 133–​4; Müller 2009; Prioux 2011: 206. The incipit of the Victoria Berenices (SH
254.2) salutes the queen as “sacred blood of the Sibling gods:” she is a newlywed wife (νύμφα) of a
king (Ptolemy III; their conjugal love is the focus of Coma Berenices, fr. 110), and adopted as a daughter
by the Philadelphoi as part of the policy of unity and continuity inside the dynasty.
14 The apotheosis of Arsinoë II was celebrated by Kallimachos in a poem (fr. 228); see Acosta-​
Hughes 2010: 68–​9; Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012: 108–​10; Acosta-​Hughes 2019; Barbantani
2017a: 359.
15 See Barbantani 2005: 111–​14. In the Decree is underlined the fact that Ptolemy II follows the example
of his progonoi (Ptolemy I Soter and Berenike I); the name of the deceased Arsinoë II is added to mark
the parallelism between the two royal couples.
16 Müller 2009; Barbantani 2007: 122–​3.
17 Burton 1995: 152–​3.
18 See Stephens 2004: 163–​70; Fantuzzi and Hunter 2005: 379–​91, 383; Barbantani 2007: 114–​19;
Barbantani 2008: 73; Barbantani 2010: 231–​6; Müller 2009: 216–​29; Prioux 2011: 210–​11.
19 For Arsinoë “mistress of the Sea” and on the epigrams for the shrine of Canopus see Stephens 2004;
Barbantani 2005; Barbantani 2007; Barbantani 2008. Poseidippos’ program in the Anatematikà section
of the Milan papyrus is underlined by Stephens 2004: 176: “They portray Arsinoë as a queen, goddess,
and patron of the arts, as the successor of Alexander on the one hand and as an instrument of succor
and mercy on the other.”
20 On the poem see Acosta-​Hughes 2010, ch. 2.1.1; Prioux 2011: 211.
21 H. 2.91–​2. See Prioux 2011: 211; Barbantani 2011: 179–​80. Equestrian victories of Berenike II are
celebrated by Kallimachos in Aet. III (see note 60) and by Poseidippos.
22 Concubines, like Bilistiche, were also celebrated for agonistic triumphs. See Cameron 1990; Cameron
1995: 243–​6; Kosmetatou 2004b; Criscuolo 2003: 319–​20. Burton 1995: 147 reads the sponsorship
of the Adonia by Arsinoë II as a “part of an ongoing dialogue with a Ptolemy notoriously ‘erotikos’
(amorous), as Theokritos remarks in Idyll 14 (61).”
23 On the Hippikà for queens see Cameron 1995: 239–​46; Criscuolo 2003; Stephens 2004; Kosmetatou
2004a; Fantuzzi 2005; van Bremen 2007; Köhnken 2007; Barbantani 2012: 43–​ 9; Kainz 2016;
Barbantani 2017a: 346–​53.
24 Zenon, Philitas, Strato of Lampsakos. Strato stated that he educated a princess (Diog. Laert. 5.4), pos-
sibly Arsinoë; Suda s.v. Ζηνόδοτος uses the plural: τοὺς παῖδας.
25 For the “family group” monuments that may have inspired this poem see Kosmetatou 2004a.
26 The same family trio is presented by Theok. Id. 17.34–​52, 56–​60 as a model of continuity in virtues
and victories.
27 On the epigram, see Fantuzzi 2005: 253–​4, 258–​64; van Bremen 2007: 360–​4, 368–​72; Barbantani
2010: 48–​9; Barbantani 2012: 46–​9 (on “Doric” and Ptolemaic ladies competing in equestian races).
28 Thompson 2005; Criscuolo 2003.
29 Bertazzoli 2002; Stephens 2004: 173–​6.
30 The divinized sister of Arsinoë II, Philotera, interacts with Charis in Kall. fr. 228.
31 So Prioux 2011: 209–​10.
32 See Gutzwiller 1983, esp. on Theok. Idyll 16.
33 Quote from Prioux 2007: 209. Cf. Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 69–​71.

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34 Barbantani 2008; Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 63–​81 (cf. also 158–​60) analyzes Kallimachos Coma and Victoria
Berenices (opening and closing Aitia books 3–​4) in this light.
35 Burton 1995: 151. Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II were full brother and sister (hence the epithet “Brother-​
loving,” Philadelphoi). See also Chapter 29 in this volume.
36 So Carney 2013: 102, 105.
37 On SH 961 see Barbantani 2001: 57–​63; Barbantani 2017a: 354–​8; Werner 2014: 98–​109.
38 On the treatment of the sensitive issue by poets see Cameron 1995: 18–​22; Burton 1995: 153; Prioux
2011: 204–​5.
39 Lasserre 1959 considered the nuptial elegy as sort of “preface” of an epigrammatic anthology offered
to Arsinoë as a wedding gift.
40 Weber 1993: 260–​1; Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012: 128–​9.
41 On this papyrus see Natalucci 2001; Cameron 1995: 141–​3; Bertazzoli 2002: 145–​6.
42 Pausanias specifies that this was the Arsinoë whom “Ptolemy married although he was her brother.”
Cameron 1995: 140–​1 suggests that Arsinoë Philadelphos had already funded the games Museia. For
the analysis of the statue see Prioux and Trinquier 2015: 33–​56. Barbantani 2000: 154–​5 identifies the
queen with Arsinoë III.
43 Lauer and Picard 1955; Barbantani 2017b: 99–​101.
44 On the epigram see Barbantani 2018a: 288–​91. According to Ambühl 1995, in the Prologue of the Aitia
Arsinoë II appeared as endorsing, as a Muse, the revolutionary Kallimachean poetics against the singing
of “kings and heroes.”
45 See Barbantani 2018a: 303–​4.
46 Barbantani 1993: 284–​7; Barbantani 2000: 154–​5; Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 16.
47 Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 74–​5; Bing 2005: 123–​30; Brun 1991.
48 See Barigazzi 1961; Knox 1985; Knox 1993; Cameron 1995: 112–​13, 139–​45.
49 Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 37; Burton 1995: 148–​52. Berenike I now is synnaos of the goddess lover
of Adonis, Aphrodite. When Arsinoë II died, she was divinized as Aphrodite, and so she appears in
Kallimachos’ Coma Berenices (fr. 110) and in the epigrams on the shrine of Cape Zephyrion. On the
role of Aphrodite in Idyll 15 and 17 see Burton 1995: 134–​5.
50 On the political reason for chosing an Argive performer see Burton 1995: 146.
51 See Barbantani 2017b: 117–​19; Prioux 2013, 139–​42; Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012: 88; Burton
1995: 136–​46, esp. 136–​7.
52 Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 71–​2.
53 Burton 1995: 135–​7, 147.
54 Stephens 2004: 173–​5: “[Arsinoë] is imaginatively positioned as the successor of earlier artistic patrons.”
An elaborate discourse on ancient and new patronage in Theok. Id. 16 involves only male patrons.
55 On the philological problems of this epigram see Barbantani 2008: 132–​4; Bettarini 2003; Angiò 2004;
Stephens 2004.
56 On the implications of this epigram about the queen’s artistic patronage see Bertazzoli 2002: 150–​3;
Acosta-​Hughes 2010: 1–​3.
57 Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012: 2.
58 SH 254-​268C, fr. 54–​60, 383, 176–​7, 677, 597. See Fantuzzi/​Hunter 2005: 30, 83–​5; Acosta-​Hughes
and Stephens 2012: 127–​30; Barbantani 2012: 40–​1.
59 On Eratosthenes’ Arsinoë see Berrey 2017: 40–​1; Geus 2002: 61–​8; Kosmin 2017: 86.
60 Thompson 1973: 26, tav. 38, fig. 109 (cf. 97–​9, fig. 112) identifies her in the queen armed with a spear
on an oinochoe. See also Barbantani 2000: 138, n. 39.
61 See n. 59.
62 Nachtergael 1980.
63 On the documents attesting Ptolemaic donations to the temenos of the Muses see Barbantani 2000: 142–​
55; Prioux and Trinquier 2015: 32. On the evolution of the Boeotic poetic competitions see Schachter
2016; Manieri 2009: 313–​433; Barbantani 2000: 135–​6, 145–​58.
64 On Boeotian diplomats and dignitaries at the court of Alexandria see Barbantani 2000: 157–​8.
65 Feyel 1942: 101–​2; Manieri 2009: 367–​8.
66 Feyel 1942: 105, nr. 5, iscr. B–​C. Savalli Lestrade 1994: 430; Manieri 2009: 370–​3.
67 Feyel 1942: 245–​6; Barbantani 2000: 151.
68 On the identity of the Ptolemaic couple, see Barbantani 2000: 151–​2. Inscriptions also show that
Ptolemy IV and Arsinoë III subsidized other Boeotian sanctuaries, see Manieri 2009: 231; Barbantani
2000: 155–​6.

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69 On the mouseia around the Greek world see Caruso 2016.

70 See Barbantani 2000: 155, 169.
71 For a thorough discussion of the text see Barbantani 2000.
72 The epigram is preserved by a papyrus, together with another (SH 978) describing a nymphaion adorned
with statues, including one of Arsinoë. On the Homereion see Barbantani 2001: 53–​5; Petrovic 2017.
73 On the identification of the dedicant see also Pinkwart 1965: 83–​9 (a choregus); Preuner 1920
(Hesiod); Cameron 1995: 273–​7 (Kallimachos). On the relief see Newby 2007; Barbantani 2000: 134–​
5; Butz 2017.
74 Not every scholar agrees in recognizing the Philopatores in those figures. Butz 2017 (see her article
for a status quaestionis), on the basis of a comparison with bronze portaits of the queen, supports the
identification with Arsinoë III.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

AP Anthologia Palatina
CA Powell, J.U. (ed.) 1925. Collectanea Alexandrina. Oxford.
I.Tesp Roesch, P. (ed.) 2009. Les Inscriptions de Thespies. Lyon.
SH Lloyd-​Jones, H. and Parsons, P. (eds.) 1983. Supplementum Hellenisticum. Berlin.

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11
THE KLEOPATRA PROBLEM
Roman sources and a female Ptolemaic ruler

Christoph Schäfer

Introduction
Kleopatra VII was born in December 70 or January 69 BCE.1 Her father, Ptolemy XII, in
keeping with a Ptolemaic practice, had been married to his sister Kleopatra VI Tryphaina since
as early as 80/​79 BCE. This apparently did not prevent him from marrying another woman.
Polygamy was no rarity in the social environment of the Hellenistic courts. However, the dis-
appearance of Kleopatra VI from the dating conventions used in Ptolemaic papyri between
August 69 BCE and February 68 BCE, which was around the time of the birth of Kleopatra
VII, is noteworthy.2
Kleopatra’s mother was most probably an Egyptian from the family of the high priests of
Memphis, the old Egyptian royal city.3 This would account for her extraordinary knowledge of
languages; according to Plutarch:

her tongue like an instrument of many strings, she could readily turn to whatever lan-
guage she pleased, so that in her interviews with Barbarians she very seldom had need
of an interpreter, but made her replies to most of them herself and unassisted, whether
they were Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabians, Syrians, Medes or Parthians.
Nay, it is said that she knew the speech of many other peoples also, although the kings
of Egypt before her had not even made an effort to learn the native language, and
some actually gave up their Macedonian dialect.
(Plut. Ant. 27.4–​5 )4

We may presume that Kleopatra would not have had much trouble learning the Egyptian
language: she was probably raised bilingually.
Three younger siblings of Kleopatra were born over the next few years: Arsinoë, Ptolemy
XIII, and Ptolemy XIV. There did not seem to have been any serious problems with regard to
the recognition of the children as legitimate descendants of the ruler and thus also with regard
to a possible dynastic succession. After all, her father Ptolemy XII was himself likely born of
an Egyptian mother.5 Our sources, largely written from the perspective of her subsequent foe
Octavian, are silent on the subject of her childhood.The various omens and anecdotes pointing
to her later queenship that are typical for Hellenistic biography are missing from our accounts.

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Ptolemy XII gave his children the title of Theoi Neoi Philadelphoi, “the new sibling-​loving
gods,” certainly with a view to the succession.6 Since his eldest son was still a child, he decided
that his daughter Kleopatra was to marry him and rule jointly with him.7 Shortly before her
father’s death, Kleopatra was promoted to co-​regent.8 Ptolemy XII Auletes likely died of natural
causes in February of 51 BCE.9 A council of three courtiers (the eunuch Potheinos, the general
Achillas, and Theodotos, the Chian teacher of the kings) assumed guardianship for Kleopatra’s
brother-​husband, little Ptolemy XIII.10 A power struggle between this faction and Kleopatra
was thus almost preordained.
On March 22, 51 BCE, Kleopatra appeared personally at cultic ceremonies in Hermonthis
near Thebes. Notably, a stele describing the enthronement of the sacred bull Buchis, is dated
to the regal year 1 of an unspecified king and a female ruler with the cult title “Goddess
Philopator.”11 In autumn of the next year, after about one and a half years of sole rule, the queen
lost the supremacy she had claimed. In a royal decree of October 27 of the same year, the young
Ptolemy is listed as primary agent, with his sister-​queen relegated to the second rank.12 In the
course of the summer of 49 she was finally pushed out of power: Potheinos and his allies had
won for now. Kleopatra settled in the Thebais in Upper Egypt, where she was apparently quite
popular and from where she intended to continue the fight for power.When her position there
also proved precarious, she left Egypt for Syria. In Palestine, for example in the port city of
Askalon, where coins were struck with her diadem-​crowned portrait, she recruited mercenaries
to attack her brother’s army.13
Both royal army and king took up a position at Pelusion to prevent her from crossing into
Egypt with an armed force.14 While a battle seemed inevitable, an uninvited and highly dan-
gerous guest arrived on the doorstep: Pompeius Magnus. After his defeat at Pharsalos, Pompeius
had hurried to Egypt, where he hoped for support. Fearing involvement in the Roman civil
wars, however, the state council, under Potheinos’ leadership, decided to have Pompeius
assassinated.15 Kleopatra was fortunate to have been uninvolved in this rash decision. Everything
now depended on Caesar, the new strong man in the Greek East. How would he react to these
events and to the complicated situation in Egypt? He arrived in Alexandria on October 1, 48
(July 27, according to the Julian calendar),16 only two days after the murder of Pompeius, with
3,200 men and 800 cavalry. There, he was presented with Pompeius’ seal and severed head.
Caesar publicly showed his dismay at the cruel death of his adversary and vehemently distanced
himself from the atrocity committed in the name of the king.17

Kleopatra and Caesar

As Caesar went ashore, his lictors (civil servants who accompanied and guarded Roman
magistrates) preceded him, underlining his authority as Roman consul. This provoked
Alexandrine resistance. Though cooler tempers prevailed, the situation remained explosive.18
Caesar now summoned both Ptolemy XIII and Kleopatra to his presence, called on them to
dismiss their armies, and to let Rome arbitrate their dispute.19 Ptolemy was the first to obey. He
moved into the royal palace with his entourage, but kept his army ready, under the command of
Achillas near Pelusion.20 Kleopatra arrived soon thereafter. Plutarch claims that Apollodoros of
Sicily smuggled her into the palace in a bag containing bedlinen.21 Lucan, more soberly, reports
that Kleopatra bribed a guard and landed at the Macedonian palace in a small boat, unnoticed
by Caesar. Admittedly, Lucan then also indulges in the literary motifs of eroticism and seduc-
tion.22 The pair must actually have soon begun an affair, though their political relationship seems
absolutely rational. Kleopatra was far more dependent on the support of Caesar than vice-​versa,
but he too needed her help if he wanted to control Egypt in the future. He had little trust in

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the advisors of Ptolemy XIII and the murderers of Pompeius. At the end of October, about four
weeks after his arrival, Caesar confirmed the last will of Ptolemy XII in a people’s assembly,
in the presence of Kleopatra and her brother, with the provision that both should be married
according to Egyptian custom and rule together, but that the Roman people should assume
guardianship over both. As dictator, Caesar intended to oversee his decision being put into prac-
tice. By this expedient, he only briefly calmed the situation.
Conflict soon broke out again; what has become known as the Alexandrian War ensued.23
After a months-​long siege of the royal palace, the long-​awaited relief army under the command
of Mithradates of Pergamon appeared before Pelusion in the first days of March 47 BCE and
defeated the garrison there, in a combined land and sea operation. Caesar was now able to unite
his troops with this army.The decisive battle then took place on the canopic branch of the Nile.
Ptolemy XIII was defeated and, while on the run, drowned in the Nile.24 With the defeat of the
main army and the death of the king, resistance broke and Caesar accepted the capitulation on
March 27 (January 15, according to the Julian calendar), a date that was commemorated in the
Roman fasti calendar.25
Caesar now sought to secure the restoration of Kleopatra with all means at his disposal. He
married her to her second, even younger brother, the 11-​or 12-​year-​old Ptolemy XIV, and
presented the new royal couple to the Egyptians as “sibling-​loving” rulers (Theoi Adelphoi).
However, Cassius Dio notes that Kleopatra was the de facto sole ruler and spent her days with
Caesar.26
After the installation of Kleopatra and her wedding, Caesar had time to tackle other pressing
problems that required action beyond Egypt. He left Alexandria for Asia Minor on April 10, 47
BCE. Since the enthronement of the new ruling couple must have happened between his vic-
tory over Ptolemy XIII on March 27 and his departure in April, the prolonged Nile cruise of
Kleopatra and Caesar, recounted by Suetonius and Appian,27 cannot have taken place.28
By the time Caesar left Egypt, Kleopatra was pregnant and soon afterwards gave birth to a
son whom the Alexandrians called Kaisarion (Plut. Caes. 49.10), but whose correct name was
Ptolemy Caesar (Ptolemaios o kai Kaisar). The very name is an early indication for a shared pol-
itical program never to be implemented because of Caesar’s murder. Though Caesar’s paternity
has been doubted, it is now considered fairly certain.29

In Rome
After he had defeated both the Bosporan king Pharnakes in Asia Minor and the remaining
republicans in Africa, Caesar returned to Rome on July 25, 46. He entered the city in a quad-
ruple triumph, parading captives in the procession that included the Gaul Vercingetorix, the
Numidian prince Iuba, as well as Kleopatra’s captive sister Arsinoë.30
Soon afterwards, Kleopatra herself arrived in Rome. Caesar must have agreed to her arrival.
It may even be that he had invited her, as Suetonius claims.31 Her arrival had the character of
a state visit. A treaty of alliance and friendship was to be concluded to secure her position in
the same way as with her father. Although extant sources do not expressly mention this, we can
safely assume that she brought her son with her, perhaps to introduce him to his father, perhaps
also to remind the Roman public that Caesar, despite the early death of his daughter Julia, was
not without descendants (and one of royal blood, to boot).
Kleopatra could expect a reception appropriate to her position, for Caesar’s long stay in the
Alexandrian royal palace meant that she had a hospitium relationship, allowing her, at a pinch, to
insist on the obligation of hospitality. Although this will hardly have been necessary, it was useful
in justifying her luxurious accommodation on Caesar’s estates beyond the Tiber to the Roman

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populace.32 Although Caesar officially cohabitated with his wife Calpurnia, Kleopatra could
already feel like the woman at his side.The way in which he demonstrated his relationship with
her in the Roman public sphere left little to be desired in terms of clarity.
Because of the ongoing war against the republican remnant in Spain, Caesar left Kleopatra
alone in Rome for almost a year, which does not seem to have put her in a difficult position.33
On the contrary, she ran an open house, the high society of the city meeting at her banquets
and feasts. True to the traditions of Hellenistic rulers, artists and philosophers appeared at her
receptions. The famous singer and musician M. Tigellius Hermogenes belonged to Caesar’s
circle, and we also know that the philosopher Philostratos entertained guests with examples of
his oratory and instigated philosophical discussions in which the queen herself took part with
alacrity, thus demonstrating to her guests not only the capabilities of her favorite philosopher,
but also her own. The Roman elite found itself face to face with a young and attractive Eastern
queen, who was their intellectual peer or, in many cases, superior, and whose position and self-​
confidence allowed her to ignore Roman conventions about women. Roman women, in turn,
gladly imitated the fashions of cosmopolitan Alexandria, e.g., by the typical Ptolemaic melon
hairstyle. Kleopatra was a trendsetter for urban Rome, demonstrating ostentatious wealth and a
high-​brow lifestyle that would lead to envy and resentment.34
Caesar certainly contributed to this growing resentment by having a golden statue of
Kleopatra erected in the temple of Venus Genetrix, the mythical progenitor of his family, and
in the immediate vicinity of the revered image of the goddess. This went far beyond the scope
of usual honors. As other Ptolemaic rulers had done before her, Kleopatra presented herself as
the incarnation of Isis and in Egypt she was worshiped accordingly. Since the interpretatio romana
of Isis was the goddess Venus, an Egyptian cult image with the features of the queen was now
added to the Roman one. To Romans, this was effrontery, particularly as Kleopatra herself, as
the living model for the image and self-​proclaimed embodiment of Isis, was very much pre-
sent in Rome. In view of her public relationship with Caesar, rumors quickly spread about a
planned union of the gens Iulia with the Ptolemaic royal house, first hinted at in the name given
to Caesar and Kleopatra’s offspring. The cultic image erected in the temple of Venus Genetrix
confirmed the union and elevated it to a sacral sphere. Remarkably, Octavian dared not rescind
Caesar’s religious-​political measure; Kleopatra’s statue remained in the temple of Venus. The
affair of the statue shows Caesar dropping the republican mask he still occasionally wore and
indicating willingness to expand his position in the state in a way that would bring him much
criticism and enmity, especially among the senators.35
It certainly contributed to the conspiracy that led to Caesar’s assassination on the Ides
of March 44 by a group of 60 senators, three days before his planned departure for the
Parthian campaign.36 Each dagger thrust in Caesar’s lifeless body was also an indirect attack on
Kleopatra. In traveling to Rome and staying in the city as the obvious consort of Caesar, she
had abandoned the traditional role of the Ptolemies as allied territorial rulers in Egypt and had
associated her fate with that of Caesar. Through her integration into Caesar’s cultic reforms
and his representation as ruler, their ambitious goals and concept of world politics had become
visible to everyone. With his death, their plans and the dream of a Roman–​Egyptian dynasty
lay shattered.
Caesar’s will did not mention Caesarion, Kleopatra’s son. He was much too young and
not even a Roman citizen and thus unable to take over Caesar’s inheritance. But because her
role and that of her son in Caesar’s plans had already become so obvious, the queen remained
a political issue. In view of the tumultuous situation in Rome, she feared for her safety. Four
weeks after Caesar’s death, Cicero was able to write to his friend Atticus that the queen had
disappeared.37

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Back in Alexandria
Thus, her son Caesarion and her second husband Ptolemy XIV securely in tow, Kleopatra
returned to Egypt in the spring of 44. The last trace of her husband is found in a papyrus
from Oxyrhynchos, dated to July 26, 44.38 He died soon after, under uncertain circumstances.
Flavius Josephus, whose judgment of Kleopatra is devastatingly negative anyway, accuses her of
the murders of multiple relatives, including that of her brother.39 Be that as it may, his death
cleared the way for Caesarion. The latter began appearing as co-​regent in Egyptian documents,
signaling a fundamental change in Kleopatra’s dynastic politics. Egypt had become the hub
of her plans for Caesar’s son, confirming Kleopatra’s provisional farewell to dreams of a larger
empire, under a Julio–​Ptolemaic dynasty. At the same time, Caesarion’s elevation satisfied the
requirements of the Egyptian tradition, which demanded a male ruler on the throne, even if
it was otherwise no problem that a woman held the actual power. As so often the case in the
ancient mindset, it was a matter of respecting forms.40
The choice of the cult name of “father-​loving and mother-​loving god” for Ptolemy XV
Kaisar (Caesarion), was an obvious signal, not only to her own subjects, but also to Rome, where
Caesar’s heir Octavian proclaimed himself Caesar’s son (by adoption). For the latter, this was a
clear attack, the emphasis on Caesar’s paternity highlighting through whose veins the murdered
dictator’s blood actually flowed. No wonder that Octavian regarded Caesarion’s very existence
as a threat and later lured him into a trap to eliminate him.
A growing number of internal issues also required Kleopatra’s attention. The Egyptian
economy had been mired in crisis since her father’s reign and had further deteriorated since the
late 50s. Many farmers had been driven to leave their home villages by oppressive tax burdens.
This rural exodus remained a serious problem for the maintenance of the country’s infrastruc-
ture.The annual Nile flood was decisive for the country’s productivity.While it had already been
at a low level in 48, the situation was even worse in 43 and 42, years that saw no Nile flood at all.
People were starving and the situation worsened with the outbreak of an epidemic.41 Kleopatra
opened the state grain storehouses in Alexandria and distributed grain to the citizens. Jews were
probably denied allocation, as they did not possess Alexandrian citizenship. This is an indication
of how low the royal stockpiles must have been: Kleopatra would likely not otherwise have
risked the hostility of the large and contentious Jewish community of the capital.42
Her main occupation will have been the preservation of internal stability. This is also the
reason why she cultivated a good relationship with the powerful local priesthoods and promoted
religious building programs in the interior. For instance, in the temple of Kom Ombo, Kleopatra
(by herself!) is figured on a relief, performing the ritual pharaonic acts for the preservation of
the Maat, the world order.The newly added birth house at the temple of Hermonthis (Armant)
dates from the time of her dual reign with Caesarion and, although the latter is mentioned in
the king’s cartouches with both his throne and proper names as well as his cult titles, the relief
again features only her. She also undertook the construction of the temple house in the temple
of Hathor in Dendera, a project her father had initiated on July 16, 54. Here, she had herself
depicted with Caesarion on a monumental scale on the relief on the back wall of the temple,
but she is relegated to the second tier, likely to present Caesarion as her successor.43 Through
such measures, the queen garnered sympathy in both Upper and Lower Egypt (beyond the
borders of Alexandria proper), despite the difficulties caused by the partial or complete absence
of the Nile flood.
Recovering royal finances soon enabled the queen to pursue a more active foreign policy.
Here too she acted decisively and took the side of the Caesarians, whose representative and
contact was P. Cornelius Dolabella.To him, she sent the four Roman legions stationed in Egypt,

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although these were intercepted by Cassius, one of the murderers of Caesar, who had landed in
Syria and was fortifying his position there.44
When civil war again broke out and Roman legions converged in Greece, Kleopatra
attempted to intervene personally in the conflict. Intending to land in Greece with her powerful
fleet, the queen’s plans were dashed by a storm; she barely survived to return to Alexandria with
the survivors. The decisive battle in Greece was fought without Kleopatra’s help.45

Kleopatra and Mark Antony

After the victory at Philippi in 42, Antony took over the reorganization of the East and the
preparations for a new Parthian war. He was also supposed to collect funds for the supply of
the veterans.46 The most important political factor in the Roman East was Kleopatra herself.
She met with Antony in Tarsos, arriving with great pomp, appearing as Nea Isis or Aphrodite/​
Venus. This was a good match for the self-​portrayal of Antony, celebrated by the cities and the
population of Asia Minor as Neos Dionysos.47
Though our sources talk of great banquets and sundry debaucheries,48 extensive discussions
must have taken place about the main features of cooperation, making a well-​calculated and
lasting partnership possible. Kleopatra and Antony seem also to have gotten to know each
other better personally in Tarsos. As we can see from the events and measures following the
Tarsos meeting, Kleopatra’s visit was undoubtedly a great diplomatic success. Perhaps alone
among Roman client rulers, she was able to communicate with the Triumvir on something
approaching peer status. Antony, on the other hand, could also feel satisfied: he had assured him-
self of the full support of the eminently important Ptolemaic kingdom on a very personal level.
Last but not least, “Aphrodite’s Journey to Dionysos” had clearly expanded his ritual representa-
tion of sovereignty and increased his legitimacy in the eyes of the inhabitants of the Greek East.
With the help of her new paramour, Kleopatra eliminated a number of enemies, especially
her sister Arsinoë, who had acted as rival queen in the Egyptian civil war and who, after her
appearance in Caesar’s triumphal procession, had been allowed to retreat into exile in Ephesos.
On Antony’s command, Arsinoë was killed inside the local temple of Artemis.49
While Antony was now turning to the problems in Syria, Kleopatra traveled back to
Egypt alone. Only after the balance of power in Syria had been restored did Antony come to
Alexandria, where, during the winter of 41/​40, Kleopatra spoiled him with personal attention
and every luxury.50
This interlude came to a halt when the Parthians invaded Roman territory. Antony hurried
to Syria and Asia Minor, then to Italy in the autumn of 40, to rearrange the situation there.51
Kleopatra, who had given birth to Antony’s twins, remained in Alexandria, where news reached
her of an arrangement between Antony and Octavian and the former’s marriage to the latter’s
sister, Octavia. Within three years, this new union produced two daughters.52 Despite this
personal setback, the queen remained loyal to Rome under the threat of the Parthians. Too
weak militarily to intervene in Syria, she granted refuge to Herod the Great, who had fled
his domain, and gave him a vessel for his journey to Rome, where he intended to ask for
assistance.53 P. Ventidius Bassus, one of Antony’s most experienced generals, finally expelled the
Parthians from Asia Minor and Syria in 38.54 We hear little of Kleopatra during these years: the
Parthian–​Roman conflict overshadowed other political developments.
In the summer of 37, Antony again traveled to Syria to prepare for his campaign against
the Parthians. He also needed to replace the 120 ships he had left for Octavian as quickly as
possible. Financially and logistically, he was once again dependent on Kleopatra. And indeed,
we find the queen immediately at his side again. Both pursued similar political interests and

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soon also rekindled their private relationship. The pair spent the winter of 37/​36 in Antiocheia.
Here, Antony recognized Kleopatra’s twins as his children. His son became known as Alexander
Helios, while his daughter was henceforth called Kleopatra Selene. Sun and moon were regarded
as attributes of the Greek goddess of victory, Nike. In this fashion, he included his two children
in the politico-​religious propaganda at the outset of his Parthian war.55

The eastern “land grants”

The so-​called “land grants” of Antony to his children were denounced by Octavian as the sur-
render of Roman territories to a dependent queen. More likely, however, they were a reorgan-
ization of the client ruler system with which Rome administered the East. Caesar had already
placed Cyprus under Ptolemaic administration. Strabon reports that Kleopatra was now also
given control of “Rough” Cilicia “since it was suited to the building of her fleets,” as the port
of Hamaxia was an important transshipment point for ship-​building timber.56
The transfer of areas in Koile-​Syria and Nabatene must also be seen from this point of view.
The numismatic evidence is an important corrective to the literary tradition influenced by the
Augustan propaganda in this case.The primary sources do not give any indication that Antonius’
children by Kleopatra were involved in the territorial transfers, as is claimed by the literary
sources and most scholarship. Numismatic and epigraphic studies, however, show that the terri-
torial allocation was not modified in 34. The narratives of Plutarch and Cassius Dio are clearly
disproved by the epigraphic and numismatic evidence.57

The Parthian Campaign

Antony’s Parthian campaign failed due to his loss of the siege train, probably as a consequence
of the Armenian king’s treason. In addition, the Parthian Great King successfully avoided open
battle and Antonius ultimately could do little but retreat, his forces under constant attack. He
succeeded in leading two thirds of his army over the Armenian mountains in the winter of 36/​
35.58 Kleopatra relieved his troops with vast stores of clothing and money, landing at a town
between Beirut and Sidon.59

Celebrating the Armenian victory

In the spring of 34, Antony launched a new campaign against Armenia. He captured King
Artavasdes and was able to take full possession of Armenia.60 Back in Alexandria, Antony and
Kleopatra organized a parade to celebrate his victory in the autumn of 34. Caesarion and
the three children of Kleopatra and Antony, Alexander Helios, Kleopatra Selene, and Ptolemy
Philadelphos, took part in the celebrations.61 Antony transferred control over the newly
conquered Armenia to Alexander Helios and proclaimed him and Caesarion as “Kings of
Kings,” a title claimed by the Parthian ruler. This was reflected in Kleopatra’s acceptance of the
title “Queen of Kings.”

The war against Octavian

Before Antony could renew the Parthian War, the conflict with Octavian became a civil war.
Officially, Octavian declared war on Kleopatra. Antony assembled a huge army and a fleet of
800 ships. Kleopatra provided a quarter of his naval power, in addition to 20,000 talents and
a large amount of stores and provisions. She accompanied him to Athens.62 The leadership

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circle around Antony in the field camp seems to have resisted Kleopatra’s presence, but Antony
remained loyal to her.63 Eventually, Kleopatra convinced Antony to divorce his wife Octavia,
although the latter had proved a loyal spouse, still taking his side in Rome with her brother.64
For strategic reasons, Kleopatra and Antony’s headquarters were moved to Patrai in autumn of
32, where they spent the winter.

The battle of Actium

At Actium, the armies of Anthony and Octavian finally faced each other. Octavian’s general,
Agrippa, cut off Antony’s supply with fleet operations and the situation rapidly became unten-
able. Cassius Dio attributes to Kleopatra the suggestion that garrisons should be left behind at
the most important strategic points, while the remainder of the army was to accompany her
and Antony to Egypt.65 On September 2, 31, Antony and Kleopatra broke through the enemy
blockade with a large part of their fleet, most of their elite units, and all of their war chest and
sailed passing Leukas to Egypt.66

Showdown in Egypt
Arriving in Alexandria, Kleopatra once again mobilized Egypt’s resources to fight Octavian.67
But when the troops of Antony, still holding Syria and Kyrenaika, as well as important client
kings, went over to Octavian’s side, the situation became hopeless. Kleopatra and her lover
Antony now founded the “Club of Partners in Death” in place of their “Club of Inimitable
Livers.”68 They tried to cope by throwing lavish banquets and by ostentatious hilarity.69 In late
July 30, Octavian arrived in front of Alexandria.When Antony’s fleet and cavalry switched sides,
the decision was made.70 On August 1, Octavian entered the capital.

Suicide
Kleopatra had already retreated to a tomb prepared for her and sent a message to Antony
announcing her own death. He thereupon fell onto his sword but did not die immediately. She
may have faked her death in order to induce Antony to commit suicide. In any case, the queen
had him brought to her mausoleum, where he died in her arms.71
Octavian allowed her to have Antony’s body embalmed and buried. She then refused
food under the pretext of a fever and tried to end her life. Octavian, however, suspected her
intentions and blackmailed her by threatening her children. Hence, she abandoned her hunger
strike.72 Her alleged attempts at seducing Octavian are almost certainly later inventions.73 The
queen believed that, even if she stayed alive, there was little more she could do for her children.
Caesarion, her eldest son, was still on the run in southern Egypt, but Antyllus, Antony’s son by
Fulvia, had probably already been executed.74 In any case, she wanted to avoid being humiliated
by being paraded in Octavian’s triumph.
Even in antiquity, the cause of her death was controversial. The most popular proposal, then
and now, was a snake bite from an Egyptian cobra. Cassius Dio stresses that she prepared for
a painless death. In a sealed farewell letter to Octavian, she had asked to be buried alongside
Antony, as Antony and Kleopatra had been worshiped as a couple, as Nea Isis and Neos Dionysos.
Octavian later allowed her burial in her mausoleum next to her dead lover.75 In Dio’s account,
after sending her message to Octavian, the queen died, clothed in precious garb, grasping the
symbols of her rule. But Dio himself admits that no one knew how the queen died. The only

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physical evidence was a few puncture wounds on her arm. He offers two variants to explain
them.76
In Plutarch’s version, the queen first adorned Antony’s grave, said goodbye, and bathed her-
self. She then reclined for a last delicious meal, during which a basket of figs was brought to her,
which the guards had let pass. After the meal, she sent a sealed letter to Octavian, asked all but
her two chamber maids to leave the room, and locked the doors.When the doors were opened,
Kleopatra was found lying dead on a golden bed in royal dress. Eiras, one of the two servants,
was dead at her feet, the other, Charmion, was dying and still busy adjusting the tiara on the
queen’s head.77 Plutarch also mentions variants on the cause of death.78 The geographer Strabon
refers to the application of a poison plaster as a potential means of bringing about death.79 Snake
venoms cannot penetrate intact human skin. Other known poisons could not be administered
with a needle or a plaster in sufficient quantity to be fatal; both hypotheses must be excluded.80
The famous snake bite, however, seems equally improbable. Cobra liveliness and agitation
varies depending on external temperature. Kleopatra would scarcely have had to irritate a cobra
with a spindle; she would likely not have been able to control the extremely active snake.
Kleopatra would have had to take the snake in her hand, put it to her skin, and, if the cobra
bit, massage the venom into the snake’s upper jaw by applying pressure on the venom glands,
as cobras are known to bite without injecting venom. Moreover, death by cobra bite is by no
means as pleasant as is described by Plutarch.81
Plant poisons, hemlock among them, were foremost among poisons in antiquity.82 Hellenistic
rulers often had gardens created especially for poisonous plants.83 It would have been easier for
Kleopatra to use plant poisons.84 Moreover, one could plausibly explain the almost simultaneous
death of the queen and her maids if they had simultaneously consumed a similar dose.

Conclusions
It seems obvious that Plutarch, Cassius Dio, and their sources were misled by a cleverly staged
dramaturgy that probably originated among Kleopatra’s entourage. Their versions have nothing
to do with the actual cause of death. Kleopatra had a final message to send to her subjects: the
rightful queen of Egypt, the Nea Isis, had died and an epoch had ended.
Since the uraeus snake, the royal cobra, was not only regarded as a royal attribute, but also as
a form of appearance of Isis, with a cobra bite, one incarnation of Isis would have been carried
to the afterlife by the other. The only logical outcome would have been a divine rebirth. Thus,
Kleopatra, as Isis, would be moved to the divine realm in the eyes of her Egyptian subjects,
exactly as she wanted to be perceived.85 That no snake could be found in the aftermath further
encouraged this particular reception. How closely this was connected to the figure of the queen
herself is evident in the fact that it was her personal physician who first spread the story of the
cobra bite.86 Kleopatra was worshiped as a deity long after her death. She herself must be seen as
the originator of her own death myth, but Octavian cemented this “official” version by having
an image of Kleopatra carried in his triumph: it showed her being bitten by two cobras.87
History was written by the victor.

Notes
1 All dates in this chapter are BCE.
2 BGU VIII 1762.3–​4; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 2 (14); Bevan 1927: 354–​5; Huß 1990: 192–​3; Ogden
1999: 99–​105; Whitehorne 2001: 1287–​93.
3 Hölbl 1994: 196.

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4 Translation from Perrin 1920: 197.

5 SEG IX.5; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 2.12; Cic. Leg. agr. 2.42. Cf. Bloedow 1963: 3–​4; Olshausen 1963:
30–​1; Huß 1990: 202–​3.
6 OGI II 741. Cf. Fraser 1972: 428. On the title and its function, Criscuolo 1990: 89–​96; Hölbl 1994: 196.
7 For sibling marriages, Theokr. 17.131–​4; Hölbl 1994: 88, 106; see also Chapter 29 in this volume, with
recent bibliography.
8 Quaegebeur 1991: 49–​66, esp. 60–​1, 66; Ricketts 1992: 280–​1; Bianchi 2003: 13–​14; Bingen 1999: 54.
9 Strab. 17.796; Buch. II.13. Cf. Thompson 1988: 125. For the date see Heinen 1966: 28.
10 For Potheinos see Caes. BCiv. 3.108.1–​2.; Cass. Dio 42.36.1; Plut. Pomp. 77.2–​3; Plut. Caes. 48.2.
Heinen 1966: 36–​37; PP VI 14620; Mooren 1975: 72–​73. For Achillas see App. B Civ. 2.84; Caes. BCiv.
104.1–​2; Plut. Caes. 49.4; Cass. Dio 42.4.1.; Cf. PP II 2154; Mooren 1975: 73–​4. Achillas was probably
of local Egyptian origin, but this does not seem to have been an encumbrance for his career: Plut.
Pomp. 77.3; Heinen 1966: 41–​2. On Theodotos: Plut. Pomp. 77.3, 8, 9; Plut. Brut. 33; Liv. per. 112;Vell.
Pat. 2.53.2. Cf. PP VI 14603; App. B Civ. 2.84.
11 Buch. II.13. Cf. Bloedow 1963: 91–​2; Heinen 1966: 25–​6, 28; Hölbl 1994: 205, 254; Huß 1994: 53.
12 BGU VIII 1730 = C.Ord.Ptol. 73. Cf. Rostovtzeff 1955, II: 716–​17.
13 For the retreat into the Thebais: Malalas 9.279. Cf. Criscuolo 1989: 328–​9. See Hölbl 1994: 206–​7 for
Kleopatra’s popularity in Upper Egypt. On the retreat into Palestine: Strab. 17.796; App. B Civ. 2.84.
On coinage in Ascalon: Brett 1937: 455; cf. Hazzard 2000: 150.
14 Caes. BCiv. 3.103.1–​2; Plut. Pomp. 77.1.
15 Plut. Pomp. 79.4, 80. On the murder of Pompey: Caes. BCiv. 3.104.2–​3; Plut. Pomp. 78–​80; Cass. Dio
42.4–​5. Cf. Heinen 1966: 65–​6; Greenhalgh 1981: 256–​7.
16 Liv. Per. 112; Plut. Pomp. 80.7; Eutrop 6.22.1. Cf. Heinen 1966: 70–​1.
17 Cass. Dio 42.8.1–​3; Lucan. 9.1036–​9.
18 Caes. BCiv. 3.106.4–​5; Cass. Dio 42.7.3; Lucan. 10.9–​14.
19 Caes. BCiv. 3.107.2.
20 Lucan. 10.53–​60.
21 Plut. Caes. 49.1-​2. Whitehorne 2001: 1287–​93. Cf. Cass. Dio 42.34.3–​35.1.
22 Lucan. 10.56–​103, 141. Zwierlein 1974: 54–​64.
23 Cass. Dio 42.35.3-​6.
24 Cass. Dio 42.43.4; Plut. Caes. 49.9; Plut. Pomp. 80.8; App. B Civ. 5.9.
25 CIL I.1², p. 212 (Fasti Caeretani); p. 223 (Fasti Maffeiani).
26 Cass. Dio 42.44.2-​4.
27 Suet. Iul. 52.1; App. B Civ. 2.90.
28 The contemporary author of the Bellum Alexandrinum notably refrains from mentioning any tourist
activity on the part of Caesar; instead, he has him leave the country immediately (Bell. Alex. 30.5).
Heinen 1966: 148–​9; Clauss 1995: 31–​2; Baumann 2003: 43.
29 Against Caesar’s parenthood, see Étienne 1997: 64–​ 5. In favor: Heinen 1969: 181–​ 202; Hölbl
1994: 213; Deininger 2000: 221; Schäfer 2012: 142.
30 Cass. Dio 43.19.2–​4; App. B Civ. 2.101.
31 Suet. Iul. 52.1; Cass. Dio 42.27.3. For the date, see Van’t Dack 1970: 53–​67.
32 Heinen 1966: 162–​3. On gifts made to her: Suet. Iul. 52.1.
33 Schäfer 2012: 143–​4.
34 On M. Tigellius Hermogenes Porph., see Hor. Sat. 1.2.1ff. Cf.Treggiari 1969: 269–​70. On Philostratos’
appearance see Anth. Graeca 7.645 (Krinagoras of Mytilene); Philostr. Soph. 1.5; Fraser 1970: I, 490, 494;
Becher 1966: 177. On the adaptation of hairstyles see Fleischer 1996: 46, 239–​40.
35 App. B Civ. 2.102; Cass. Dio 51.22.3. Gelzer 1960: 265–​6; Becher 1966: 20–​1; Hölbl 1994: 266; Huß
2001: 725; Schäfer 2014: 198–​9. For the date of the statue see Van’t Dack: 1970: 66–​7.
36 Cic. Div. 2.23; Suet. Iul. 80.1–​4.; Plut. Caes. 63–​5; Nik. Dam. 23.81ff. (= FGrH 90 F 130); Cass. Dio
44.13–​15; App. B Civ. 2.111ff.
37 Cic. Att. 14.8.1. Schäfer 2014: 195–​202.
38 P.Oxy. 14.1629. See Heinen 1998: 336–​7.
39 Ioseph. AJ. 15.89; Ioseph. Ap. 2.57. Cf. Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 2.16–​17. For the death of Ptolemy XIV
see Skeat 1954: 42. On the murder of relatives by Kleopatra see Joseph. BJ. 1.359.
40 See Samuel 1971: 73–​9 for the joint rule of Kleopatra and Caesarion.
41 On starvation and disease in Egypt: App. B Civ. 4.61, 4.68. For Dioskurides see PP 6.16595; Fraser
1972: I, 367, 372. See Sen. Qnat. 4.2.16 for the missing Nile flood.

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42 Ioseph. Ap. 2.60; Hölbl 1994: 214.

43 She is still mentioned in the crypts, together with her father. On Mammisi of Hermonthis Lepsius:
59–​65; Budde 2005: 339. For Dendera, see Quaegebeur 1991: 49–​72; Bingen 1999: 54–​66; Bianchi
2003: 13–​24.
44 App. B Civ. 3.78, 4.59, 5.8; Cic. Fam. 12.11.1–​2.
45 App. B Civ. 4.74, 4.82, 5.8.
46 Eck 1998: 20–​1.
47 Plut. Ant. 26.1–​3; Tarn and Charlesworth 1967: 65.
48 Plut. Ant. 26.6–​7; Ath. 147e–​148b.
49 App. B Civ. 5.9; Joseph. AJ. 15.89. Cf. Cass. Dio 48.24.2.
50 App. B Civ. 5.11; Plut. Ant. 28.1.
51 See Buchheim 1960: 35 for the Parthian invasion.
52 On this so-​called treaty of Brundisium see App. B Civ. 5.60–​65; Cass. Dio 48.28–​30; Plut. Ant. 30–​1.
See Fischer 1999: 67–​81, esp. 79–​81 for Octavia.
53 Ioseph. AJ. 14.370–​8; Ioseph. BJ. 1.14.1–​2.
54 On the career of P. Ventidius Bassus, see Cic. Fam. 10.18.3; Plin. HN 7.135.
55 On the conferral of the epithets in winter of 37/​36, see Plut. Ant. 36.5.
56 Strab. 14.5.3. Schrapel 1996: 92–​4.
57 Schrapel 1996.
58 Plut. Ant. 37–​38, 41.7; Cass. Dio 49.25–​26.2; Vell. 2.82.1–​3. Kromayer 1896: 70–​104; Buchheim
1960: 82–​3.
59 Plut. Ant. 51.1–​2. Cf. Cass. Dio 49.31.4.
60 Cass. Dio 49.39.3–​40.1. Cf.Vell. 2.82.3.
61 Cass. Dio 49.40.2–​41.5; Plut. Ant. 50.6–​7.
62 Plut. Ant. 56.1–​57.2. Schäfer 2007: 167–​9. See also Oros. 6.19.4; Huß 2001: 741.
63 Carlsen 2006: 131, 145–​6.
64 Plut. Ant. 57.4–​5; Liv. Per. 132; Cass. Dio 50.3.2. For the divorce see Gardthausen 1917: 158–​69; Fischer
1999: 102–​4.
65 Cass. Dio 50.15.1–​3.
66 Kleopatra’s alleged abandonment of Antony: Cass. Dio 50.33.1–​3; Cf. Plut. Ant. 66.5. For the battle, see
Kromayer 1933: 361–​3; Carter 1972: 251–​3; Roddaz 1984: 164–​6; Schäfer 2006: 188–​96.
67 Cass. Dio 51.5.3–​6.3.
68 Plut. Ant. 71.3.
69 Plut. Ant. 71.3.
70 Cass. Dio 51.5.3–​6.3.
71 Plut. Ant. 77.3–​4. On Antony’s suicide: Bengtson 1977: 249; Goltz Huzar 1978: 226.
72 Plut. Ant. 82.1–​2. Cf. Cass. Dio 51.11.5.
73 Cass. Dio 51.12.1–​3; Plut. Ant. 83–​5.
74 Suet. Aug. 17.5; Plut. Ant. 81.1; Cass. Dio 51.15.5. See Heinen 1995: 3152–​4 for Anytllus’ unsuccessful
attempt to find safety in the Kaisareion of Alexandria.
75 Cass. Dio 51.13.4–​6. For the later worship of the pair, see Schäfer 2006: 121, 125–​8, 177–​8; 183–​4.
76 Cass. Dio 51.14.1–​3.
77 Plut. Ant. 85.3–​4.
78 Plut. Ant. 86.1–​3.
79 Strab. 17.795.
80 Mebs and Schäfer 2008: 349.
81 Plut. Ant. 71.8.Visser and Chapman 1978; Warrell 1995: 433.
82 Morel 1931: 224–​8; Kaufman 1932: 161–​7; Kerner 1958: 345–​7; Barb 1978: 1213–​14.
83 Arsac 2002: 10–​11; Samama 2002: 14–​27.
84 See Barb 1978: 1213–​14 on plant poisons known in antiquity.
85 See Hölbl 1994: 269 for the divine rebirth of the earthy Isis regina. Clauss 1995: 102 rightly emphasizes
that Kleopatra was acknowledged as a divinity during her lifetime and hence that the point of this
rebirth could not have been to acquire immortality. On the apocalyptic connotations of the uraeus, see
Pfrommer 1999: 144.
86 On Olympos see Schäfer 2006: 242–​3; 248.
87 Verg. Aen. 8.697; Griffiths 1961: 113–​17, esp. 116–​17; Johnson 1967: 393–​402; Hölbl 1994: 269.

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Christoph Schäfer

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors and document collections not listed here are those found in the Oxford
Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

C.Ord.Ptol. Lenger, M.-​T. 1964. Corpus des ordonnances des Ptolémées. Brussels.
PP Peremans, W. and Van’t Dack, E. (eds.) 1950–​2002. Prosopographia Ptolemaica, 10 vols. Leuven.

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Baumann, U. 2003. Kleopatra. Reinbek.
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Fraser, P.M. 1972. Ptolemaic Alexandria, 2 vols. Oxford.
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Lepsius, K. R. 1901. Denkmaeler aus Aegypten und Aethiopien. Berlin.
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PART III

The ancient Near East

136
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12
INVISIBLE MESOPOTAMIAN
ROYAL WOMEN?
Sebastian Fink

Mesopotamian textual evidence

A quick survey of Mesopotamian Royal Inscriptions would lead to the conclusion that royal
women are virtually absent from these records. The texts focus on the king and his pious and
heroic deeds, and other human beings mostly find mention as evildoers, who oppose the just
reign of the king and are consequently defeated by him. If we only had royal inscriptions avail-
able, we could conclude that Mesopotamian queens are virtually invisible to us. However, as
an exception to the rule, royal females are mentioned in a rather small number of inscriptions;
more often we find information regarding their lives and duties in literary texts and archival
material like letters or administrative documents.
Mesopotamia, the land between the two rivers Euphrates and Tigris, yields a rich textual
heritage. Although there is no detailed survey of the number of ancient texts, it is likely that
about half a million cuneiform documents are stored in museums all over the globe.The edition
and re-​edition of these texts, their number increasing practically every day due to new discov-
eries, is an ongoing task for Assyriologists. Although much has been achieved, it will still take
some generations before cuneiform editions reach the same status as classical sources. Nearly all
of the major texts in Greek and Latin are nowadays available in good editions, as generations
of scholars since the Renaissance have devoted their efforts to the correct understanding of the
language, the peculiarities of certain genres, and the cultural, as well as historical, background of
these texts. Compared to that, the history of Assyriology is much shorter; the year 1857 is often
mentioned as the birth year of Assyriology as an academic discipline.1
Cuneiform script was in use for about 3,500 years, from the middle of the fourth millen-
nium BCE until the first century CE.2 While the language of the texts from the fourth millen-
nium is still under debate, because the texts only contain numbers and signs referring to certain
objects, the evidence becomes clearer in the third millennium. At that time, cuneiform texts
from Mesopotamia made use of two main languages: Sumerian and Akkadian. The language
of the earliest readable texts from the third millennium is Sumerian, a language that was only
decipherable through ancient dictionaries, written down by Akkadian-​speaking scribes in the
second millennium. Akkadian in turn belongs to the vast and well-​known family of Semitic
languages. While the use of Sumerian was declining toward the end of the third millennium,

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Sebastian Fink

the number of Akkadian texts was steadily increasing. In the second millennium, the use of
Sumerian was restricted to scholarly and priestly circles.3
The nature of these first texts was administrative and it is communis opinio in Assyriology
that cuneiform was originally developed for administrative purposes. It took several hundred
years until people realized the potential of that script and to notice that cuneiform can also
be used to represent actual language. This innovation made it possible to expand the scope of
its applications. All of a sudden, literature could be written down, kings could inscribe objects
with their great deeds, and, according to a Sumerian epic, a letter was the first text that was ever
written.
After this literary revolution in the first half of the third millennium, Mesopotamia has abun-
dance textual evidence for kingship. However, the evidence is not distributed evenly. Because
of the haphazardness of archaeological discoveries, some kings are extremely well-​documented,
while others are completely or largely absent from the textual records. In these cases, we know
their names only because of entries in a king-​list or in an administrative document.While there
were manifest differences in royal ideology over time and space, Mesopotamian kingship has
some clear features. The male rulers of Mesopotamia are the darlings of the gods, the protectors
of their land, builders of temples, and the foremost heroes of their time. Royal inscriptions, royal
hymns, and epics focusing on the deeds of a king all bear witness to these common features,
though different genres center on different aspects of kingship, be it the pious ruler or the
warrior king.4
While assemblies held an important role in several cities,5 kingship was the political norm
in Mesopotamia. Although at some points in Mesopotamian history the land was united under
one ruler, it was the norm that Mesopotamia was divided between several rival powers that
concluded alliances or fought against each other. Since the second millennium, Babylonia and
Assyria were the major rivals for dominance. For more than 2,000 years, Mesopotamia was
ruled by kings residing in Mesopotamia, if not necessarily Mesopotamians themselves. However,
this tradition ended when Babylon was taken by the Persians in 539 BCE and Mesopotamia
became part of a larger political entity with an imperial center outside of Mesopotamia. For this
reason, 539 BCE is often regarded as the end of Mesopotamian history; for this chapter I will
follow this definition of the limits of Mesopotamian history and end with Adad-​guppi, the
famous mother of Nabonidus, the last king of the Neo-​Babylonian Empire.
The aim of the following is to make some Mesopotamian queens and royal women visible
by combining the mostly sparse evidence that is available. Not all of these women are neces-
sarily historical figures; some of them are not even human. I include in my discussion two
Mesopotamian goddesses, since they offer a good approach to the general depiction of royal
females in cuneiform texts.

Terminology
The most common title for Sumerian kings is lugal (literally “big man”), and we have nearly
25,000 attestations of this word in the corpus of the ePSD. If we search for a word meaning
“queen,” then ereš is the best candidate, but if we look at the few attestations—​ePSD has 11
of them—​we quickly learn that most of them come from lexical lists or ancient dictionaries,
and that the two instances from literary texts use the word as an epithet of the goddess Inanna.
A more common Sumerian word for a royal woman is nin, which has the very general meaning
“lady” and is often used in divine names.
In Akkadian there is a straightforward female form of the word šarru “king,” šarratu, but in
the Neo-​Assyrian period this title was only used for goddesses or female tribal leaders. Royal

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Invisible Mesopotamian royal women?

women at the Neo-​Assyrian court were usually designated as sēgallu, which can be translated as
“woman of the palace.”6 So it seems that the title šarratu was only given to someone who really
held power and kingship.

Heavenly queens
Mesopotamian literature has two prototypical roles for mythological women: the mother and
the lover. In the Mesopotamian pantheon, these prototypes are represented by Ninsun, who
famously features as the wise mother of king Gilgamesh, and by Inanna/​Ishtar, the goddess of
love and war. While most kings remain silent about their wise mothers—​a famous exception
will be discussed below (p. 145)—​many kings claim to have been chosen by the love of Inanna/​
Ishtar.
In Mesopotamia, the imagination used to organize and populate the divine realm was bound
to the society an individual lived in and the experiences he or she had there. Therefore, we can
assume that the Mesopotamian organization of the heavens mirrors, at least partly, actual social
reality. In contrast to the “women of the palaces,” the goddesses actually held an office; they were
designated as queens because they were officially held responsible for some aspects of the world.
As pointed out above (p. 138), Mesopotamian rulers are usually astonishingly quiet about their
actual family in their inscriptions; instead they often inform us about their intimate relation to
goddesses, be it as their lover or their child.7

Ninsun—​the loving mother

Ninsun is, at least according to one influential tradition, the wife of Lugalbanda and the
mother of Gilgamesh. She features prominently in the Sumerian inscriptions of the third
millennium, especially in the third Dynasty of Ur (c. 2100–​2000 BCE). In the early second
millennium a king of Uruk built a temple for Lugalbanda and his wife Ninsun. Several his-
torical kings of the third millennium claim in their inscriptions that they are the “born child”
of Ninsun and their divine mother is responsible for securing the support of the major deities
for the king.8
Ninsun plays an important role in the standard version of the Gilgamesh epic, the most
famous product of Mesopotamian literature, which we could describe as an ancient coming-​
of-​age story.9 While the first Gilgamesh texts are written in Sumerian and recount different
episodes of the hero’s life, most of these stories were united in the so-​called standard version,
which is written in Akkadian. The hero of the story is Gilgamesh, the king of Uruk, who first
needs to find a friend in order to overcome his despotic behavior, then starts out for fame and
fortune, and finally realizes over the death of his friend Enkidu that he also has to die. The rest
of the story informs us about his (failed) quest for eternal life and how he finally came to terms
with his privileged life as the king of Uruk.
Gilgamesh’s mother Ninsun is depicted as a wise dream-​interpreter, loving mother, sup-
porter of her son and good advisor.10 In the first tablets, which deal with youthful Gilgamesh,
she plays an important role in guiding and protecting her son.When Gilgamesh is upset because
of strange dreams, he immediately consults his mother in order to understand their meaning, as
in the following example:

The mother of Gilgamesh was clever, she was wise, she knew everything, she said to
her son. Wild-​Cow Ninsun was clever, she was wise, she knew everything, she said to
Gilgamesh: “The stars of heaven appeared before you, like a lump of rock from the sky

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one fell toward you.You picked it up but it was too much for you, you kept trying to
roll it but you could not dislodge it.You picked it up and set it down at my feet, and
I, I made it your equal, you loved it like a wife, caressing and embracing it. A mighty
companion will come to you, the savior of (his) friend: he is the mightiest in the land,
he has strength, his strength is as mighty as a lump of rock from the sky.You will love
him like a wife, caressing and embracing him, he, being mighty, will often save you.
Favorable and precious was your dream!”
(Tablet 1, 259–​73)11

Here Ninsun first repeats the content of the dream that was told to her by Gilgamesh and then
in turn interprets it in a way that is favorable for Gilgamesh and makes him feel confident. Later
in the story, Enkidu replaces her as advisor and dream-​interpreter. We can read this change as a
typical human phenomenon: when people grow up they do not need their parents’ advice so
often and they rather rely on their friends’ instead. After Enkidu’s death Gilgamesh has no clear
advisor any more. Perhaps this is also a sign that he has become an adult, maybe even a sage, who
can make decisions on his own and give advice to other people.
Gilgamesh’s father plays no role in the epic, so we can quite safely assume that Gilgamesh
only became king after his father had died and thus had no option to ask for his advice. This
fact might also explain why the king’s mother often takes the role of an advisor in literature
and real life.

Inanna/​Ishtar—​the dangerous lover

Inanna (Sumerian) or Ishtar (Akkadian) is the goddess of love and war. Rivkah Harris fittingly
characterized her as “paradox and a coincidence of opposites,” since this goddess incorporates
so many different and even contradictory aspects.12 To summarize the character of this goddess
in the categories of the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, we could say that Inanna
represents the Dionysian, ecstatic aspects of life, in contrast to the well-​ordered, rationally
arranged universe (the Apollonian in Nietzsche’s words) of the male gods, which is for example
found in the myths centering on Enki, the clever organizer of the Sumerian world.13 The various
aspects of this goddess can perhaps best be summarized by stressing that every time someone
does something with passion and overcomes the usual boundaries of the well-​organized world,
this is connected to Inanna/​Ishtar.
Concerning her role as a lover, it should suffice to mention two texts. An exceptional Old
Babylonian song praising Ishtar describes how she has sex with 120 men, 14 times with each
of them, and after this the men are exhausted, but Ishtar is not, and she invites them to start
anew.14 In the Epic of Gilgamesh several females could be seen as representations of Ishtar. So,
for example, Shamhat, the prostitute who civilizes Enkidu by seducing him, or Shiduri, the ale-​
wife, who lives at the edge of the known world and tries to give good advice to Gilgamesh. On
Tablet VI, Ishtar’s role as lover is emphasized and, against the usual norms, she takes the initiative
and invites Gilgamesh to be her husband. In a speech she promises him that as her husband,
he will be rewarded with a chariot of lapis lazuli and gold and all kings will bow down before
him. This is a clear hint of the motif of the “King by love of Inanna”15 that we can find in so
many inscriptions, but instead of being happy about Ishtar’s proposal, Gilgamesh bluntly rejects
her offer with a long speech focusing on the bad fate of her former lovers.16 Ishtar becomes
furious about this and forces her father An to give her the monstrous Bull of Heaven in order
to punish Gilgamesh.17

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Earthly queens
If we return to the earthly domain, we can clearly state that most of the royal women we
encounter in the inscriptions are of the Ninsun-​type and they represent the caring mother
or the loving wife. The administrative evidence of all periods clearly demonstrates that royal
women could profit from their privileged position.They held estates, bought and sold lands, and
had substantial property of their own.18 Most probably, they received these estates for different
reasons, but one of them was surely their role in cult, where they had a responsibility for certain
offerings. However, this aspect of royal women as businesswomen plays almost no role in the
official representation.The best evidence for the role of royal women in cult from Neo-​Assyrian
times comes from ritual descriptions.19 These texts clearly indicate that royal women had their
obligations during important rituals.
The stories of the Ishtar-​like Mesopotamian queen Semiramis, who is depicted as warrior
queen, are only found in later Greek historiography, but not in the available Mesopotamian
sources.20 In the following, I will treat some exceptional queens in chronological order.

Ku-​Baba of Kish
Kish is an ancient city in what is now central Iraq and it held a powerful position during
some periods of the third millennium. It was once speculated that Kish had formed a first
Mesopotamian Empire, but the evidence for this claim is not very strong.21 The Sumerian King-​
List, a text that maintains the fiction that there always was only a single king in Mesopotamia,
mentions only one female ruler, namely Ku-​Baba, who is the only “king” of the third dynasty
of Kish:

At Kish, Ku-​Baba, the innkeeper, the one who strengthened the foundations of Kish,
was king; she reigned 100 years; one king reigned 100 years. Kish was defeated; its
kingship was taken to Akshak.
(SKL, IV, 37–​44)22

From the Sumerian text, it is completely obvious that Ku-​Baba is a female; nevertheless, she is
given the title lugal (“king”). Normally that title is only used for male individuals and there is
no exact female counterpart to it. However, we can argue that lugal was used to make it obvious
that she was not simply a royal woman, the wife of a ruling king, or a princess, but that she
was executing kingship herself. Ku-​Baba is one of the few individuals in the King-​List who
is described with some more details than others and the only “female king” mentioned there.
The text also mentions Ku-​Baba’s former profession—​she was an innkeeper, not an unusual
but also not a very highly regarded profession for females—​and additionally informs us that she
strengthened the foundations of Kish. We can assume that this strengthening of the foundations
does relate to some story about rebuilding the city and the city wall of Kish. Since the city wall
was the pride and the most important military asset of any Mesopotamian city, rebuilding or
strengthening the city wall was a great heroic task for any Mesopotamian ruler.
Unfortunately, the Sumerian King-​List only gives us these allusions to a story in which the
rise of the innkeeper Ku-​Baba to the throne was described and her great deeds as building-​
queen were celebrated. Therefore, we cannot say much about the character of this queen, but
her profession might indicate some relationship to Inanna/​Ishtar, since that goddess is the
patron of taverns, which were often connected with prostitution.23 Despite the fact that Ku-​
Baba was defeated by the city Akshak, and kingship was taken there, her story does not end

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here. After Akshak held kingship for 93 years, Puzur-​Sîn, explicitly designated as son of Ku-​
baba, defeated Akshak and brought back kingship to Kish and established a dynasty that ruled
for 491 years.24 Puzur-​Sîn is the only king in the list whose rule is legitimized by mentioning
his mother.
The so called “Chronicle of the Esagila,” a much later text (Glassner suggests a date not
earlier than 1100 BCE),25 mentions Ku-​Baba again. The text focuses on the role of the god
Marduk in granting kingship and explains history as a result of offerings made or not made to
Marduk in his temple Esagila: every successful ruler regularly offered fish to Marduk, while bad
kings did not and their downfall was a consequence of this failure. In the chronicle, Ku-​Baba is
a clever innkeeper who offered bread and water to the captured fishermen of the temple Esagila
and, by delivering the fish to the temple, she made Marduk happy and he granted kingship to
her (“Chronicle of the Esagila,” 48–​55).26 It is virtually impossible to decide, based on the char-
acter of our evidence, whether Ku-​Baba was a literary or a historical figure, but it is obvious
that the story of the clever innkeeper Ku-​Baba fascinated the Mesopotamians and traces of this
story are found in documents from three millennia.

Enheduanna
Enheduanna was actually no queen, but the daughter of Sargon of Akkad (2350–​2300 BCE),
the founder of the Empire of Akkad.27 She held several prominent religious offices and is one
of the most popular Mesopotamian females, as she is often mentioned as the first author of
world history known by name.This is not because Enheduanna composed the first literary texts
from Mesopotamia, but rather because she took the extraordinary step to mention herself as
the author of these compositions. Usually the author of literary texts remained anonymous in
Mesopotamia and only very few authors are mentioned by name in the texts. However, some
authors are mentioned in lists that attribute composition to certain persons.28 That Enheduanna
actually is the author of these texts is assumed by many Assyriologists.29 The compositions
attributed to her consist of several hymns. Among these compositions are the temple-​hymns,30
a collection of 42 hymns praising temples, where we can read: “The compiler of the tablet
(is) Enḫeduanna. My lord, that which has been created (here) no one has created before (ls.
543–​4).”31
Here Enheduanna takes up a typical heroic motif from the Royal Inscriptions, the motif of
doing something for the first time. While kings usually capture cities, or traverse inaccessible
mountain paths and claim that no one had captured that very city or traversed this very moun-
tain path before them,32 Enheduanna here puts pride in her literary skills. No one before her
has ever collected and compiled 42 temple hymns in 480 verses.
While the content of the temple hymns does not yield any information concerning the life
of Enheduanna, the song “nin-​me-​shara” is of a more personal character.33 There Enheduanna
informs us about a dramatic moment in her life. The text starts with a highly literary hymnal
section praising the power of Inanna. In line 66, the tone changes; we are informed that
Enheduanna is speaking.34 After having praised Inanna, Enheduanna now laments her bad fate.
She asks Inanna to have her fate and the verdict that was cast over her reconsidered, and to save
her life and reinstall her as the En-​priestess of the Eana in Ur.
The background for her dramatic appeal was a rebellion against the dynasty of Akkad, during
which Enheduanna, the En-​priestess of the temple Eana in Ur, was removed from her office.
The leader of the rebellion, Luagal-​Ane, entered the temple and, according to Enheduanna,
defiled its sacred rites. From the point of view of the rebels, the installation of Sargon’s daughter
Enheduanna might have been understood as a sacrilege and so they strove to remove this

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member of Sargon’s royal family from this seemingly very important office.35 Ultimately, the
rebellion was not successful. The supremacy of Akkad in the south was restored and the rebels
were heavily punished—​according to Enheduanna—​by the wrath of Inanna.
To conclude, we can say that Enheduanna was not only a very active poet, but that she also
actively took part in an ideological justification of the Akkadian Empire and the harsh measures
undertaken against the rebels by explaining these measures as a result of the scorn of Inanna.
If she was involved in the further development of this ideology, we can state that it was quite a
success. Although the rebellions in the south continued, the Royal Inscriptions of this period are
characterized by the frequent mentions of Inanna and by a taste for violence.36

Sammu-​ramat
Sammu-​ramat was the wife of King Shamshi-​Adad V (823–​811 BCE) and mother of King
Adad-​narari III (810–​783). Some scholars assume that she was co-​regent with her son, while
others doubt that she served this function.37 The main evidence for the assumption that she
functioned as co-​regent (not a clearly defined office, but a rather an ad hoc solution in a difficult
situation), is a stone stele that is extraordinary in several regards:

Boundary stone of Adad-​narari, king of Assyria, son of Shamshi-​Adad (V), king of

Assyria (and of) Semiramis, the palace-​woman of Shamshi-​Adad, king of Assyria,
mother of Adad-​narari, strong king, king of Assyria, daughter-​in-​law of Shamaneser
(III), king of the four quarters. When Ushiplulume king of the Kummuhites, caused
Adad-​narari, king of Assyria (and) Semiramis, the palace woman to cross the Euphrates.
I fought a pitched battle with them –​with Atarshumki, son of Adramu, of the city
of Arpad together with eight kings who were with him at the city Paqarahubunu.
I took away from them their camp. To save their lives they dispersed.
In this (same year) they erected this boundary stone […]
(Grayson 1996: 205)

The first extraordinary fact is that the king mentions his mother in his genealogy, something
that is completely unusual. Additionally, he states that he was accompanied by his mother while
he was on a campaign, which seems a bit strange for a heroic king. These two points indicate
that Sammu-​ramat actually held a truly prominent role, that perhaps she herself led the military
operation instead of her son Adad-​narari, who might simply have been too young to rule him-
self. However, as we do not have much further evidence,38 her co-​regency will remain a matter
of discussion, but the simple existence of this inscription indicates that something extraordinary
was going on here.
As mentioned above (p. 143), we have no evidence for later narratives that refer to a powerful
warrior queen Sammu-​ramat in Mesopotamia that might have inspired the creation of the
Greek image of the Mesopotamian warrior queen Semiramis (see Chapter 39). Since most of
our sources derive from official or even royal archives, it comes as no surprise that folk stories
are not very well attested. They mainly belonged to the oral sphere and if they were written
down, scribes might have used the easier Aramaic for such stories. Unfortunately, Aramaic was
mostly written on papyri and parchment and these organic materials quickly deteriorated
under Mesopotamian climatic conditions. Therefore, it seems very unlikely that we will ever
know what inspired the Greeks when they wrote about the famous queen Semiramis, who has
often been considered identical with Sammu-​ramat. Actual evidence for links between the two
women are as yet missing.39

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Naqi ͗a
Naqi ͗a (c. 730–​668 BCE), wife of Sennacherib (705–​681), mother of the Neo-​Assyrian king
Esarhaddon (681–​669) and grandmother of Ashurbanipal (668–​627), is the best documented
and in all probability most influential royal woman of the Neo-​Assyrian period.40 It was often
suggested that Naqi ͗a was the driving force behind Sennarcherib’s installment of Esarhaddon
as crown prince. This was a truly exceptional case, as Esarhaddon was one of Sennacherib’s
younger sons and most probably, even as a young man, suffered from an illness that would later
kill him.41 Sickness was often interpreted as a sign of divine wrath in Mesopotamia; therefore,
it was a severe obstacle for a claimant to the throne and any sickness of the king could be used
to question his status as the darling of the gods. Maybe we will never know what the reasons
for Esarhaddon’s promotion were, but we are sure about the results of Sennacherib’s decision.
Sennacherib was assassinated by his other sons and Esarhaddon had to fight his brothers in
order to be enthroned. While the rebellion was going on, Naqi ͗a explored the future of her
son by asking for prophetic messages, something that was usually a privilege of the kings. The
answer highlights the role of Ishtar, here called the Lady of Arbela, and the privileged position
of Naqi ͗a:

I am the Lady of Arbela! To the king’s mother, since you implored me, saying: “The
one on the right and the other on the left you have placed in your lap. My own off-
spring you expelled to roam the steppe!” No, king, fear not! Yours is the kingdom,
yours is the power! By the mouth of Aḫat-​abiša, a woman from Arbela.
(text 75, lines v 12–​25 of SAA 9, 1.8)42

Seemingly, the prophecy was right: it took Esarhaddon only two months to defeat his
brothers and he was enthroned as Assyrian king.43 In this text Naqi ͗a is already designated as
queen mother; according to Melville this was “the highest rank a woman could achieve.”44
In earlier research Naqi ͗a was often seen as the strong woman behind a weak, sick, and
superstitious king. Newer research has demonstrated that despite all of his problems, Esarhaddon
was a capable ruler, who brought the Neo-​Assyrian Empire to its maximal extension and
pacified Babylonia, at least for a while.45 During his reign Naqi ͗a became really powerful and
commissioned her own building inscription. To undertake large building projects and praise
them in inscriptions is typical for kings, but extraordinary for a royal woman. The inscription
introduces Naqi ͗a in a bombastic tone, which is quite typical for inscriptions commissioned
by kings:

I, Naqi ͗a … wife of Sennacherib, king of the world, king of Assyria, daughter-​in-​law

of Sargon [II], king of the world, king of Assyria, mother of Esarhaddon, king of the
world [and] king of Assyria; the gods Aššur, Sîn, Šamaš, Nabû, and Marduk, Ištar of
Niniveh, [and] Ištar of Arbela … He [Essarhaddon] gave to me as my lordly share the
inhabitants of conquered land, foes plundered by his bow. I made them carry hoe
[and] basket and they made bricks. I … a cleared tract of land in the citadel of [the
city of] Nineveh, behind the temple of the gods Sîn and Šamaš, for a royal residence
of Esarhaddon, my beloved son …
(Leichty 2011: 315–​16 (text 2003))

We can clearly see that Naqi ͗a held an extraordinarily powerful position during the reign of her
son and this continued even after Esarhaddon’s death. She was eager to assure the enthronement

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Invisible Mesopotamian royal women?

of her grandson Assurbanipal. The loyalty treaty that was intended to secure his reign is called
the treaty of Zakutu, another name of Naqi ͗a. Its first lines read:

The treaty of Zakutu, the queen of Sannacherib, king of Assyria, mother of Esarhaddon,
king of Assyria, with Šamaš-​šumu-​ukin, his equal brother, with Šamaš-​metu-​uballiṭ
and the rest of his brothers, with the royal seed, with the magnates and the governors,
the bearded and the eunuchs, the royal entourage, with the exempts and all who
enter the Palace, with Assyrians high and low: Anyone who (is included) in this treaty
which Queen Zakutu has concluded with the whole nation concerning her favorite
grandson Assurbanipal […]
(SAA 8, 2, lines 1–​9)46

That Naqi ͗a was able to conclude a treaty with the most powerful persons throughout the
empire and to establish her favorite grandson on the throne is clear evidence for her powerful
position, even if she simply continued the plans she had made earlier with Esarhaddon.47 It
seems that Naqi ͗a died shortly after Assurbanipal was enthroned as king.

Adad-​guppi
Adad-​guppi was the mother of the last Neo-​Babylonian king Nabonidus (556–​539 BCE) and
most details about her are known from a pseudo-​autobiographical text, which was most prob-
ably composed after her death.48 The text, written in the first person, informs us about the
long life of Adad-​guppi. The text emphasizes her special relationship to the moon good Sin, to
whom Adad-​guppi dedicated her life:

When in my dreams his hands were set (upon me), Sîn the king of gods spoke to me
thus: “The return of the gods is because of you. I will place the dwelling in Harran
in the hands of Nabonidus your son. He will construct Ehulhul and make perfect
its work.”
(Svärd 2019: 56 )

Earlier, the text recounted that the city of Harran was destroyed in 610, the destruction that
made it necessary to reconstruct or at least to renovate the temple Ehulhul. It is not the king
himself who receives the dream about his divine mission, but the dream is revealed to his mother
who takes the role of a mediator between the god and her son.The reason for stressing the role of
his mother might be that Nabonidus seemingly had no right to the throne through his paternal
line, so he focused on his wise mother who had closer ties to his predecessor on the throne.
Although Adad-​guppi was not the daughter of one of the earlier kings, she claims to have had
such a close relationship to the former kings that they elevated her to the status of a daughter. She
repaid this treatment by taking care of the offerings for the kings after their deaths.49
According to her autobiography, Adad-​guppi played an important role as an advisor and sup-
porter of her son, the king Nabonidus.There was not much reason for her son to exaggerate the
role of his mother after her death, so her assertion is likely correct.

Conclusion
This short chapter has demonstrated that, despite all the source problems, we can find evidence
for powerful royal women in different epochs of Mesopotamian history. Royal women had

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privileged access to the most powerful men of their times, and some of them used this access
to gain wealth and influence. Royal women often gained influence through their intimate
relationship to the king and their role as advisors. For instance, we clearly saw in the case of
Naqi ͗a, that royal women could be so rich and powerful that they were even able to construct
a palace. Returning to the title of this chapter, we could conclude that Mesopotamian royal
woman remain invisible to us, in many cases, because their activities are usually not reflected
in the official inscriptions. The few cases where we have ample evidence, could lead us to the
conclusion that queens were not invisible in antiquity itself and that royal women always played
an important role in Mesopotamian kingship and its public representation. The evidence from
the Neo-​Assyrian Empire even allows us to see developments and changes in the role of royal
women over time. Svärd concludes that the strong emphasis on the family line of the ruling
dynasty in Neo-​Assyrian times fostered the status of royal women.50 The case of Adad-​guppi
also demonstrates the role of women in taking care of the royal family, which included the
deceased predecessors of the king as well. To conclude: while royal woman mostly played the
Ninsun-​role of a loving mother, extraordinary circumstances could lead them to execute power
in a more direct way, more appropriate to Inanna/​Ishtar than to Ninsun.

Notes
1 See Diekmann 2017: 70–​130 for a detailed analysis of the decipherment of cuneiform and the early
years of Assyriology.
2 See Veldhuis 2012 for an analysis of the development of cuneiform script.
3 Michalowski 2000.
4 See the contributions in Brisch 2012 for a discussion of various aspects of Mesopotamian kingship.
5 Barjamovic 2004.
6 See Svärd 2015a: 39.
7 For the motif of the king being breastfed by a goddess, see Selz 2018. Westenholz 2000 discusses the
role of the king as Inanna’s lover.
8 Wilcke 1998, 502–​3.
9 See George 2003 for an edition and translation of the text with extensive commentary.
10 Svärd 2019.
11 George 2003: 553–​5.
12 Harris 1991.
13 On this god, see Espak 2015.
14 For an edition and translation of the text, see Hurowitz 1995.
15 Westenholz 2000.
16 Abusch 1986.
17 Fink 2017.
18 For a detailed analysis of the situation in Neo-​Assyrian times, see Svärd 2015a, 61–​74.
19 Parpola 2017.
20 See Rollinger 2010 for a discussion of the figure of Semiramis and possible connections to the Neo-​
Assyrian queen Sammu-​ramat.
21 However, Steinkeller 2013 could demonstrate that far-​reaching military activities were undertaken by
the early kings of Kish.
22 Glassner 2004: 123.
23 See Worthington 2009: 133–​4.
24 Glassner 2004: 123.
25 Glassner 2004: 263.
26 Glassner 2004: 267.
27 See Foster 2016.
28 See, for example, in the “catalogue of texts and authors” published in Lambert 1962.
29 For a discussion of the evidence for Enheduanna’s authorship, see Sjöberg 1969: 5; and Zgoll 1997: 181–​
2 with further references.

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30 On the history of this composition, see Espak 2019.

31 Translation from Sjöberg 1969: 49.
32 See Radner 2011 for a detailed analysis of competition in the Neo-​Assyrian Empire.
33 For an edition, see Zgoll 1997.
34 Zgoll 1997: 118.
35 Zgoll 1997: 99–​107.
36 See Fink 2016, 58–​61.
37 For a history of the discussion, see Svärd 2015a: 49–​51.
38 There are two more texts that mention Sammu-​ramat; for a discussion of them, see Svärd 2015a: 50.
39 Rollinger 2010.
40 Sarah Melville dedicated a whole monograph to her: Melville 1999.
41 Melville 1999: 22–​3.
42 Translation from Nissinen 2019: 119.
43 On this episode, see Frahm 1997: 18–​19 and Parpola 2015.
44 Melville 1999: 31.
45 Melville 1999: 31–​32.
46 Translation from Parpola and Watanabe 1988: 62.
47 Melville 1999: 89–​90.
48 Beaulieu 1989: 68.
49 Svärd 2019: 56–​8.
50 Svärd 2015b.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

The Pennsylvanian Sumerian Dictionary http://​psd.museum.upenn.edu/​nepsd-​frame.html (accessed

ePSD 
June 9, 2020).
SAA State Archives of Assyria, Helsinki.

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Glassner, J.-​J. 2004. Mesopotamian Chronicles. Atlanta.
Grayson, A.K. 1996. Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium BC II (858–​745 BC). Toronto.
Harris, R. 1991.“Inanna-​Ishtar as Paradox and a Coincidence of Opposites.” History of Religions 30: 261–​78.
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Solving Riddles and Untying Knots. Winona Lake and Indiana, 543–​58.
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Leichty, E. 2011. The Inscriptions of Esarhaddon, King of Assyria (680–​669 BC). Winona Lake and Indiana.
Melville, S. 1999. The Role of Naqia/​Zakutu in Sargonid Politics. Helsinki.
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Nissinen, M. 2019. Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East. Atlanta.
Parpola, S. 2015. “De Moord op Sanherib en de Opkomst van Esarhaddon, Koning van Assyrië.” Phoenix
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Parpola, S. 2017. Assyrian Royal Rituals and Cultic Texts. Helsinki.
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Rollinger, R. 2010. “Semiramis.” Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie 12: 383–​6.
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ACHAIMENID WOMEN
Maria Brosius

“[B]‌ecause Atossa was all powerful” (Gr. pan krátos; Hdt. 7.3.43). With this statement Herodotos
passed his verdict about a Persian royal woman, in this case the daughter of Kyros the Great
and the wife of Dareios I. Herodotos characterized her as “all powerful” because she exercised
her influence over the king and interfered with royal politics. According to the Greek his-
torian, Atossa ensured that her son Xerxes became the heir to the throne, rather than Dareios’
firstborn son Artobarzanes, the son of the daughter of the Persian noble Gobryas whom he
had married before he became king. Herodotos also alleged that Atossa instigated Dareios I to
undertake the campaign against Greece in order for her to obtain foreign slaves (Hdt. 3.134.1).
Women’s influence over the royal succession and meddling in political affairs thus became the
key characteristics of Achaimenid women in Greek sources.
In the view of Herodotos and his successors, Atossa’s power was not an exception among
Persian royal women: Amestris, the daughter of Otanes and wife of Xerxes I, exercised such
influence at the royal court that she could exact her revenge on the family of Xerxes’ brother
Masistes which, in turn, caused him to rebel against the king (Hdt. 9.114–​119). As King’s
Mother at the court of her son Artaxerxes I, she is alleged to have used her power to avenge
the death of her son Achaimenes, who had governed the satrapy of Egypt during the rebel-
lion of 465–​455 BCE (Ktesias FGrH 688 F14). Parysatis, the daughter of Artaxerxes I and the
Babylonian Andria, is said to have been so powerful that her husband, Dareios II, relied on
her for any decision-​making (Ktesias FGrH 688 F15). Parysatis’ ability to interfere in politics
became particularly apparent when she supported her son Kyros the Younger in his rebellion
against Artaxerxes II, while her vindictiveness seemingly knew no bounds when she intrigued
until those responsible for her son’s death at the battle of Kounaxa in 401 had been killed
(Ktesias FGrH 688 F16; Plut. Art.14.10, 16.1, 17.1, 32.1). She was involved in the punishment of
the family of Teritouchmes (Ktesias FGrH 688 F15), and finally, resenting her daughter-​in-​law
Stateira, daughter of the Persian noble Hydarnes, whether for personal reasons or perceiving
her family as a political threat, instigated her death by having her poisoned (Deinon FGrH
690 F15b; Plut. Art.19.2–​3). This catalog of Persian royal women exerting power at the royal
court and, by all accounts, acting without (male) control or restraint shaped the Greek view of
Achaimenid women. Historical reality, however, may have been rather different.

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As will be argued below, a hierarchical structure defined the royal and noble women of
the Achaimenid period (550–​330 BCE). This structure determined their ability to act, involve
themselves in matters related to the court and the stability of the kingship. They owned estates
and employed workforces in their service, remunerated by rations from their own estates. Rather
than being confined to the palace women traveled throughout the empire.To mark his affection
for his favorite wife Irtašduna/​Artystone, Dareios I ordered a gold statue of her (Hdt. 7.69.2), a
clear indication that women were depicted in Achaimenid art.
Near-​Eastern and Greek sources clearly recognize a hierarchy among Persian royal women,
at the top of which were the King’s Mother and the King’s Wife.The latter was defined through
her being the mother of the heir to the throne, and thereby the future King’s Mother. As
King’s Wife she outranked other women of the polygamous Achaimenid kings. Together with
the king’s daughters, as well as his sisters, they formed the core of the female royal household;
Neo-​Assyrian and Neo-​Babylonian evidence used the collective term of reference, “woman of
the palace” (Bab. ša ekalli) to describe royal women at the court. The expression is also used in
Babylonian documents to refer to Persian royal women (BE 9 28). Further female members will
have included the wives and daughters of the king’s brothers and sons.Texts from the Persepolis
Fortification archive written in Elamite refer to royal women collectively as dukšišp, “princesses”
(PFa 31), though we may recognize the terms of reference to the king, i.e. the King’s Mother,
the King’s Wife, and the King’s Daughter (El. sunki pakri; PFa 5) as titles as well.1 Their status
was characterized by privileges as well as official duties, by landownership and entrepreneurial
activities.
There is no doubt that any power royal women may have held was dependent on their
relative position or closeness to the king. In the case of Atossa and Artystone, their importance
for Dareios I was their descent from Kyros the Great and Kassandane (Hdt. 3.1.1, 88.2–​3), this
marriage itself the union between the clan of the Pasargadai and the family of the Achaimenids.
Parmys, daughter of Bardiya and niece of Kambyses II, likewise held a crucial position as Kyros’
granddaughter. Following his ambiguous succession to the throne, and in an effort to legitimize
his reign, Dareios I married all three princesses, as otherwise their offspring could claim a direct
link to the dynasty’s founder and thus jeopardize Dareios’ kingship. The strategic move to con-
clude marriage alliances between the king and members of the Persian nobility that we observe
as early as the marriage of Kyros the Great leads us to a central “purpose” of royal women as
strengthening the bond between the king and the nobility. Within this scheme they were but
pawns of their male relatives, who negotiated the marriage alliances; they themselves would
have had no say in the matter.
The practice of international diplomatic marriages is well attested in ancient Near-​Eastern
and eastern Mediterranean societies. Treaties were confirmed by a marriage alliance between
one treaty partner and the daughter of the other. In the sixth century BCE, Alyattes of Sardeis
gave his daughter Ayrenis in marriage to Ištumegu/​Astyages the son of Kyaxares of Media
(Hdt. 1.74.4). Alyattes’ alliance with Nabu-​kudurri-​usur/​Nebuchadnezzar II resulted in another
daughter, Amytis, being married to the Babylonian king (Berossos FGrH 680 F8). Kašša, the
daughter of Nebuchadnezzar II was married to Nergal-​šur-​usur/​Neriglissar, son of Nabu-​epir-​
la, governor of Puqudu (area along the Tigris in central and northern Babylonia) who usurped
the throne after Nebuchadnezzar’s death.2 The implication that the custom of diplomatic
marriage continued in the early Persian period is made by Ktesias’ claim that Kyros married the
daughter of Astyages after his victory over the Median king (Ktesias FGrH 688 F9), and is equally
apparent in Herodotos’ statement that Kambyses II wanted to marry the daughter of Amasis of
Egypt (Hdt. 3.1–​2). The alternative versions offered for both kings by Herodotos, namely that
Astyages had already married his daughter Mandane to Kambyses I (Hdt. 1.107.1), or similarly,

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that Kyros II had married an Egyptian princess who became the mother of Kambyses II (Hdt.
3.2.1), all suggest that, in the early stages of the empire, diplomatic marriage alliances continued.
Whatever the historical reality of these versions, parallel to these marriages of international
diplomacy, we observe the beginning of dynastic marriages among Persian kings and members
of the Persian nobility. As a member of the Pasargadai tribe (Hdt. 1.125.3), Kyros II had married
Kassandane, the daughter of Pharnaspes, a member of the Achaimenid clan (Hdt. 3.1.1). These
two lines were to become intrinsically intertwined under Dareios I. Dareios himself was the
son of Hystaspes, a brother of Pharnaspes. One of Dareios’ sisters was married to Otanes (Hdt.
7.82), his cousin. Otanes’ sister Phaidyme, meanwhile, had first been married to Kambyses
II and then to Bardiya (Hdt. 3.68.3). The two families clearly sought to strengthen the bond
between them over the reigns of three kings. Dareios I pursued the same policy, though he or
his father Hystaspes also created a bond with another Persian noble clan, that of Gobryas the
Patichoraean. One of Hystaspes’ daughters was married to this Persian noble (Hdt. 7.5.1), while
Dareios himself, even before he ascended to the kingship, had married a daughter of Gobryas
with whom he had a son, Artobarzanes (Hdt. 7.2.2). As king, Dareios married Phaidyme, a
daughter of Otanes (Hdt. 3.88.4).
In all these instances of royal marriage alliances, nothing suggests that any of the royal women
had a say in the matter; they had no choice but to accept their fate as members of the royal
household or of the Persian nobility. What we may note at this point, though, is that, apart from
the international alliances, dynastic marriages were concluded between the king and women
belonging to the Persian elite, evidently a mark for a “proper” King’s Wife and future King’s
Mother. Yet not even at the well-​organized Achaimenid court did things always go according
to plan; designated heirs to the throne could die before they ascended to the throne and kings
might not have sons. The latter scenario arose with Kambyses II and Bardiya, neither of whom
produced a son and heir. It created a power vacuum that allowed Dareios I to succeed to the
throne.
Dareios must have ensured that the bond between the royal family and that of the nobles
Otanes and Gobryas was maintained in the next generation. His heir to the throne Xerxes
I was married to Otanes’ daughter Amestris (Hdt. 7.61.2), while Xerxes’ sister Artazostre
became the wife of Gobryas’ son Mardonios (Hdt. 6.43.1; PFa 5). It is with the murders in
465 BCE of Xerxes I and that of Dareios, his designated heir to the throne, that we observe
the consequences of palace intrigue at the Achaimenid court for securing the royal Persian
line. Following Dareios’ murder, several brothers competed for the throne: Sogdianos, Arsites,
and Ochos, the latter of whom succeeded to the throne, taking the throne name Artaxerxes
I. The designated heir, Dareios, had already been married to his cousin Artaÿnte (Hdt. 9.108.1).
Artaxerxes’ wife, Damaspia, remains unknown beyond the fact that she was the mother of the
heir to the throne, Xerxes II, and that she died on the same day as Artaxerxes I himself (Ktesias
FGrH 688 F15).Yet Xerxes II, too, passed away, having been king for only 45 days, allowing his
half-​brother Ochos (Bab. Umasu), himself the son of the king and the Babylonian Kosmartidene,
to succeed to the throne in 424/​423 BCE, taking the throne-​name Dareios II. Up to this point
Ochos had been satrap of Hyrkania and was already married to his half-​sister, Parysatis. Her
mother, Andria, was of Babylonian origin and accordingly must have been part of the female
royal household (Ktesias FGrH 688 F15).This is the only marriage of an Achaimenid king with
a non-​Persian female and can be explained by the fact that royal sons not born of the King’s
Wife and thus technically not eligible for the throne, were able to marry half-​sisters within the
extended royal family. Parysatis (and Andria for that matter) descended from a high-​ranking
Babylonian family: documents from the bank house of the Murašu family in Babylon attest
to the ownership of estates and property, managed and administered by officials in Parysatis’

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service. Unfortunately, as her marriage to an Achaimenid prince seems to have been an excep-
tion, it is difficult to say how this marriage came about and whether the marriages of royal
half-​siblings reflect a general practice.
Parysatis’ surprise elevation to King’s Wife meant that in time, at Artaxerxes II’s court, she
became King’s Mother. Both Ktesias and Xenophon describe the machinations of Parysatis as
a King’s Mother at considerable length: she favored her younger son Kyros over the king and
effectively supported Kyros’ rebellion by making her estates in Trans-​Euphrates available to him
and his mercenary army (Xen. An.1.4.9). When Kyros’ attempt at overthrowing the king failed
and he was killed in his battle against Artaxerxes II at Kounaxa, Parysatis went on a relentless
path of revenge until those responsible for Kyros’ death had been killed.
A closer look at the activities of Achaimenid royal and noble women as described in the
Greek sources may allow us to explain their actions in a more nuanced manner. In the case of
Atossa, Herodotos’ claim that the King’s Wife had any influence over the choice of heir is highly
unlikely. Xerxes was the first son born to Dareios I while he was king, and thus, he was born
“to the purple.” This timing of his birth nullified any claim by a son born before his father was
king, and accordingly there was never a question of Artobazanes succeeding to the kingship.The
notion that Atossa instigated Dareios I to undertake the campaign to Greece in order for her to
obtain Greek slaves as servants seems highly unlikely, given the fact that Herodotos places the
episode before 513 BCE, when Dareios undertook the Skythian campaign, and Atossa would
have needed to wait for over 20 years to obtain foreign slaves. His claim also completely omits
the political circumstances which led to the punitive campaign of 490 BCE, or the fact that it
was conducted under the command of two generals, Datis and Artaphernes, rather than being
led by the king himself.
What Herodotos aims to achieve with these episodes is to demonstrate the alleged influ-
ence of royal women over the king, and that this influence per se was negative. This becomes
no more evident than in his depiction of Xerxes’ wife Amestris and in Ktesias’ and Plutarch’s
description of her as well as of Parysatis, the wife of Dareios II. Amestris exacted a cruel revenge
on the family of Masistes when she tortured Masistes’ wife. Hurt pride was at the base of her
action, since she felt wronged when Xerxes I gave his mistress and niece Artaÿnte (the daughter
of Masistes) a robe that Amestris herself had woven for the king. Learning about the betrayal,
she had Artaÿnte’s mother mutilated in a manner used for rebels. Why Amestris’ revenge was
directed against her, rather than Artaÿnte, remains a matter of debate. Was it because she had
been the initial object of Xerxes’ affections, or because, as Artaÿnte’s mother, she had failed to
keep her daughter under control? Or was Artaÿnte spared because she was the wife of the future
king? Still, in reaction to Amestris’ deed, Masistes and his sons fled to their satrapy Baktria to
stage a revolt, but he and his sons were killed by royal troops.
Was Amestris indeed so powerful that hurt pride led her to destroy a family that was so
closely related to the king? The complexity of the story has allowed scholars to suggest that it
may be the synopsis of at least two different narrative strands, one a palace intrigue, the other
a revolt.3 Handing over the royal robe to his brother’s family might have been a symbolic ges-
ture which indicated that Xerxes meant to pass royal power on to his brother, and that Amestris
fought to secure the throne for her son. Masistes’ revolt may have been staged after the deaths
of Xerxes I and of Dareios, after which a struggle for the throne ensued among other royal sons.
The key narrative components Herodotos identified earlier appear again now: the King’s Wife
interfering with the succession and being the cause for a military campaign, or, in this case,
a rebellion.
Amestris’ trail of destruction continued when she became the King’s Mother at the court
of her son Artaxerxes I. When her son Achaimenes, the satrap of Egypt, was killed during the

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rebellion of 465–​455 BCE, she did not rest until she had avenged his death by having the leader
of that rebellion, Inaros, as well as 50 Greeks in his service, killed (Ktesias FGrH 699 F14). The
same fate was to await Alkides, who was responsible for killing her grandson Zopyros after he
had rebelled against the king (FGrH 688 F14). And in order to avenge her daughter Amytis,
who had been involved in an intimate relationship with the court physician Apollonides of Kos,
Amestris saw to it that Apollonides was tortured to death on the orders of Artaxerxes I (Ktesias
FGrH 688 F14).
Ktesias provides us with a similarly cruel biography of Parysatis. Her power was so substantial
that her husband, her half-​brother Dareios II, is said to have been entirely dependent on her for
any decision-​making. This was the case when Dareios II’s half-​brothers, Sogdianos and Arsites,
attempted to ascend to the throne. Later, as the King’s Mother at the court of Artaxerxes II,
her influence went as far as supporting the rebellion of Kyros the Younger, whom she favored
over Artaxerxes as king. When Kyros died in battle, Parysatis did not rest until those respon-
sible for his death had been killed. Due to her interference, Artyphios, son of Megabyxos, was
killed when he threatened the kingship, and the family of the Persian noble Teritouchmes son
of Hydarnes was eliminated. Having at first saved the life of Artaxerxes’ wife Stateira, a sister
of Teritouchmes, she later conspired to have her killed by poison. Finally, Parysatis was held
responsible for approving of an incestuous act, the union between her son Artaxerxes I and her
granddaughter Atossa (Plut. Art. 23.3).
What emerges from this catalog of destructive behavior is that royal women were linked
to palace intrigue, caused upheaval and rebellion, and jeopardized the stability of the empire.
Plutarch’s claim of an incestuous union between father and daughter approved of by the King’s
Mother adds a despicable detail which reveals the immoral behavior of the Persian king and
his court. Whether royal women could indeed exact that level of revenge, whether they had
the power to eliminate some or all members of a noble family or those considered a threat to
the king, will remain an open question. The fact that Greek writers focused on palace intrigues
and women in their writing about Persia, and that women appear consistently in their works
as the instigators of war and rebellion, of palace intrigue and acts of revenge, raises our suspi-
cion. Greek writers may have employed the description of such stereotypical behavior for his-
toriographical reasons. Not only were, in the Greek view, the lives of Persian royal women the
antithesis of those of Greek women, but their stereotyped depiction also served to underscore
the immoral and decadent practices of another, hostile culture.
Closer inspection of these allegedly cruel actions may allow a different view. Parysatis’ revenge
on the family of Hydarnes arose when Teritouchmes rejected the king’s daughter Amestris in
favor of his half-​sister Roxane (Ktesias FGrH 688 F15 (54–​55); this rejection amounted to an
affront to the king Dareios II, who accordingly sentenced Teritouchmes to death. There are
contradictory versions regarding the fate of the rest of Hydarnes’ family, though Plutarch claims
that all other members were allowed to live. Artaxerxes I prevented Stateira’s death by asking
his mother to spare her. In the case of Parysatis, both the (unnamed) Karian and Mithridates
were accused of disloyalty against the king, since they claimed that they had killed Kyros,
even though the official court version asserted that Artaxerxes I himself had killed his brother.
Artaxerxes I, informed about these two men’s disloyalty, in one case through one of Parysatis’
eunuchs, condemned them to death. Rather than regarding this as an act of revenge on Parysatis’
part, one could argue that she acted appropriately as the King’s Mother whose duty it was to
protect the king and the kingship. Effectively, Parysatis had no say in the matter of Mithridates’
killing. Likewise, the Karian had already been sentenced to death by Artaxerxes, before Parysatis
requested to determine which type of death he was to suffer. In the matter of Masabates’ death,
the man who had mutilated Kyros’ body, Parysatis waited until a situation had arisen in which

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the king was bound to keep his word and thus had to grant her wish to hand Masabates over
to her. Certain rules operated in the way palace affairs were handled and royal women had to
adhere to these rules.
There were clearly limits as to how royal women could act, and it seems a case in point that
Parysatis was forced into Babylonian exile after she had killed Artaxerxes’ wife (Plut.Art.19.2–​7).
But, as her first intervention shows, there was also another side to their actions: royal women
could save lives. This is the case with Amestris, who intervened on behalf of her son-​in-​
law Megabyxos, whom Artaxerxes I had sent into exile, after he staged a rebellion in Trans-​
Euphrates following the death of Inaros (Ktesias FGrH 688 F14 (39)). The king sent several
embassies to him in order to end the conflict. One of these embassies included Amestris. The
conflict was finally resolved through Amestris’ daughter Amytis, the wife of Megabyxos, and her
husband was allowed to return to the court. Both women intervened a second time on behalf
of Megabyxos, after a mishap during a hunt in which Megabyxos had shot the first arrow even
though that was the king’s privilege. The king sentenced him to be beheaded, but the women
were able to alter the sentence: Megabyxos was sent into exile at the Red Sea instead. In time,
and thanks to Amestris and Amytis, Megabyxos’ honor was restored and once again he became
a King’s Friend and was re-​admitted to the King’s Table, enjoying the privilege of belonging to
the close court circle, being bestowed with gifts, and permitted to attend royal banquets (Ktesias
FGrH 688 F14 (41)).
Interestingly, Herodotos tells us of two other incidents in which Persian noble women
intervened with the king on behalf of family members. The wife of Intaphernes went to the
palace in the hope to be admitted to an audience with the king after Intaphernes had been
accused of treason and he and his male family members were captured. Intaphernes’ wife asked
the king to spare the life of her brother and succeeded in freeing him as well as her eldest son
(Hdt. 3.119.2). Likewise, the wife of Teaspes asked Xerxes I to spare the life of her son Sataspes,
who had been charged with violating the daughter of Zopyros and sentenced to death (Hdt.
4.43.2). Teaspes’ wife was a sister of Dareios, and thereby Xerxes’ aunt. She succeeded in having
the sentence altered: Sataspes was ordered to sail around Libya. When, however, he failed do as
ordered, the original sentence was upheld and Sataspes was impaled. These incidents indicate
that women of the royal household were able to intervene on behalf of members of their family.
Their intervention could modify the verdict of the king and thus save a life. However, if the
conditions of this new verdict were not met, the original king’s verdict was once more in force.
One of the most intriguing questions relates to the names of royal women. It is clear from
the Near-​Eastern and Greek sources that Achaimenid kings took an official throne name which
replaced their personal name. Thus Ochus took the throne name Dareios II, Arsaces became
Artaxerxes II, and Umasu ascended the throne as Artaxerxes III.4 The repetition of royal names,
such as Kambyses, Kyros, Dareios, and Artaxerxes was undoubtedly undertaken with the inten-
tion of creating a link to the royal namesake, adhering to a dynastic policy, and expressing a
degree of continuity.Would there be a similar situation in terms of a change in women’s names?
There is some evidence that royal women, too, changed their names, but it is much harder to
extract its purpose.5
A striking case of an Achaimenid royal woman bearing two names is that of the Persian
woman Irdabama. Unknown in Greek sources, she features prominently in texts from the
Persepolis Fortification and the Treasury archives. However, her identity is still a matter of
debate, as none of the archival texts refer to her as dukšiš or identify her in relation to the king
or to a Persian nobleman. It has been suggested that she may have been the daughter of Gobryas
and Dareios’ first wife, or perhaps Dareios’ mother. Research on the Persepolis Fortification texts
has allowed the conclusion that a second name or title was used for her.6 This name, Abbamuš,

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is rendered Apame in Greek sources and recurs as the name of a daughter of Artaxerxes II who
was married to Pharnabazos (Plut. Art.27.7) and as that of a daughter of Spitamenes of Baktria,
who famously became the wife of Seleukos I and the mother of Antiochos I (Arr. Anab. 7.4.6).
Four cities bear her name. Her son Artabazos named one of his daughters after his mother.
She was married to the future Ptolemy I in 324 BCE, but was possibly abandoned soon after
Alexander’s death. Incidentally, this Apama is also known in Greek sources as Artakama.
The name Amestris (OP *Amāstrī-​) is given both to the daughter of Otanes married to
Xerxes I (Hdt. 7.61.2) and to a daughter of Dareios II (Ktesias FGrH F688 F15); a daughter
of Artaxerxes II of that name was married to Tiribazos (Plut. Art. 23.6). A niece of Dareios
III named Amestris/​Amastris was married to the Macedonian Krateros at the mass wedding
at Susa in 324 BCE, followed by a marriage to Dionysios of Herakleia (Diod. Sic. 20.109.7;
Polyaen. 6.12). A daughter of this union was named after her. In fact, this Achaimenid prin-
cess became one of the first royal women in the Hellenistic period to bear the title basilissa.
Amastris founded a city that bore her name and even minted coins with the Greek legend
basilissa Amastris.7
Atossa (OP *Utauθa, Av. Hutaosā) was the name of Kyros’ daughter and that of a daughter
of Artaxerxes II (Plut. Art. 23.6), while the name Mandane was given to one of Dareios I’s
daughters (Hdt. 7.78; Diod. Sic. 11.57.1). The name Parysatis (Bab. Purrušatu) reappears as that
of a daughter of Artaxerxes III (Curt. 3.13.12; Arr. Anab. 7.4.4). Finally, the name Stateira was
given to a daughter of Hydarnes and wife of Artaxerxes II (Ktesias FGrH 688 F15 (53)) as
well as to the wife of Dareios III (Plut. Alex. 30.3; Curt. 4.10.2). She too may have borne a
second name, as Greek sources also refer to her as Barsine. A daughter of this union, also named
Stateira, was married to Alexander in 324 BCE (Arr. Anab. 7.4.4). In terms of this evidence, only
Irdabama/​Abbamuš/​Apama and Barsine/​Stateira indicate a name change or the existence of a
second (official) name. This is too scant evidence to identify a practice of official names.Yet the
reappearance of several female personal names throughout the Achaimenid dynasty points at
least to a deliberate choice for the names of Persian royal and noble daughters.
The power and level of activity executed by Persian royal women needs to be seen in a his-
torical context which includes the Middle Elamite and Neo-​Elamite periods. This becomes
apparent in the artistic depiction of women as well as in the use of Neo-​Elamite seals in the
Achaimenid period. One such seal carved in the Neo-​Elamite style depicts a female wearing a
bobbed hairstyle and seated on a throne, receiving a female guest who stands before the seated
lady, separated by an incense burner (PFS 77*).The seal is accompanied by an inscription which
reads “I am Šeraš daughter of Hubanahpi.” Hubanahpi was a local Elamite ruler in the late sev-
enth century, and Šeraš, thus, a royal daughter. The fact that the seal depicts an audience scene
has allowed the conclusion that Elamite royal women did hold audiences, presumably allowing
other women to approach them. Further scenes similarly depicting a female audience scene but
carved in Achaimenid style suggest that Persian royal women adopted an Elamite court prac-
tice.8 Beyond the evidence on seals, female audience scenes can be identified on several stelai
from Western Asia Minor.9
We can only surmise these images to be a reflection of an historical reality that played itself
out in the Achaimenid palaces, and, as with satrapal life, was probably copied by the Persian
wives of the satraps in the provinces (and by extension by the wives of local rulers and city-​
kings).The acceptance of this view allows several conclusions. If Achaimenid women did indeed
hold audiences, not only did the Persian court model itself on Elamite predecessors, but it also
implies that they held a significant position at court, which allowed them to take their own
decisions in matters brought before them, or mediate between the visitor and the king (or
satrap) if they considered their case worthy of attention. Accordingly, women of the Achaimenid

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court must have held a degree of power and ability to make decisions that was independent
from the king.
Based on the female audience scenes, public or semi-​public appearances of royal women
must have taken place. Nehemiah, the wine steward of Artaxerxes I, remarked that the King’s
Wife was seated next to the king when he spoke about his wish to travel to Jerusalem (Neh.
2.1–​6) It is also attested that royal women traveled across the empire, receiving food rations
for their journey from the royal stores en route.10 Plutarch remarks on the fact that Stateira
traveled in a carriage with the curtains pulled back so that she could be seen (Plut. Art. 5.3).
Whether they joined royal banquets is more controversial. Herakleides of Kyme remarked that
the king dined with his wife and his mother (Herakleides of Kyme FGrH 689 F2; ap.Athen.
4.145c). Apparently women participated in the king’s banquets but had to leave at a certain
point (Herakleides of Kyme FGrH 689 F2; Plut. Mor. 140b).Yet, according to the Book of Esther,
the king’s wife Vashti was celebrating a banquet separate from that of her husband, when she was
then asked to join him (Book of Esther 1:9–​12).
As for other indicators of power, we are relying on archaeological material, most of which
originates outside Persis, the central province of the empire, or from the Middle and Neo-​
Elamite periods. We may infer from these that they reflect customs and practices followed
by Achaimenid royal women, but we need to exercise caution in doing so. In terms of dress
and appearance, there are strong indicators that royal women wore a crenelated crown and a
bobbed hairstyle. They wore a many-​folded dress held together by a long belt, seemingly iden-
tical to the dress worn by the Persian king on the audience relief of the apadana, the throne
hall, in Persepolis. A striking image of this appearance is a high relief figure of a Persian lady
from Egypt. Like the king and the Persian nobles, she wears a torque, earrings, and a bracelet.11
She is depicted fully frontal, a position we otherwise find only in the statue of Dareios I from
Susa. The intriguing aspect of this figure, however, is the position of her hands, which Margaret
Cool Root identified as a hand-​over-​wrist gesture known from Elamite art, specifically from
the bronze statue of queen Napirasu and from the reliefs at Šekaft-​e Salman.12 They all date to
the Middle Elamite period. The reliefs show the king, the queen, and the royal couple with a
son, presumably the heir to the throne, standing between them, facing to the right. All three
depictions appear in a religious context, which raises the question whether the hand-​over-​wrist
gesture observed in the Persian lady likewise carries a religious meaning. If so, this causes some
problems, since women do not appear in any religious context according to the Persepolis
Fortification texts. Alternatively, the gesture could have been adapted in Achaimenid art without
the religious connotation it had in Elamite art.
Two points are significant here. The first is the fact that this and other images of Persian
women suggest they wore a dress identical in style to that worn by the king and the Persian
nobility.The women’s dresses may have been woven from different fabric and may have differed
in color, but the style was identical. The fact that they were also depicted wearing a crown is
equally intriguing. Further examples can be found in a fourth-​century textile which was part
of a saddlecloth discovered in a tomb in Pazyryk.13 Two pairs of women can be seen standing
opposite one another, separated by an incense burner. The taller women wear a crown on a
bobbed hairstyle and a long dress with appliqué. The fabric was locally produced, emulating
the Achaimenid court style. Similarly, a fourth-​century funerary stele from Daskyleion shows
a banquet scene with a reclining male and his wife seated beside him on a high-​backed chair.
The depiction of seated women on Lydo-​Persian gems and finger rings show these women
crowned and wearing a many-​folded dress, but here their hair is gathered in a long braid falling
down their back. Still, this may allow us to regard the depictions as mirroring representations
from the center of rule; it is highly likely that women of the local elite in the provinces, wives

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of officials within the Persian high administrations, copied the Achaimenid style of Persian
royal women. The more difficult question is what these features indicate. Are we to understand
these as a signal that royal women and women of the Persian nobility were regarded as equal to
their male counterparts? Were the identical dress, hairstyle, and jewelry an expression of these
women’s status as equal to their husbands’ or sons’ status? If the extraordinary status of royal and
noble women was defined by their relation to the male, that is the king, the king’s brothers, and
sons who acted as satraps, were they meant to mirror their position?
Women’s power and ability to act was most tangible in the realm of landownership, employ-
ment of labor, and business transactions. This fact even caught the attention of Greek writers
and philosophers. Herodotos noted that the Egyptian town Anthylla provided the King’s Wife
with shoes (Hdt. 2.98.1). Plato commented on the property owned by Amestris as the King’s
Mother of Artaxerxes I (Plat. Alk. I 121c-​123c-​d). Xenophon noted the estates and villages
owned by the King’s Mother Parysatis in Trans-​Euphrates as well as in Media (Xen. An. 1.4.9).
Babylonian documents of the banking house of the Murašu family are primary evidence for
Parysatis’ landownership.14 From these texts is becomes clear that Parysatis leased her estates to
fief-​holders; the rent was collected by bailiffs working on her behalf.
One text (PBS 2/​1–​75) records the rent payment in the form of dates for a woman named
Madumitu who had rented the field to the Murašu bank. In a further text she is described as a
woman “from the house of (the woman) Amisiri.’” This lady owned land along the Euphrates–​
Nippur canal (BE 10 45), while a reservoir on a canal bordering on land belonging to the king
was named after her (CBS 5199). Amisiri’ shared her steward with Artaremu who has been
identified with Artarios, a son of Xerxes I and half-​brother of Artaxerxes I who was satrap of
Babylon.15 Without a doubt Amisiri’ was a royal woman; if we identify her with Amestris, wife
of Xerxes I, she must have lived a long time. Alternatively it has been suggested that she was
Artaremu/​Artarios’ wife. Two Babylonian documents, BE 9 28, dated to Year 31 of Artaxerxes
I, and BE 9 50, dated to year 36, refer to an estate belonging to a woman merely referred to
as “woman of the palace” (ša É.GAL). The rent was collected by the bailiff (Bab. ustarbaru)
Enlil-​šum-​iddin.
In Persis these estates were referred to as Elamite ulhi. Dareios’ wife Artystone, whose
name is rendered Irtašduna in the Persepolis texts, owned estates in Kukkannakan, Matannan,
and at Mirandu/​Uranduš. The transfer of foodstuffs, including wine and grain, was ordered
directly by her, authorized with her personal seal (PFS 38). Two officials in her service are
identified as Šalamana, who was based in Kukkannakan, and Datukka, who was based in
Mirandu/​Uranduš.
The economic activities of Irdabama are prominently represented. She owned at least one
estate at Šullake (PFa 27). Orders regarding foodstuffs from her estates were authorized with
her own seal (PFS 51). Likewise, she sealed orders for royal provisions at various places in Persis,
including Persepolis itself, Hidali, and Liduma, reaching as far as Susa (PF 737). The name
Irdabama features most prominently in connection with a workforce located at Tirazziš, which
has been identifed with modern Shiraz. Here she employed several workforces which can be
identified as belonging to her. One of these groups is a small workforce consisting of two women
and one man, and known variously as kurtaš Irdabamana (“workers of Irdabama”), abbakkanaš
Irdabamana, or simply as abbakkanašp. In a few instances they are known as matištukkašp. Their
rations are being handled by two officials who are in Irdabama’s service, Rašda (PFS 78) and
Uštana (PFS 36). These officials were also in charge of rations for Tirazziš-​based workers who
were being referred to as kurtaš Abbamušna (“workers of Abbamuš),” or abbakannuš Abbamušna.
Comparison of these groups of workers of Irdabama and workers of Abbamuš have allowed
the conclusion that the woman Abbamuš and Irdabama may be one and the same individual.

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Irdabama employed a large workforce in Tirrazziš, and it is tempting to argue that these were
engaged in the construction of a palace for her. Seventeen texts all identify these workers as
working in the service of Irdabama. In three texts, the workforce amounts to 480 workers (PF
1028, PF NN-​1068, PF NN-​1146), while a third records 429 workers (PF NN-​2054).16

Conclusion
What does this tell us about Persian royal women? Quite clearly, certain royal women held
considerable economic power within the empire, attested both for Persis and for other satrapies
such as Babylonia, Trans-​Euphrates, Media, and Egypt. The economic independence of these
women becomes evident in the fact that they owned a personal seal, had officials in their service,
and maintained their own workforce. Furthermore, the concentration of Irdabama’s workforce
at Tirrazziš and the suggestion that their purpose was the construction of her own palace allows
us to argue that royal women did indeed have their own palatial buildings. However actively
or inactively involved they were in landownership, land was rented from them and income
received. By all accounts they disposed of their income and produced freely and independ-
ently, without external interference or restriction. The implications of this fact are significant.
Royal women, as King’s Mothers and King’s Wives, as well as other female members of the
royal household, controlled their own wealth. Whether their estates and villages were linked
to their royal position and who had the right to inherit this wealth, are questions we cannot
answer at present. In many respects, it may be argued that the phenomenon of landownership of
Persian royal women may have been adopted from Babylonia. Seal ownership of royal women,
and the implication this has, are, of course also apparent in the Neo-​Elamite period, as well as
in the Neo-​Assyrian period. In that respect we may argue that the Persian practice followed
Near-​Eastern and Elamite predecessors. These women claimed a considerable amount of inde-
pendence and with that came their power of decision-​making and authority. This ability to act
must have extended to the wives of satraps as well as other female members of the royal family
married to Persian nobility.
Comparison with women in Mesopotamia is further justified when we look at the evidence
for Persian royal women’s participation in war. As part of the king’s entourage, women accom-
panied the king on campaigns. Most notably, Dareios III included them in his march against
Alexander III, leaving them at Damaskos after the battle of Issos, so that they were captured
and forced to join Alexander’s army train (Arr. Anab. 2.11.9–​10; Curt. 3.8.12; Plut. Alex. 24.1).
Women’s presence in the army is not unusual. Šammuaramat had accompanied her son Adad-​
nerari on his campaign against Ushpilulume/​Shupiluliuma, king of Kummuh (Boundary stone
of Adad-​Nerari),17 and the Nabonidus Chronicle records the death of the king’s wife after
Kyros’ conquest of Babylon in 539 (NCh 7: col. iii: 13–​14). Though she is not mentioned by
name, it is possible that this is a reference to the death of Kyros’ wife.
By all accounts, Achaimenid royal and noble women held a degree of power which enabled
them to act on behalf of family members. While they had no influence over their marriage
alliances, through their relation to the king certain women held audiences and intervened and
mediated at the court. It does not appear to be the case that they took an active role in political
decision-​making, but as part of the king’s entourage they accompanied the king on campaigns.
Whether they played any role within religious rites remains obscure. Economically, royal women
managed considerable wealth and employed administrative personnel and personal work forces
for their own building projects. In appearance they reflected the splendor and royalty of the
king and the Persian nobility.

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Notes
1 For titles of royal women see Brosius 1996: 21–​31.
2 See Beaulieu 1998.
3 Sancisi-​Weerdenburg 1983: 20–​33.
4 When Bessos declared himself king he claimed the throne-​name Artaxerxes IV.
5 For the occurrence of name changes in the Hellenistic period see Carney 1991: 154–​72.
6 Cf. Brosius 1996: 140–​1.
7 Imhoof-​Blumer 1885: 25.
8 Cf. Brosius 2010.
9 Cf. Brosius 2010.
10 For travel rations for Persian women see Brosius 1996: 96–​7.
11 The high relief figure of the Persian woman is now in the Brooklyn Museum (Acc. no. 63.67).
12 For Naparisu see Root 1979: 273; for a discussion of the reliefs at Šekaft-​e Salman see Álvarez-​Mon 2018.
13 The saddle cloth is in the State Heritage Museum (Inv. no. 1687/​100).
14 On the Murašu family firm see Pirngruber 2017: 47–​66; Cardascia 1951; Stolper 1985.
15 Lewis 1977: 18 and n. 94.
16 For a full discussion of the archive texts relating to workers of Irdabama see Brosius 1996: 129–​44.
17 On the boundary stele of Adad-​nerari III and Šamuramat see Zaccagnini 1993.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors and document collections not listed here are those found in the Oxford
Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

CBS Tablets in the Collection of the Babylonian Section of the University Museum, Philadelphia
PBS The Museum Publications of the Babylonian Section, University of Pennsylvania
PF Siglum for Persepolis Fortification Texts published in Hallock 1969
PFa Siglum for Persepolis Fortification Texts published in Hallock 1978
PFS Siglum for Persepolis Fortification Seal
PFS* Siglum for inscribed Persepolis Fortification Seal

Bibliography
Álvarez-​Mon, J. 2012. “Elamite Sculptural Reliefs from the Highlands.” In K. De Graef and J. Tavernier
(eds.), Susa and Elam: Archaeological, Historical, Philological and Geographical Perspectives. Leiden, 207–​48.
Álvarez-​Mon, J. 2018. “The Sculptural Arts of Elam.” In J. Alvarez-​Mon and G.P. Basello (eds.), The Elamite
World. London, 602–​23.
Beaulieu, P.-​A. 1998. “Ba’u-​asitu and Kaššaya. Daughters of Nebuchadnezzar II.” Orientalia 64: 173–​201.
Bigwood, J. 2009. “Incestuous’ Marriage in Achaemenid Iran: Myths and Realities.” Klio 91: 311–​41.
Boardman, J. and Vollenweider, E. 1970. Greek Gems and Finger Rings: Early Bronze Age to Late Classical.
London.
Brosius, M. 1996. Women in Ancient Persia (559–​331 BC). Oxford.
Brosius, M. 2010. “The Royal Audience Scene Reconsidered.” In J. Curtis and St.J. Simpson (eds.), The
World of Achaemenid Persia: The Diversity of Ancient Iran. London, 141–​52.
Burstein, S.M. 1978. The Babyloniaca of Berossus. Malibu.
Cameron, G.G. 1948. Persepolis Treasury Texts. Chicago.
Cardascia, G. 1951. Les archives de Murašu: une famille d’hommes d’affaires babyloniens à l’époque perse (455–​403
av. J.-​C.). Paris.
Carney, E.D. 1991. “‘What’s In a Name?’ The Emergence of a Title for Royal Women in the Hellenistic
Period.” In S.B. Pomeroy (ed.), Women’s History and Ancient History. Chapel Hill, 154–​72.
Garrison, M. and Root, M.C. 2001. Seals on the Persepolis Fortification Tablets. Chicago.
Grayson, A.K. 1975. Assyrian and Babylonian Chronicles. Locust Valley, NY.
Hallock, R.T. 1969. Persepolis Fortification Texts. Chicago.

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Hallock, R.T. 1978. “Selected Fortification Texts.” Cahiers de la Délégation Archéologique Française en Iran
8: 109–​36.
Imhoof-​Blumer, F. 1885. Porträtköpfe auf griechischen Münzen hellenistischer Zeit. Leipzig.
Lewis, D.M. 1977. Sparta and Persia. Leiden.
Pirngruber, R. 2017. The Economy of Late Achaemenid and Seleucid Babylonia. Cambridge.
Potts, D.T. 2016. The Archaeology of Elam: Formation and Transformation of an Ancient Iranian State. Cambridge.
Root, M.C. 1979. The King and Kingship in Achaemenid Art. Leiden.
Sancisi-​Weerdenburg, H. 1983. “Exit Atossa: Images of Women in Greek Historiography on Persia.” In
A. Cameron and A. Kuhrt (eds.), Images of Women in Antiquity. London. 20–​33.
Spycket, A. 1980. “Women in Persian art.” In D. Schmandt-​Besserat (ed.), Ancient Persia. The Art of an
Empire. Malibu, 43–​6.
Stolper, M.W. 1985. Entrepreneurs and Empire: The Murašû Archive, the Murašû Firm, and Persian Rule in
Babylonia. Istanbul.
Zaccagnini, C. 1993. “Notes on the Pazarcik Stela.” State Archives of Assyria Bulletin 7, 1: 53–​72.

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14
KARIAN ROYAL WOMEN AND
THE CREATION OF A ROYAL
IDENTITY
Stephen Ruzicka

There are three “Karian Royal Women”: Artemisia I of the sixth-​and fifth-​century BCE
Lygdamid dynasty of Halikarnassos, and Artemisia II and Ada of the fourth-​century Hekatomnid
dynasty, also of Halikarnassos after a move from inland Mylasa in the 370s.1 All exercised sole
power after their husbands’ deaths. Their husbands were in each case also their brothers. Rather
than investigating such adelphic marriages in various non-​Karian dynasties to cast light on the
Karian practice, I want to investigate the possible purpose of these brother–​sister marriages in
the context of their own settings and times.
Halikarnassos (modern Bodrum) was located on the Keramic Gulf on the southern edge of
the Halikarnassos Peninsula, which jutted out into the Aegean as the southwestern extremity
of Karia. Like other cities along the Karian coast, Halikarnassos had a mixed Greek and Karian
population, but it appears thoroughly Greek linguistically, politically, and culturally in the late
Archaic and Classical periods.
In the sixth century, as was the case in many Greek cities along the western edge of Anatolia,
Halikarnassos had a ruling tyrant, Lygdamis. We have no direct evidence about his beginnings
or activities as tyrant. Throughout much of the rest of Karia, including elsewhere on the
Halikarnassos peninsula, local dynasts exercised power on a hereditary basis, so whatever its
origins and however it was designated, the so-​called “tyranny” at Halikarnassos conformed to
the prevailing pattern in many nearby Greek cities and to the traditional Karian pattern of petty
dynasts as local rulers.
Having conquered the whole of Anatolia in the 540s, the Persians favored one-​man rule
in subject cities, since tyrants or dynasts could function efficiently under Persian governors
(satraps) as local officials responsible for gathering tribute and mustering and leading military
contingents levied for Persian service.The Persians kept such figures in power in Greek cities in
western Anatolia, including Halikarnassos, through the end of the sixth century, subordinating
Ionian and Karian tyrants and dynasts to the satrap at Sardeis. Then, between 499 and 494, the
so-​called Ionian Revolt, led initially by subject tyrants in Ionian Greek cities, but ultimately
involving subject populations all the way to Kypros, disrupted Persian authority. Persian puni-
tive measures ranged across Ionia and parts of Karia, leaving many cities burned and toppling
most still surviving tyrants (Hdt. 6.32). Almost uniquely, however, Halikarnassos’ tyrant family

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survived for at least two more generations, into the middle of the fifth century, probably an
indication that Lygdamid Halikarnassos had not participated in the revolt.
Artemisia (I), daughter of Lygdamis, is the best known of the Lygdamid “tyrants,” thanks to
Herodotos’ detailed description of her activities during Xerxes’ invasion of the Greek main-
land in 480. After identifying various contingents in the Persian fleet in 480, Persian fleet
commanders, and “the most famous” non-​Persian men on board the ships, Herodotos singles
out Artemisia for an extended introduction.

I find it absolutely amazing that she, a woman, should join the expedition against
Hellas. After her husband died, she held the tyranny, and then, though her son was
a young man of military age and she was not forced to do so at all, she went to
war, roused by her own determination and courage. Artemisia was the daughter of
Lygdamis, by race Halicarnassian on her father’s side, and part Cretan on her mother’s
side. She led the men of Halikarnassos, Kos, Nisyros, and Kalymna, and provided five
ships for the expedition. Of the entire navy, the ships she furnished were the most
highly esteemed after those of the Sidonians, and of all the counsel offered to the king
by the allies, hers was the best (Hdt. 7.99).

Herodotos follows the Persian fleet’s movements and activities up to the Battle of Salamis
without mentioning Artemisia again (although he has her state that she had performed significant
feats in naval battles off Euboia preceding the move to the Saronic Gulf), but he gives Artemisia a
special role in his account of the Battle of Salamis. She provides the speeches that frame the battle
story. In the first, she urges Xerxes to avoid a naval battle and invade the Peloponnese instead. In
the second, following Persian failure in the sea battle predicted by Artemisia, she advises Xerxes
to withdraw to Asia and leave his foremost general Mardonios to command further operations on
land, observing that any victory by Mardonios would still be attributed to Xerxes, while failure
would not jeopardize Xerxes’ power in Asia. Both speeches reflect sound military and political
strategic thinking, and they serve to establish Artemisia as the wisest of Xerxes’ subordinates.
In Herodotos’ account of the naval battle itself, Artemisia is also the most resourceful of
Xerxes’ subordinates, ramming and sinking a ship in her own contingent to deceive Attic
pursuers into believing that hers was a Greek ship or a deserting ship from the Persian side.
Herodotos concedes that he cannot say whether the ramming, which saved Artemisia from fur-
ther pursuit, was premeditated or accidental, but his main point is that, seen as premeditated, the
move immensely impressed Xerxes (Hdt. 8.68, 87–​8).
As Artemisia had advised, Xerxes departed for Asia after the Salamis defeat, dispatching his
remaining fleet to the Hellespont to secure the pontoon bridge needed to cross to Asia. Xerxes
showed great trust now in Artemisia, assigning her the special task of conveying his sons by ship
to Ephesos. The sons continued overland to rendezvous with Xerxes at Sardeis. Artemisia pre-
sumably returned to Halikarnassos from Ephesos. She does not appear in Herodotos’ account of
the Persian and Greek naval engagements which ended in the destruction of the Persian fleet in
the summer of 479.
That is all there is in the way of direct evidence, except for a remark in the pseudo-​
Hippokratic corpus that Artemisia at some time kept up a siege of Kos, the island city-​state
located off the tip of the Halikarnassos peninsula, until victorious (Ps.-​Hippokrates, Ep. 27.25).
If historical, this presumably took place before the 480 Persian campaign, since the contingent
Artemisia commanded in 480 included Koan ships.
What can we learn from this about Artemisia and the Lygdamids?2 First, family matters.
Though Herodotos does not identify Artemisia’s father Lygdamis explicitly as tyrant, the

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recurrence of the name in a later tyrant of Halikarnassos establishes Lygdamis I as tyrant.3 In the
next generation (that of Lygdamis’ daughter Artemisia and her husband), Lygdamis’ successor was
presumably his son. If, as Herodotos says, Artemisia held the tyranny after her husband’s death,
then we may infer that Artemisia’s husband was Lygdamis’ son and that Artemisia’s husband was
her brother or half-​brother. That is, at least in Artemisia’s case, the Lygdamids practiced brother–​
sister or adelphic marriage (her father married a Kretan woman). Herodotos does not identify
Artemisia’s husband by name, but if we accept the historicity of Artemisia’s adelphic marriage, the
report by the Suda that Artemisia (I) married her brother Maussollos, often treated as reflecting
confusion with the later Artemisia’s marriage to her brother Maussollos, merits consideration.4
There is no evidence for adelphic marriage as a regular Karian or Greek practice, so some-
thing unusual is happening here. Presumably, Lygdamis I arranged the marriage for some special
reason. The only possible explanation seems to be that such a marriage strategy insulated the
dynastic family from challenges by any local families who might gain a connection to the ruling
family through marriage. If Lygdamis was the first tyrant, then this adelphic marriage was a way
of securing the Lygdamid hold on the tyranny through the next generation and beyond. Persian
officials did not object to a woman exercising local power. Witness the case of Mania, widow
of Zenis, the dynast of Dardanos in Aeolis and hyparch (subordinate official) in the satrapy of
Hellespontine Phrygia toward the end of the fifth century. According to Xenophon, when Zenis
died, Mania visited Pharnabazos, satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, and argued that so long as she
performed the functions previously performed by Zenis, there was no reason why she should not
succeed her husband. Pharnabazos agreed, and, Xenophon reports, Mania performed exception-
ally well, even leading military campaigns of her own and at times accompanying Pharnabazos in
the field (Hell. 3.1.10–​15). This matches Artemisia’s situation and activities exactly.
When did Artemisia assume sole power? If we trust the reference to a successful siege of
Kos by Artemisia and date the siege sometime before 480, we might link it to the (voluntary)
departure from Kos by the tyrant Kadmos, most likely at the time of or just after the 490s Ionian
Revolt (Hdt. 7.163–​4). Artemisia may have exploited political confusion following the end of
Kadmos’ tyranny at Kos to bring it under her control or influence. If so, she evidently exercised
sole power in Halikarnassos by c. 490. Circumstantial considerations may bolster the case for
such a date. Artemisia’s command, not only of five Halikarnassian ships but also of the whole
contingent of ships from islands off the Halikarnassos Peninsula—​Kos, Nisyros, Kalymna—​and
her capable performance in 480 strongly suggest prior maritime experience and even expertise.
Right after the Persian defeat at Marathon in 490, the Persian king ordered new and massive
preparations for a large-​scale attack to avenge the defeat as quickly as possible. Herodotos
reports that Persian officials pressed Dareios’ demands on the subject populations with special
haste (7.1.1–​3). For subject Greek and other coastal cities, this meant the construction, outfit-
ting, and manning of ships and the training of crews on a hurry-​up basis. It is plausible to see
this as the beginning of Artemisia’s involvement in naval matters and to place her in sole power
by 490, giving her at least a decade of sole rule before the 480 campaign.
We can only guess the time of Artemisia’s death. Herodotos (of Halikarnassos) was in
his early life involved in an attempt to overthrow a later Lygdamind tyrant, Lygdamis II or
Pisendelis. Herodotos’ uncle Panyassis perished in the attempt and Herodotos went into exile
for a time (Suda, s.v. “Herodotos”).We might expect animus against the Lygdamids and specific-
ally against Artemisia, the ruling Lygdamid during the 480s, to surface in Herodotos’ history. But
Herodotos treats Artemisia with respect and admiration. This suggests that she did not for him
embody Lygdamid rule in Halikarnassos, perhaps because she died before he reached adulthood.
Thus, if Herodotos was born c. 484 and Artemisia was active through 480, she may not have
survived through the 470s.

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Syll345, an inscription from the time of Lygdamis II, who succeeded Artemisia’s son Pisendelis
as tyrant, may shed some light on Lygdamid rule in Halikarnassos. Dated approximately 465–​
450, the inscription specifies the procedure for settling property disputes in the aftermath (it
appears) of the return of exiles to Halikarnassos. It begins by stating “These are the decisions of
the syllogos of Halikarnassians and Salmakitai, as well as Lygdamis.”5 Halikarnassos and Salmakis
were evidently originally two separate, largely Greek poleis, located quite close to each other,
Salmakis to the west and Halikarnassos to the east.6 At some point, they entered into a sympoliteia
to create a single state, referred to in the inscription as “the joint totality of the Halikarnassians.”
Nevertheless, the two parts of Halikarnassos retained sufficiently separate identities that the
provisions for settling disputes involved parallel boards—​one for Halikarnassians and one for
Salmakitai with their respective board officials. But there is a single set of eponymous officials,
and above all the tyrant Lygdamis (II), whose concurrence to the decision of the joint assembly
of Halikarnassians and Salmakitai appears necessary to validate it. The initial lines, stating to
whom it seemed best, when and where the decisions that follow were made, appear formulaic
and thus suggest conventional practices—​the syllogos of the two parts of Halikarnassos decides;
the tyrant ratifies.
This may reveal something of the nature of the Lygdamid role in the political life of
Halikarnassos—​overseeing or moderating the decision-​making process in the joint syllogos. It
might be conjectured that it was an earlier Lygdamid, probably Lygdamis I, who instigated
the sympoliteia as a means of managing chronic conflicts between two very closely located
settlements. Perhaps Lygdamis I came to power originally in just these circumstances, and, as an
only recently established “tyrant,” sought to secure that position against aristocratic challenges
by joining his son and his daughter in an adelphic marriage—​should Lygdamis’ son die, the tyr-
anny would remain in the hands of family members.
However much actual synoikismos may have followed sympoliteia, it is evident that even by
the time of Lygdamis II, separate Halikarnassian and Salmakitian identities remained. The con-
tinuing political necessity of Lygdamid supervision of and mediation between Halikarnassos’
two parts may help to explain the longevity of the Lygdamid tyranny, even beyond the time of
Artemisia and her brother–​husband.
Whenever it came to an end (absence of reference to a tyrant at Halikarnassos in the
Athenian Tribute Lists from 454 is often seen as indicating the demise of Lygdamid tyranny by
that time), the Lygdamid tyranny at Halikarnassos was by far one of the longest-​lasting tyran-
nies of the sixth-​to fifth-​century Aegean world, spanning at least four generations over nearly a
century. Given the likelihood of Lygdamid involvement with the sympoliteia that created a new
Halicarnassian state, a very important as well as a lengthy portion of Halikarnassos’ history was
closely connected with the Lygdamid family.
A century later, when Artemisia II held sole power (353–​351), Halikarnassos and inland
Karia were very different places than in the early fifth century. Both remained subject to Persia,
but in the 390s Karia, previously part of the Lydian satrapy centered on Sardeis, had become a
separate satrapy, and a native dynast, Hekatomnos of Mylasa, son of Hyssaldomos, had become
satrap.7 Hekatomnos and probably Hyssaldomos before him were already pre-​eminent among
Karian dynasts as “kings of the Karian koinon.” Centered on the sanctuary of Zeus Karios at
Mylasa, the koinon or league joined together inland dynasteiai for cultic and perhaps delibera-
tive purposes. Dynasts of Mylasa held this kingship on a hereditary basis, performing priestly
functions and exercising military leadership if Karian dynasts undertook some common mili-
tary enterprise (something attested only during the Ionian Revolt in the 490s).8 In the early
fifth century, Mylasa and the kingship of the Karians had belonged to the family of Ibanollis
and his sons (Hdt. 5.37, 121), while Hekatomnid ancestors resided at Kindya, about ten miles

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from Mylasa. Hekatomnid ancestors seem to have moved to Mylasa only sometime in the early
fifth century, perhaps after the demise of Ibanollid family members during the Ionian Revolt.
The satrapal position gave Hekatomnos and his successors far greater powers—​not least, the
power to collect taxes—​and status than those deriving from the largely ceremonial position of
King of the Karians. Hekatomnos’ new wealth and interest in displaying it are evident in his
minting of coins on both Milesian and Rhodian standards bearing his name, and in various
benefactions in the Mylasa region. Zeus Labraundos, whose sanctuary lay in a remote rural
setting close to Mylasa, was the special Hekatomnid deity. Hekatomnos used his image on his
Rhodian standard coins and dedicated a new statue of the god at Labraunda. Hekatomnos’
patronage, expressed mainly through building activities, is evident elsewhere in his dynastic ter-
ritory: construction of cult centers for the three tribes that made up Mylasa’s population, new
buildings, and the dedication of an offering table at the sanctuary of the god Sinuri.9
Hekatomnos had five children—​three sons, Maussollos, Idrieus, and Pixodaros, and two
daughters, Artemisia and Ada. Xenophon’s observation (Kyr. 7.4.1–​7) about Karians before the
Persian conquest—​“having their homes in strong places, they fought against each other”—​
points to the circumstances which traditionally dictated avoidance of intermarriage among
Karian families. For Hekatomnos’ sons that might have meant marriage to non-​Karian females,
as it had for a Hekatomnid forebear, Pixodaros of Kindya, who married the daughter of a
Kilikian ruler (Hdt. 5.118.2). However, this was not the case. Hekatomnos’ two older sons,
Maussollos and Idrieus, each married a sister, Artemisia and Ada respectively. The youngest son,
Pixodaros, lacking an available sister, married a Kappadokian woman named Aphneis.
When Hekatomnos died in 377/​376, Maussollos succeeded as satrap, dynast, and “King
of the Karians.” But at least in terms of a Karian identity (as opposed to satrapal status),
Maussollos’ sister-​wife Artemisia joined him as part of a public/​official “royal couple.” They
appear jointly in various inscriptions, though not on coins or dedications. Over the next
quarter century, they sponsored a building program “surpassing anything seen in the Greek
world since Athens in the time of Pericles.”10 This involved nothing less than a political, cul-
tural, and architectural transformation of Karia. Employing leading fourth-​century architects
and sculptors, Maussollos and Artemisia greatly enlarged existing sanctuaries, built numerous
new, fully Greek temples, terraces, and ritual dining buildings (andrones). They fostered the
adoption of Greek political practices in Karian centers and hellenized the names of various
cities.
Most significantly, Maussollos and Artemisia made Halikarnassos the new Hekatomnid cap-
ital city and used it for a spectacular display of town planning and monumental architecture.
A new fortification wall 3,5 miles in circumference encompassed a greatly enlarged urban area.
The city itself featured straight, intersecting streets based on the most up-​to-​date Hippodamian
model. An existing sanctuary of Apollo, Halikarnassos’ main deity, remained intact on the
elevated part of the Zephyra peninsula. Next to it rose a great palace designed, according to
Vitruvius (2.8.13) by Maussollos himself, with its own arsenal and secret harbor. Here resided
a luxurious court replete with eunuchs, musicians, and bodyguards. Additional great new
structures, a second palace on the western Salmakis promontory, a temple of Ares, and various
new harbor facilities, completed the architectural transformation of Lygdamid Halikarnassos
into Hekatomnid Halikarnassos.11
To provide his capital city with a population commensurate with its new size and importance
and to furnish manpower for the fleet and the standing army that he maintained at Halikarnassos,
Maussollos moved to Halikarnassos much of the population from surrounding, so-​ called
Lelegian settlements on the Halikarnassos Peninsula.12 Maussollos advertized Halikarnassos as
the new Hekatomnid center by issuing new coinage that placed the Hekatomnid deity on

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one side and Halikarnassian Apollo on the other.13 These coins also pointed to an emerging
Hekatomnid dynastic identity marked by the amalgamation of Karian and Greek elements.
Further to denote Halikarnassos as distinctively Hekatomnid, Maussollos and Artemisia
began construction of the centerpiece of new Halikarnassos—​the enormous tomb/​heroön/​
dynastic memorial ultimately known as the Maussolleion. When finished, it rose to a height
of more than 140 feet above its elevated terrace, making it easily the first sight for anyone
approaching Halikarnassos by sea or land. A monumental propylaion, reminiscent of that leading
to the Athenian acropolis, provided entry to the raised terrace. The monument’s different struc-
tural parts referenced various Persian, Egyptian, and Anatolian antecedents. Elaborate sculptural
programs, including friezes as well as free-​standing sculpture, made allusions to Greek myths
and legends, pre-​eminently that of Herakles, the hero believed responsible for bringing to Karia
the labrys, now held by the special Hekatomnid deity Zeus Labraundos. In its finished state, the
monument displayed sculptural portraits of four Hekatomnid couples between the columns on
the northern flank, paralleled, it appears, by a similar display of four Lygdamid couples on the
opposite side—​the families responsible for Halikarnassos’ two refoundations.14
After Maussollos’ death in 353, Artemisia held sole power. Idrieus and Ada, the second
brother-​husband–​sister-​wife Hekatomnid pair, apparently resided at Mylasa, perhaps having
remained there since Maussollos and Artemisia’s move to Halikarnassos. It is unlikely that
Artemisia held the satrapal title, but there were by now long-​established subordinate officials
and administrative routines that certainly continued to function, uninterrupted by Maussollos’
death. The Persian king, Artaxerxes III, was in the late 350s preoccupied with a campaign to
recover control of Egypt and probably little concerned about titles for governors in western-
most Anatolia, as long as tribute and levies for military service were forthcoming.15
Like Artemisia I, before assuming sole rule, Artemisia II had spent her whole life immersed
in dynastic and satrapal affairs. She was clearly not ill-​equipped to exercise power, and she seems
to have dealt directly and successfully with a Rhodian conspiracy to seize Halikarnassos (Vitruv.
2.8.14), now Rhodes’ primary commercial rival among cities in the region.16 Most importantly,
Artemisia oversaw the ongoing work on Maussollos’ great monument in Halikarnassos and
organized splendid funeral games held in the new theater just to the north of the Maussolleion,
which featured leading Greek poets and rhetoricians honoring Maussollos with both verse and
prose encomia. In this way, the couple continued to display Hekatomnid patronage in magnifi-
cent fashion even after Maussollos’ death.
Idrieus and Ada followed Artemisia II as rulers after her death in 351. Thanks to Maussollos’
inclusion of a variety of nearby and even distant city-​states in a loose symmachia and his repulse
of Athenian intervention in the eastern Aegean in the 350s,17 the Hekatomnids were important,
powerful figures in the larger Aegean world. Not surprisingly, observers also viewed them as
among the most prosperous, being “stuffed with revenues” (Isok. 5.103;Vitruv. 2.8.10).
Maussollos and Artemisia had displayed Hekatomnid wealth and power through building
projects in Karia and in nearby cities—​Latmos, Erythrai, and Priene. Idreius and Ada continued
local patronage at Labraunda and Sinuri. But they now advertized Hekatomnid wealth and
power much further afield through various benefactions on the Greek mainland—​at Tegea and
at Delphi and possibly Olympia. Notably, Idrieus and Ada’s images were displayed at these sites
along with that of Zeus Labraundos, the Hekatomnid deity par excellence.18 Idrieus died in
343/​342. As Artemisia II had followed her brother-​husband Maussollos, Ada now succeeded her
brother-​husband Idrieus.
We may pause here—​roughly 35 years after Hekatomnos’ death—​for some observations
and questions. Unmistakably, the Hekatomnids engaged over several decades in a sustained
and comprehensive project whose primary aim was the development and display of a dynastic

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identity. Scholars have analyzed the mix of Karian, Greek, and Persian elements in Hekatomnid
art, architecture, and coinage to determine just what the Hekatomnid dynastic identity
involved. However, one of the most distinctive Hekatomnid practices was the use of adelphic
marriage and the presentation of Hekatomnid rule as embodied in pairs of Hekatomnid males
and females as brother-​husbands and sister-​wives. This makes it necessary to ask what role
Hekatomnid women may have played in the conception and creation of a dynastic identity. Or
to put it another way, what does the use of adelphic marriage tell us about the dynastic identity
the Hekatomnids tried to create?19
We start with chronology. Maussollos and Artemisia were presumably married before 377,
while Hekatomnos was still alive. Given Idrieus’ death only eight years after that of Artemisia,
there is no difficulty in assuming that Idrieus reached adulthood before Hekatomnos’ death.
Idrieus’ sister-​wife Ada probably lived through the 330s, but not too long after this. If she was
born as late as 400, she would have been about 70, if as late as 390, about 60 at her death. In either
case, she would have been old enough before the time of Hekatomnos’ death to wed Idrieus in
the second of the Hekatomnid brother–​sister marriages. Recognizing this, we can conclude that
Hekatomnos himself was responsible for the adelphic marriages. To understand the purpose of
these marriages, then, we should first ask what Hekatomnos might have envisioned.
Plausible conjecture is possible. Hekatomnos was probably the pre-​eminent Karian dynast
in his capacity as King of the Karians, a mostly sacerdotal position in the Karian koinon with
its center in the vicinity of Mylasa. He owed this position to the fact that he was the dynast
at Mylasa, but strictly speaking the position did not belong inherently or exclusively to the
Hekatomnid family. It had been and theoretically could again be held by another family. In add-
ition, since his elevation as satrap in (probably) the 390s, Hekatomnos was also an elite Persian
official. However, this too involved a power which was not inherent in the Hekatomnid family.
What Hekatomnos may have sought was a way to claim and be seen to exercise power on a basis
separate from that deriving from his Mylasan residence and that conferred from the outside by
his satrapal appointment. That is, Hekatomnus may have sought to establish that Hekatomnid
power came fundamentally from the family itself and that all family members shared it by virtue
of their family membership—​in other words, to make blood the basis or source of power. This
was more than simply creating a “dynastic identity”: it aimed at creating a specifically royal
dynastic identity. Adelphic marriage and shared rule and, if necessary, sole rule by a surviving
sister-​wife would serve to present Hekatomnid authority as resting on a personal basis rather
than on the Hekatomnid satrapal position or the male-​only sacerdotal kingship of the Karians.
The fact that Hekatomnos’ putative plan could involve only two sets of adelphic couples,
since there was no remaining sister for the last brother (Pixodaros), need not have been fatal to
the plan. Hekatomnos may have anticipated that Maussollos and Artemisia and then Idrieus and
Ada would exercise power long enough to establish perception of the family as a royal family,
not just the pre-​eminent dynastic family in Karia. With the idea of Hekatomnid power based
on “royal blood” well entrenched, it might be expected that Pixodaros’ offspring, even if not
from two Hekatomnid progenitors, would be viewed as innately imbued with such power and
thus legitimate bearers of Hekatomnid “royal” identity. Hekatomnos could not be certain that
Maussollos and Artemisia or Idrieus and Ada would remain childless, but such offspring could
be folded into the plan in some way.
Where did Hekatomnos’ idea of adelphic marriage as a political tool come from? It was
not a widely used practice, and certainly not a characteristic Persian practice. But it was not
unprecedented locally. In late sixth-​to early fifth-​century Halikarnassos, Artemisia I and her
brother-​husband had been an adelphic couple, a fact likely well known in Karia at the time and
probably long remembered.

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Remarkably, thanks to recent discoveries in the vicinity of Mylasa, we have what appears to
be the sarcophagus of Hekatomnos. Here is one recent description and interpretation:

the main side of the sarcophagus facing the entrance of the burial chamber depicts a
banquet scene where members of his family surround the deceased. He may well be
Hekatomnos reclining on a couch next to his seated wife (probably his sister Aba with
features of a middle-​aged woman; behind her stand a boy and a girl in their teens; on
the left, before the deceased and closer to him, stand a bearded young man and behind
him an older man with a more finished beard. On either side of the couch stand two
children. Although the general composition of this funerary banquet looks rather con-
ventional, the detailed treatment given to each character by means of individual features
makes it no ordinary scene… If this sarcophagus does indeed belong to Hekatomnos,
one would be tempted to put names on each of these individuals, and the three older
males may well be Maussollos (perhaps the elder one standing on the far left), Idrieus
(young man carrying a Persian rhyton), and Pixodaros depicted as a teenager, behind
whom may be standing Artemisia in grief.The infant holding a bird and a doll by Aba’s
side is clearly a girl, the other looks like a boy. The girl may well be Ada, the sister-​
wife of Idrieus. The boy cannot be identified and may be missing from ancient sources
available to us at this time or he might have died at an early age. All in all, the entire
dynasty is gathered around the deceased and the long and well-​established funerary
banquet theme gave what appears to be Hekatomnos an opportunity to make a for-
ward statement of power through his progeny, all heirs to his ruling house.20

We may wonder who commissioned the sarcophagus and its sculptural program—​
Hekatomnos or Maussollos. But nothing could better depict the way in which Hekatomnid
rule was envisioned as family project, initiated by Hekatomnos and continued by those who
surround him here—​his numerous children.
With this conjectured long-​term Hekatomnid aim in mind, let us look back at Hekatomnid
activities and projects undertaken after Hekatomnos and ask if they do not seem like inten-
tional efforts to present and perform kingship in the manner of various Assyrian, Babylonian,
Egyptian, and Persian kings: region-​wide patronage of sacred sanctuaries, regular participation
in elaborate ceremonials at important “national” and local sanctuaries, transformation of sites
into urban centers, creation of a splendid new capital city marked by great walls and a great
palace, great display of luxury and pomp, long-​term patronage of artists and other cultural
agents, and above all, literally and figuratively, the construction of a unique, spectacular monu-
ment celebrating human and divine lineage.21
In addition, there is Maussollos’ and later Idrieus’ sustained promotion of the cult of Zeus
Labraundos, transforming this local deity into a pan-​Karian deity, and linking Hekatomnid
power to this divine power, rather than to that of Zeus Karios, the deity of the Karian koinon.
Hekatomnid building at the Labraunda sanctuary was second in importance only to that at
Halikarnassos, comprising a great new temple, ritual banqueting halls (andrones), and a great
processional way. When Maussollos moved to Halikarnassos, he joined Zeus Labraundos with
his characteristic labrys to Halikarnassian Apollo on his coin issues. Clearly, all this aimed at
claiming and advertising a new sacral basis for Hekatomnid kingship and differentiated it from
the previous cultic kingship of the Karian League.
Inscriptions provide glimpses of the display or affirmation of shared Hekatomnid identity.
A decree from Labraunda states that “it seemed best to Maussollos and Artemisia” to award
proxeny to Knossians in all the land which Maussollos rules.” In an agreement with the city-​state

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of Phaselis, Maussollos and Artemisia together (by emendation) swear oaths. Another inscription
records Erythrai’s award of a crown to Maussollos for his euergesia and dedication of statues of
both Maussollos and Artemisia (albeit a smaller one for Artemisia).22
Given the fact that Maussollos also acted individually as satrap, contemporary observers and
later writers were understandably uncertain about Maussollos’ identity. Aulus Gellius reports
that two traditions existed: “Mausollos was, as M. Tullius [Cicero] says, king [rex terrae Cariae],
or, as certain writers of Greek histories say, the prefect of the province, whom Greeks call the
satrap” (Gell. NA 10.18.2). Those, such as the fourth-​century playwright Epigenes, who used
the term “king” to designate one or another of the Hekatomnids, were certainly unaware of
Hekatomnid kingship of the koinon of the Karians and must have had other reasons for viewing
Hekatomnid rulers as kings (Athen. 472e–​f).
Instances of opposition—​the defacing of a statue of Hekatomnos at Mylasa, complaints to the
Persian king by a certain Arlissis, an envoy sent by “the Karians” (presumably the koinon of the
Karians), and an attempted assassination while Maussollos was sacrificing at Labraunda23—​may
point to the growing success of the Hekatomnid effort to create an independent basis of power
in Karia and to the corresponding declining significance of other Karian dynastic families.
The long-​term success of the putative Hekatomnid plan to establish a kingship based solely
on blood depended on two eventualities: production of a son from one of the adelphic marriages
or from Pixodaros’ marriage, and continued Persian willingness to let the Hekatomnids function
as quasi-​independent rulers, displaying a royal identity while still performing satrapal functions.
Neither happened. Pixodaros had only a daughter, Ada. And, following Artaxerxes III’s final
reconquest of Egypt in 343/​342 (after more than 50 years of Persian attempts), the Persian king
moved immediately to reassert strong control in western Anatolia, dispatching his Greek com-
mander Memnon with a sizable army to deal with independent-​minded dynasts such as Hermias
of Atarneus in northwestern Anatolia (Diod. 16.52.2–​8).24 The sources make no mention of the
Hekatomnids as intended targets, but it may have been fear that Artaxerxes would ‘Persianize”
administrative arrangements everywhere in Anatolia that prompted Pixodaros to “expel” Ada
from power in Karia (Diod. 16.74.2; Strabo 14.2.17; 1.23.7–​8) and reassert Hekatomnid satrapal
identity over Hekatomnid “royal” identity and thereby to emphasize subordination rather
than independence. As basilissa, Ada had likely been performing satrapal functions but, strictly
speaking, as a female, she was likely not officially a satrap. Ada removed herself to Alinda, north
of Mylasa, evidently retaining much of her court staff. She was, after all, no less “royal” for her
transfer of satrapal functions to Pixodaros.25
Artaxerxes III and many family members perished in a palace conspiracy in 338.The ensuing
succession struggle produced very uncertain political conditions throughout the Persian Empire,
just at the time when Philip of Makedon was taking control of the mainland Greek world and
turning his sights eastward. In this situation, Pixodaros used the youngest and last Hekatomnid
female, his daughter Ada, to secure the fortunes of the Hekatomnid family. In early 337,
Pixodaros either responded favorably to a proposal from Philip or made the proposal himself
that his daughter Ada marry Philip’s elder son Philip Arrhidaios (Plut. Alex. 10.1–​3). Nothing,
however, came of this after Alexander, Philip’s younger son and prospective heir, independently
offered himself as marriage partner to Pixodaros’ daughter. As reports came of renewed stability
at the Persian court following the accession of Dareios III and with it the prospect of reversion
to Artaxerxes III’s close attentiveness to the details of imperial administration, Pixodaros turned
from attempted Makedonizing and instead “Persianized,” marrying his daughter Ada to a high-​
ranking Persian, Orontobates (Strabo 14.2.17; Arr. Anab. 1.23.8). Orontobates soon became
Pixodaros’ successor as satrap of Karia—​certainly not the kind of outcome that Hekatomnos
had hoped and planned for.26

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Ada, Pixodaros’ sister, remained at Alinda after Pixodaros’ death and Orontobates’ assumption
of sole satrapal power. But, thanks to her use of family for political purposes, Ada ended up as
the last Hekatomnid satrap of Karia. When Alexander advanced into Karia in late 334 on his
way to Halikarnassos to attack Orontobates and Persian forces that had survived the Granikos
River battle, Ada went out from Alinda to meet Alexander and proposed to adopt him as her
son. Alexander accepted. After chasing Persian forces out of Halikarnassos (though without cap-
turing the inner citadels), Alexander named Ada satrap, and directed her to continue operations
against the Persian forces remaining in Halikarnassos (Arr. Anab. 1.23.8; Diod. 17.24.2; Plut.
Alex. 22.7).27 With the assistance of a Makedonian commander, she did so (after temporary
Persian reoccupation) and presumably resumed residence in Halikarnassos. In the end, then,
unlike her older brothers Maussollos and Idrieus, Ada was not a satrap who became a royal
figure, but, thanks to Alexander’s appointment, a royal figure who became a (Makedonian)
satrap. In that way, Hekatomnos’ plan of making family the fundamental basis of Hekatomnid
power finally succeeded, albeit briefly.28

Notes
1 All dates in this chapter are BCE.
2 Most treatments of Artemisia I are interested in what Herodotos’ treatment of her reveals about his
methods and his and Greek views in general regarding gender, see e.g. Cuchet 2015: 228–​46.
3 Berve 1967: 1.120–​2, 2.589.
4 Suda s.v. “Pigres;” Jeppesen 2002: 173. The Suda further reports that Artemisia I had a brother Pigres.
He never appears as tyrant/​dynast. Possibly, he predeceased Artemisia.
5 Translated after Piñol-​Villanueva 2017: 31.
6 Piñol-​Villanueva 2017: 35–​ 9 refutes the notion that Salmakis was the Karian settlement and
Halikarnassos the Greek center.
7 Hornblower 1982: 59–​62; Ruzicka 1992: 15–​16. Some scholars have suggested that Hekatomnos’
father Hyssaldomos may have been the first native satrap of Karia; Robert 1937: 572–​3.
8 On the koinon of the Karians, see Carstens 2009: 78–​9.
9 Hornblower 1982: 312; Carstens 2009: 80–​1.
10 Pedersen 1994: 12.
11 Carstens 2009: 65–​120 describes the Hekatomnid building program and patronage practices well; also
Hornblower 1982: 294–​332; Pedersen 1994: 12–​15; Pedersen 2009: 315–​39.
12 Pliny NH 5.107, mistakenly attributing the synoikismos to Alexander; Hornblower 1982: 78–​97.
13 Konuk 2013: 107–​9.
14 Jeppesen 2002; Carstens 2009: 65–​74. On the pairing of Hekatomnid and Lygdamid family members,
Jeppesen 2002: 178–​82; Carstens 2009: 71–​4. On Herakles and the labrys, Ruzicka 1992: 49–​50.
15 Isok. 5.101–​2; Ruzicka 2012: 154–​63.
16 On the historicity of this episode, Ruzicka 1992: 107–​11.
17 Ruzicka 1992: 90–​9.
18 As Carney 2005: 81–​3 has observed, “there has been almost no scholarly discussion of the reasons why
the Hekatomnids chose to pursue brother–​sister marriage as a dynastic strategy;” Carney concludes
that the Hekatomnids probably turned to brother–​sister marriage to elevate the status of and establish
an identity for their new dynasty. I agree, but I want to take this inquiry further by asking exactly what
kind of identity brother–​sister marriage might help to establish.
19 The question is complicated by uncertainty about the identity of Hekatomnos’ wife. Inscriptions
provide the name Aba for a daughter of Hekatomnos’ father Hyssaldomos and thus likely a sister of
Hekatomnos (Hornblower 1982: 36). A recently discovered inscription from Mylasa records the dedi-
cation of an offering to “the good daimones of Hekatomnos and Aba” by (according to restoration)
an official of Maussollos, apparently originally placed on or near the tomb of Hekatomnos in Mylasa
(Descat 2011: 195–​202). The pairing might suggest that Hekatomnos and Aba had a brother–​sister
marriage. If that is the case, there is no evidence that Hekatomnos advertized such a marriage in any
way. Hornblower 1982: 37 n. 9 rejects the possibility of a Hekatomnos–​Aba marriage in the belief
that such a marriage could not produce the number of evidently healthy, normal children represented

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Karian royal women

by Maussollos and his siblings. It is better to see the reference to the pairing of Hekatomnos and Aba
in this dedication reflecting an effort by Maussollos to push the notion of shared and exclusive family
identity back to Hekatomnos himself by linking him to his sister. The name of Hekatomnos’ wife and
the mother of his children thus remains unknown.
20 Konuk 2013: 111–​12. Note doubts expressed in previous note for identifying Hekatomnos’ wife as his
sister Aba.
21 Unseen and undocumented are the workmen who toiled at the basic construction work. There must
have been a virtual army of these working for Maussollos and Artemisia almost continuously as a sort
of permanent—​royal—​labor force.
22 See Ruzicka 1992: 38–​9, 72–​3 for details of both inscriptions.
23 Tod, GHI 138.
24 Ruzicka 1992: 121–​3.
25 Pixodaros, using the familiar Apollo/​Zeus Labraundos type, did issue some small denomination gold
coins, recently a practice of other kings including Philip of Makedon (Konuk 2013: 110).
26 See Ruzicka 1992: 130–​4 and Ruzicka 2010: 3–​11 for more detailed treatment of Pixodaros’ marital
diplomacy.
27 Ruzicka 1992: 135–​55; Sears 2014: 211–​20 treats the adoption offer and Alexander’s acceptance of it
in terms of Alexander’s perceptions and aims.
28 A tomb discovered at Bodrum/​Halikarnassos in 1989 includes a nearly complete skeleton, a gold
myrtle leaf crown, much gold jewelry, and an oinochoe dating from the last third of the fourth cen-
tury. Reconstruction of the head and comparisons with known sculptural depictions of Hekatomnid
females have served to make a compelling case for identifying the remains as those of Ada. See Ozet
1994: 88–​96 and Prag and Neave 1994: 97–​109.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Berve, H. 1967. Die Tyrannis bei den Griechen. Munich.
Carney, E.D. 2005. “Women and Dunasteia in Caria.” American Journal of Philology 126, 1: 65–​91.
Carstens, A.M. 2009. Karia and the Hekatomnids: The Creation of a Dynastic Identity. Oxford.
Cuchet,V.S. 2015. “The Warrior Queens of Caria (Fifth to Fourth Centuries BCE): Archaeology, History,
and Historiography.” In J.F. Serris and A. Keith (eds.), Women and War in Antiquity. Baltimore: 228–​46.
Descat, R. 2011. “Autour de la tombe d’Hékatomnos. Nouvelle lecture d’une inscription de Mylasa.”
Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 178: 195–​202.
Hellstrom, P. 2009. “Sacred Architecture and Karian Identity.” In F. Rumscheid (ed.), Die Karer und die
anderen. Internationales Kolloquium an der Freien Universität Berlin 13. bis 15. Oktober 2005. Bonn, 267–​90.
Hornblower, S. 1982. Mausolus. Oxford.
Isager, J. (ed.) 1994. Hekatomnid Caria and the Ionian Renaissance. Odense.
Jeppesen, K. 2002. The Maussolleion at Halikarnassos, vol. 5: The Superstructure. Aarhus.
Konuk, K. 2013. “Coinage and Identities under the Hecatomnids.” In O. Henry (ed.), 4th century
Karia: Defining a Karian Identity under the Hekatomnids. Paris, 101–​23.
Ozet, M.A. 1994. “The Tomb of a Noble Woman from the Hekatomnid Period.” In J. Isager (ed.),
Hekatomnid Caria and the Ionian Renaissance. Odense, 88–​96.
Pedersen, P. 1994.“The Ionian Renaissance and Some Aspects of its Origin within the Field of Architecture
and Planning.” In J. Isager (ed.), Hekatomnid Caria and the Ionian Renaissance. Odense, 11–​35.
Pedersen, P. 2009. “The Palace of Maussollus in Halikarnassos and Some Thoughts on its Karian and
International Context.” In F. Rumscheid (ed.), Die Karer und die anderen. Internationales Kolloquium an
der Freien Universität Berlin 13. bis 15 Oktober 2005. Bonn, 313–​48.
Piñol-​Villanueva, A. 2017. “Halikarnassos-​Salmakis: A pre-​Classical sympoliteia?” Klio 99, 1: 26–​50.
Prag, A.J.N.W. and Neave, R.A.H. 1994. “Who is the ‘Carian Princess?’” In J. Isager (ed.) Hekatomnid Caria
and the Ionian Renaissance. Odense, 97–​109.
Robert, L. 1937. Études anatoliennes. Paris.

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Ruzicka, S. 1992. Politics of a Persian Dynasty: The Hecatomnids in the Fourth Century B.C. Norman, OK.
Ruzicka, S. 2010. “The ‘Pixodarus Affair’ Reconsidered Again.” In E.D. Carney and D. Ogden (eds.), Philip
II and Alexander the Great: Father and Son, Lives and Afterlives. Oxford, 3–​11.
Ruzicka, S. 2012. Trouble in the West: Egypt and the Persian Empire, 525–​332 BCE. Oxford.
Sears, M. 2014. “Alexander and Ada Reconsidered.” Classical Philology 109, 3: 211–​21.
Waywell, G.B. 1993. “The Ada, Zeus and Idrieus Relief from Tegea in the British Museum.” In O. Palagia
and W. Coulson (eds.), Sculpture from Arcadia and Laconia. Oxford: 79–​86.

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15
SELEUKID WOMEN
Marek Jan Olbrycht

Introduction
This chapter explores the role of women belonging to the Seleukid dynasty and closely related
to the kings of this house as mothers, wives, sisters, and concubines.1 The Seleukids drew on the
heritage of Argead (Temenid) Macedonia, the practices of Alexander the Great, and Achaimenid
heritage.2 Generally, the Seleukid kings were polygamous and lived in a milieu which featured
different forms of hierarchizing female members of the ruling house. Polygamy undoubtedly
prevailed in the royal houses in Asia in the Hellenistic period. In addition, different forms
of next-​of-​kin marriages occurred. As a rule, the king had one wife of primary rank, who
was by definition the mother of the heir to the throne. In commonly accepted legal terms,
royal succession was male primogeniture. In the Seleukid House, from the very beginning the
succession was secured by the co-​regency of the eldest son (“crown prince”) accompanied by
his consort.

Apama, Seleukos I, and their progeny

The founder of the dynasty, Seleukos I (born about 358 BCE)3 was the son of the Macedonian
nobleman Antiochos and Laodike.4 Laodike’s background is not known. Seleukos is said to
have founded five cities named in her honor.5 It is uncertain whether Seleukos had a sister
named Didymeia.6 At the mass wedding at Susa in 324, Seleukos married the Iranian princess
Apama, the daughter of Spitamenes, who was one of the most significant figures in the history
of Central Asia.7 Spitamenes led the war against Alexander’s invasion of Baktria and Sogdiana in
329–​328. He may have been related to the famous Spitama clan.8 This implies the high status of
the Spitamenes’ clan in Central Asia. The Achaimenid connection of Apama (1) may have been
historical.9 As king, Seleukos maintained Apama in a position of honor. She died shortly before
Seleukos married Stratonike.10
The union of Seleukos and Apama produced Antiochos I (Plut. Demetr. 31.5), designated
as the eldest child (by a legal wife?).11 Antiochos was destined to be heir apparent and was
appointed co-​regent of the Upper Satrapies in about 294.12 Apama and Seleukos had two well-​
attested daughters: Apama (2) and Laodike (1).13

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Apama played a pivotal role in establishing the dynasty of Seleukos. Her significance was
appreciated: Seleukos I and Antiochos I named several cities after her.14 Apama proved a crucial
figure in establishing the Seleukid authority in Central Asia.15 She did not sever links with her
former homeland, as implied by a decree of the city of Miletos in her honor (299/​298), initiated
by Demodamas: “Queen Apama has previously displayed all goodwill and /​zeal/​for those
Milesians who served in the army with king Seleukos.”16 One of these Milesians was surely
Demodamas, who conducted military operations in Sogdiana (Plin. NH 6.49), where Apama
came from, and reached the regions beyond the Syr-​darya (Uzbekistan). Apama also showed “no
ordinary devotion” toward the construction of the temple of Apollon at Didyma. An inscription
at Delos (dedication to Leto, Artemis, and Apollon) stressed Apama’s significance in the Greek
religious sphere.17 Apama may also have supported a famous Bactrian temple at Takht-​e Sangin
(also called the temple of the Oxos) in present-​day Tajikistan.18
Around 303 Seleukos concluded a treaty with the Indian king Sandrokottos. There are
reports of a marital union included in this agreement, but we do not know if Seleukos married
Sandrokottos’ daughter (perhaps as a lower-​ranking wife) or gave one of his daughters or
nieces.19

Stratonike and Antiochos I

After the battle of Ipsos (301), Seleukos was forced to change his politics and sought an
agreement with the Antigonid king Demetrios Poliorketes. As a result, he married the daughter
of Demetrios and Phila, Stratonike (around 298).20 Stratonike bore a daughter called Phila after
her mother.21 Later, Phila married her uncle Antigonos II Gonatas (270s).22
Seleukos’ and Apama’s son, Antiochos I Soter (reign 281–​261), was appointed co-​regent
in the Upper Satrapies around 294. His union with Stratonike was established under strange
circumstances: the source tradition claims that Antiochos fell in love with his stepmother, and
his worried father decided to give him his wife. 23 Some experts believe that such a romantic
version is false.24 However, history knows of various love scandals that seem illogical and
contrary to conventional expectations. The affair certainly had a political dimension: giving
Stratonike to Antiochos consolidated the empire and dynastic relations. Antiochos was the co-​
regent in the Upper Satrapies, and Stratonike, who received the title of “Queen of Upper Asia,”
was to produce the heir to the throne of the whole empire.
The marriage of Antiochos I with Stratonike gave birth to at least four children: Seleukos,
Antiochos, Apama, and Stratonike. Queen Stratonike is named next to Antiochos in the
famous building inscription from Borsippa dated to 268. She is called šarratu, “queen,” and
hirtu, “principal wife.”25 This titulature, unique among the Seleukids, implies a polygamous
relationship. Her name given in the text, Astartanikku, is a wordplay on the goddess Astarte
(see also Chapter 16). Stratonike was included in the ruler cult: she was associated with
Aphrodite.26
According to Stephanos of Byzantion (s.v. Antiocheia), Antiochos named the city of Nysa
“after his wife Nysa.” It seems, therefore, that Antiochos had a consort called Nysa. Epigraphic
evidence suggests that Antiochos I married a lady called “sister-​wife,” ἀδελφὴ βασίλισσα
(OGI 219). Some scholars maintain that the title ἀδελφὴ βασίλισσα is honorific and refers
either to Stratonike or to Nysa. A comparative case is Laodike (5), the wife of Antiochos III,
called “sister-​wife,” although in fact she was a cousin of the king. Some consider the pos-
sibility that Antiochos I actually married his half-​sister (Nysa or another wife).27 The idea
of sibling-​marriage may have been borrowed from incestuous marriages practiced in Persia,
Egypt, and Karia.28

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Seleukid women

The clan of Achaios

Achaios the Elder, the founder of a powerful dynastic house, is one of the most fascinating
figures in Seleukid and Anatolian history. 29 An inscription discovered near Laodikeia on the
Lykos names this Achaios as a local potentate around 267.30 He had two daughters, Antiochis
and Laodike (2). Antiochis married Attalos of Pergamon (Strab. 13.4.2).This marriage produced
Attalos (I), born around 269.31 Laodike (2) married Antiochos II by 267. The House of Achaios
also produced Laodike (4), the wife of Seleukos II, and mother of Seleukos III and Antiochos
III; Alexander, the brother of Laodike (2) and governor of Sardeis; and Andromachos and his
son Achaios the Younger, who aspired to kingship in Anatolia at the time of Antiochos III and
was executed in 213.32 The marriage of Laodike (2) to Antiochos II implies that Achaios the
Elder must have been a power holder of highest rank, representing a dynastic house compar-
able to that of the main line of the Seleukids. Seleukos was 34 when he married Apama in 324.
He almost certainly had a concubine before that marriage. Conceivably, this alleged union may
have produced Achaios, and this would have made Antiochos I and Achaios half-​brothers.33
The occurrence of the name Achaia among the cities founded under Antiochos I (App. Syr. 57;
Strab. 11.10.1; Plin. NH 6.48; Solinus 48.4)34 implies that Achaios was one of the city founders.
Some scholars assume that Achaios may have received the hand of the royal daughter, Laodike
(1), born by Apama.35 This remains hypothetical. Polyainos (8.50) calls Laodike, the wife of
Antiochos II, his sister from the same father, a statement that is difficult to explain.36

Laodike (2), Antiochos II Theos, and Berenike Phernophoros

Antiochos II (281–​246), the second son of Antiochos I and Stratonike, became co-​regent in the
Upper Satrapies in 267.37 His first wife was Laodike (2), the daughter of Achaios the Elder.38
This marriage, concluded before Antiochos’ co-​regency with his father, produced Seleukos
II, Antiochos Hierax (the Hawk), Stratonike, and Laodike.39 Another child of Antiochos II
was a certain ‘Apammu’; presumably this Babylonian form renders the male name Apames.40
This child stemmed from an unknown mother. Stratonike was married to Ariarathes III of
Kappadokia (Diod. 31.19.5) in the 250s. Another daughter (presumed name Laodike) married
king Mithridates II of Pontos in the late 240s and became the mother-​in-​law of Antiochos III.41
The Second Syrian War (ca. 260–​253) was concluded by a treaty including a dynastic union
between Antiochos II and Berenike, the daughter of Ptolemy II.42 Antiochos repudiated his
wife Laodike (2) and married Berenike “Phernophoros” in 252. Laodike and her sons were
generously provided with land in Asia Minor and Babylon during the separation.43 It seems that
Antiochos returned to Laodike as his royal wife.44 Political intentions linked with the marriage
of Antiochos II to Berenike were certainly numerous. Some scholars perceive the marital union
of Berenike as “a spoiling operation against the Seleukids.”45 Berenike gave birth to a son whose
name Antiochos became known through an inscription from Kildara (Karlen).46 Laodike’s rela-
tionship with Berenike was obviously hostile.
The end of Antiochos II’s reign looks like a sensational story. Two queens dominated the
political scene. Faced with Antiochos’ weakness and vacillation, Laodike decided to poison
him.47 The latter’s role remains disputed. Ancient sources picture Laodike as a politically active
and power-​hungry queen.48 Contrary to this, in recent scholarship Laodike’s role appears to
be reassessed, and all “alleged crimes have to be discarded as mere fabrications.”49 Researchers
are trying to soften Laodike’s image and are rejecting reports of her crimes. However, the most
important sources give an unambiguous picture: Laodike paved the way to the throne for her
son Seleukos at any price. On her orders, Berenike and her son were murdered.50

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Split in the dynasty—​the families of Seleukos II and Antiochos Hierax

Ptolemy III, the king of Egypt, invaded the Seleukid state, thus starting a confrontation called
the Laodikean War.51 Appian’s claim (Syr. 65) that Laodike was killed by soldiers of Ptolemy III
(in 246) is not necessarily wrong (as some scholars maintain).52 During the War of the Brothers,
the Seleukids split into two dynastic “camps” and actually two kingdoms under Seleukos II (the
legitimate ruler of the empire) and Antiochos Hierax (de facto controlling parts of Asia Minor),
respectively. Both brothers used the title of king (Just. 41.4.4). The Fraternal War erupted
after Laodike’s death, probably in 245/​244. Hierax, aided by some members of the House of
Achaios, claimed the rule over Asia Minor. For some time, he was presumably supported by
Ziaelas, King of Bithynia, whose daughter he married.53 Justin (27.3.6) calls Ariamenes, king of
Kappadokia, Hierax’s father-​in-​law, but nothing more is known of that alleged marital link to
the Kappadokian dynasty.
Seleukos II was married to Laodike (4),54 the daughter of Achaios the Elder. This union
produced Seleukos III (original name Alexander), Antiochos III (born around 242/​241),55
and Antiochis (in fact the identity of her mother is not certain but Laodike (4) is the most
likely option). Antiochis was married by Antiochos III to Xerxes of Western Armenia in 212.56
Presumably another daughter of Seleukos was the mother of a Mithridates, who was intended
to be placed on the Armenian throne in 212 (Polyb. 8.23.3–​5), but it is possible that Mithridates
was the son of Antiochis.57
A lady called Mysta, referred to as the wife of Seleukos (Polyain. 8.61), was in fact Seleukos’
mistress (alongside a certain Nysa).58 Seleukos II married his sister to King Mithridates II
of Pontos, providing her with Greater Phrygia as a dowry.59 This marriage must have been
concluded after the battles of Ankyra and Kallinikon to neutralize the alliance of Hierax and
Pontos.
Polybios 8.20.11 states that “Achaios [the Younger, MJO], the son of Andromachos the
brother of Laodike the wife of Seleukos, married Laodike the daughter of King Mithridates.”
This suggests that the House of Achaios conducted its own marital policy in the 240s or 230s,
in parallel to the main line of the Seleukids.60

Laodike (5), Antiochos III, and their progeny

No wife or children of Seleukos III are attested to. The marriages of Antiochos III the Great
(223–​187), born in about 242/​241, the younger brother of Seleukos III, were closely linked to
his politics. In 222, Antiochos married his cousin Laodike (5), the daughter of Mithridates II of
Pontos. She was proclaimed queen (βασίλισσα) in Antiocheia (Polyb. 5.43.1–​4). The mother
of Laodike (5) was Antiochos III’s aunt Laodike (3), daughter of Antiochos II.61 This is the first
time a Seleukid king from the main branch had married a princess representing an Asiatic
kingdom. This marriage produced at least three sons and four daughters.
Around 195, Antiochos III arranged the marriage of his children, Antiochos the Son and
Laodike (6) (App. Syr. 4–​5), which produced a daughter called Nysa.62 In the spring of 193
Antiochos the Son was appointed co-​regent of the Upper Satrapies, but he died that same
summer (Liv. 35.15).The second son of Antiochos III and Laodike (5), Seleukos (IV), born soon
after 220, became co-​regent and assumed the throne in 187.63
Two younger sons of Antiochos III, Seleukos IV and Mithridates/​Antiochos IV were as rulers
married to a Laodike.64 Presumably, this was the same Laodike (6), passed between brothers, as
a case of levirate.65 Nysa married Pharnakes I of Pontos (ca. 185-155).66

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Seleukid women

Antiochos III intended to create a stable system of dynastic succession. It was to be based on
the marriages of the king and his appointed successor within the Seleukid clan. As Berenike’s
example demonstrated, marriages of kings to princesses from foreign dynastic houses intended
to be queens had lamentable results. Therefore, Antiochos III sought to “close” the dynastic
succession within the next circle of relatives. This, in turn, caused unexpected problems: kings,
queens, and their progeny became increasingly involved in clashes for power. Another practice
was to give a royal daughter to a foreign king, with the goal of binding the vassals to the dynasty
and forming alliances.
In 206, Antiochos III offered the hand of an unnamed daughter to Demetrios, the son of the
Baktrian king Euthydemos.67 Another daughter, Kleopatra, married Ptolemy V in winter 194/​
193. She was in fact imposed on Ptolemy by Antiochos III.68 This marriage may be seen as a
spoiling strategy with the goal of weakening a rival. A fragment from the Book of Daniel 11.17
implies that such operations were conducted on purpose:69

He will resolve to subjugate all the dominions of the king of the South, and he will
come to fair terms with him, and will give him a young woman in marriage, for the
destruction of the kingdom, but she will not persist nor serve his purpose.
(Book of Daniel 11.17.Translation after New English Bible)

In Egypt, the name of Kleopatra superseded Arsinoë and Berenike as the favorite and charac-
teristic name of a Ptolemaic queen. Following the death of Ptolemy V in 182, Kleopatra became
regent for her underage son, Ptolemy VI Philometor until 173.70
Another royal daughter of Antiochos III, Antiochis, married Ariarathes IV of Kappadokia
in the 190s. In 164 she was murdered in Antiocheia.71 She bore Ariarathes V, Orophernes, and
Mithridates. Antiochos III offered another daughter to Eumenes II of Pergamon in marriage,
but this proposal was rejected (in 193).72 All these steps were taken by Antiochos III in the face
of a planned war on Rome.
Two presumed sons of Antiochos III and Laodike (5) appear in 197, Ardys and Mithridates.73
An inscription proves that Antiochos III and Laodike had three sons: Antiochos (the eldest
son), Seleukos, and Mithridates; the last assumed the name Antiochos IV.74 Mithridates was the
name of the father of queen Laodike (5), so she must have been mother of Mithridates, son of
Antiochos III. The name Ardys occurred in Lydia and may be ascribed to the house of Laodike
as well.75
During his stay in Europe (191) Antiochos entered into a second marriage in Chalkis with
Euboia, the daughter of the local noble citizen Kleoptolemos. The king took her with him to
Asia. Her further fate is unknown.76 Laodike (5) was presumably still alive at that time.77
The beginnings of the Seleukid royal cult may be dated to the reign of Seleukos I. The ruler
cult included chiefly the sovereigns, but their wives were usually involved as well. Thus, there
were cults for a single king or royal couple, chiefly in cities but also in dynastic centers. Reliable
evidence is available under Antiochos III: he apparently (around 209) appointed high priests,
who were entrusted with the supervision of the cults in a part of the empire and presumably
the care of dynastic cult, which was further developed at that time. In 193, Antiochos submitted
letters to the governors, in which he supported the organization of the cult of “Our Ancestors
and Our Self,” and “in the same districts” of the cult of his wife Laodike by senior priestesses;
their attribute was a golden wreath with the image of the Queen.78 In fact, Antiochos III
bestowed divine honors upon his wife Laodike (5), called “sister-​queen” (ἀδελφὴ βασίλισσα)
in the inscriptions. A royal edict concerning a dynastic cult under Antiochos III is preserved in

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three copies: two were found in Iran (Nihavend and Kermanshah), and one was discovered in
Turkey (Dodurga/​Eriza).79

Laodike (6) and (7): from Seleukos IV to Demetrios I (187–​150)

After 187, the fundamental weaknesses of Antiochos III’s dynastic policies became apparent: the
marriages of full siblings produced a number of children who fiercely competed for the throne.
This time it was not the children of one king from different wives, but the children of different
kings from one wife, Laodike (6). The dynastic lines of Seleukos IV and Antiochos IV were
fighting each other. This latter line included Alexander Balas, Diodotos Tryphon, and the pre-
tender Alexander Zabinas. The line of Seleukos IV (Demetrios I, Demetrios II), on the other
hand, split into two branches initiated by the brothers Demetrios II and Antiochos VII. During
this time politically strong queens appeared, especially Laodike (6) and Kleopatra Thea, who
became a leading figure in the Seleukid state in 150–​121. It should also be added that the dyn-
astic disintegration was fueled by foreign powers, Rome and Parthia, both of which held rulers
in captivity and influenced the situation in the Seleukid state.
Seleukos IV (187–​175) was married to his full sister Laodike (6), his only known wife. They
had several children: Antiochos Eupator, Demetrios I, and Laodike (7). Laodike (7) married
Perseus of Macedonia.80 Antiochos Eupator became heir to the throne. Antiochos IV adopted
him and raised him to co-​regent, but then had him killed (around 170).81
Antiochos IV’s wife was Laodike (6), probably his full sister (OGI 252).82 Their son was
Antiochos V.83 Following the death of Antiochos IV, Laodike (6) was murdered by Ammonios,
an official of Alexander Balas (Liv. Epit. 50). Antiochos IV seems to have had another wife,
called Antiochis, and referred to as παλλακή (“concubine”).84 Her name suggests that she was
from the Seleukid house. She seems to have given birth to Alexander Balas and Laodike (8),
although this supposition remains a hypothesis (cf. Polybios 31.2.2 and 4). Laodike (8) was
married to Mithridates V of Pontus (reigned 152/​151–​120) and was detained and possibly
murdered by their son, Mithridates VI Eupator (born in 132). She had seven children by
Mithridates V.85
Antiochos V (co-​regent from 170, king 164–​162) was murdered by Demetrios I Soter (161–​
150), the son of Seleukos IV. Demetrios probably married his own sister Laodike (7), the widow
of Perseus (Liv. Epit. 50).86 He had three sons: Demetrios (II), Antiochos (VII), and Antigonos.87
Demetrios I was killed by Alexander Balas.

Kleopatra Thea and her royal consorts (150–​121)

In dynastic terms, the history of the Seleukid Kingdom between 150 and 121 was dominated
by Kleopatra Thea, the wife and queen of three rulers: Alexander Balas, Demetrios II, and
Antiochos VII Sidetes. The competing candidates for the throne created an unstable system in
which the role of queens increased enormously, becoming a stabilizing factor. This was partly
because some male rulers died in battle or were taken into foreign captivity.
Alexander I Balas was probably a natural child of Antiochos IV Epiphanes, like his sister
Laodike (8).The sources do not agree on the matter, but the tradition denying the royal descent
of Balas seems to have been formed by the Romans for their own political interests in Syria.88
When it comes to queens, Kleopatra Thea (married three times), daughter of Ptolemy VI, was
imposed on Balas as wife and queen in 150 and won a particular position. This royal couple
minted coins with a double portrait of the rulers: Kleopatra is depicted in the foreground.89
Kleopatra bore Antiochos VI Dionysos, who became the ephemeral child puppet-​king of

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the usurper Tryphon. The sources ascribe the killing of Antiochos VI either to Tryphon or to
Demetrios II.90
Alexander Balas was overthrown by Demetrios II. Ptolemy VI gave Balas no aid and handed
over Kleopatra Thea to Demetrios II (145–​139/​138) as his wife.This new union produced three
children: Seleukos V Philometor, Laodike (9), and Antiochos VIII Grypos. Demetrios tried to
reclaim Babylonia but was defeated and captured by the armies of Mithradates I of Parthia (in
the war of 139–​138). He spent nine years in honorable captivity in Parthian Hyrkania where
he married Mithradates’ daughter Rhodogune.91 The Parthians intended to use Demetrios II in
their policies toward the Seleukid state. Demetrios II’s marriage to Rhodogune, who gave birth
to children, was a breakthrough event and symbolic landmark, with the Seleukids, the declining
dynasty in Western Asia, becoming the pawns of the Arsakids. In diplomatic-​dynastic terms, the
Parthians respected the Seleukids because of their high political reputation.
Kleopatra Thea became regent of the kingdom in the absence of her husband Demetrios.
She tried to strengthen her dynastic position and married her husband’s brother, Antiochos VII
Sidetes. In this intelligent way, she eliminated the threat from Antiochos VII, who would surely
have initiated a fight for the throne.92 Kleopatra did not forget that Demetrios had married
Rhodogune, so jealousy played a role (App. Syr. 68). When Antiochos VII took over the throne
alongside his powerful consort, the split in the Seleukid dynastic house deepened. Kleopatra
Thea bore him five children, three of whom died of disease at a young age.The fourth, Seleukos,
was probably detained by the Parthians in 129 after his father’s defeat. The youngest child was
Antiochos IX Kyzikenos.93 Antiochus VII took his juvenile son Seleukos and the daughter of
Demetrios II, Laodike, on a campaign. The latter became a wife of the Parthian king Phraates
II.94 Seleukos was captured by king “Arsakes,” i.e. Phraates II, and was kept in royal style as a
prisoner (Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.19 = Euseb. I 255–​7 Schoene).95
In the face of the invasion of Antiochos VII, Demetrios II was released from captivity by
the Parthians (130) and made efforts to regain his kingdom (129–​125). In 125 he was defeated
by Alexander II Zabinas. After Kleopatra Thea refused to help him, he was killed in Tyros.96 In
the face of many coups and dynastic struggles, Kleopatra cleverly sent her two sons, Antiochos
Grypos (the “hook-​nosed”), by Demetrios II, to Athens, and Antiochos Kyzikenos, by Antiochos
VII, to Kyzikos to be educated (App. Syr. 68). Kleopatra turned out to be a ruthless ruler. Appian
reports her atrocities when the infant Seleukos V proclaimed himself king (Syr. 68): “As soon as
Seleukos assumed the diadem after his father’s death, his mother shot him dead with an arrow,
either fearing lest he should avenge his father or moved by an insane hatred for everybody.”
Kleopatra minted coins in her own name (126/​125).97 To strengthen her political position,
she shared the throne (124–​121) with her son, Antiochos VIII Grypos (Just. 39.1.9). As with
Alexander I, the coin portrait of Kleopatra is in the foreground.98 In 124/​123 Ptolemy VIII
gave his grand-​nephew Antiochos VIII his daughter Kleopatra Tryphaina as wife.99 A conflict
arose between the two ambitious queens, the queen mother and queen consort, i.e. Thea and
Tryphaina.When Grypos became more independent, Kleopatra Thea decided to eliminate him,
but Grypos killed her first (in 121).100

The epilogue—​in the shadow of Kleopatra Tryphaina and Selene

Following a brief respite, Grypos (reigned 121–​ 96) was challenged by his half-​ brother,
Antiochos IX Kyzikenos (116–​95), who returned to Syria to claim the throne.101 He ruled in
Koilesyria (Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.24–​5 = Euseb. I 259–​60 Schoene) and married Kleopatra
IV, the daughter of Kleopatra III, who fled her country in 113. One year later she was captured
by Grypos and her full sister Tryphaina, and murdered (Just. 39.3.2–​12). Kleopatra IV bore

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Kyzikenos one son, Antiochos X Eusebes.102 In the meantime, this king married Brittane,
daughter of the Arsacid king (John Malalas p. 208 Dindorf). She must have been the daughter
of Mithradates II of Parthia (122–​87).
Tryphaina bore five sons to Grypos: Seleukos VI, Antiochos XI, Philip I, Demetrios III,
and Antiochos XII. Their only daughter, Laodike Thea, was to marry Mithridates I Kallinikos
of Kommagene.103 In 102, Grypos received another wife from Egypt, Kleopatra Selene, the
daughter of Kleopatra III, who had been forced to divorce from Ptolemy IX (Justin 39.4.4).104
She produced no sons and upon the death of Grypos (in 96) she gave herself to Antiochos
IX Kyzikenos (App. Syr. 69). Then she married Antiochos IX’s son Antiochos X, whose reign
hardly appears in the records. Possibly he died in 92. Kleopatra Selene went into hiding for some
time while Syria was divided between the sons of Antiochos VIII, Philip I and Antiochos XII.
After the death of Antiochos XII in 83/​82, she proclaimed Antiochos XIII Asiatikos, her son by
Antiochos X, king in Antiocheia. However, foreign monarchs, namely Tigranes II of Armenia
and Aretas III of Nabataea, took control of most of Syria. Kleopatra Selene preserved some
independence and controlled several coastal cities. Tigranes II besieged her in Ptolemais and
captured her (69). She was finally executed.105
The final period (95–​64) of Seleukid history is characterized by a thicket of intrigues, dyn-
astic feuds, and foreign interventions (by Parthia, Rome, Armenia, and Egypt). In this twilight
period of Seleukid history, Kleopatra Selene became a bearer of the Seleukid royal tradition and
an expression of it at the time when most of Syria was conquered by Tigranes II. In 69, Syria,
with Roman consent, fell to Antiochos XIII Asiatikos (69–​64). His reign was interrupted by
Philip II, the son of Philip I. Asiatikos was dethroned by Pompey in 64 and soon eliminated by
Samsikeramos. Syria became a Roman province.

Conclusion
The role of women in the Seleukid dynastic system grew over time. Apart from the primary
wife and queen, usually referred to as βασίλισσα in Greek sources, there were often secondary
wives of inferior rank, concubines, and mistresses. Usually, the leading role was played by queen
consorts, e.g. Apame (1) and Laodike (2), less often by queen mothers (we see Laodike (2) and
Kleopatra Thea in both functions).The royal daughters and sisters played a major part in alliances.
Through marriages, the Seleukids tried to establish peaceful relations with other rulers and dyn-
asties, including those of the Antigonids, Ptolemies, Pontos, Kappadokia, Sophene, Kommagene,
Atropatene, and Baktria.106 In this dynastic architecture, the House of Achaios played a pivotal
role in the third century. The marital union of Antiochos II and Berenike from Egypt proved
fateful for the Seleukids, though dynastic marriages with the Ptolemies became frequent from
Antiochos III onwards. Relationships with the Antigonids did not last. After Antiochos III, the
political position of the Seleukids fell sharply and marriages with minor dynasts became fre-
quent. In Seleukid history after Antiochos IV, women played a pivotal role as active rulers or
co-​rulers who had de facto control of the state. In particular, when representatives of different
dynastic branches fought against each other, mothers and wives of the rulers played a dominant
role as stabilizing factors (e.g. Kleopatra Thea and Kleopatra Selene).
In the kingdoms of Asia, Seleukid political heritage became a token of particular value. Proper
descent was the decisive pre-​condition for legitimacy of rule, and in this respect links with the
Seleukids were often crucial, even after the dissolution of the Seleukid Empire.The same applies
to Achaimenid connections: being an heir to the ancient Persian kings bestowed royal prestige.
References to a double political heritage, namely to the Seleukids and Achaimenids, became
common in the second to first centuries in Pontos, Kappadokia, and Kommagene.107 Queen

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Glaphyra, the daughter of Archelaos of Kappadokia, is a telling example. She married Alexander,
one of Herod’s sons (about 17 BC) and was proud to trace her descent from Temenos (i.e.
Alexander’s line, including the Seleukids, according to a commonly accepted genealogy) on one
side and from Dareios the Persian on the other.108

Notes
1 On the power of women in terms of politics in the Hellenistic age, see Macurdy 1932; Vatin 1970;
Müller 2009a; 2009b; 2013; Ogden 2010; Bielman Sánchez 2003; Carney 2011; D’Agostini 2016a;
2016b; SRW; McAuley 2017a; 2017b; 2018b.
2 On royal women in Argead Macedonia, see Carney 1995; 2019; Müller 2009a. On the role of women
in Persia, see Brosius 1996.
3 All dates in this chapter are BCE.
4 There is no commonly accepted numeration for Seleukid queen consorts, especially for Laodikes. In
this chapter, the system proposed by Ogden 2010: 158, n. 1, is used.The numbering of Laodikes begins
with Laodike (1), the daughter of Seleukos I.
5 App. Syr. 57; Strab. 16.2.4; Steph. Byz. s.v. Laodikeia. Cf. Grainger 1990: 48–​50; Heckel 2006: 145–​6.
6 Heckel 2006: 111–​12.
7 Arr. Anab. 7.4.4–​6; Plut. Demetr. 31.5. On Apama, see Beloch 1927: 197;Tarn 1929; Macurdy 1932: 77–​
8; Holleaux 1942; Robert 1984; Mehl 1986: 17–​19; Shahbazi 1987; Holt 1988: 64–​5; Heckel 2006,
39–​40; Olbrycht 2013, 169–​71; Harders 2016; Engels and Erickson 2016. Strabon (12.8.15) confuses
her with Apama, the daughter of Artabazos (Plut. Artox. 27.7–​9). There are some flaws in sources
concerning Apama. Stephanos of Byzantion (s.v. Apameia) mistakenly calls Apama the “mother of
Seleukos,” while Livy 38.13.5 considers her the “sister” of Seleukos.
8 This old hypothesis may be right, see Mehl 1986: 18.
9 Tarn 1929.
10 John Malalas p. 198 Dindorf. See Ogden 2010: 119.
11 App. Syr. 61; OGI 213, lines 3–​4.
12 App. Syr. 62; See Plut. Demetr. 38. Cf. Sherwin-​White and Kuhrt 1993: 23–​4.
13 The daughters are mentioned by John Malalas 198, 202–​3 Dindorf; Laodike is attested to by Eustathius
915. Cf. Beloch 1927: 198 (who is skeptical about the evidence) and Grainger 1990: 12.
14 App. Syr. 57; Steph. Byz. s.v. Apameia; Strab. 16.2.4. Cf. Grainger 1997: 688–​9.
15 Olbrycht 2013: 169–​70.
16 IDidyma 480; SEG 26–​1234; Austin 2006: 51.
17 Müller 2013: 208.
18 Olbrycht 2013: 172.
19 Strab. 15.2.9; App. Syr. 55; Just. 15.4.21; Diod. 20.113.4; Oros. 3.23.46. See Beloch 1927: 198 and
Ogden 2010: 120.
20 Plut. Demetr. 31–​ 32. On this marriage, see Bevan 1902: I 62–​ 3; Mehl 1986: 223–​ 30; Grainger
1990: 132–​2; Ogden 2010: 120–​124; Almagor 2016; Engels and Erickson 2016.
21 John Malalas p. 198 Dindorf and Vita Arati apud Westermann 1964: 53.
22 OGI 216; IDidyma 114. Cf. Ogden 2010: 178.
23 Plut. Demetr. 38; App. Syr. 59–​61;Val. Max. 5.7 ext. 1. Cf. Brodersen 1985; 1989: 169–​75.
24 Ogden 2010: 122.
25 Sherwin-​White and Kuhrt 1993: 76, 83–​5; Kosmin 2014.
26 Inscription at Smyrna: OGI 229; Austin 2006: 174.
27 Ogden 2010: 124–​5.
28 See Müller 2009b: 85–​155; Brosius 1996: 36, 45–​6, 81, 205. Brosius believes that full sister marriage
was not practiced in Persia, contra Ogden 2010: 126–​7. See also Chapters 7, 14, and 29 in this
volume.
29 Beloch 1927: 204–​6; McAuley 2018a.
30 Wörrle 1975.
31 Beloch 1927: 204–​5; McAuley 2018a: 39.
32 McAuley 2018a: 37.
33 Beloch 1927: 204 assumes that Achaios was born around 320. In my view he may even have been born
prior to 324. Beloch identifies Achaios as the son of Seleukos (1927: 204–​6). Ogden 2010: 119–​120

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n. 18 rejects this view. Grainger 1997: 5, 127–​8, rejects Beloch’s hypothesis, however, in 2010: 109,
n. 43, he accepts it.
34 Olbrycht 1998: 42.
35 John Malalas p. 198, 202–​3; Eusthatius 915. See McAuley 2018a: 46; Ogden 2010: 120.
36 Ogden 2010: 124.
37 OGI 222; Trogus, Prol. XXVI.
38 Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.6 = Euseb. I 251 Schoene. For Laodike (2), see Martinez-​Sève 2003; Ogden
2010: 124–​8 assumes that she was the paternal half-​sister of Antiochos II, referring to Polyain. 8.50 and
to OGI 219 (decree of Ilion in honor of Antiochos I after his accession: Austin 2006: no. 162).
39 Diod. 31.19.6; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.6 = Euseb. I 251–​252 Schoene; Just. 28.5.3.
40 Sherwin-​White and Kuhrt 1993: 126 and Grainger 1997: 13, 38 opt for a female reading. For Antiochos
II’s children see Beloch 1927: 200–​1 and Macurdy 1932: 83.
41 Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.6 = Euseb. I 251 Schoene; Just. 38.5.3 with Beloch 1927: 217. Seibert
1967: 56 rejects the belief that Laodike married a Pontic king.
42 App. Syr. 65; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F43 = Hieronymus In Danielem 11.6–​9. Cf. Pridik 1935–​6; Lehmann
1998: 85–​6.
43 Austin 2006: 173: sale to Laodike (without the title “Queen”) of a tax-​free estate at a rather symbolic
price (IDidyma 492). Cf. Boiy 2004: 145–​6.
44 On the status of Laodike and Berenike in 246, see the different positions in Lehmann 1998; Coşkun
2016a; and Chrubasik 2016: 67.
45 Ogden 2010: 83, 128–​9.
46 Blümel 1992: 127–​33; SEG 42–​994.
47 Phylarchos BNJ 81 F24; App. Syr. 65; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F43 = Hieronymus In Danielem 11.6–​9.
48 This traditional picture of Laodike is, for example, given in Lehmann 1998: 86–​7.
49 On a new image of Laodike, see Coşkun 2016a: 132. Cf. Martinez-​Sève 2003; Chrubasik 2016: 67.
50 App. Syr. 65; Val. Max. 9.10 ext. 1; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F43 = Hieronymus, In Danielem 11.6–​9;
Polyaen. 8.50; Just. 27.1.
51 Beloch 1927: 536–​43; Lehmann 1998.
52 Appian’s information is, for example, rejected by Lehmann 1998: 87, n. 10. Coşkun 2016a: 133 assumes
that the queen was killed in August 246.
53 Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.6 = Euseb. I 251 Schoene. See Seibert 1967: 59.
54 Polyb. 4.51.4, 8.20.11. Cf. Ogden 2010: 132, n. 91.
55 Polyb. 20.8.1; Diod. 29.2; App. Syr. 16. Cf. Schmitt 1964: 4–​10 (he assumes the time span 243–​242).
56 Polyb. 8.23; cf. Ioann. Antioch. FHG IV p. 557 F53.
57 Schmitt 1964: 28; Ogden 2010: 132.
58 Phylarchos BNJ 81 F30. See Ogden 2010: 132.
59 Just. 38.5.3; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.6 = Euseb. Chron. I 251 Schoene. Details in Seibert 1967: 57–​8.
60 Cf. Beloch 1927: 202 (who assumes that Polybios’ evidence is mistaken); Seibert 1967: 57.
61 Macurdy 1932: 91; Schmitt 1964: 10; Seibert 1967: 60–​1; Ogden 2010: 133.
62 OGI 771; cf. Schmitt 1964: 15, 24.
63 Ogden 2010: 140–​1.
64 OGI 252; SEG 7–​17.
65 Ogden 2010: 135.
66 OGI 771; Grainger 1997: 52.
67 Polyb. 11.39. Cf. Sherwin-​White and Kuhrt 1993: 199 and Grainger 1997: 71.
68 App. Syr. 1; Liv. 33.40, 35.13. Cf. Seibert 1967: 65–​6; Ogden 2010: 82–​3.
69 Ogden 2010: 83.
70 Ogden 2010: 82–​3, 133–​40.
71 App. Syr. 5; Liv. 37.31.4; Diod. 31.19.7; Zonaras 9.18.7. Cf. Günther 1995; Grainger 1997: 8.
72 App. Syr. 4–​5. See Seibert 1967: 66–​7.
73 Liv. 33.19.9-​10. See Holleaux 1912; Coşkun 2016b.
74 Wörrle 1988: 451–​4. SEG 37–​859.
75 Polybios 8.23 mentions a Mithridates, son of Antiochis, for events in 212. Grainger 1997: 15, 22, 51
assumes that the Mithridates of 197 is Antiochos IV, while Ogden 2010: 139 sees in him the son of
Antiochis.
76 Polyb. 20.8; Diod. 29.2; Liv. 36.11 (amoris causa).

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77 Schmitt 1964: 11–​12; Ogden 2010: 137–​8.

78 For the terms ἀρχιέρεια and ἀρχιερεύς, see SEG 37–​1010.
79 Rougemont 2012: no. 66.
80 Polyb. 25.4.8; App. Mak. 11.2; Liv. 42.12.3–​4. Cf. Seibert 1967: 69; Grainger 1997: 49–​50.
81 Diod. 30.7.2; Ioann. Antioch. Fr. 58 (FHG IV p. 558). Cf. Grainger 1997: 23; Ogden 2010: 142.
82 Ogden 2010: 142.
83 App. Syr. 46 and 66; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.9 = Euseb. I 253–​4 Schoene.
84 2 Makk. 4.30. Ogden 2010: 143.
85 Memnon BNJ 434 F22, App. Mithr. 112, Sallust F II.54; Seneca, Controv. 7.1.15, 7.3.4. Cf. Ogden
2010: 143, 166, n. 152; Sullivan 1990: 36.
86 Common coin portraits: Gardner 1878, 50, 1–​2.
87 Grainger 1997: 39–​42.
88 Details offered by Ogden 2010: 145. Liv. Epit. 52 calls Balas a homo ignotus incertae stirpis. The Jewish
tradition believes in his descent from Antiochos IV (1 Makk. 10.1; Jos. Ant. 13.2.1 and 13.4.1).
89 Houghton, Lorber and Hoover 2008: no. 1841. See www.cngcoins.com/​Coin.aspx?CoinID=94592
(accessed June 10, 2020).
90 Ogden 2010: 148.
91 Just. 36.1.1–​6 and 38.9.2–​10; Jos. Ant. 13.5.1; 1 Makk. 14.3; App. Syr. 67; Porphyrios BNJ 260
F32.16 = Euseb. I 255–​8 Schoene.
92 Just. 36.1.9; Jos. Ant. 13.7.1–​2; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.16 = Euseb. I 255 Schoene. Cf. Macurdy
1932: 97.
93 Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.20 = Euseb. I 257 Schoene. Cf. Macurdy 1932: 99. Appian (Syr. 68) claims
that Antiochos VII had one son.
94 Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.20 = Euseb. I 257 Schoene; Just. 38.10.10; cf. Diodorus 34/​35.17.
95 Ogden 2010: 150 assumes that Eusebius/​Porphyrios confuses Seleukos V, the son of Demetrios II,
with the son of Antiochos VII, also called Seleukos. Bellinger 1949: 59 n. 4, and Grainger 1997: 66
believe that this Seleukos was Antiochos VII’s own son. Bouché-​Leclercq 1913–​14: 386 claims that he
was the son of Demetrios II.
96 Just. 39.1.1-​9; tortured to death: Jos. Ant. 13.13.9.3. Murder by Kleopatra: Liv. Epit. 60; App. Syr.
68–​9/​360); Porphyrios BNJ 260 F32.21 = Euseb. I 257–​8 Schoene. Cf. Bellinger 1949: 63–​4,
with n. 22.
97 Houghton, Lorber and Hoover 2008: no. 2258. See Macurdy 1932: 98–​9; Bellinger 1949: 64;
Houghton 1988.
98 Houghton, Lorber and Hoover 2008: no. 2271.
99 Diod. 34.28; Just. 39.2.1–​3 and 5–​9; Jos. Ant. 13.9.3; App. Syr. 69; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 32.23–​
24 = Euseb. I 257–​8 Schoene. See Bevan 1902, II: 251; Macurdy 1932: 99–​101.
100 Just. 39.2.7–​8. See Ogden 2010: 151.
101 Bellinger 1949: 66–​7.
102 Jos. Ant. 13.13.4; Cf. Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 32.23–​5 = Euseb. I 259–​60 Schoene.
103 Jos. Ant. 13.13.4; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 32.23–​6 = Euseb. I 259–​62 Schoene. Cf. Bellinger 1949: 72
n. 62; Sullivan 1990: 65–​8, 356, n. 9.
104 Dumitru 2016.
105 Grainger 1997: 45.
106 Seibert 1967; Ogden 2010. Possible are more links of the Seleukids to Graeco-​Bactria (see Wenghofer
and Houle in SRW, 191–​208) but they must be verified by new evidence.
107 D’Agostini 2016b.
108 Jos. Bell. 1.476–​477. Sullivan 1990: 185, 300.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

SRW Coşkun, A. and McAuley, A. (eds.) 2016. Seleukid Royal Women: Creation, Representation and
Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship in the Seleukid Empire. Stuttgart.

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Harders, A.-​C. 2016. “The Making of a Queen: Seleukos Nikator and His Wives.” In SRW, 25–​38.
Heckel, W. 2006. Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great: Prosopography of Alexander's Empire. Malden,
MA and London.
Holleaux, M. 1912. “Ardys et Mithridates.” Hermes 47: 481–​91.
Holleaux, M. 1942. “Le décret des Milésiens en l‘honneur d’Apamé.” In M. Holleaux, Études d’épigraphie et
d’histoire grecques, vol. 3. Paris, 99–​110.
Holt, F.L. 1988. Alexander the Great and Bactria. Leiden and New York.
Hoover, O.D. 2002. “Two Seleucid Notes: II. Laodice IV on the Bronze Coinage of Seleucus IV and
Antiochus IV.” American Journal of Numismatics 14: 81–​7.
Houghton, A. 1988. “The Double Portrait Coins of Alexander I Balas and Cleopatra Thea.” Schweizerische
Numismatische Rundschau 67: 85–​93.
Houghton, A., Lorber, C., and Hoover, O. 2008. Seleucid Coins II. New York.
Kosmin, P. 2014. “Seeing Double in Seleucid Babylonia: Rereading the Borsippa Cylinder of Antiochus
I.” In A. Moreno and R. Thomas (eds.), Patterns of the Past: Epitēdeumata in the Greek Tradition. Oxford,
173–​98.

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Lehmann, G.A. 1998. “Expansionspolitik im Zeitalter des Hochhellenismus: Die Anfangsphase des
‘Laodike-​Krieges’ 246/​5 v.Chr.” In T. Hantos and G.A. Lehmann (eds.), Althistorisches Kolloquium aus
Anlaß des 70. Geburtstages von J. Bleicken. Stuttgart, 81–​102.
Macurdy, G.H. 1932. Hellenistic Queens. Baltimore.
Martinez-​Sève, L. 2003. “Laodice, femme d’Antiochos II: du roman à la reconstruction historique.” Revue
des Études Grecques 116: 690–​706.
McAuley, A. 2017a. “Once a Seleucid, Always a Seleucid: Seleucid Princesses and Their Nuptial Courts.”
In A. Erskine and L. Llewellyn-​Jones (eds.), The Hellenistic Court. Swansea, 189–​212.
McAuley, A. 2017b. “Mother Knows Best: Motherhood and Succession in the Seleucid Realm.” In
D. Cooper et al. (eds.), Motherhood in Antiquity. Basel, 79–​106.
McAuley, A. 2018a.“The House of Achaios: Reconstructing an Early Client Dynasty of Seleukid Anatolia.”
In K. Erickson (ed.), The Seleukid Empire, 281–​222 BC. Swansea, 37–​58.
McAuley, A. 2018b. “The tradition and ideology of naming Seleukid Queens.” Historia 67, 4: 472–​94.
Mehl, A. 1986. Seleukos Nikator und sein Reich. Leuven.
Müller, S. 2009a. “Inventing traditions –​Genealogie und Legitimation in den hellenistischen Reichen.” In
H. Brandt et al. (eds.), Genealogisches Bewusstsein als Legitimation. Bamberg, 61–​82.
Müller, S. 2009b. Das hellenistische Königspaar in der medialen Repräsentation: Ptolemaios II. und Arsinoë II.
Berlin.
Müller, S. 2013.“The Female Element in the Political Self-​Fashioning of the Diadochoi: Ptolemy, Seleucus,
Lysimachus and Their Iranian Wives.” In V. Alonso Troncoso and E. Anson (eds.), After Alexander: The
Time of the Diadochi. Oxford, 199–​214.
Ogden, D. 2010 [first published 1999]. Polygamy, Prostitutes, and Death: The Hellenistic Dynasties. Swansea.
Olbrycht, M.J. 1998. Parthia et ulteriores gentes. Munich.
Olbrycht, M.J. 2013. “Iranians in the Diadochi Period.” In V. Alonso Troncoso and E. Anson (eds.), After
Alexander: The Time of the Diadochi. Oxford, 159–​82.
Pridik, A. 1935–​6. Berenice, die Schwester des Königs Ptolemaios III Euergetes. Dorpat.
Robert, L. 1984.“Pline VI 49, Demodamas de Milet et la reine Apame.” Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique
108: 467–​72.
Rougemont, G. 2012. Inscriptions grecques d’Iran et d’Asie central. London.
Schmitt, H.H. 1964. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte Antiochos’ des Grossen und seiner Zeit. Stuttgart.
Seibert, J. 1967. Historische Beiträge zu den dynastischen Verbindungen in hellenistischer Zeit. Stuttgart.
Shahbazi, S.A. 1987. “Apama.” Encyclopaedia Iranica II: 150–​1.
Sherwin-​White, S. and Kuhrt, A. 1993. From Samarkhand to Sardis: A New Approach to the Seleucid Empire.
London.
Sullivan, R.D. 1990. Near Eastern Royalty and Rome, 100–​33 BC. Toronto.
Tarn, W.W. 1929. “Queen Ptolemais and Apama.” Classical Quarterly 23: 138–​41.
Vatin, C. 1970. Recherches sur le mariage et la condition de la femme mariée à l’époque hellénistique. Paris.
Westermann, A. 1964. Biographoi: vitarum scriptores Graeci minores. Amsterdam.
Wörrle, M. 1975. “Antiochos I, Achaios der Ältere und die Galater. Eine neue Inschrift in Denizli.” Chiron
5: 59–​87.
Wörrle, M. 1988. “Inschriften von Herakleia am Latmus I: Antiochos III, Zeuxis und Herakleia.” Chiron
18: 421–​76.

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16
APAMA AND STRATONIKE
The first Seleukid basilissai

Gillian Ramsey

Apama and Stratonike were the two founding female members of the Seleukid dynasty. They
shared much in common, including a husband (Seleukos I), and yet they seem rather dissimilar
in the ancient testimonies. Apama was the first wife, Stratonike the second and a generation
younger, and never do they both feature in a story. In fact, considering them together is a fruitful
exercise for uncovering early Seleukid women’s political engagement. This is something not
often pursued by scholarship to date nor immediately apparent in the source material, since
what ancient narratives that do exist about the two women’s lives focus on sex and wedlock and
not their similarities or royal authority. In fact, their political agency not only helped create the
Seleukid empire, but also set a template for future behavior by their descendants.
The apparent difference between Apama and Stratonike lies mainly in the available lit-
erary sources. Classical authors mention Apama in passing; she is not the main subject of any
passage, but is either part of a list or an ancillary detail. By piecing together those remarks
we can glean a brief biography for her. She was married to Seleukos I, and was mother of
Antiochos I and an eponym of one of his city foundations.1 She was also eponym for a few
of Seleukos’ new cities.2 Her marriage was part of Alexander the Great’s grandiose mass-​
wedding at Susa in 324 BCE,3 where she and many other daughters of Persian leaders were
paired off with Macedonian officers.4 In addition to her son, she had two daughters: Apama
and Laodike.5
Stratonike receives a somewhat fuller treatment in classical literature, as one of the characters
in a courtly romance. She married Seleukos I c. 300/​299 BCE as part of his alliance with
her father Demetrios the Besieger, and bore him a daughter, Phila, named after Stratonike’s
mother.6 Over the next few years, her proximity to Apama’s son inspired in the youth an irre-
sistible passion for her, which developed into morbid lovesickness. A clever court physician
diagnosed the problem and staged an intervention so that Seleukos gladly handed over his
affecting young wife to his son, along with half his kingdom.7 She then had four more children
with Antiochos: Seleukos, Antiochos (II), Apama, and Stratonike.
Stratonike is a passive character in the romance, doing nothing except existing as an object of
desire, which for our purposes here makes it not the most useful source on her personality and
agency. Perhaps unsurprisingly, over the years, scholars of many disciplines, writers, and artists
alike have been fascinated by the erotic and psychological drama, fixating especially on the bed-
room scene, when Stratonike visits her stepson’s sickbed. Ingres’ 1840 La Maladie d’Antiochos

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immortalized the modern vision of the moment, and simultaneously fixed Stratonike’s role as
the maddeningly lovely and yet innocent love interest. There is considerable material out there
pertaining to this story, ranging from the medieval to postmodern. Its reception is particularly
strong in the medical and psychological fields, for which it is cited as antiquity’s representative
example of lovesickness.8
An additional erotic story about Stratonike surfaces in De Dea Syria. This time she is the
lovesick one, and the hapless object of her passion is the gorgeous young courtier Kombabos.
The main actor behind it all is the goddess Hera, who is punishing Stratonike for neglecting
to build her a temple at Hierapolis; tied into the tale is an etiology for the Galli priests’ self-​
castration—​after the actions of Kombabos, who takes steps to preserve his innocence. For her
part, Stratonike is totally incapable of self-​control toward Kombabos. The text presents two
alternate endings, one where she calms down but Antiochos desires vengeance for the presumed
adultery, and another where she condemns Kombabos herself.9 Scholars have discussed how
this account gives us another chapter in the courtly Seleukid Romance, akin to the Alexander
Romance, and drawing upon a host of Near Eastern romance motifs.10 This enriches our recon-
struction of the courtly culture surrounding the historical Stratonike (and Apama), but does
complicate efforts to unload the romantic baggage from these women’s capacity for Realpolitik.11
A further piece of ancient evidence testifies to Stratonike’s sexualized literary associations.
This is the Antiochos Cylinder, a foundation inscription deposited by Antiochos I in 268
BCE when he refurbished the Ezida temple in Borsippa. In it the king refers to “Stratonike,
his consort, the queen” (faš-​ta-​ar-​ta-​ni-​ik-​ku hi-​rat-​su šar-​ra-​at).12 Her name as written here—​
Astartanikku—​is not an Akkadization of the Greek Stratonike. Rather, it seems to reference the
goddess Astarte and one of the Akkadian words for sex, niku, and thus also Stratonike’s romantic
reputation.13 That this was not a one-​time wordplay but more of an epithet is evidenced by
her death notice in the Babylonian astronomical diaries, which report that in the autumn of
254 BCE “fAs-​ta-​rat-​ni-​qé queen died in Sardis.”14 As for the Cylinder’s title hirat, here translated
“consort,” the Assyrian term hirtu (“wife of equal status with the husband”) arguably comes
from the realm of literature, not family law. So when Sennacherib had used it for Tasmetum-​
sarrat he praised her as a beloved sexual partner, but as his wifely peer only in a fictive sense.
This implies that when Antiochos called Stratonike hirtu he added an archaic romantic literary
dimension to the cylinder’s text.15
Such a choice, combined with the spelling of her name, resonates with the sex-​obsessed clas-
sical literary tradition surrounding Stratonike. Scholars on the Cylinder as a whole, including
the treatment of the queen in it, still debate what sort of royal ideology lies behind it, how
involved the Seleukid court was in its making, and how exceptional it is as a royal produc-
tion.16 The sexualization of a Hellenistic royal woman, however, whether by literary trope or
cultic association, was not exceptional. Several early Hellenistic royal women received cultic
honors in Greek cities linking them to Aphrodite. The Athenians honored Stratonike’s mother
as “Phila Aphrodite,” and her father’s hetairai (courtesans) Lamia and Leaina also received cultic
honors.17 Among the Ptolemies, Berenike I, Arsinoë I, and Ptolemy II’s hetaira Bilistiche were
all associated with cultic honors for Aphrodite. At Delos, Stratonike herself received an agalma,
understood as a cult statue, and perhaps also a sanctuary (temenos) during her life,18 and she had
a posthumous cult as Stratonike Aphrodite at Smyrna.19
Neither is Apama’s story devoid of the possibility for romantic speculation. Grace Macurdy
suggests that Seleukos I was “glad enough” to pass off his problematic young wife to Antiochos
and return to beloved faithful Apama.20 Aside from the significance of assuming that Apama
was still alive and Seleukos was polygamous, her comment alludes to the fact that of all the
pairings Alexander made at Susa, only Apama and Seleukos’ lasted beyond a few years.There are

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clear pragmatic reasons for their enduring partnership, and it is quite possible to argue that the
romance was a completely fictionalized explanation of otherwise sound decisions for empire-​
building,21 but the temptation to characterize their union in erotic terms is still strong.22
Though Stratonike plays the biggest part in the Seleukid courtly romance, she is by no
means the only early Hellenistic woman to see herself represented with sexual connotations in
literature and epigraphy, or to be suspected by modern scholars of having them.23 The question
about her royal career then becomes: given that she carried this association with fabled sexual
passion, not necessarily of her own choosing, did she or could she conduct any part of that
career apart from this label? We have an example of Stratonike’s own self-​representation in
religious dedications, in which her sex life features not at all, but her royal status and title do.
Consideration of the titles for both Stratonike and Apama opens up a wider basis for comparing
their status and agency.

Royal titles
Temple treasury inventories from the island of Delos list Stratonike as a royal donor, noting
that she dedicated numerous gold and silver items at least as early as 278 BCE,24 in particular
two valuable jewelry collections. Some of the items she had engraved with the label “basilissa
Stratonike daughter of basileus Demetrios and basilissa Phila.”25 Throughout the rest of the inven-
tory the record-​keepers listed her dedications under the title and name basilissa Stratonike, in
keeping with the way she identified herself.26 A separate early-​third-​century Delian inscription
refers to cult statues (agalmata) of Asklepios and basilissa Stratonike.27 Apama had also appeared
with the title basilissa earlier, when the Milesians decreed honors for her in 299/​298 BCE after
meeting with her at the royal court28 and set up her statue at Didyma with an inscribed base,
probably at the same time.29
The title basilissa is a feminine version of the masculine basileus, a title typically translated as
“king.” Basilissa is commonly translated as the English “queen,” itself a problematic term since it
connotes both a consort and (nowadays) a woman ruling in her own right.What basilissa origin-
ally meant to Apama, Stratonike, and the people who referred to them by that title seems about
as flexible. There are a few angles to consider: first, the earlier usages of the title that provided
the jumping-​off point for its Seleukid adoption; second, the contexts in which the title was
employed, which give a sense of what benefit its use was seen to confer; third, the extent to
which the title denoted a specific role or office among the early Seleukids.

Early usages
Basilissa appears a few times in classical Athenian literature, in a mix of isolated references and
slightly longer remarks which give a sense of the basilissa’s possible roles. For example, Alkaios,
an Old Comedian, is said to have used the term in his Ganymede, but the fragment consists of
that solitary term without any context.30 Similarly, Aristotle reportedly used the term in his
commentary on Homer.31 Xenophon uses it as a simile for the well-​ordered housewife, who
must be “like a basilissa” in how she metes out praise for good behavior and punishes bad.32 In
an orthographic variation, Demosthenes reports that in ancient times the wife of the Athenian
archon basileus was the basilinna, who conducted rituals forbidden to everyone else.33 In one of
his comedies, Menander has a character who wishes to be made basilinna of the Attic deme
Trikorythos as her wedding present.34
Xenophon’s usage gives a sense of the authority imagined for a basilissa, not so much to issue
commands (for his housewife is carrying out the precepts of her economically-​wise husband),

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but to police moral conduct in the household. Demosthenes’ remark echoes this sense of the
basilissa being helpmate to the leader and enforcer of his obligations. The association of basilissa
with wifehood also comes through in Menander’s usage.
One odd example of the title comes from Athenaios regarding Harpalos of Babylon, who
reportedly favored two of his hetairai, Pythionike and Glykera, with cultic honors for Aphrodite
and the title basilissa. Although writing centuries later, Athenaios cites Theopompos’ Letter
to Alexander and Philemon’s The Babylonian, authors both contemporary to the episode in
question.35 This may be the exception which proves the rule: Harpalos is such an outlier that his
eccentricities confirm that the cohort of early Hellenistic dynasties had more traditional roles
for a basilissa, especially the association with wifehood and the idea that she had authority and
specific duties going along with it.36 On the other hand, the sexualization of basilissa Stratonike
in Seleukid lands, including Babylon, means that we cannot rule out Harpalos’ treatment of his
ladies as a lingering influence. It must be noted, however, that even though Stratonike had two
basileus husbands, she only ever used the title for herself in her dedications by referencing her
parents, giving the impression that for her personally the title basilissa primarily signified royal
daughter, not consort.

The title’s benefits

Once the various Hellenistic dynasties embraced the title basilissa at the end of the fourth
century, the epigraphic instances of it became much more numerous, and after Apama and
Stratonike’s generation it was de rigueur for many Hellenistic royal women. Early on, it was
also the title for Phila, Stratonike’s mother; Stratonike’s dedicatory inscriptions did not intro-
duce a posthumous title. A late fourth-​century Samian decree found on Kos mentions honors
being performed for basilissa Phila, and a temenos assigned to her.37 Another decree found in the
Heraion at Samos reports that a certain benefactor was spending time with basilissa Phila and
thus serving as the Samians’ advocate at her court.38 Similarly and at about the same time, the
Ephesians praised their own benefactor for his sojourn in the presence of basilissa Phila.39
Phila’s and Apama’s titulature come in the same way: other entities, here the poleis Miletos,
Samos, Ephesos, and also Athens describe the women as basilissai, and always in honorific
contexts. This raises the question of whether the cities chose to use this title to show their
high esteem for the royal women, or were complying with demands from the royal courts
or the women themselves. If it was the cities’ initiative, then the earlier Athenian context for
the title suggests that civic leaders viewed these women as powerful wives with the authority
and responsibility to enforce their husbands’ decrees and policies. They likely also saw that
the women had significant ceremonial responsibilities, given that they interacted with both
Phila and Apama through visiting the royal courts, and this would also have fit well with the
connotations of the Athenian priestly and literary basilissa.
As far as the evidence goes, if the new Hellenistic rulers were demanding the title basilissa
for their wives and daughters, it was a very new notion and not rooted in older Macedonian
tradition. It is possible that Adea Eurydike could have introduced the title for herself, given her
royal ancestry and ambitions at obtaining ruling power, and thus gave the idea to the others.40
But Phila is the first attested Hellenistic basilissa, and Apama a close second.41 If the new dyn-
asties came to require the title as a sign of respect, they probably got the idea from the cities
and thought it fit nicely with their aspirations. The traditional language of the polis provided a
lexicon for new monarchical power and dominance.
Later, Stratonike clearly chose to use the title for both herself and her mother, since it
appears in her own dedicatory inscriptions. But Stratonike belongs to the second generation

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of Hellenistic basilissai, Apama and Phila to the first. Having a previous generation who had
regularly received the title likely gave her license to use it more assertively. For the first gener-
ation, the benefit of adopting basilissa lay in how it enhanced the early formation of Hellenistic
rulership concepts. In a single word it articulated the women’s royal pedigree with allusions to
religious prestige, and so conferred legitimacy on the men they married. When cities used the
title and the women and their families responded positively, it increased the acceptance of royal
dominance and facilitated a new political dynamic between cities and dynasties.
Phila’s career provides some comparative insight for interpreting Apama as a first-​generation
basilissa. Phila’s marriage to Stratonike’s father was at least her third, conducted in 320 BCE,
when she must have been in her mid-​thirties. She had previously been married to Balakros the
Persian satrap of Cilicia (in the 320s), and to Krateros (from c. 321–​320) with whom she had
a son, Krateros.42 A possible first husband in the 330s was Macedonian nobleman Alexander of
Lynkestis, who we know was married to one of Antipater’s daughters.43 The key figure orches-
trating these marriages was Phila’s father Antipater, whose own escalation toward monarchical
power mirrored hers and those of her last two husbands—​every major player of the late fourth
century was aiming at monarchy. The years 306 and 305 BCE were the most significant, when
all the self-​proclaimed male successors to Alexander the Great adopted the title basileus: not
just Apama’s husband and Phila’s last husband, but also Phila’s brother (Kassandros), father-​in-​
law (Antigonos Monophthalmos), and two brothers-​in-​law (Nikaia’s husband Lysimachos and
Eurydike’s husband Ptolemy I).44 Antipater was already dead by this period, but the marriages
he arranged for his daughters wrought quite a legacy in early Hellenistic experiments with the
legitimization of new monarchies.There is a strong impression here that marrying an Antipatrid
woman brought with it the potential for greater royal legitimacy. The women carried high
enough Macedonian status in themselves to give the necessary impetus for their spouses to
identify as basileis.
As noted above (p. 186), Apama’s marriage to Seleukos has the distinction of being the
only Susa pairing which stood the test of time. Among the Persian wives at Susa, Apama was
not unusual: they were all daughters of Persian royalty or royally-​connected families with
ancient claims to territorial authority. Even more than Phila, Apama could justifiably claim
to be a basilissa on the basis of her ancestry. She was daughter of Spitamenes, who had ruled
Sogdia for Darios III and led the Persian campaign against Alexander the Great after deposing
Bessos in 329, making him a contender for the Persian kingship. She shares a name with earlier
generations of Achaimenid women, suggesting that her mother, though unknown, may have
come from that dynasty.45 Later, Curtius, probably using early Hellenistic and anti-​Seleukid
propaganda, wrote how Apama’s mother betrayed Spitamenes and killed him herself. This may
or may not have succeeded in making Apama, and consequently Seleukos, look bad; either way
it was a clear characterization of her mother as a woman of decisive action.46
As a high-​status Persian woman, until Alexander intervened, Apama would have expected
to inherit economic authority in her family’s territory. Arrian tells us that she and the other
women married at Susa all received dowries from the conqueror. His playing out this paternal-
istic fantasy should not disguise the harsh reality that the money came from the women’s own
family coffers, and that they undoubtedly received back a mere fraction of what was rightfully
theirs.47 Apama was well-​equipped in terms of her social capital, though no longer had all her
monetary capital, to pursue a queenly career, and she brought all this to her marriage with
Seleukos. That he ended up claiming the Eastern regions—​her home territory—​as his portion
of Alexander’s legacy was fortunate for both of them.48
This is the context for understanding the title basilissa: Apama and Phila, and later Stratonike,
had inherited power and influence from their families and brought this to their careers as

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spouses of would-​be kings. Those men could justify their claims to rulership because they had
married women who deserved the title basilissa.
Stratonike’s marriages in the Seleukid dynasty were further steps in experimenting with legit-
imacy. Her role as an Antipatrid and Antigonid basilissa brought authority in the Mediterranean
sphere, just when relationships between the royal families needed to be redefined after her
father’s defeat and Seleukos’ victory at Ipsos in 301. Plutarch gives the account of her marriage,
how Seleukos requested Stratonike in marriage because he needed an alliance with Demetrios
to counterbalance other marriage-​alliances being forged by Ptolemy I. Phila joined her daughter
and the two kings at Rhosos, Syria for several days of festivities before departing to handle a
political dispute with her brother Kassandros, and then Seleukos helped the already polygamous
Demetrios broker another marriage with Ptolemaïs, daughter of Ptolemy. Turmoil between the
kings erupted almost immediately after; nevertheless it is clear that Stratonike’s first marriage
fits into a complex sequence of inter-​state negotiations, for which the physical and familial
movements of basilissai were integral.49
Stratonike’s second marriage was an experiment internal to the Seleukid family, laying
the basis for the representation of dynastic cohesion and a stable succession. Setting aside the
romantic reading of motivations, in purely political terms, Stratonike transferred all her weight
as basilissa to Antiochos, bringing it to bear on his new responsibility for ruling the eastern
Seleukid empire. This in itself is interesting: that the Seleukids at this time saw feasibility in
dispatching a western basilissa to become a very successful Eastern leader. Stratonike had had
approximately eight years already in which to grow into her role as a Seleukid dynasty founder.
Her move to be with Antiochos perhaps represents the point when those years of work came to
fruition for her own benefit, plus the benefit of both her husbands, and Apama too.

The basilissa’s duties?

That early Hellenistic basilissai brought legitimacy to the male rulers with whom they associated
works as a way to explain certain marital choices of the late fourth and early third centuries.
Beyond the basilissa’s influence and connections, though, a perennial question for scholars is
whether her title denoted a specific office and standard duties. It would make things easier to be
able to state definitively that any basilissa who appears in the source material can be described
with the same set of responsibilities and powers regardless of her context. This was not the
case. In a technical sense, the title basilissa is best understood as a kinship term, denoting a royal
woman who possesses that identity mainly as the daughter of royalty, and secondarily as a con-
sort to a basileus.
As a comparison, Phila’s slightly better documented queenly career provides at least some
comparative basis for speculating what Apama and Stratonike did as basilissai. Already noted
above (p. 192) are the inscriptions describing how Phila hosted ambassadors from Greek poleis,
implying that she ran a court where they could visit her and that she had the resources to do
them favors and intervene in any troublesome situations—​the usual responses by any Hellenistic
monarch to civic embassies. This kind of setup is precisely the same as for male rulers, and the
inscriptions give a sense of Phila’s independence in that work. Literary sources also provide
episodes testifying to Phila’s acumen as an advisor to her father and husbands, as well as her
responsibility for supervising the community in Demetrios’ military camp, akin to Xenophon’s
housewife.50
Both Apama and Stratonike lived through situations similar enough to Phila’s for us to
expect that they had plenty of opportunities to lead just like she did, if they wished. One item
from Apama’s career does indicate that she took the initiative in making political interventions

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and orchestrating benefactions. In a decree dated to 299, the Milesian citizen and Seleukid
general Demodamas instigated honors in gratitude for Apama’s “goodwill and zeal” (eunoia and
prothymia) to Milesian soldiers under his command.51 The longstanding interpretation is that she
must have helped this cohort during their deployment to her father’s old territories of Sogdia
and Bactria during the years when Seleukos was consolidating his control there.52 Beyond the
similarity to Phila’s leadership in the army camp—​even if that was all she had been doing, it
would be enough to warrant the later gratitude—​Apama could also have been leveraging old
family connections in the region to assist the soldiers. It is noteworthy that Apama is praised
for her current enthusiastic support of Milesian ambassadors to court, a similar scenario seen
with Phila, where the basilissa hosts embassies and presides over their presentation of requests.53
Concerning Stratonike, there is one reference to her in the Astronomical Diaries, stating that in
274 during the build-​up to the First Syrian War she was stationed at Sardis, one of the Seleukid
royal capitals, with a high-​ranking general.54 She could have been playing a role in the wartime
strategy, since the fight concerned territories in southern Anatolia.These two examples support
the idea that a Seleukid basilissa had an obligation, if not an express duty, to aid the military
ambitions and political undertakings of her dynasty.
Stratonike evidently retained the Akkadian royal title used for her even after Antiochos’
death, since the astronomical diary entry identifies her as šarratu, in logograms GAŠAN, which
means “queen.” In earlier centuries under previous regimes this title could not be used of a royal
woman unless she also ruled.55 As suggestive as this is, there is no direct corroborating evidence
for Stratonike exercising rulership, unless we credit her influence with her children (see p. 193)
as a form of political dominance. The trope of the domineering dowager queen mother should
be familiar enough from interpretations of other royal families throughout history. But the
diary, normally fairly precise in noting royal family connections, does not call her “mother of
the king,” meaning that at least some people remembered Stratonike as a queenly figure on her
own, without reference to male relatives. This is an interesting hint at how these royal women
could carry out their duties so as to be regarded as individual rulers in their own right.
There is one clear early Hellenistic example of a regnant basilissa: Amastris, who ruled
Herakleia Pontika after the death of her husband, its tyrant Dionysios. She eponymously
founded the neighboring city of Amastris c. 300 BCE, and from there issued coins bearing the
legend “of basilissa Amastris” (ΑΜΑΣΤΡΙΟΣ ΒΑΣΙΛΙΣΣΗΣ).56 Like many other women ruling
as monarchs, Amastris came into direct power because her husband had died and her sons were
under age. She brought her own royal credentials to the situation, however, as a niece of Dareios
III (daughter of his brother Oxyathres). Like Apama, Alexander had married her to one of his
generals (Krateros).57 After 323 Krateros swapped her for Phila, and she moved to Herakleia
to live with Dionysios, who, as Memnon tells us later (probably after 306), began to call him-
self basileus.58 Although supervising the regency for her sons, Amastris faced interventions by
Antigonos Monophthalmos, ostensibly on the children’s behalf, to control Herakleia, and then
by Lysimachos, who also married her.59 By 300 she was solo again with no outside interference,
and her foundation of Amastris marks the point when she fully embraced the role of a regnant
basilissa. Although her sons soon came of age, she maintained this role until they assassinated her
c. 284.60 Memnon relates that her sons ruled at Herakleia,61 while Amastris’ coin issues point to
that city as her own base.
Like Apama and Stratonike, Amastris had royal pedigree in her own right from at least
one of her parents, and she was also heavily involved in the early Hellenistic marriage cir-
cuit as different leaders tested possible alignments with each other. Unlike those women, she
managed to side-​step all this after a few years and set up almost two decades of independent rule.
This came, however, at the cost of establishing a political legacy, since (other than Lysimachos’

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conveniently too-​late recollection of his dear, deceased wife)62 she had no successors who
valued her career or queenly identity as the basis for their future rule—​something which Apama
and Stratonike did have.

Apama and Stratonike’s legacy

An important aspect of Apama and Stratonike’s careers as basilissai for the Seleukids is their cre-
ation of the dynasty. In a basic sense, they established the succession through childbearing, and,
for Stratonike, through marriage to the heir. As well as the production of sons, both women also
had daughters, and we know for certain that Stratonike’s daughters and granddaughters married
into the other Hellenistic royal families, taking with them their own Seleukid basilissa status and
legitimacy, as well as lessons learned about how to rule.
To return to the sexualization of Stratonike, there is no evidence that her particular
identifications were perpetuated by later generations either in references to her or anyone else,
other than the cult for her at Smyrna (see p. 187). Fixations on sexual (mis)behavior by ancient
writers are common enough that we could not attribute such to her specific influence.We should
note, however, that her daughter Apama, who married Magas of Kyrene, was involved in a scandal
after his death when she made plans for her daughter to marry an Antigonid prince (Demetrios
“the Fair”) instead of Ptolemy III and promptly started an affair with her new son-​in-​law.63 Here
succession politics, inter-​dynasty alliances, and courtly romance all tie together in a familiar way.
Arguably, Apama of Kyrene’s preference for an Antigonid connection might be attributed
to her mother’s birth-​family loyalties, especially since her sister Stratonike married Demetrios
II around the same time, c. 260–​255.64 These actions could represent some the last of their
mother’s policies before her death in 254 (see p. 192). Shortly after it, Antiochos II made a new
marriage with a Ptolemaic princess, an attempt at realigning his alliances which might have
been a reaction to being out from under his mother’s domineering leadership.
As a specific policy headed up by Stratonike, one clear example concerns Delos and
Stratonike’s ongoing cultivation of a good reputation in the islands’ records. Her own dedications
and the honors paid her there were echoed in honors paid to her daughter Phila on the occasion
of her marriage, and, perhaps, in dedications by her eldest son.65 Having a particular focus on
the Aegean actually dovetails with the question of Antigonid or Ptolemaic alliances among her
children, since those dynasties also rivaled one another in donations to the island’s temples.66
It is no surprise that Stratonike encouraged Seleukid links to the western political scene; after
all, this was her mission as basilissa from day one of her first marriage. That she favored her own
birth-​family makes sense: she was basilissa because of her parents.
For a specific policy belonging to Apama, the Milesian connection offers one possibility.
Again, the image of the basilissa encouraging her children in emulating her behavior appears,
since shortly before Demodamas praised Apama for her goodwill, her son Antiochos made
a grand donation for a new stoa.67 Seleukid attention to Miletos and Didyma is most often
connected to Seleukos I, since he is remembered for returning the cult statue of Apollo taken
by Xerxes,68 but clearly it was a family affair, and Apama’s regard for the project was just as
important. It is only speculation, but there is nothing to say that it was not Apama who had
the idea of returning the statues. The only impediment is the convention of attributing all the
great actions of a king to him and him alone, without consideration of the various advisors,
including his wife, who encouraged his decisions. (Unless, of course, those advisors are manipu-
lating an exotic and scandalous story like Stratonike with young Antiochos; then commentators
do take note.)

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Gillian Ramsey

One area where Apama’s activity at Miletos compares to Amastris as regnant basilissa is that
of managing royal territory and the interactions with local groups, an absolutely crucial element
of Seleukid authority, just as her city foundation underpinned Amastris’ claim to rulership.
Amastris had Persian royal heritage, but was adrift in the early Hellenistic scene, without a clear
relationship to a land, until she established a new connection with her eponymous city. Apama
was also uprooted, but by good fortune could revisit old family ties in the East once Seleukos
began campaigning there. Through the presence of Milesian soldiers in that venue, she could
then transmute political advantages throughout the East into new favors and acceptance in the
West. The practice of a Seleukid basilissa cultivating good relationships with cities ruled by the
dynasty was maintained throughout later generations.69
The eponymous naming is another comparison with Amastris as a ruler, mostly in the way
that founding and naming cities created the basis for a relationship between dynastic and civic
identities, and gave opportunity for the basilissa’s memory to endure. Amastris the city was the
basilissa Amastris’ only real legacy. Apama had several eponymous cities throughout the Seleukid
empire, either known or assumed to have been founded by Seleukos, although one source says
Apamea-​Pella was named after Apama her daughter.70 It is worth asking the question: how
involved could Apama senior have been in the creations of the various Apameas? Sherwin-​
White and Kuhrt observe that, generations later, the romance of the joint foundations Apamea
and Seleukeia at Zeugma on the Euphrates provided a suitably fabled venue for Antiochos
III’s wedding ceremony to Laodike.71 It is quite within the realm of possibility that the first-​
generation royal couple had also staged a grand spectacle, including the instrumental presence of
Apama herself, at the two cities’ foundation. Such an event would then establish the significance
between the pair of cities and a royal marriage, to be recalled and echoed almost a century later.

Conclusion
What we know about Apama and Stratonike’s careers as founding Seleukid basilissai is per-
haps not surprising, if one really thinks through the history of constructing and categorizing
women’s ruling power. They are remembered through their relationships with husbands and
sons, and the accomplishments of those men. Looking at the details of these two women’s lives,
and extrapolating from contextual information about them and comparisons with some of their
contemporaries, however, reveals opportunities for many more direct actions in the empire-​
building and consolidation of the early Hellenistic period. These actions were configured as
queenly presiding over court visitations and embassies, expressing concern for certain causes,
and quietly receiving accolades, but they were no less significant for the political viability of
Seleukid ambitions than kingly military conquest. There are also ways in which the women’s
impact upon the dynasty’s character and representation to the wider world can be seen. City
foundations and donations to desirable recipients had an important economic impact, though
one easily forgotten while scandalous romances took a much firmer grip of memories and
imaginations.

Notes
1 Strab. 12.8.15: Strabon confuses her with the daughter of Artabazos, a Persian leader.
2 App. Syr. 57; Livy 38.13.5: Livy here calls her his “sister.”
3 All dates in this chapter are BCE except if otherwise indicated.
4 Arr. Anab. 7.4.6: her father is listed as Spitamenes.
5 Malalas §10.
6 Plut. Dem. 31.3–​32.2.

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Apama and Stratonike

7 App. Syr. 59–​61.

8 As a sample of the literature, see: Stechow 1945; Mesulam and Perry 1972; Beecher 1990; Hatfield and
Rapson 2009.
9 Lukian de dea Syria 19–​27.
10 Ogden 2017; Engels and Erickson 2016: 55–​8.
11 For examinations of the entire Stratonike romance cycle and its political implications, see Almagor
2016; Plischke 2016.
12 col. ii, 26–​7.
13 Kosmin 2014: 187–​8.
14 AD -​253 obv. B16’.
15 Melville 2004: 52, n. 78.
16 For example: Sherwin-​White 1991; Stevens 2014.
17 Ath. 6.253a–​b, 254a, 255c.
18 IG XI,4 514; Carney 2000b: 216, 219.
19 OGI 229, 12; Carney 2000a: 32–​3.
20 Macurdy 1932: 79.
21 Plischke 2016: 341–​343.
22 Engels and Erickson (2016: 56–​57) even suggest reading Firdausi’s Shahnahme version of the Kombabos
story as evidence for a tradition that Apama, not Stratonike, was the lovesick queen.
23 For example, the various women already noted who had Aphrodite cults in their name. Regarding
modern scholarship on women associated with royal power, the line of questioning typically concerns
types of licit or illicit sexual relations with male leaders, whether as wife or courtesan, as though cat-
egorizing this can explain who the women really were.
24 IG XI,2 161, B 15.
25 The less fragmentary copies of the inventory describing the inscriptions date to the early second cen-
tury, eg. ID 421, 61; 439, A 31; 442, B 33.
26 Ramsey 2016: 98–​9.
27 IG XI,4 514.
28 IDidyma 480.
29 IDidyma 113.
30 Alk. Com. 6; Kock 1880: 757.
31 Arist. Fr. 179 (ed. Rose 1886).
32 Xen. Oik. 9.15.
33 Dem. Against Nearia 74.
34 Men. Fr. 907
35 Ath. 13.595a–​e.
36 See Carney 2000a: 30–​1.
37 IG XII,6 1,150.
38 IG XII,6 1,30.
39 IEph. 2003.There are debates over the dating of these inscriptions, whether they belong to the late 300s
or early 200s, although most scholars prefer the earlier dating: Carney 2020.
40 Carney 1991: 156–​7; Carney 2020.
41 Carney 2000b: 225–​7; Carney 2011: 202.
42 Plut. Dem. 14.2; Badian 1988.
43 Curt. 7.1.6-​7.
44 Plut. Dem. 18.1–​2: for Antigonos, Demetrios, Ptolemy, Lysimachos, and Seleukos; everyone then also
referred to Kassandros as basileus, although according to Plutarch he did not claim the title. Based on
epigraphic evidence, however, he did so soon after: Hatzopoulos 1996: no. 23.
45 Ramsey 2016: 90–​1.
46 Curt. 8.2.1–​16; Müller 2013: 207.
47 Arr. Anab. 7.4.8; Ramsey 2016: 90–​1.
48 As attractive as it is to suppose that Seleukos wanted the eastern regions in order to utilize Apama’s
political connections there, Antipater assigned him to be satrap of Babylonia in 320, while Stasanor of
Soli received Baktria and Sogdia: Diod. 18.39.6.
49 Plut. Dem. 31–​33.
50 Diod. 19.59.4.
51 IDidyma 480.

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Gillian Ramsey

52 Robert 1984: 471–​2.

53 Ramsey 2016: 88–​9, 94–​5.
54 AD -​273 B rev. 29’.
55 Melville 2004: 51.
56 Strab. 12.3.10; Head 1911: 505–​6; Cohen 1995: 383.
57 Arr. Anab. 7.4.5.
58 Memnon BNJ 434 F4.6–​9.
59 Diod. 20.109.6–​7.
60 Burstein 1974: 93–​4.
61 Memnon BNJ 434 F5.1–​2.
62 Müller 2013: 210.
63 Just. 26.3.2–​7.
64 McAuley 2016: 184.
65 IG XI,4 1098 and IG XI,2 161 B 15, 77–​78; 162 B 13; 199 B 8–​10.
66 Ramsey 2016: 100–​1.
67 IDidyma 479.
68 Paus. 1.16.3.
69 Ramsey 2011; 2019.
70 See Ogden 2017: 104, 169.
71 Sherwin-​White and Kuhrt 1993: 15. Ogden 2017: 217, n. 24 extrapolates from Sherwin-​White and
Kuhrt’s observation here that “Seleukos had a penchant for making grand public gestures with his
womenfolk.”

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
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Royal Women: Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship in the Seleukid Empire.
Stuttgart, 67–​86.
Badian, E. 1988. “Two Postscripts on the Marriage of Phila and Balacrus.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und
Epigraphik 73: 116–​18.
Beecher, D.A. 1990. “Antiochus and Stratonike: The Heritage of a Medico-​Literary Motif in the Theatre
of the English Renaissance.” The Seventeenth Century 5, 2: 113–​32.
Burstein, S.M. 1974. Outpost of Hellenism: The Emergence of Heraclea on the Black Sea. Berkeley.
Carney, E.D. 1991. “‘What’s in a Name?’ The Emergence of a Title for Royal Women in the Hellenistic
Period.” In S.B. Pomeroy (ed.), Women’s History and Ancient History. Chapel Hill, 154–​72.
Carney, E.D. 2000a.“The Initiation of Cult for Royal Macedonian Women.” Classical Philology 95, 1: 21–​43.
Carney, E.D. 2000b. Women and Monarchy in Macedonia. Norman, OK.
Carney, E.D. 2011. “Being Royal and Female in the Early Hellenistic Period.” In A. Erskine and
L. Llewellyn-​Jones (eds.), Creating a Hellenistic World. Swansea, 195–​220.
Carney, E.D. 2020. “The First Basilissa: Phila, Daughter of Antipater and Wife of Demetrius Poliorcetes.” In
G. Tsouvala and R. Ancona (eds.), New Directions in the Study of Women in Antiquity. Oxford.
Cohen, G.M. 1973. “The Marriage of Lysimachus and Nicaea.” Historia 22, 2: 354–​6.
Cohen, G.M. 1995. The Hellenistic Settlements in Europe, the Islands, and Asia Minor. Berkeley.
Engels, D. and Erickson, K. 2016. “Apama and Stratonike –​Marriage and Legitimacy.” In A. Coşkun and
A. McAuley (eds.), Seleukid Royal Women: Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship
in the Seleukid Empire. Stuttgart, 39–​65.
Hatfield, E. and Rapson, R.L. 2009. “The Neuropsychology of Passionate Love and Sexual Desire.” In
E. Cuyler and M. Ackhart (eds.), Psychology of Relationships. Hauppauge, NY, 519–​43.
Hatzopoulos, M.B. 1996. Macedonian Institutions under the Kings, vol. 2: Epigraphic Appendix. Athens.
Head, B.V. 1911. A Manual of Greek Numismatics, new and enlarged edition. Oxford.
Kock, T. 1880. Comicorum Atticorum Fragmenta,Vol. I. Leipzig.

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Kosmin, P. 2014. “Seeing Double in Seleucid Babylonia: Rereading the Borsippa Cylinder of Antiochus
I.” In A. Moreno and R. Thomas (eds.), Patterns of the Past: Epitēdeumata in the Greek Tradition. Oxford,
173–​98.
Macurdy, G.H. 1932. Hellenistic Queens. Baltimore and London.
McAuley, A. 2016. “Princess & Tigress: Apama of Kyrene.” In A. Coşkun and A. McAuley (eds.), Seleukid
Royal Women: Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship in the Seleukid Empire.
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Mesulam, M.-​M. and Perry, J. 1972. “The Diagnosis of Love-​Sickness: Experimental Psychophysiology
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Müller, S. 2013.“The Female Element in the Political Self-​Fashioning of the Diadochoi: Ptolemy, Seleukos,
Lysimachos and Their Iranian Wives.” In V.Troncoso and E. Anson (eds.), After Alexander: The Time of the
Diadochi (323–​281 BC). Oxford, 199–​214.
Ogden, D. 2017. The Legend of Seleucus: Kingship, Narrative and Mythmaking in the Ancient World. Cambridge.
Plischke, S. 2016. “Apame und Stratonike—​Die seleukidische Königin als Bindeglied zwischen West und
Ost.” In C. Binder et al. (eds.), Diwan: Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East and the
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Ramsey, G. 2011. “The Queen and the City: Royal Female Intervention and Patronage in Hellenistic
Civic Communities.” Gender & History 23, 3: 510–​27.
Ramsey, G. 2016. “The Diplomacy of Seleukid Women: Apama and Stratonike.” In A. Coşkun and
A. McAuley (eds.), Seleukid Royal Women: Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship
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Robert, L. 1984.“Pline VI 49, Demodamas de Milet et la reine Apame.” Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique
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Rose,V. 1886. Aristotelis Qui Ferenbantur Librorum Fragmenta. Leipzig.
Sherwin-​White, S. 1991.“Aspects of Seleucid Royal Ideology: The Cylinder of Antiochus I from Borsippa.”
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Sherwin-​White, S. and A. Kuhrt. 1993. From Samarkhand to Sardis: A New Approach to the Seleukid Empire.
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Stechow, W. 1945. “‘The Love of Antiochus with Faire Stratonica’ in Art.” The Art Bulletin 27, 4: 221–​37.
Stevens, K. 2014. “The Antiochos Cylinder, Babylonian Scholarship and Seleucid Imperial Ideology.”
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17
SELEUKID MARRIAGE
ALLIANCES
Monica D’Agostini

Despite Daniel Ogden’s and Alex McAuley’s work in collecting, organizing, and rationalizing
the often contradictory information delivered by the ancient sources,1 the Seleukid genealogy
still appears to be the most complex and chaotic maze of marital relations in the Hellenistic
world. This chapter offers a fresh look at the matter by approaching the royal dynasty holistic-
ally as an ensemble of familial forces, which fluidly interacted with diverse geographical and
chronological contexts, rather than as a line of rulers hypothetically matched with concurrent
consorts. In so doing, I will use the term dynastic politics as embracing the alliances—​and
ruptures—​created through marriage and all that royal marriage implies: inheritance, legitim-
ation, regency, interdynastic blood relationships, and dynastic continuity.
By considering the circumstances of betrothals and weddings, I distinguish three phases in
the management of the network surrounding the Seleukid basileia (monarchy).

1. The first phase comprises the political marital choices following a variation of levirate
marriage (whereby one succeeds to a dead male relative’s position by marrying his widow)
specific to the first generation of Seleukid rulers2
2. With Antiochos I and Stratonike I began a second phase of blending of the main royal
bloodline with minor Anatolian dynasties (281–​223 BCE)
3. During Antiochos III’s and Laodike III’s reign the basileia entered into the third phase of
Seleukid marital politics. This was marked both by the adoption in the main royal bloodline
of sibling marriage and by extending of the second-​phase intermarriage policy to the whole
Seleukid Empire and Egypt.

By focusing on the period when marriage alliance was most popular as a diplomatic strategy
in Seleukid politics (281–​223 BCE), I will explore the short-​and long-​term impact of this
practice on the structure and fortune of the dynasty itself within the polygamist Hellenistic
marriage system.

Antiochos I and Stratonike I

As mentioned, the first four rulers used a peculiar as well as foundational dynastic arrangement.
The Macedonian princess Stratonike I, daughter of the Antigonid Demetrios I Poliorketes and

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Seleukid marriage alliances

the Antipatrid Phila, first married Seleukos I Nikator of Syria and subsequently Seleukos’ son
and successor, Antiochos I.3 This policy engendered a new interpretation of royalty. The semi-​
levirate marriage shaped an image of the basileia, which expressed itself through more than one
voice. Looking at the terminology used in the epigraphic evidence, Widmer argues that:

The three embodiments, at most, of the royal authority (kings and queen) carried
self-​sufficient voices, owing to the legitimacy that gave the royal title to them, and
coherent voices, owing to the sharing of a common royal title whether in the mascu-
line or the feminine.
(Widmer 2019a: 32–​41)4

The Seleukid power thus expressed itself through distinct voices, including the basilissa’s (queen),
who shared regality with the basileus (king), or with the basileis (kings).
With the reign of Antiochos I and Stratonike I, the Seleukids diversified their marital practice,
involving both major Hellenistic royal families and local Anatolian dynasties (Porphyry BNJ 260
F 32.5).5 The eldest daughter of Antiochos I and Stratonike I, Apama, likely born at the begin-
ning of the third century BCE, married into the family of one of the Diadochoi (Successors).
The marriage of Ptolemy II of Egypt with Lysimachos’ daughter Berenike I and then with his
own sister Arsinoë II Philadelphos prevented Antiochos I from infiltrating the main Ptolemaic
dynasty. The Seleukid king instead gave Apama to Ptolemy II’s stepbrother and the governor of
Kyrene, Magas (Iust. 26.3.1–​8).6 It is unclear whether Apama’s arrival at Magas’ court directly
inspired her husband’s rebellion against his brother Ptolemy II and his assumption of the title of
basileus, or whether the rising was already in motion before her advent.7 Nevertheless, the pro-​
Ptolemaic tradition (Paus.1.7.1–​3) links Apama’s marriage to the outbreak of the First Syrian
War: Magas supposedly encouraged his father-​in-​law Antiochos I to wage war against Ptolemy
II Philadelphos’ Egypt.8 Magas’ Syrian alliance (acquired by wedding Apama) was arguably
aimed at weakening his half-​brother’s rule. The Seleukid princess’s arrival in the Kyrenaian
court was central to an eastern Mediterranean anti-​Ptolemaic military and political agenda.9
The Seleukid rulers married their other daughter, Stratonike, into another dynasty of
Alexander’s Successors (Diadochoi, the generals of Alexander who became kings), on the opposite
side of the Mediterranean Sea. She married Demetrios II of Macedonia before he had taken the
throne, during his father’s reign. Stratonike would join her aunt/​half-​sister Phila, daughter of
her mother Stratonike I and her grandfather Seleukos I, at the Antigonid court. This marriage
was supposed to strengthen the Seleukid presence in the Macedonian family and Phila herself
was probably not opposed to it, since she had been the basilissa since c. 276 and was the mother
of the heir Demetrius II. Something, however, did not go as planned, and Stratonike went back
to Syria before Demetrios II’s ascension to the throne, and she never bore the title of basilissa, as
demonstrated by the epigraphic sources.10
These female representatives of the Seleukid first generation served as infiltrators or diplo-
matic agents. They enhanced the sphere of influence of the main dynasty, on both sides of the
Mediterranean, beyond spear-​won land, to create an international axis between Antiocheia,
Kyrene, and Pella and to isolate Ptolemaic power. Conversely, the male heir, Antiochos II
married within the Seleukid basileia.
Antiochos II’s first wife,11 Laodike I, was a representative of an influential Anatolian family.12
She was the daughter of Achaios, a local Macedonian dynast, a contemporary of Antiochos I.13
Laodike’s siblings were Alexander, the governor of Sardeis during the 240s,14 and Antiochis, the
mother of Attalos I of Pergamon.15 During the reign of Antiochos I, Achaios was a Macedonian
philos (“friend” –​a term used for those close to the king, or courtiers) of the basileus, in charge of

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Monica D’Agostini

the administration and military defense of Lydia and Phrygia. Achaios and his friends had been
benefactors to the people of the area, by funding their war against the Galatians and by paying
the ransom for the release of prisoners of war.16 Thus, rejecting his own marriage policy for
his daughters, Antiochos I chose to marry his heir, Antiochos II, not only within the Seleukid
basileia, but within his own philoi, in order to reinforce the connection between the main dyn-
astic line and the Macedonian establishment managing the empire along with the king. When
Antiochos I did not look for a foreign princess to join the Seleukid dynasty, he chose not to
reciprocate Demetrios II of Macedonia’s and Magas of Kyrene’s dynastic blend. On the contrary,
by emancipating himself from the Diadochoi’s practice of intermarriage, he distanced himself
from the other Hellenistic dynasties, confirming his political prominence in the marriage net-
work he was building.

Antiochos II and Laodike I

Antiochos II rejected his father’s marital political system. In 253/​252 BCE, at the end of the
Second Syrian War between Antiochos II and Ptolemy II Philadelphos, the Seleukid ruler
welcomed the Egyptian princess Berenike “Syra” into his dynasty and into the capital Antiocheia,
as part of the peace agreement. She arrived in the Seleukid Tetrapolis with an impressive dowry,
escorted by a mercenary guard, and there she installed herself for the following six years.17
Although polygamy was not unusual among the Hellenistic royal houses, the arrival of the
Egyptian princess in the Seleukid dynasty, which had avoided intertwining with the other
Successors’ dynasties for at least two decades, deeply impacted the basileia.
At the time of Antiochos’ second wedding, Laodike had already had two children who are
attested as the successors to their father Antiochos II.18 When Berenike arrived in Antiocheia,
Laodike established herself in Asia Minor, with her philoi, in her familial sphere of influence.
There she already had her own properties and resources, which she managed through an admin-
istrator, her philos Arridaios.To these she added some lands she had purchased from her husband
in Hellespontine Phrygia, near Kyzikos19 (with authority over the local inhabitants), and likely
some lands on the Euphrates River.20 Laodike had full political and economic authority over
this area, as she was exempt from paying any tribute to Antiochos, and could freely manage
or sell these lands. In fact, Laodike established herself in Anatolia as a local partner of her hus-
band, in an area where royal control needed to be strengthened. Beyond the powerful city of
Byzantion, allied with the Ptolemies, the Galatians also threatened the Seleukid position in
western Hellespontine Phrygia. Following their crossing into Asia Minor in 278/​277, they
mainly stayed in north-​central Anatolia, although their raids impacted the whole region. The
Galatian tribes were indeed involved in the Anatolian political landscape, either by raiding the
countryside or by fighting as mercenaries for anyone willing to hire them, thus engendering
dangerous instability across the northern Seleukid territories.21 Antiochos took advantage of
the truce with Ptolemy and, after 252, campaigned in eastern Thrace, acquired the Thracian
Chersonese (and with it control on both sides of Hellespont), and moved his army from
Kyzikos, where Laodike’s new lands were, to Lysimacheia.22 By localizing and empowering
the authority of his first wife in the Anatolian area, he counteracted the Ptolemaic pressure on
the Macedonian-​Seleukid network in Asia Minor and used her lands as a base for the offensive
against the Galatians.23
However, the presence of Berenike Syra in the Tetrapolis region embodied the prominent
Egyptian influence in the Koilesyrian and Syrian areas, and caused the outbreak of the Third
Syrian War in 246, after Antiochos II’s death.Two years later the area went back to Seleukid con-
trol, during the reign of Seleukos II, son of Antiochos II and Laodike; thus Asia Minor recovered

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its crucial role in the dynastic succession to the throne. The marriage system developed by
Antiochos II, and, after his sudden death, also employed by his widow Laodike should be
placed in this political context. This network grew throughout the Anatolian area and involved
several local dynasties. Porphyry (BNJ 260 F 32.6) says that the daughters of Antiochos II and
Laodike married Ariarathes III of Kappadokia and Mithridates II of Pontos. They were the last
representatives of two satrapal houses of Persian origins.
From 301 onward the former Persian satrapy of Kappadokia was in the Seleukid sphere
of influence. The dynast Ariamnes (or Ariaramnes) made a marriage deal with Antiochos II,
welcoming the Seleukid princess Stratonike into his dynasty by marrying her to his eldest
son Ariarathes III.24 He also associated his son with himself on the throne, as a co-​reigning
recognized successor, giving him the diadem and the royal honors around 255–​250 BCE.
Although Ariamnes had already minted bronze coins with his name,25 it was only with his
son Ariarathes III that the title of basileus appeared on the issues.26 These satraps had already
reinforced their local authority and had proved themselves precious allies to the Seleukids, since
they had pushed back the Galatian raids. It was, however, the marriage with Stratonike that offi-
cially bound Kappadokia to the Seleukid kingdom and granted the satraps the title of basileis,
identifying Stratonike not only as a delegate of familial authority, a representative and carrier of
royal legitimacy, but also bringing Seleukid identity and Hellenistic traditions into the Persian
house.27
Justin (38.5.3) alludes to the wedding of Mithridates II with a Seleukid princess. He claims
that Seleukos II, son of Antiochos II and Laodike I, gave Phrygia to the princess as a dowry.28
Pontos, unlike other local Anatolian political systems, had been a Hellenistic basileia since the
beginning of the third century. In the mid-​third century, the kingdom struggled with fre-
quent Galatian raids, during one of which King Ariobarzanes was killed, leaving as heir to the
throne Mithridates II, an infant.29 Once of age, c. 250, Mithridates II, troubled by the Galatian
threat, needed to secure his basileia: it is in such a context that the Seleukid marriage can be
placed. Welcoming the royal princess, likely named Laodike,30 Mithridates obtained support to
counteract the Galatian threats, yet tied his basileia to the Seleukids. Notably, with the reign of
Mithridates II, the dynasty became increasingly engaged in western Hellenistic politics.31
Both these marriages took place before April–​May 246. The two elder princesses, Stratonike
and Laodike, were absent from the April ceremony of the New Year held in Babylonia. Since the
dynasty renewed the engagement with the institutions of Babylonia through celebrating the
traditions of the city, it was fundamental for Antiochos’ descendants and heirs to take part in
the ritual as Seleukid representatives.32 In 246, the princesses’ mother Laodike I, their brothers
Seleukos II and Antiochos Hierax, and their sister Apama attended the New Year ceremony, but
not Stratonike of Kappadokia and Laodike of Pontos: both were likely already married.33
Information on the dynastic politics, in terms of the male heirs of Antiochos II, is more diffi-
cult to interpret. The sources on Seleukos II do not preserve his wife’s name, whereas the anec-
dotal tradition only records a concubine, named Mysta.34 The sole extant source on Seleukos II’s
marriage is Polybios. He claims the king married a niece of his mother, another representative
of the Anatolian family descended from Achaios the Elder. This royal wife was the sister of one
of his generals and philoi, Andromachos, who had fought for Seleukos II during the 230s–​220s,
together with his son Achaios the Younger.35
The information about Hierax’ wedding is also rather scattered, yet closely related to his
and his mother’s family’s territorial interests. During the conflict between Seleukos II and
Hierax, Laodike I with her brother Alexander of Sardis and likely her son-​in-​law Mithridates
II supported Antiochos’ secession. Hierax and his mother based themselves in the area of the
Hermos valley, as far as the Hellespont and into parts of Phrygia,36 areas tied to Laodike’s family

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and lineage.37 Like his father, Antiochos Hierax also attempted to control the Bosphorus in
this way, and managed to rule, if unsteadily, central and northern Asia Minor, despite the con-
flict with his brother, the changing relations with the Galatian tribes, and the rivalry with the
Attalids.38 In order to strengthen his support, Hierax wed a daughter of Ziaelas of Bithynia, the
northern Anatolian king who had hitherto escaped the Seleukid wedding network.39 However,
while describing the ups and downs of Achaios the Younger in the 210s, Polybios offers some
further details on Hierax alliances via female agents in the 220s. According to the historian,
Hierax entrusted one of his philoi, from Pisidia in Asia Minor, with the protection and tutelage
of Laodike, the daughter of Mithridates II and the Seleukid princess Laodike. After Hierax’s
death in the mid-​220s, the Pontic princess became the wife of Achaios the Elder’s last heir
and namesake, Achaios the Younger.40 Although the existence of an epigamia between Hierax
and Mithridates II can only be conjectural, the two did make some kind of deal in the 230s
involving the Pontic princess. The transfer of the young Laodike from Pontos to her uncle
Hierax’ Anatolian court increasingly ties mid-​third-​century Seleukid politics to Asia Minor and
to Laodike I’s daughters.41
Starting from the last phases of the Second Syrian War against the Ptolemies, Antiochos II
and Laodike I further developed the Anatolian familial network begun with their own marriage.
While militarily intervening in Asia Minor and Thrace, they made at least three epigamiai with
Kappadokia, Pontos, and Achaios. On the one hand they infiltrated the local dynasties through
the daughters of Laodike I, on the other hand they further involved the family of Achaios in
the main dynastic line with Seleukos II’s wedding. The children of Laodike I were the glue to
contain the troublesome Anatolian situation caused by the arrival of the Galatians in the area.
The instances of the Pergamene ruler Philetairos and the Anatolian governor Achaios the Elder
had already showed that the Seleukids were unable to neutralize the Galatians’ raids.The attacks
were threatening the stability of the basileia and the Seleukid authority in Asia Minor; hence the
royal family not only acted militarily, but also enacted a dynastic strategy to stabilize the area.
With these weddings the Seleukids initiated a diplomatic phase which further isolated them
from the other Hellenistic dynasties, and, as far as Asia Minor was concerned, partially vitiated
their royal identity by linking more closely to the local Anatolian ruling families.42

Antiochos III and Laodike III

This Anatolian dynastic policy resumed with the double wedding of the two daughters of
Mithridates II of Pontos with Antiochos III and his cousin, general and philos Achaios the
Younger, the last descendant of the Anatolian family.43 Notably both women took the dyn-
astic name of Laodike, the name of their Seleukid mother. However, shortly after Antiochos
III assumed the diadem, Achaios the Younger rebelled against the king. After having ruled the
area for Seleukos III and Antiochos III, he established his own kingdom in Asia Minor for eight
years, in the ancestral domains of his family, by virtue not only of his lineage and his militarily
successes, but also of his kinship with the main Seleukid line.44 With the third-​century blended
dynastic policy the Seleukids gained the support of the local rulers, but they also fueled their
aspirations. Although the marriages between the Seleukids and the Anatolian families were
useful to counteract the explosive impact of the Galatian migration on the Seleukid basileia, they
also offered grounds for the claims of usurpers coming from the newly created cadet branches
of the royal family.
Antiochos III’s reign marked the end of this Anatolian infiltration in the ruling dynasty.
The reign began with the wedding between Antiochos III and Laodike III, which is described
by Polybius (5.43.1–​4).45 In 223 the princess was met by the admiral and philos of the king

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Diognetos and brought to Antiochos III, near Seleukia on the Zeugma. Once Laodike arrived
in the presence of the Seleukid king, they immediately celebrated the nuptials with great
ceremony. Thereafter they went to Antiocheia, where he publicly proclaimed her basilissa, his
queen.46 Antiochos III thus renewed the marriage alliance with Mithridates II, established by
his father Seleukos II, continuing the Anatolian dynastic policy, which went back to his grand-
father Antiochos II.47 Nevertheless, the decision to officially proclaim Laodike basilissa with a
ceremony in Antiocheia differentiated her from the previous Anatolian royal wives of Seleukids.
All these brides were members of a prestigious Asia Minor family, yet this distinctive ceremony
in the capital of the empire projected Laodike III’s value beyond her father’s and familial one,
beyond her diplomatic value and her Anatolian roots.48
Polybios analyzes the universal meaning of the double ceremony, arguably preserving traces
of the promotional image of the wedding broadcast by the Seleukid court itself. Rather than
emphasizing the kinship and the previous political relation between Mithridates II and Antiochos
III, the historian stresses the Achaimenid lineage of the queen, progeny of the seven Persian
houses via the Mithridatid house.49 He represents the wedding as uniting the two royal heritages
of the empire, the Macedonian and the Iranian. This description links the wedding to the one
of the founding Seleukid couple, Seleukos I and Apama,50 retrieving a “pan-​Seleukid” discourse
on power that had been abandoned by the main dynasty during the reigns of Antiochos II and
his progeny. By choosing Antiocheia for Laodike’s enthronement Antiochos III also stressed the
privileged status of the city, and of Syria, in the renewal of the Seleukid basileia. Such a pan-​
Seleukid discourse embodied by the Seleukid ruling couple would be one of the markers of the
royal documents establishing the cult of queen Laodike III throughout the empire in the early
second century.51 The royal documents, consistent with Polybius’ description of the wedding,
repeatedly stress the uniqueness of this royal couple, setting their marriage apart from the other
Anatolian marriage alliances, and establishing them as a new founding couple of the reunited
Seleukid Empire.
Henceforth, for the next 70 years the Seleukids would not ever again welcome members
of local dynasties into the main dynastic line. On the contrary, Antiochos III, for the first time,
introduced sibling marriage into the Seleukid dynasty: he betrothed his daughter Laodike to his
own children Antiochos, and, after the latter’s death, Seleukos IV. This policy persisted until the
defeat of the main bloodline by the usurper Alexander Balas in 150 and the arrival in the dyn-
asty of the Ptolemaic princess Kleopatra Thea. The latter’s marrying three kings, and enacting a
fraternal polyandry, transformed the Seleukid dynasty, bonding it ineluctably to the Ptolemaic
family (223–​150 BCE).52

Conclusion
The geography of the Hellenistic basileiai on Mediterranean shores changes color and shape
when taking into account the movements of the royal women and their courts. Although the
interconnectedness of the Hellenistic cultural and political geography has largely been shown
by most of the scholarship mentioned in this chapter, the context and impact of the epigamiai
on military, economic, and diplomatic relations has until recently eluded the modern historical
debate. By approaching the dynastic marriage as one of the most relevant political expressions of
the Hellenistic age it has been possible to single out the main features of a phenomenon which
crossed seas, connected cultures, and fragmented identities.
Looking at the Seleukids, the employment and change of marriage practices shows a peri-
odization of the phenomenon. The dynastic politics answered to the historical predicaments
experienced by the dynasty: Antiochos I and Stratonike considered it a priority to strengthen

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their partnerships on both shores of the eastern Mediterranean via their daughters’ marriage,
hence securing their position against the growing Ptolemaic power. Later, Antiochos II and
Laodike I were urged to contain the Galatian threat in those areas crucial for the wealth and
support of the ruling class of the basileia. The stability of Asia Minor was the motor of the
Seleukid marriage policy of the mid-​third century; the epigamiai were an answer to a sudden
and unwelcomed military migration. At the end of the century, the usurpation attempts of the
Asia Minor local dynasties drove Antiochos III and Laodike III to a firm policy of theoretical
and practical separation of the royal house from the other dynasties on Seleukid land.
Following each new wedding arrangement, the dynastic politics re-​oriented the flow of eco-
nomic and military interests of the royal house and of the ruling class. Antiochos I and Stratonike
opened the possibility for a stronger Seleukid involvement in the basileiai of Macedonia and
Kyrene, through the princesses’ future offspring. In the early third century context, it was indeed
not uncommon for royal daughters to marry back into their mother’s house.The Seleukid rulers
fostered the connection between houses throughout space and time, attempting to preserve the
clannish system. Conversely, Antiochos II and Laodike II’s multiple Anatolian epigamiai against
the Galatian expansion not only diluted the dynasty, but localized it, temporarily transforming
Asia Minor into the ruling core of the empire and blurring the theoretical edges between the
royal house and the local Anatolian dynasties. Moreover, the Seleukid contingent and unsteady
ability to forestall the Galatians together with the watering down of their dynastic claim opened
the path to the demand of royal legitimacy by local rulers. Consequently, Antiochos III and
Laodike III, to counteract the third century Anatolian secession and usurpation attempts, started
to orient the Seleukid basileia toward a new idea of dynasty, where the royal couple was set
apart from the other families of the ruling establishment. However, sibling marriage isolated the
Seleukids even further from the Mediterranean marriage alliance system. With this, they broke
the familial network that had marked the first century and a half of the Hellenistic leadership
of the Mediterranean.While the Antigonids as well as the Attalids emancipated themselves from
the marriage network,53 Antiochos contributed to the fragmentation of the web of kinship
among the Hellenistic basileiai, allowing only the infant Ptolemy as their (weaker) wedding
partner among the royal houses. In so doing, he furthered the collapse of the fourth–​third-​
century Hellenistic marriage network, and eventually fatefully hindered, if not prevented, the
creation of effective alliances in the eastern Mediterranean against the dark clouds arising in the
western Mediterranean.

Notes
1 Ogden 1999; McAuley www.seleucid-​genealogy.com/​Home.html (accessed June 11, 2020).
2 I am using Ogden’s definition, who does not use the term levirate in its strictest sense to denote widow
marriages by the brothers alone of the dead men. Ogden 1999: xix–​xx.
3 On Seleukos’ marriage: Plut. Demetr. 31.5; John Malalas, Chronographia, 198. On Antiochos’ marriage: Plut.
Demetr. 38.2–​12; App. Syr. 59–​62;Val. Max. 5.7.1; Lucian Syr. D. 17–​18; Julian. Mis. 347–​58; John Malalas,
Chronographia, 204–​5 (Dindorf). See also Chapter 15 in this volume.
4 See also Ramsey 2016: 87–​104; Widmer 2016: 17–​34; 2019b: 264–​79.
5 Porphyrios’ fragments are delivered via the Armenian version of the Chronicon by Eusebios of Caesarea,
see Primo 2009a: 289–​303.
6 Justin mistakenly calls her Arsinoë.
7 On these events and Magas, see McAuley 2016: 175–​90. See also Laronde 2007: 285–​8; Marquaille
2003: 25–​42; 2008: 39–​64; Grainger 2010: 87.
8 On Pausania’s chronology see Musti 1997: 284. On Kyrene see Laronde 1987; Luni, Asolati, and
Venturini 2006–​14; Rosamilia 2010: 289–​95.

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9 This agenda is likely also behind Apama’s later attempt to bind Kyrene to the Macedonian dynasty in
258. See Just. 26.3.2–​7 and McAuley 2016: 175–​90.
10 On the marriage: BNJ 260 F 32.6. On Stratonike’s return to Syria: Just. 28.1; Agatharchides BNJ 86 F
20a, 205–​207. On Phila, the king’s mother: Vita Arati 53.60 Westermann; Suda s.v. “Aratos.” Agora XVI,
The Decrees 194 also mentions Phila as the Macedonian basilissa in 239, in the first year of Demetrius
II’s reign: see D’Agostini 2019a: 13–​21.
11 Polyainos 8.50 claims that Antiochos II married a stepsister on his father’s side, but the passage has sev-
eral errors. Primo 2009a: 125 n. 82; 2010: 63–​80. Cf. Ogden 1999: 124–​5 on Stephanos of Byzantion
s.v. Ἀντιόχεια 100, 4 Meineke.
12 On Achaios’ family see D’Agostini 2013: 87–​106; 2014: 37–​60; 2018: 59–​82; McAuley 2018: 37–​58.
On Laodike I, wife of Antiochos II, see D’Agostini 2016a: 35–​60. See also Bielman Sánchez 2003: 41–​
61; Martinez-​Sève 2003: 690–​706; Savalli-​Lestrade 2015: 187–​219.
13 BNJ 260 F 32.6–​8. See Capdetrey 2007: 149; Grainger 2010: 68, 109; McAuley 2018: 37–​58.
14 BNJ 260 F 32.8. Syll.3 426 = I. Iasos 608; OGI 229 = I. Magnesia am Sipylos 1; SEG 4.422 = I. Tralleis
25. On Alexander of Sardis see D’Agostini 2013: 87–​106.
15 Strabon 13.4.2 (624). See Chrubasik 2016: 26–​34. See also Kosmetatou 2003: 159–​74; Mitchell
2005: 521–​30; Marcellesi 2012: 65–​114. On Antiochis see also Billows 1995: 96; Ogden 1999: 132.
16 IK. Laodikeia am Lykos 1. On the Galatians and the Anatolian politics in the third century see Chrubasik
2016: 69–​72. See also Strobel 1996; Darbyshire, Mitchell, and Vardar 2000: 75–​97; Savalli-​Lestrade
2001: 39–​78; Mitchell 2003: 280–​93; 2005: 521–​530; Capdetrey 2010: 17–​36; Coşkun 2011: 87–​97;
Paganoni 2016: 83–​98.
17 Jerome, based on Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 43.10–​14. See D’Agostini 2016a: 35–​60.
18 AD II 245A–​ES 66 Ro. See Ramsey 2019: 243–​63. See also Ed. prim. Lehmann 1892: 330–​2. Sherwin-​
White and Kuhrt 1993: 128–​9; Kuhrt 1996: 41–​54; Del Monte 1997: 43–​8;Virgilio 2003: 154–​5; van
der Spek 2019.
19 I. Didyma 492. See D’Agostini 2019a: 26–​33 and Ramsey 2019: 243–​263.
20 AD II 245A–​ES 66 Ro.
21 Memnon BNJ 434 F 11, 2–​ 11, 7; Apollonios of Aphrodisias BNJ 740 F 14. See Chrubasik
2016: 66–​72.
22 SC: 166; Polyainos 4.16; Memnon BNJ 434 F15. See Will 1979: 246–​8; Chrubasik 2016: 32.
23 On the Ptolemaic pressure on Asia Minor see Chrubasik 2016: 66–​9. See also Heinen 1984: 412–​45;
Meadows 2012: 113–​33.
24 Diod. Sic. 31.19.6. On Hellenistic Kappadokia see Michels 2009. See also Sullivan 1990: 51–​8, 174–​85.
25 Simonetta 2007: no. 6.
26 ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ ΑΡΙΑΡΑΘΟΥ. Simonetta 2007: no. 5.
27 On cultural transfers, the role of Hellenistic royal women and “Philhellenistic” practices see also
Michels 2009: 31–​4; McAuley 2017: 189–​212.
28 Del Monte 1997: 228–​30; Erciyas 2006: 13–​15.
29 Memnon BNJ 434 F 9.4 and 16.1–​3.
30 The name is inferred from that of the mother and the daughters. See also Mehl “Laodike.” [II.4] Brill’s
New Pauly.
31 See D’Agostini 2016b: 83–​95. On Pontos see McGing 1986: 248–​59; Petrović 2009: 378–​83; Primo
2006: 307–​31 (Plutarch. Demetr. 4; Appian. Mith. 9 and 112). See also Santi Amantini 1995: 326;
Goukowsky 2001: 133.
32 Capdetrey 2007: 35–​38. See also van der Spek 1987: 57–​74; Lendering 2019.
33 AD II 245A –​ES 66 Ro. ll. 12–​13. In the Babylonian Astronomical Diaries (AD) of 246, month
of Nisannu SE 66 (April 4–​May 3), soon before Antiochos II’s death, it is said that the children
of Antiochos II and Laodike—​Seleukos, Antiochos and Apama (Apammu)—​were in the temple of
Babylonia, the Esagila, to attend a ceremony, likely the Akitu (New Year) of 246. Ramsey 2019: 243–​63.
See also Coloru 2010: 273–​80.
34 Phylarchos BNJ 81 F 30; Polyainos 8.61.
35 Polyb. 4.51.3–​6; 8.22.11. Polyainos 4.17. See D’Agostini 2018: 59–​82. On Polybios on the Seleukids
see Primo 2009a: 126–​59.
36 Boehringer 1993: 37–​47; Houghton and Lorber 2002: 291–​6.
37 Their properties are mentioned in I. Didyma 492 and I. Labraunda 8, which might be attributed either
to Laodike I or to Laodike the wife of Seleukos II, both members of the family of Achaios the Elder.
See Crampa 1969: 52–​67;Virgilio 1993: 29–​52; 2003: 153.

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38 Trogus Prol. 27; Just. 27.2.6-​3.8; Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 32.8–​9. On the Brothers’ War see Grainger
2010: 171–​94; D’Agostini 2013: 87–​106; Chrubasik 2016: 72–​81; Kosmin 2019: 75–​90. Cf. Coşkun
2018: 197–​252.
39 Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 32.8. On Bithynia see Michels 2009. See also Virgilio 2003: 134–​5; Paganoni
2016: 83–​98.
40 Polyb. 5.74.4–​6; 8.21.7–​23.9. On Laodike wife of Achaios the Younger see D’Agostini 2014: 37–​60.
41 See also Just. 27.3.7–​8 (Cf.Trog. Prol. 27).At the end of the war Hierax sought refuge at the Kappadokian
court, i.e. at his sister Stratonike’s side, where he was at first kindly received, but then allegedly betrayed.
See Primo 2009b: 541–​6.
42 Cf. Chrubasik 2016: 40–​3 on the Seleukid satraps Diodotus of Bactria and Andragoras of Parthia. On
the Seleukid basileia see Capdetrey 2007: 122–​40, 193–​222; 2010: 17–​36; Kosmin 2014: 93–​126.
43 See D’Agostini 2018: 59–​82. See also Ager 2012: 421–​9; Chrubasik 2016: 81–​90.
44 Polyb. 8.20.9-​12. See also Houghton and Lorber 2002: 347–​50.
45 On Laodike III see Widmer 2008: 63–​92; Ramsey 2011: 510–​27; Widmer 2019a: 32–​41. See also
Bielman Sánchez 2003: 41–​61; Virgilio 2003: 95–​100, 234–​6, 239–​41; Ma 2004: 375–​82; Iossif and
Lorber 2007: 63–​88.
46 Polyb. 5.43.1–​4. On Laodike III’s wedding and her dowry see D’Agostini 2016b: 83–​95. On the
Hellenistic nuptial ceremony see Ager 2017: 165–​88.
47 Just. 38.5.3 and Porphyrios BNJ 260 F 32.6.
48 Antiochos III after his sudden ascension to kingship thought it crucial to consolidate his relations
with the civic elite that had undermined his father’s rule by rebelling twice: BNJ 160 coll. II–​IV.
Agatharchides BNJ 86 F 20a 205–​7.
49 Mithridates is introduced as the heir of the Seven Persians who assisted Darius I in re-​founding the
Persian kingdom (Hdt. 3.61–​88): D’Agostini 2016b: 83–​95. See also McGing 1986: 248–​59; Billows
1995: 82–​4; 104–​8; Bosworth and Wheatley 1998: 155–​64; Primo 2009a: 410–​25.
50 Apama married Seleukos I in 324. Her identity as an Iranian noble woman was crucial to the founda-
tion of the Seleukid basileia as continuation and renewal of the Achaimenid rule; see Ramsey 2016: 87–​
104 and her Chapter 16 in this volume.
51 See Widmer 2008: 63–​92; 2019a: 32–​41.
52 On the Ptolemaic infiltration of the Seleukid dynasty see Ager 2019: 183–​201; D’Agostini 2019b: 42–​68.
53 Not only did the Attalids avoid engaging with the Seleukids during the whole third century, but in 194
Eumenes II remarkably rejected Antiochos III’s daughter as wife. App. Syr. 5.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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(eds.), Spear-​won Land: Sardis from the King’s Peace to the Peace of Apamea. Madison, 75–​90.
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Martinez-​Sève, L. 2003. “Laodice, femme d’Antiochos II: du roman à la reconstruction historique.” Revue
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McAuley, A. 2016. “Princess & Tigress: Apama of Kyrene.” In A. Coşkun and A. McAuley (eds.), Seleukid
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Meadows, A. 2012. “Deditio in Fidem: The Ptolemaic Conquest of Asia Minor.” In C. Smith and
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18
ROYAL MOTHERS AND
DYNASTIC POWER IN
ATTALID PERGAMON
Dolores Mirón

The modest origins of Pergamon and the Attalids were an oddity among the great
Hellenistic kingdoms and their ruling dynasties. Whereas Antigonids, Seleukids and
Ptolemies originated from the Macedonian aristocracy, the first Attalid ruler, Philetairos,
was a man from a non-​noble family who began his career under the service of the Diadoch
Lysimachos, and later seized independent power, though under the Seleukid sphere of
influence, in the modest site of Pergamon and the surrounding territory. The third ruler,
Attalos I, took the title basileus and, thus, converted the Pergamene state into a kingdom,
but this did not imply a significant territorial expansion (Strab. 13.4.1–​2). It was his son,
Eumenes II, who ultimately made it one of the major powers in the eastern Mediterranean,
thanks mainly to his fruitful alliance with Rome in the wars against Macedonia and the
Seleukid Empire. The Pergamene state and the Attalid dynasty lasted for barely a century
and a half, and comprised six rulers.1
Although they crafted a dynastic power from the beginning, the Attalids showed an apparent
disregard for biological reproduction. Most of them had no known offspring; in fact, Philetairos
was said to be a eunuch, and the last king, Attalos III, died childless and bequeathed the kingdom
to Rome. They also tended to delay marriage. Whether it was the result of an accidental situ-
ation or of a conscious policy, the prevailing pattern of succession was from uncle to nephew;
only once did succession pass directly from father to son. Thus, it might seem that female
Attalids had little room to play a relevant public role within the logic of the transmission
of power, as happened in other dynasties. One would expect that politically active, powerful
women, as in other kingdoms, would not be found.
Nonetheless, unusually, the names of all the Attalid rulers’ mothers are known. Most of them
had a geographical and social background far different from that of the Macedonian noble
women who usually served as influential Hellenistic royal women. Despite this, Attalid women
played an essential role in the creation of the dynastic image and, mainly from the late third
century BCE onward, enjoyed public prestige and influence.2
Attalid mothers were publicly visible from the very beginning of the dynasty. Philetairos
(283–​263 BCE) was not atypical simply because he was presumably a eunuch.3 He came from
Tieion, a modest city on the Black Sea between the regions of Bithynia and Paphlagonia, and
was the son of Attalos (possibly a Macedonian),4 and Boa, a Paphlagonian woman, said to be
a flute-​player and a hetaira by Karystios of Pergamon.5 She was publicly honored by her sons

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Philetairos and Eumenes, who dedicated to her a temple and an altar of Demeter at Pergamon,
thus associating her with a goddess linked to citizen wives and mothers (the mirror image of
courtesans).6 Probably the hetairism of Boa was a spurious story created by an anti-​Attalid
faction,7 but the modest and partially non-​Greek origins of Philetairos seem to be certain,
although the Attalids did try to claim aristocratic, even divine origins.8 Motivated, therefore,
by affection for Boa apart from and independent of her social condition, her sons vindicated
their mother through this magnificent tribute monument, Hellenizing her and increasing her
prestige and, thus, that of the entire family. This dedication also demonstrates that, from an early
stage, the Attalids were interested in constructing a dynastic image where the mother played a
significant role.
Philetairos was succeeded by his nephew, Eumenes I (263–​241 BCE), son of his brother
Eumenes. Of his mother we only know her name, Satyra, and that she was the daughter of
Poseidonios, a man unknown elsewhere. It is also remarkable that this information comes from a
statue base from Delos dedicated to Eumenes I, where he is identified through both patronymic
and matronymic, and that this statue was associated to another statue of King Attalos I, Eumenes’
successor, named as son of Attalos and Antiochis.9 Moreover, these dedications were part of an
ensemble that included statues of Mysian eponymous heroes, whose fathers and mothers, also
eponymous heroes and heroines of the region, were named.10 Erected at the heart of the Greek
world, this dynastic monument thus linked the royal genealogy to mythical local genealogies,
including both the male and the female line, as a way to give prestige both to the Pergamene
state and its ruling family.11
Antiochis, the mother of Attalos I (241–​197 BCE), supplied the Attalids with royal blood, by
relating them to the Seleukids, as she was the daughter of Achaios and granddaughter of King
Seleukos I and Apama, and thus the sister of Laodike I, King Antiochos II’s wife.12 Since Attalos
was born in 269 BCE (Liv. 33.21.1; Polyb. 18.41.8), the wedding of his parents was held no later
than 271/​270 BCE, at a time when Pergamon was a client state of the Seleukid Empire and the
Seleukid kings were implementing a marriage policy that linked them to dynasties and notable
people under their sphere of influence, as a way to create loyal family ties.13
Antiochis was honored by her husband with a statue in Mamurt-​Kaleh, in the temple of
the Mother of the Gods, built by Philetairos, the same place where some years later a priestess
of the cult dedicated a statue of Attalos I, already called king and Soter, titles he acquired after
his victory over the Gauls in the Kaikos.14 Although Antiochis had the potential to increase the
genealogical prestige of the dynasty, no other honors for her are known. Apart from the Delian
monument, her son did not seem very interested in using her figure in the construction of his
self-​representation. Granted that no brothers of Attalos are known, Antiochis may have died at
an early age, and consequently her influence within the family and over her son could have
been limited. But, above all, perhaps she recalled too much the family tie with the Seleukids,
against whom Attalos ultimately struggled, an effort not easily reconciled with the image of
family harmony vaunted by the Attalids.
Conversely, Attalos’ marriage in his late forties entailed a noticeable transformation in the
public profile of Attalid women. Incorporating Apollonis of Kyzikos,15 the mother of the kings
Eumenes II (197–​159 BCE) and Attalos II (159–​138 BCE), into the Attalid family not only
involved a more extensive use of the mother in royal ideology, but also the development of a
more active public role for royal women.
Apollonis had no royal blood and was, in general, an unusual bride within the trends of
Hellenistic royal marriages, particularly considering the lineage of Attalos’ mother and the fact
that he had only recently been proclaimed king (basileus). Apollonis was as a citizen of Kyzikos,
a plebeian (demotes: Polyb. 22.20.1–​2); because of her status modern historians have tended to

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disregard the possible political implications of this marriage.16 However, at the time it happened
(c. 223 BCE), Attalos I was trying to turn the Pergamene state into a kingdom able to com-
pete with Macedonia and the Seleukid Empire. In addition to his proclamation as a king, he
was involved in the politics of territorial expansion and in trying to win the support of the
cities in Asia Minor. In this sense, the prosperous city of Kyzikos, in the region of Mysia in the
Propontis, was not only relevant for gaining access to the Black Sea, but also for its strategic
position regarding the Attalid struggles against Macedonia, Bithynia, Pontos, the Gauls, and
the Seleukids.17 In fact, Philetairos had already sought its friendship.18 Therefore, the marriage
of Attalos I and a woman from an elite family of Kyzikos19 would have helped to strengthen
friendship bonds between the two powers, and likely, from the very beginning, to establish a
war alliance.20 In any case, it was a useful, lasting friendship that involved collaboration in war
and intensive personal relationships between the Attalids and the leading families of Kyzikos, an
essential part of Hellenistic diplomacy.21
Furthermore, the marriage between a king and a citizen, even a posteriori, could have had
positive impact on the relationship of Pergamon with the Greek cities in terms of propaganda
and diplomacy. It could also have given more credibility to the self-​representation of the Attalids
as epitomizing the traditional family values of the Greek polis, even though they were kings
and acted as such, and even though Apollonis was proclaimed basilissa (a title that, in the con-
text of the usage of this particular dynasty, signifies the king’s wife and will here be translated
as “queen.”) This title was probably conferred upon her at her wedding or in the early years of
her marriage, and it indicates that, although Attalos presented himself as a citizen ruler, he had as
referent the great Hellenistic monarchies—​the Ptolemies and especially the Seleukids—​where
the figure of the basileus was accompanied by the figure of the basilissa.22 The title also signaled
a formal public position for Apollonis, whatever her specific role, and taking into account that
each dynasty developed its own ways of being basilissa.23 In any case, when the title appeared in
Pergamon, the first holder could profit from the previous experience of other monarchies when
creating a particular “queenship,” one which, in this case, was constructed around motherhood.
As a mother, Apollonis’ fertility was exemplary. In seven years, she gave birth to four male
children: Eumenes, Attalos, Philetairos, and Athenaios,24 breaking with the prior (even trad-
itional) low fertility of the Attalids. Consequently, Apollonis was a successful queen who fulfilled
her fundamental mission of ensuring the easy transmission of royal power by providing the dyn-
asty with heirs. But she would also become a model of motherhood in the context of Greek
ideology, where having male offspring was the vital goal of every free woman. This fruitful
motherhood would have been significant both in terms of her prestige within the royal family
and in the construction of her public image. At the same time, it elevated the whole dynasty and
its self-​representation as a paradigm of family virtues.
Ancient sources usually praise her virtues as a wife and mother. Polybios (22.20.1–​ 3)
considered her worthy of memory, since, being a plebeian, she became a queen, “and preserved
this dignity until the end not by using the arts of seduction of a hetaira,” but “by the virtue
and integrity of her conduct.” He also remarks the “perfect affect and love” in her relation-
ship with her four children until the last day of her life. Plutarch (Mor. 480C) states that she
“always congratulated herself and gave thanks to the gods, not because of wealth or empire,”
but because of the harmony and trust among her four sons. This positive image of Apollonis in
Roman sources reflected the good relationship between Rome and the Attalids, and generally
matched expectations of the Roman matron, but it also reflected Attalid propaganda. In the
sanctuary of Athena at Pergamon, Apollonis’ son Attalos celebrated her affection (philostorgia)
toward him (IPergamon 169). In a decree from Hierapolis, she is praised for her “reverence
toward her parents,” her “distinguished” life with her husband, and, above all, her harmonious

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relationship with her children (OGI 308). After her death, her sons built her a temple in her
native city, Kyzikos, and decorated it with mythological scenes related to love between mother
and son, and brotherly love.25
She also appeared publicly and formally as an essential part of the royal family and was
granted public honors in and outside of Pergamon, alone or with other family members.26 Her
name was present in some public documents through her sons’ filiation.27 A city in Mysia was
named after her (Strab. 13.4.4), as well as an Attic demos (Suda s.v.“Apollonieis”). After her death,
she was declared a goddess and received cult in and outside of Pergamon.28
She is present symbolically in the Great Altar of Pergamon, a monument that summarizes
Attalid royal ideology, exalting both the ruling dynasty and the city of Pergamon.29 In the outer
façade, the famous frieze of the Gigantomachy has significantly more female than male figures,
and repeatedly depicts children fighting cooperatively alongside their mothers.30 Thus, family
unity, especially of mother and children, is exalted. Although this allusion to family cooper-
ation and motherhood could comprehend the entire dynasty, it is undeniable that it especially
referred to the quintessential Attalid mother: Apollonis. This is confirmed in the inner frieze
that represents the myth of Telephos, ancestor of the Pergamenes, where Apollonis is symbolic-
ally identified with the hero’s mother, Auge.31 In this version of the myth Auge plays one of the
main roles, essential to the seizure of the Mysian throne by Telephos. One of the principal panels
of the frieze depicts Auge’s apotheosis, clearly referring to Apollonis’ deification. Likewise, in
her temple at Kyzikos the apotheosis of Semele and Alcmene through their sons evokes the one
of Auge/​Apollonis. Also, the scene of the wedding night, where Telephos is recognized as her
son by Auge, is depicted in both monuments.
To sum up, Apollonis was a key figure in the Attalid image. In this respect, modern historians
have usually noted how her sons used the mother figure to highlight their own family virtues.32
True, but Apollonis was not a mere passive symbol. Evidence exists of her authority within the
family, her public agency, and her active participation in the construction of the dynastic self-​
representation as well as of her own image.
There are two noteworthy aspects of Apollonis’ public agency: her role in the relationship of
the Attalids with the Greek cities and her activity as public benefactress. Concerning the former,
she may have acted in dealings between the Attalids and Kyzikos, beyond merely the marriage
alliance itself: her visit to Kyzikos with Attalos and another of her sons c. 183/​182 BCE offers
proof.33 During the visit, she toured all the monuments and temples of the city, always with the
help of her sons, who placed her between them and took both her hands.This display of respect
and affection toward their mother was applauded by the Kyzikenes, who recalled the story of
the brothers Kleobis and Biton helping their mother to reach the temple (see Hdt. 1.31), and
this mythological story was finally depicted in the temple of Apollonis as a direct evocation
of this visit. The construction of such a place of memory in her native city demonstrates that
Apollonis was a compelling figure—​a distinguished citizen—​in Kyzikos, in addition to sym-
bolizing loyalty and unity within the royal family as well as between Kyzikos and Pergamon.
It is also probable that she visited Teos.This city had maintained unstable, conflicted relations
with the Attalids in the past, but finally became a major center of Pergamene ruler cult.34 After
her death, the city decreed divine honors for her, among them the erection of an altar of Thea
Apollonis Apobateria. The epiklesis Apobateria (“who disembarks”) was associated with deities
protective of seafaring, but was also related to royal or imperial visits in the context of ruler
cult.35
Certainly, her sons used Apollonis as a powerful token that linked them to the Greek cities,
particularly the Ionian ones like Kyzikos and Teos.36 The iconographic program of the Kyzikene
temple went further by including myths from around the Greek world and even Rome, as a

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material symbol of the harmony within the family and in international relations, under a cosmic
order embodied by the Attalid mother.37 In so doing, Apollonis’ sons resumed the practice, espe-
cially developed in the context of territorial expansion or regional influence, of linking mythic
genealogies with the royal lineage. With Apollonis, this practice attained the highest degree of
elaboration and centrality of the mother.
Apollonis’ participation in royal visits not only reinforced the image of monarchy as the
power of a family, but also materialized the union of king and poleis through a living symbol.
Furthermore, as royal visits were themselves diplomatic acts, it can be concluded that Apollonis
collaborated actively in the internal and external politics of the Attalids, regardless of her specific
activities in their course. Undoubtedly she was not there simply to be exhibited as a token. We
have no evidence of a more direct diplomatic role on her part, like corresponding with cities or
receiving embassies, as did Laodike III, Antiochos III’s wife, with whom Apollonis is sometimes
compared.38 But it is possible that Apollonis was recognized at an international level as an indi-
vidual and significant member of the royal family, and thus a potential interlocutor.39
Apollonis could also have been internationally known as benefactress,40 but her euergesia
(“benefaction”) is only documented for Pergamon. Apart from a votive offering in the royal
palace (IPergamon 170), her most remarkable action was her renovation of the above-​mentioned
sanctuary of Demeter (see p. 211). She enlarged it, encircled it with stoas, and equipped it with
other facilities, transforming it into one of the principal architectural structures of the city.41
Significantly, she dedicated it as a thank-​offering to Demeter and Kore Thesmophoroi. Her
dedication connected the building to the Thesmophoria, a festival known around the Greek
world in which only female citizens participated. It celebrated the fertility of the earth and
motherhood, principles closely linked in Greek ideology, and essential for the prosperity and
continuance of the city. Thus, Apollonis associated herself, symbolically and materially, with the
Pergamene mothers, linking up the continuity of royal power with the continuity of the city.
Her thanksgiving to the goddesses could be a celebration of her own success as a mother. In this
sense, it has been suggested that her intervention in the sanctuary can be dated back to the late
third century BCE, and, consequently, that it antedated the great building programs of her sons,
maybe when they were still little children.42 Therefore, Apollonis may have been participating,
from an early date, in the construction of the dynastic self-​representation and the creation of a
powerful image of herself as a royal mother.
All these benefactions were religious. Her visits also involved an agency of this kind. This is
implicit in the narration of her visit to Kyzikos. Teos was a notable religious center, even before
the development of Attalid royal cult there, since it held an important festival of Dionysos
and was the headquarters of the influential Association of Dionysiac Artists of Ionia and the
Hellespont.43 In fact, her piety toward the gods (eusebeia) was one of the essential virtues that
embellished her public image and, consequently, she received the epithet Eusebes, perhaps after
her death.44 Thus, she completely satisfied the Greek ideal of a female citizen, which included
domestic virtues as a wife and mother as well as religious devotion, mirroring the traditional
model. However, religion was also traditionally the only public sphere where female Greek
citizens could formally participate and even hold power through priesthoods. Even in the
Hellenistic period, when feminine presence and action in the formal public realm beyond reli-
gion increased, many female citizens and royal women—​including those who exercised political
power—​often employed religion in their public agency, resorting to an area where their public
participation was more acceptable to a strongly patriarchal society.45
The public visibility of Apollonis would certainly not have been possible had she not had
important clout within the family. As stated above (p. 212), the mothering of four male children
could have endowed her with prestige, respect, and authority in the domestic realm. She showed

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public pride in it, as seen in the sanctuary of Demeter.There were fertile royal mothers in other
dynasties, like Laodike III, but even when their status as mothers was present in their public
image, motherhood did not play the central role observable for Apollonis, nor was affection
between mother and children so highly emphasized.46 Apollonis could actually have had strong
personal influence on her children, a possibility favored by some family circumstances, as well
as by her own personality. First, she was directly involved in her sons’ education, as implied
by an Athenian decree, where both Attalos and Apollonis were praised for their excellence as
educators (OGI 248). Since this sort of praise was not usually addressed to a woman (citizen or
royal), this public acknowledgment could certainly reflect an actual situation. Second, she had
the opportunity of continuing and even reinforcing her maternal authority during her lifetime.
When Attalos I died, although his children were already adults, they were still young. Conversely,
Apollonis had a long life and, thus, a long widowhood.47 During her almost 30 years as a widow,
she was also the only female figure—​at least the only relevant one—​in the family, so that the
bonds of mother–​child affection and her maternal/​domestic authority remained unchallenged
for decades. Therefore, her family authority would have been translated into public presence
and influence.
When Eumenes II married, the new basilissa joined the family image by directly relating to
her mother-​in-​law. The Hierapolitan decree states that Apollonis “always behaved with good-
will in all circumstances toward Queen Stratonike, believing that the woman who shared her
son also shared her own affection.” Stratonike was included in the honors to the royal family,48
particularly in association with Apollonis and her cult.49 In this way, the figure of the new queen
was shaped by the model of the queen mother, in solidarity and continuance with her.
Nevertheless, Stratonike was in essence a very different kind of woman from Apollonis, a
much more controversial one. Firstly, she was the daughter of a king,Ariarathes IV of Kappadokia,
and her royal blood descended from the Seleukids. The ancient sources tell that, on the eve of
Antiochos III’s war with Rome, the Syrian king offered Eumenes one of his daughters’ hand, as
he did with other kings, including Ariarathes himself, who married Antiochis. The Pergamene
king declined, since he thought this marriage implied enmity with Rome and submission to
Antiochos (App. Syr. 1.5). But, in the context of the Treaty of Apamea (188 BCE), Eumenes was
betrothed to Ariarathes’ daughter, and, as a result, the Kappadokian king was partially forgiven
by the Romans (Liv. 38.39.6) and a lasting alliance was established between Pergamon and
Kappadokia (Polyb. 24.8–​9; 25.2).
This fiancée was most probably Stratonike. Notwithstanding this early betrothal, she does
not appear in official documents where members of the Attalid family, particularly Apollonis,
are mentioned, prior to 174 BCE, but she was certainly already married by 172 BCE (see
p. 215-216). This means that, most probably, Stratonike’s mother was Antiochis, Antiochos III’s
daughter, and that she was therefore likely betrothed while still a little child, but that the wedding
happened more than 15 years after the engagement, and that the groom was around 50 years
old when he married. Although other explanations have been suggested, there is nothing extra-
ordinary about such a situation.50 Betrothals of little girls and wide age gaps between spouses
were not unusual in antiquity. As for the groom, he followed his father’s example in marrying
at a mature age, demonstrating no rush to have offspring, even though his brother Attalos was
still a bachelor, and no spouses of his other two brothers are certain.51 In any event, granted that
Stratonike lived with her mother-​in-​law for some years, it is not improbable that she joined the
Pergamene court sometime before her marriage.
Stratonike had a more eventful marital life than her mother-​in-​law. When, in 172 BCE,
Eumenes II was attacked at Delphi and was believed dead, his brother Attalos assumed royal
power and seemingly married—​or intended to—​his “widow.” When Eumenes reappeared,

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Attalos loyally returned both power and Stratonike to his brother, and ultimately the fraternal
relationship did not seem damaged (Diod. 19.34.2; Liv. 42.16; Plut. Mor. 184A–​B; 489E–​F).
After Eumenes’ actual death in 159 BCE, Attalos assumed the throne on the expectation of
being succeeded by Attalos III, who was still a child, and married the widowed basilissa, by
whom no offspring of his is known.52 The marriage of the dead king’s brother with the widow
and mother of the heir confirmed the legitimacy of Attalos’ accession to the throne, and also
contributed to preserving both the harmonious family image and the alliance with Kappadokia.
Such a marital practice was not exceptional in Greek and Macedonian monarchies.
Since all epigraphic evidence and almost all of the literary evidence53 state that Attalos III
(138–​133 BCE) was the son of Eumenes and Stratonike, modern scholars have generally agreed.
Some authors, however, consider him a son of Attalos54 or even son of Eumenes and a woman
other than Stratonike.55 The important fact is that Attalos III was recognized officially, without
doubt, as Eumenes’ son, and that he publicly displayed his affection for his mother, Stratonike.
Attalos praised her religious piety, as well as her love toward him and his father (OGI 331; RC
67). He himself assumed the epithet Philometor (“who loves his mother”) (OGI 332). His great
love for Stratonike has also been remarked by authors like Justin (Epit. 36.4), who affirms that
the suspicion that his mother was murdered led Attalos to a terrible outburst of rage and that he
died of sunstroke while he was busy attending in person the building of a monument for her.
Although caution is advisable when dealing with Justin’s assertions, this story seems to reflect
the lasting fame of Attalos as a devoted son, even in the works of authors fiercely hostile to him.
In any event, Stratonike’s persona seems to have been modeled on that of Apollonis. Her
mother-​in-​law would have been her main reference concerning image as well as agency. Like
Apollonis, she also showed herself to be pious toward the gods and introduced in Pergamon the
cult of Zeus Sabazios, which was located in the temple of Athena.56 Likewise, references to her
eunoia (“goodwill”) toward the Pergamenes and the Athenians could indicate some action as
benefactress both at the local and the international level.57
Motherhood was the very essence of Attalid royal women’s image and agency. It also affected
their public visibility, since, of Attalid women, only the names of kings’ mothers are known.58
They were subsumed as mothers into the lineage they entered through marriage, and linked up
with other mythical and real mothers. Here, myths and religion played a crucial role. We have
already seen how statues of Satyra and Antiochis were placed in Delos among mythological
mothers, but the link reached its most perfect expression with Apollonis and her identification
with Greek mythic mothers, especially Auge, ancestor of the Pergamenes. As for Stratonike, she
was not associated with figures of early times, but with the new goddess Apollonis, who was
once a mortal.
The Attalids transformed or created religious spaces as places of dynastic memory where both
men and women of the family were included, such as the sanctuary of the Mother of de Gods
at Mamurt-​Kaleh, the temple of Apollonis at Kyzikos, or the Great Altar at Pergamon. But there
was a place where royal mothers’ presence and agency were most powerfully expressed: the sanc-
tuary of Demeter at Pergamon. As already noted, Philetairos and his brother Eumenes dedicated
to their mother the temple and the altar of the goddess, which became places of memory of Boa.
What is more, it has been suggested that Boa was herself the sponsor of these constructions.59
Later, Apollonis made this space more monumental and comfortable for visitors, thus favoring
the cults of the citizen mothers, dialoguing architecturally with the temple and the altar, and
transforming the sanctuary into a place of memory of herself and her successful motherhood,
as she memorialized her dedication at the entrance propylon. Finally, Stratonike’s memory was
also recorded there, as it was the place appointed by the demos of Pergamon to dedicate a statue

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of her because of her arete (“excellence”) and eunoia (“goodwill”). The absence of any mention
of their husbands, and thus, to Attalid dynastic fathers, is noteworthy, in all three cases. Boa is
mentioned as a mother, Apollonis identifies herself as basilissa only, and Stratonike is named as
basilissa and daughter of King Ariarathes.60 Whereas in other dynastic places of memory their
presence was just one among the other members of the family, here they were the sole actors.
These three mothers were also closely related with religious piety, following the model
of other women—​royals or citizens—​who focused their public agency on religion, especially
with practices such as the foundation of cults and the construction of cultic structures.61 Boa
could have appeared as the founder or refounder of the sanctuary of Demeter, and Apollonis
as a second refounder, to some extent. Stratonike introduced into Pergamon the cult of Zeus
Sabazios, established in the temple of Athena, linking herself with Auge, who was said to
have introduced the cult of Athena, patron goddess of the city (IPergamon 156), an action also
represented in the Telephos’ frieze of the Great Altar. Significantly, the sanctuary of Athena was
one of the most conspicuous places of dynastic remembrance, and included individual honors
to Apollonis and Stratonike, along with other members of the royal family.62 It was surely not
accidental that the line which united the temple of Athena with the temple of Demeter passed
through the Great Altar, thus associating the war victories of Attalid kings with the motherly
successes of Attalid women.63
In the context of this dynastic scenery, undoubtedly dominated by the powerful figure of
Apollonis, who summed up all feminine aspects of Attalid power, the public image and agency
of Attalid women always unfolded within the standards of traditional gender roles. Nevertheless,
since royal families themselves were political institutions, their actions can be understood as pol-
itical acts, even ones that did not contradict the gender norms. In this context, Attalid women
were comparable to other Hellenistic women who gained increasing presence and action in
the public realm, thus transforming the ways of being in public, but without subverting the
gender order.

Notes
1 On the Attalids and the Pergamene state, see Allen 1983; Hansen 1971; Kosmetatou 2003; Evans 2012;
Thonemann 2013.
2 On the Attalids’ image, see, among others,Virgilio 1993; Gruen 2000; Kosmetatou 2003; Thonemann
2013: 30–​4.
3 See Ogden 2015: 172–​3 for discussion and references on the issue of whether he was actually a eunuch,
or whether such descriptions were merely propagandist slurs.
4 Strab.12.3.8; 13.4.1; Mela, 1.93; Paus. 1.8.1; OGI 748–​749. See Beloch 1967: 207–​8; Hansen 1971: 17;
Allen 1983: 182–​4; Kosmetatou 2003: 159–​61.
5 Ath. 13.577b = FHG IV p. 358 F12.
6 Anatolische Mitteilungen 35, 1910: nos. 22–​3.
7 Hansen 1971: 15; Virgilio 1993: 13–​15; Piok Zanon 2009: 10, n. 35. A fictive genealogy from the
second century CE is known (OGI 264).
8 Gruen 2000; Kosmetatou 2003: 159–​61, 166–​8.
9 IG XI, 4 1107-​1108.The father of Attalos I was probably a first cousin of Eumenes I (Allen 1983: 181–​9).
10 IG XI, 4 1206–​8.
11 On the sculptural ensemble and its meanings, see Robert 1973: 478–​85; Schalles 1985: 127–​35;
Bringmann and von Steuben 1995: 218–​19; Scheer 2003: 221–​2.
12 Strab. 13.4,2; Beloch 1967: 209–​11; Grainger 1997: 149. This Achaios has generally been identified
as a son of Seleukos I and Apama (Beloch 1967: 204–​6; Grainger 1997: 47), but recently it has been
suggested that he was a Macedonian general, influential in the court of Seleukos I, who had probably
married a daughter of the king and Apama (McAuley 2018).

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13 McAuley 2018: 46–​7.

14 Conze and Schazmann 1911 (inscription in Antiochis’ statue base: 38–​9; dedication in the architrave of
the temple: 10, 20; Attalos I’s statue: 6–​7). On the sanctuary and the Attalids, see also Schalles 1985: 26–​
31; Bringmann and von Steuben 1995: 293–​5.
15 On Apollonis and her image, see van Looy 1976; Virgilio 1993: 44–​52; Bielman Sánchez 2003;
Mirón 2015.
16 This marriage has been labeled as a “love-​match” or “bourgeois marriage” (e.g. van Looy 1976: 153;
Ogden 1999: 201; Thonemann 2013: 38), but this view has been convincingly refuted by Sève
2014: 154–​7.
17 See Hansen 1971: 39; Allen 1983: 58; Sève 2014.
18 OGI 748; Robert 1937: 201.
19 Van Looy 1976: 154; Sève 2014.
20 Sève 2014: 155–​7.
21 See Mirón 2018a: 33–​5.
22 On Hellenistic royal women, see especially the synthesis of Carney 2010. On Seleukid women, Coşkun
and McAuley 2016.
23 As can be observed in the different contributions in the present volume.
24 Cf. van Looy 1976: 155–​6.
25 Anth. Pal. 3. See, among others, Massa-​Pairault 1981–​2; Queyrel 2003: 24–​7; Sève 2014: 157–​62.
26 Telmessos (Allen 1983: no. 7); Aitolia (IG IX,12 1:179); Athens (OGI 248); Kolophon Nova (Bulletin
de Correspondance Hellénique 30, 1906: 349–​58); Lydia (TAM V, 1 690); Pergamon (OGI 292); hinterland
of Pergamon (Müller and Wörrle 2002).
27 IG II2 3171; IIasos 6; IOlympia 312; Hesperia 23, 1954: 252–​3.
28 In addition to the temple of Kyzikos: Hierapolis (OGI 308); Metropolis (IEph 3408); Pergamon
(Anatolische Mitteilungen 33, 1908: 375–​9); hinterland of Pergamon (Müller and Wörrle 2002); Teos
(OGI 309).
29 There is an extensive literature on the Great Altar. See, among others, Stewart 2000; Queyrel 2005.
30 Fehr 1997; Queyrel 2005: 126–​8.
31 Queyrel 2005: 79–​100.
32 Virgilio 1993: 44–​52; Ogden 1999: 201–​2; Stewart 2000; Thonemann 2013: 30–​44;.
33 Polyb. 22.20.4-​8; Suda, s.v. “Apollonias.” This visit and its implications have been more amply analyzed
in Mirón 2018a: 34–​5.
34 Hansen 1971: 460–​3; Allen 1983: 148–​53.
35 OGI 309. See Robert 1937: 314–​16; Mirón 2018a: 35–​6.
36 E.g. Eumenes II’s mention of his kinship with Miletos through its colony, Kyzikos (OGI 763;
RC 52).
37 Massa-​Pairault 1981–​2: 189.
38 Mirón 2018a: 36.
39 E.g. individual mailing to her of a copy of an Athenian decree concerning honors to the Attalid family
(OGI 248, l. 56–​7).
40 IIasos 6; RC 49. See Mirón 2018a: 36–​7.
41 Anatolische Mitteilungen 35, 1910: no. 24. On the sanctuary and Apollonis’ intervention, see Kohl 2009;
Mirón 2016.
42 Kohl 2009:148–​50; Piok Zanon 2009: 136–​44.
43 See Strang 2007.
44 IEph 3408; OGI 308–​9.
45 Kron 1996.
46 See Mirón 2018b.
47 She survived her husband for a long time (Polyb. 22.20.3). She was certainly alive in 175/​174 BCE
(OGI 248, l. 56–​7) and certainly dead in 164 BCE (Müller and Wörrle 2002). Probably, she was still
alive in 166 BCE (IG XII Suppl. 250; cf. Queyrel 2003: 35).
48 E.g. the sanctuary of Athena at Pergamon (OGI 291–​6); Bisanthe-​Panion, Thrace (OGI 302–​4; SEG
49,876–​7); Magnesia on the Meander (IMagnesia 83, 86, 87). Also dedications to her alone: Pergamon
(OGI 313); Delos (OGI 350).
49 Apart from Hierapolis (OGI 308), joint mention of both basilissai in Andros (IG XII Suppl. 250), and
shared priesthoods in Teos (OGI 309) and Pergamon (Anatolische Mitteilungen 33, 1908: 375–​379).

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50 Allen (1983: 200–​6), among others, proposed that Stratonike was much older, and, thus, her mother
could not have been Antiochis. Müller 1991: 396–​405 convincingly rejected this view.
51 Diod. 32.15.5 mentions a Kallippa, former concubine of King Perseus of Macedonia, as the wife of
Athenaios of Pergamon, maybe Apollonis’ youngest son (Kosmetatou 2003: 164).
52 Plutarch (Mor. 489F-​490A) affirms that Attalos did not legitimate the many children he had with
Stratonike in order to not threaten his nephew’s succession to the throne.
53 Among others, Polyb. 33.18.1–​2; Strab. 13.4.2; Plut. Mor. 489F–​490A.
54 In late and not always reliable sources (Just. 36.4; Lukian, Ikaromenippos 15). The possibility that Attalos
III was the result of the supposed brief marriage of Attalos II and Stratonike in 172 BCE, or of a later
adulterous relationship between them, has been convincingly refuted by, among others, Delorme 1967;
Allen 1983: 189–​94.
55 Ogden 1999: 202–​7, against all evidence.
56 OGI 331; RC 67.
57 Pergamon: Bulletin Épigraphique, 1971, no. 538. Athenian dedication in Delos: OGI 350. Both
dedications are similar, and they were surely parallel and contemporary. See Müller 1991.
58 It is difficult to trace the existence of other Attalid women, such as possible daughters of rulers or wives
of men who did not become rulers. Kallippa, Athenaios’ possible wife, has been mentioned. Justin
references a Berenike (Epit. 36.4) as wife of Attalos III (Arsinoë in Vitr. 4.1.4), a name that suggests a
Ptolemaic princess, but we do not have more specific and credible information. On possible Attalid
progeny from the female line, but without certitude, see Ogden 1999: 208–​10.
59 Kohl 2009: 141–​7.
60 Bulletin Épigraphique, 1971, no. 538.The same epigraphic formula in Delos (OGI 350). Both dedications
are dated after 167 BCE, i.e. after Attalos III’s birth. See Habicht 1990: 571, and especially Müller 1991,
who analyzes this filiation’s meaning at length. In any case, the identification of a married royal woman
only through the patronymic was not unusual, and denoted that her kinship with her birth family was
as important as the one with her husband (Carney 2010: 200–​1).
61 Kron 1996; Mirón 2017.
62 OGI 291–​6.
63 The imprint of Attalid women, particularly Apollonis, in the urban landscape of Pergamon is analyzed
at length by Mirón 2016.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

IEph  Engelmann, H., Wankel, H., and Merkelbach, R. (eds.) 1979–​ 1984. Die Inschriften von
Ephesos. Bonn.
IIasos Blümel, W. (ed.) 1985. Die Inschriften von Iasos. Bonn.
IMagnesia Kern, O. 1900. Die Inschriften von Magnesia am Maeander. Berlin.
IOlympia Dittenberger, W. and Purgold, K. 1896. Die Inschriften von Olympia. Berlin.
IPergamon Fränkel, M. 1890–​5. Die Inschriften von Pergamon. Berlin.

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Mirón, D. 2018a. “From Family to Politics: Queen Apollonis as Agent of Dynastic/​Political Loyalty.” In
C. Dunn and E. Carney (eds.), Royal Women and Dynastic Loyalty. Cham, 31–​48.
Mirón, D. 2018b.“The Queen and her Children: Royal Motherhood in Hellenistic Greece.” In M. Sánchez
and R. M. Cid (eds.), Motherhood and Infancies in the Mediterranean in Antiquity. Oxford, 159–​72.
Müller, H. 1991. “Königin Stratonike, Tochter des Königs Ariarathes.” Chiron 21: 393–​424.
Müller, H. and Wörrle, M. 2002. “Ein Verein im Hinterland Pergamons zur Zeit Eumenes’ II.” Chiron
32: 191–​235.
Ogden, D. 1999. Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death: The Hellenistic Dynasties. London.
Ogden, D. 2015. “What did Arsinoe tell Lysimachus about Philetaerus?” In T. Howe, E.E. Garvin, and
G. Wrightson (eds.), Greece, Macedon and Persia. Oxford, 172–​80.
Piok Zanon, C. 2009. The Sanctuary of Demeter at Pergamon: Architecture and Dynasty in the Early
Attalid Capital. PhD Dissertation, University of Pittsburgh.
Queyrel, F. 2003. Les portraits des Attalides. Paris.
Queyrel, F. 2005. L’Autel de Pergame. Images et pouvoir en Grèce d’Asie. Paris.
Robert, L. 1937. Études anatoliennes. Amsterdam.
Robert, L. 1973. “Sur les inscriptions de Délos.” Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique suppl. 1: 435–​89.
Schalles, H.J. 1985. Untersuchungen zur Kulturpolitik der pergamenischen Herrscher im dritten Jahrhundert vor
Christus. Tübingen.
Scheer, T.S. 2003. “The Past in a Hellenistic Present: Myth and Local Tradition.” In A. Erskine (ed.), A
Companion to the Hellenistic World. Oxford, 216–​31.
Sève, M. 2014. “Cyzique et les Attalids.” In M. Sève and P. Schlosser (eds.), Cyzique, cité majeure et méconnue
de la Propontide antique. Metz, 151–​65.
Stewart,A. 2000.“Pergamo Ara Marmorea Magna: On the Date, Reconstruction, and Functions of the Great
Altar at Pergamon.” In N.T. Grummond and B.S. Ridgway (eds.), From Pergamon to Sperlonga: Sculpture
and Context. Berkeley, 32–​57.

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Strang, J.R. 2007. The City of Dionysos: A Social and Historical Study of the Ionian City of Teos. PhD
Dissertation, State University of New York.
Thonemann, P. 2013. “The Attalid State, 188–​ 133 BC.” In P. Thonemann (ed.), Attalid Asia Minor.
Oxford, 1–​47.
Van Looy, H. 1976. “Apollonis reine de Pergame.” Ancient Society 7: 151–​65.
Virgilio, B. 1993. Gli Attalidi di Pergamo. Fama, eredità, memoria. Pisa.

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19
HASMONEAN WOMEN
Julia Wilker

The Hasmoneans belonged to those minor dynasties that emerged in the second century BCE
from the shadows of the large Hellenistic Empires, empowered in particular by the manifold
difficulties of the Seleukids. The rise of the Hasmoneans originated in the Maccabean revolt
against Antiochos IV Epiphanes that began in 168 BCE. The family’s patriarch, Mattathias,
established himself as the leader of the resistance movement and was, upon his death, succeeded
by his son Judas Maccabaeus.1 Under Judas’ command, the Maccabean movement celebrated
its most significant victory with the conquest of Jerusalem and the rededication of the Jewish
Temple in 164 BCE. Judas’ brother and successor, Jonathan (c. 160–​142 BCE), proved to be
a skillful politician and used intra-​Seleukid rivalries to his advantage. In 152 BCE, Alexander
Balas appointed him as the first Jewish high priest of the Maccabean family.2 The highest reli-
gious office would remain the basis of power for all future generations of Hasmonean rulers.
Full political independence was eventually reached in 140 BCE under Simon, the last of the
Maccabean brothers, who governed as high priest (ἀρχιερεύς), commander (στρατηγός), and
political ruler (ἡγούμενος).3
The Hasmoneans ruled Judea until 37 BCE and their reign is, in comparison to other
regional dynasties, well attested in the primary sources. In particular, the First Book of Maccabees,
which describes the story of the revolt and the rise of the Hasmoneans until the death of Simon,
and the historical works of Flavius Josephus allow us to reconstruct the history of the dynasty
and the structure of its rule. However, tracing the role of Hasmonean women proves more
difficult. Female family members are almost completely absent from the accounts of the early
Hasmonean period, and the evidence remains scarce even for later generations.4 Nonetheless,
several stories have survived that mention Hasmonean women. Many of these accounts are
anecdotal in character, and the historical accuracy of the narrative is doubtful.Yet as these stories
appear to have emerged close to the events, their very existence gives testimony to the growing
prominence of dynastic women in second-​and first-​century Judea. Female Hasmoneans thus
played an increasingly important role in the representation of the dynasty and the power struc-
ture that ensured its rule. These dynamics culminated in 76 BCE, when Salome Alexandra
assumed the throne after the death of her husband, Alexander Jannaios, and ruled in her own
right for nine years as one of the few queens regnant in the Hellenistic world.5 Interpreting
the role of women in the Hasmonean dynasty thus poses a conundrum, as the primary sources
do not explicitly address their significance, nor explain what prompted Alexander Jannaios to

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favor his wife as successor over one of his adult sons.Yet analyzing the main events and stories
involving Hasmonean women allows us to trace the main steps in the history of the dynasty
and its female members.
The women of the Hasmonean family are notoriously absent from accounts of the dynasty’s
rise to power, and the scarcity of information does not allow us to determine whether they
played any significant role during the revolt. However, there are some indications that the
mother of the Maccabees, the wife of Mattathias, assumed greater importance in the self-​
presentation of the emerging dynasty. In 142 BCE, Simon, the last of the Maccabean brothers,
assumed the leadership and the high priesthood after his brother Jonathan was captured and
killed by the Seleukid impostor, Diodotos Tryphon.6 One of Simon’s first actions was to collect
his brother’s remains, bury them in the Maccabean hometown Modein, and erect a monument
above the family tomb.To our knowledge, this was the first monument of this kind in Judea, and
1 Maccabees offers a detailed description:

And Simon built upon the tomb of his father and of his brothers and made it high
enough to be seen with hewn stone on the back and on the front. He also set up
seven pyramids, each one opposite another, for his father and his mother and his four
brothers.
(1Macc 13.27–​8)7

As a funeral monument, Simon’s mnemeion first and foremost signaled family unity. It honored
all of his fallen brothers, together with their parents, and the number of pyramids indicates that
Simon intended to be buried alongside his family as well. In this context, the seventh pyramid,
dedicated to the mother, is of major importance. This is the first and only time that the mother
of the Maccabees is mentioned in any of the primary sources. It is possible that she played a sig-
nificant role during the revolt and that her heroic deeds have fallen out of the historical record.
However, she seems to have primarily been honored as the mother of the five Maccabean
brothers. By honoring his mother in the same way as his father and brothers, Simon turned the
family tomb into a dynastic monument.8 The integration of the mother into the monument at
Modein thus indicates the beginning of dynastic self-​representation. It also highlights one of
the essential tasks that determined the roles of women in every dynastic system: to ensure the
continuity of the line.Yet the women of the Hasmonean family soon enough took over other
tasks as well, and they assumed even greater public visibility.
Several stories demonstrate that the wife of Simon was widely known in Judea. In contrast to
his brothers, Simon did not die in the fight against the Seleukids; he fell victim to a treacherous
plot. 1 Maccabees reports that around 135 BCE, Simon, together with two of his sons, undertook
a tour of inspection around the country. Their stops included the fortress of Doq, which was
the seat of Ptolemy, the son of a certain Aboubos, who served as governor of the region around
Jericho. Ptolemy is also introduced as Simon’s son-​in-​law, the only implicit reference to the
ruler’s daughter. She is never explicitly mentioned, yet the marriage shows that the Maccabees
used marital matches to ensure the loyalty of local elites, while keeping the most prestigious and
powerful positions in the emerging Hasmonean state within the family.9 However, Ptolemy did
not content himself with being the ruler’s son-​in-​law. 1 Maccabees describes that in the evening,
when the guests had become inebriated, Ptolemy signaled to his men and had his in-​laws
assassinated.10
Flavius Josephus’ historical works confirm the basic narrative of events. Yet according to
Josephus, only Simon was killed on the spot. His two sons and their mother, whose presence
is not noted at all in 1 Maccabees, were taken hostage by Ptolemy. When John Hyrkanos,

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Simon’s third son and successor, advanced with his troops against Doq and besieged the treach-
erous brother-​in-​law, Ptolemy had the three captives brought onto the wall and tortured, and
threatened to have them killed. Whereas in Josephus’ account John Hyrkanos struggles with
the choice between avenging his father and saving the remaining members of his family, the
mother is described as constantly encouraging him, expressing her willingness to die as long
as the rule of the family is preserved and Ptolemy punished. In the anticlimactic ending of the
story, John Hyrkanos eventually abandoned the siege, Ptolemy killed his hostages and escaped.11
Regardless of the historicity of the account’s details, it is of importance that the outstanding
hero of the story is not John Hyrkanos but his mother. She remains anonymous, yet she is the
one who withstands torture and, even in the face of death, defends and ensures the rule of the
dynasty. That a story like this emerged after her death demonstrates that she must have assumed
a considerable public profile during her husband’s reign and been regarded as a favorable figure
among supporters of the Hasmonean dynasty.12
The wife of Simon also figures largely in another story. In a famous episode from the reign
of her son, John Hyrkanos, Josephus records that the ruler once hosted a dinner for leaders of
the religious group of the Pharisees. When John Hyrkanos asked if they had any complaints
about his government, a certain Eleazar requested that he content himself with political power
and relinquish the office of the high priest, “for we have heard from the elders that your mother
was a captive in the reign of Antiochos Epiphanes.”13 This was a serious allegation. The sons
of former female war captives were excluded from priestly honors, because it was assumed
that their mothers had been raped.14 Eleazar thus challenged not only John Hyrkanos’ but the
whole dynasty’s legitimacy as high priests. In the context of Josephus’ narrative, the story is
meant to explain the break of the Hasmonean dynasty with the Pharisees. However, its very
existence underscores that Simon’s wife, the mother of John Hyrkanos, was a prominent figure
in contemporary Judea.
The two stories briefly discussed here form the only evidence we have for Simon’s wife and
her role at her husband’s side. Both episodes are anecdotal in character; yet the very fact that
such stories emerged and were spread widely enough that they were still known more than
200 years later, when Josephus composed his works, signals that Simon’s wife was considered a
representative of the dynasty. The story of the standoff at Doq paints her in a glaringly positive
light, presenting her as the steadfast heroine of Hasmonean rule. In contrast, the episode about
Eleazar’s charges uses her alleged past as a Seleukid war captive to delegitimize Hasmonean rule.
Whereas the first story must have originated among supporters of the Hasmonean dynasty, the
latter was spread by opponents.15 Despite their opposite agendas, both factions used the wife of
Simon, mother of John Hyrkanos. Over the course of the centuries, her name fell into oblivion;
yet the anecdotes prove that Hasmonean women gained greater traction and played an increas-
ingly significant role in the representation of the dynasty.
The growing importance of Hasmonean women in the public perception of the dyn-
asty mirrors developments in other kingdoms and realms in the eastern Mediterranean in
the second century BCE. Beyond such general trends, certain features emerged due to local
traditions. In Hasmonean Judea, the Jewish identity of the vast majority of the population and
the ruling family was most influential. The Maccabees had gained power through resistance
against Seleukid rule and in a fight that was fervently presented as a defense of Jewish religion.
At the same time, a redefined priestly hierarchy formed the backbone of Hasmonean power
since Jonathan had assumed the high priesthood in 152 BCE. The combination of political
power and religious authority remained the foundation of Hasmonean power and identity,
with major consequences for the women of the family. The allegations against the mother of
John Hyrkanos, mentioned above, highlight one aspect: the requirements of priestly purity.

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According to the biblical regulations, the high priesthood was patrilineal, but the mother of a
high priest also had to stem from a priestly family. Since it was in the interest of the dynasty
that all male members were eligible for the high priesthood, these prescriptions significantly
narrowed down the potential choices of marital partners. Although these limitations did not
apply to the daughters of the family, they were also required to marry Jews. The Hasmoneans
thus could not form marital alliances with other dynasties and had to forfeit one of the most
prominent tools of Hellenistic diplomacy.16
Based on the Second Commandment, the dynasty also did not use any form of visual
representation of rulers or their relatives.17 As an additional differentiation from other Hellenistic
dynasties, the epigraphic habit never firmly took root in Hasmonean Judea. The absence of
inscriptions contributes to the scarcity of information we have about Hasmonean women,
considering that much of our information about dynastic women elsewhere is derived from
epigraphic evidence. The Jewish identity of the Hasmoneans and their subjects also meant
that other avenues of female representation open to royal women in the Hellenistic world did
not exist in Judea. A dynastic cult could not be established, and Jewish tradition did not allow
women to assume religious positions, let alone the priesthood. As a dynasty emerging out of
the resistance against the Seleukids, the early Hasmoneans did not assume the kingly title but
ruled as high priest, ethnarch, and strategos. Whereas the combination of religious, political, and
military power endowed the respective ruler with all the authorities needed, none of these titles
carried a derivative for his wife. The position of female Hasmoneans thus remained undefined
until 104 BCE.
Although its Jewish identity set the Judean dynasty apart from others in the Hellenistic
world, Judaism and Hellenism should not be seen as fundamentally opposed binaries. Instead,
the Hasmoneans combined more generic Hellenistic elements with cultural features that were
specific to the Jews; like other dynasties in the eastern Mediterranean they conformed with the
local traditions and thus created their own, locally specific forms of Hellenistic kingship. This
also applied to the roles assigned to and assumed by dynastic women. In Hasmonean Judea, the
restrictions discussed above limited the official status and, to some extent, the public visibility of
the women of the ruling family. However, such limitations did not prevent an increasingly more
prominent and even influential position for female Hasmoneans.These dynamics are difficult to
trace in the sources that have survived, but they came to the fore when John Hyrkanos died in
104 BCE. According to Josephus, the ruler did not designate one of his five sons as his successor,
but instead chose his wife to succeed him on the throne.18 The background of this unpre-
cedented arrangement is unknown. At the time of John Hyrkanos’ death, at least two of his
sons had already reached maturity and gained reputation as military commanders. No conflicts
between them and their father are reported.19 That John Hyrkanos nonetheless decided to leave
political power to his wife was a signal of trust in her political capabilities.The details of his plans
remain unknown because, immediately after his father’s death, Aristoboulos, the eldest son of
John Hyrkanos, revolted and imprisoned his mother and three of his brothers.20 Yet the prece-
dent was set and would be taken up again three decades later by Alexander Jannaios.
Aristoboulos was also the first Hasmonean ruler to adopt the royal title, and he thus ruled as
high priest and king.21 The official change to monarchy did not affect the political hierarchies in
Judea and might have been motivated primarily by the desire to interact with neighboring kings
on a par, but it also had significant implications for the women of the family.With Aristoboulos’
designation as king, his wife became basilissa—​the first Hasmonean woman to be adorned
with an official title and position. No further details about her public role and presentation are
known, yet the title is confirmed by Flavius Josephus, who consistently calls her basilissa.22 It also
may not be a coincidence that Salina Alexandra is also the first Hasmonean woman whose name

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has been preserved. In fact, the combination of a Hebrew and a Greek name mirrored the prac-
tice among male Hasmonean rulers and indicates that the new queen interacted with different
ethnic groups and potentially embassies from outside of Judea.23 Salina Alexandra’s promin-
ence also shines through in the story Josephus records about her husband’s end. Aristoboulos
only ruled for one year and was severely ill for a considerable part of his tenure. While he was
indisposed, his brother Antigonos, the only one he had not imprisoned, performed some royal
tasks and was, in all likelihood, perceived as the designated heir to the throne. According to
Josephus, several courtiers and Salina Alexandra conspired against the prince and convinced
Aristoboulos that Antigonos wanted to topple him. Eventually, the king was convinced, and
Antigonos was killed in an elaborate ruse.24 The historicity of the account is doubtful, yet
regardless of the actual historicity of the story, the queen is presented as an integral part of
court society who conspired with high-​ranking members of her husband’s administration to
interfere in succession matters. This image is further confirmed by the following events. When
Aristoboulos died shortly after his brother’s demise, there was no heir to the throne immediately
available. In this crucial moment, Salina Alexandra “released his brothers […] and appointed as
king Jannaios, also known as Alexander, who was best fitted for this office by reason of his age
and his evenness of temper.”25 Josephus’ laconic statement does not give any further details, but
it emphasizes that in the absence of a male candidate, the basilissa stepped up and was perceived
as holding enough authority to free her imprisoned brothers-​in-​law. It is also indicated that she
held the authority to decide which of the three remaining Hasmonean brothers was to succeed
her late husband on the throne. This chain of events suggests that Salina Alexandra and her
circle had planned these measures beforehand, and her role in Alexander Jannaios’ assumption
of power presumably gave credence to the story about her involvement in Antigonos’ death.
However, it remains unclear why she did not attempt to maintain power for herself. Instead, the
release and appointment of Alexander Jannaios is the last action reported for her; afterwards, she
vanishes from the historical accounts.
Alexander Jannaios ruled Judea as high priest and king for 27 years, a tenure second in length
only to that of his father, John Hyrkanos. Speculations in modern scholarship that Salome
Alexandra is identical to Salina Alexandra and that Alexander Jannaios married his brother’s
widow are unsubstantiated and based on name similarity alone. In fact, no primary source prior
to Eusebius hints at such a match.26 According to Josephus, the couple’s eldest son, Hyrkanos II,
was born before Aristoboulos ascended the throne.27 Furthermore, the biblical regulations for
Levirate marriage explicitly excluded the high priest, and it is hard to believe that Alexander
Jannaios would have begun his reign with such a blatant act of transgression.28 The homonymy
might thus be a coincidence or indicate that royal women also adopted throne names as soon
as they assumed their new position of honor. Salome Alexandra served as basilissa at Alexander
Jannaios’ side for the entire length of his reign, yet Josephus’ relatively extensive report on his
tenure does not mention her once before the very end of the king’s life. Stories preserved in
Rabbinic literature reference the king and queen entertaining guests together. Their historical
background is difficult to discern, but they reflect the prominent position that Salome Alexandra
assumed during Alexander Jannaios’ reign.29 When the king died in 76 BCE, he established
Salome Alexandra as successor to the throne. Alexander Jannaios thus followed the precedent set
by his father, John Hyrkanos; yet this time, the unusual succession proved successful.
Salome Alexandra acceded to the throne smoothly and ruled successfully as queen in her
own right until her death in 67 BCE. The reasons for this unique arrangement—​in which a
king was succeeded on the throne by his widow despite having two adult sons—​remain unclear.
In Hasmonean Judea, the reign of a queen proved even more complicated, because women were
excluded from the high priesthood. Salome Alexandra appointed her eldest son, Hyrkanos II,

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as high priest, effectively subjugating the highest religious authority to her political command.
Despite this deviation from the Hasmonean norm, no conflicts or widespread opposition against
Salome Alexandra are reported. Instead, the primary sources describe her reign as a remarkably
peaceful and prosperous time for Judea.30 Salome Alexandra’s strong and stable position on the
throne is further indicated by her major political decisions. Whereas her foreign policy seemed
to have largely followed the paths laid out by her predecessors, internally she shifted favor from
the religious group of the Sadducees to the Pharisees, who had been fervently oppressed under
Alexander Jannaios.31 Such a significant change, with major impacts on the administration and
composition of the elite, underlines that the queen pursued her own agenda and was capable of
enforcing it even against oppositional factions among her late husband’s supporters.
Nonetheless, several of the stories preserved in Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities firmly employ
common gender stereotypes. For instance, the account of Alexander Jannaios’ death presents
Salome Alexandra as a lamenting woman who is fearful for her own future and that of her chil-
dren.32 According to this story, the political shift toward the Pharisees was an idea of Alexander
Jannaios, who advised his soon-​to-​be widow to show favor to the religious faction that was
most popular among his subjects. The anecdote is hard to believe, and its plot is unlikely given
the relentless suppression of the Pharisees throughout Alexander Jannaios’ reign. As such, the
story presumably constitutes an attempt to legitimize the political changes in the eyes of the
late king’s loyal supporters, yet it also employed common gender constructs. Salome Alexandra
is presented as a weak and frightened woman who only follows her husband’s advice and has no
agenda of her own—​not as a queen regnant who pursued her political goals even if they were
in disagreement with the policies of her late husband.
The shift in favor toward the Pharisees and the ensuing restructuring of the elite caused
concern among the more traditional factions, but the underlying conflicts only escalated after
Salome Alexandra’s death. When she fell fatally ill in 67 BCE, she handed political power to
Hyrkanos II, who thus reunited political and religious authority in his hands and re-​established
the Hasmonean norm. It was only then that her second son, Aristoboulos II, dared to launch
a revolt, backed by large parts of the traditional elite.33 Salome Alexandra remained the only
Hasmonean queen to rule legitimately over Judea in her own right. She was also the last ruler
of the Hasmonean house who managed to maintain a stable and successful rule. After her death,
the dynasty and the country were torn apart in a civil war that lasted for three decades.
Thanks to widespread support among the army and the administration, Aristoboulos II
quickly gained the upper hand against Hyrkanos II and claimed the high priesthood and
kingship.34 However, Hyrkanos soon challenged Aristoboulos again, spurred on by his right-​
hand man, Antipater, the father of Herod the Great. The revived conflict between the two
Hasmonean brothers was brought to a temporary halt by a new power arriving in the East: the
Roman Republic. Both warring parties appealed to Pompey, who eventually decided in favor
of Hyrkanos. When Aristoboulos resisted, the Roman general conquered Jerusalem in 63 BCE,
the beginning of Roman hegemony over Judea. Hyrkanos was re-​established as high priest,
yet he had to relinquish the royal title and ruled as ethnarch instead. Aristoboulos was taken
prisoner and brought to Rome with his children, but the conflict between the two branches
of the family would soon escalate again.35 The women of the dynasty are rarely mentioned in
the accounts of the civil war, but they played a significant role in attempts to move beyond
the fracture within the family. As a reconciliatory measure, Hyrkanos’ daughter Alexandra and
Aristoboulos’ son Alexander were married around 55 BCE.36 But even the endogamous match
could not prevent a new outbreak of hostilities. Alexander, who revolted again against his uncle
and father-​in-​law, was captured by the Roman general Gabinius. At the same time, his mother
(left anonymous in Josephus’ reports) also negotiated with Gabinius and convinced two rebel

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fortresses to surrender in exchange for the promise that her children would be released from
Roman captivity.37 The details of these negotiations are left unclear, yet Aristoboulos’ wife, a
former basilissa of Judea, apparently held enough clout to bargain with a Roman general. In
turn, the rebels followed her orders while her husband and sons were absent.38
Whereas the marriage of Alexander and Alexandra did not succeed in reuniting the dyn-
asty, another marital match proved even more consequential for the future of Judea. Under
the pressure of the rival branch of the family, now led by Aristoboulos’ second son, Antigonos,
Hyrkanos II relied increasingly on Antipater and his offspring. Antipater had formed strong ties
to whoever represented Roman power in the region and enjoyed Roman trust and support. His
sons, Phasael and Herod, followed in their father’s footsteps and maintained power and influence
even after Antipater’s death in 43 BCE. To secure the Antipatrids’ loyalty, Hyrkanos betrothed
his granddaughter Mariamme, daughter of Alexandra and Alexander, to Herod.39 Such a marital
strategy was not uncommon in the Hasmonean dynasty, but the political dynamics took an
unexpected turn.
In 41 BCE, Antigonos invaded Judea again, now with Parthian military support. Hyrkanos
and Herod’s brother Phasael were taken captive, leaving Herod as the sole leader of Hyrkanos’
party in freedom. After a narrow escape from Jerusalem, he fled to Rome to ask for help. It is
unlikely that Herod harbored any plans to obtain the royal title for himself. Instead, he might
have planned to rally Roman support for Mariamme’s younger brother, Aristoboulos (III), the
only male relative of Hyrkanos’ line. In 40 BCE, Aristoboulos was barely a teenager, and Herod
could have presented himself as a suitable regent for his future brother-​in-​law. However, Rome’s
strategic interests differed. With the support of Mark Antony and Octavian, the Roman Senate
declared Herod as King of Judea.40 In 37 BCE, the Roman army captured Jerusalem again
to establish the new ruler on the throne. However, before the final conquest of the capital,
Herod made sure to marry Mariamme, who had by now reached marital age. He thus entered
Jerusalem not only as a military victor but also as somebody who belonged to the traditional
dynasty, although only by marriage.41
Herod thus assumed power backed by and on behalf of Rome, and he ruled Judea as a
Roman client king for more than three decades, his tenure effectively ending the Hasmonean
period. However, his marriage to Mariamme constituted—​at least for the first years of his
reign—​a major pillar of his legitimacy, for his subjects and, in all likelihood, his Roman overlords.
Mariamme was thus the last Hasmonean and the first Herodian queen consort. Her time as
queen was marred by bitter conflicts between the old and the new dynasties. In Josephus’
lengthy accounts of rivalries and infighting at the court, Mariamme and her mother, Alexandra,
are described as the leading forces behind the opposition against Herod, fighting with words
and intrigues to re-​establish Hasmonean glory. In the end, they lost this fight and were executed
by Herod in 29 and 28 BCE, respectively.42

Conclusion
The scarcity of evidence makes it difficult to reconstruct the role of Hasmonean women, but the
few sources that have been preserved show the increasing significance of the female members of
the dynasty. As wives and mothers, they ensured the continuity of the line and had to guarantee
that the regulations of priestly purity were observed. The marriages, especially of the daughters
of the family, were employed to strengthen ties and ensure the loyalty of high-​ranking officials,
while in times of crisis endogamous matches were meant to calm tensions and rivalries within
the dynasty. The role of Hasmonean women in representation is not directly attested, yet anec-
dotal evidence points at a growing prominence and public visibility. Against this background,

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the political interference reported for several Hasmonean women of the third and fourth gen-
eration appears particularly striking. John Hyrkanos designated his wife to succeed him on the
throne, and even though her attempt to assume power was thwarted by her son Aristoboulos,
John Hyrkanos’ will had set a precedent. Salina Alexandra, the first Hasmonean basilissa, was
rumored to have conspired against her brother-​in-​law and briefly wielded power after her
husband’s death. Alexander Jannaios also appointed his wife as successor, and Salome Alexandra
ruled successfully for nine years, one of the few queens regnant in the Hellenistic world. That
a dying king designated his wife as successor was already extraordinary; that he would choose
her over his adult sons rendered the decision of John Hyrkanos and Alexander Jannaios unique.
The reasons for such a deviation from both Hellenistic and Hasmonean norms are unknown,
especially since no severe conflicts between the rulers and their male offspring are known.
However, it should be noted that neither John Hyrkanos nor Alexander Jannaios excluded their
sons from the line of succession; instead, the next generation’s assumption of power was only to
be postponed for the duration of the mother’s tenure.
Although nothing is known about either woman during the reigns of their respective
husbands, it might not be a coincidence that the two were consorts of the Hasmonean rulers
with the longest tenures. Both wives lived for more than 25 years at the court, experienced
political crises, and must have gained intimate knowledge of governmental affairs. Both John
Hyrkanos and Alexander Jannaios trusted that their wives would be more capable and successful
rulers than any of their sons, indicating that they had discussed issues of the state with them and
that the women had served as their advisors, perhaps even in a semi-​official capacity. In turn, to
make a bid for power feasible, Hasmonean consorts must have developed a public profile and
reputation.To gain official recognition, they had to count on supporters at the court and among
the elites. The succession plans of John Hyrkanos and Alexander Jannaios thus also allow us to
draw conclusions about their wives’ roles during the rulers’ lifetimes.
In the historical context of the second and first century BCE, the preference for a widow
over her adult sons remains puzzling, especially because the Hasmoneans did not promote or
employ any ideology of queenship. The Hebrew Bible and later Jewish traditions did not pro-
vide any role model or modes of legitimation for queens.43 During the Hasmonean period,
several stories emerged or gained popularity that center around a heroine. However, the female
protagonists of signature novels such as Judith and Greek Esther cannot be read as reflecting
Hasmonean queens; they feature prominent female figures, yet they are far from depicting a
woman taking power permanently and legitimately.44
The lack of Jewish models for queenship has led many scholars to characterize the increasing
significance and power of Hasmonean women such as Salome Alexandra as a particularly
“Hellenistic” trait of the Judean dynasty. This interpretation is in part correct; the growing
influence and visibility of the female members of the ruling family cannot be adequately under-
stood without consideration of similar developments in the Hellenistic empires and kingdoms
around Judea. However, it would be simplistic to identify the unique features and particularities
of the Hasmonean system—​and the role assumed by Hasmonean women within this system—​
as generically “Hellenistic.” Whereas Hellenistic dynasties shared certain central features and a
common language of power, they all also displayed distinctive characteristics, often based on
local traditions and cultural traits. The Hasmoneans adopted elements used by other mon-
archies, from titles and symbols of royalty to the administrative structure. Yet although the
second and first century BCE saw a general increase in prominence, influence, and even power
for royal women across the Hellenistic world, there was no precedent for widows succeeding
their husbands on the throne over their adult sons. This feature of Hasmonean succession was
thus a result of specific circumstances and a specific Hasmonean interpretation of dynastic rule.

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Despite the case of John Hyrkanos’ will and Salome Alexandra’s reign, the assumption of formal
power by a woman was not considered the norm in Hasmonean Judea either. Yet it was an
option that could be activated to prevent a crisis or if the succession of the ruler’s widow was
perceived as preferable in a particular historical situation. This is even more remarkable because
the combination of religious and political power lay at the core of Hasmonean ideology and
legitimacy. With a woman at the top of the political hierarchy, the Jewish high priesthood was
automatically subordinated to the authority of the queen. That this fragile system still worked
successfully during the reign of Salome Alexandra speaks to her reputation and the strength
of the dynasty. To maintain the rule of the Hasmonean family, even commonly held gender
constructs were disregarded. Similar dynamics, although with a less successful conclusion, are
shown again in one of the latest stories known about a Hasmonean woman. Josephus reports
that more than six years after Herod had been established on the throne by Roman forces, the
king finally conquered the last stronghold of his enemies, the fortress Hyrkania in the Judean
desert.45 This band of rebels was led by a sister of Antigonos, who remains anonymous. We
do not know when she gained control over Hyrkania, how she and her followers managed
to survive there, or what happened to her after the conquest. However, her loyal supporters
acknowledged her as their leader and, we should assume, legitimate heir to the throne, even
though she eventually had to succumb to Herod’s military superiority.
The Hasmonean dynasty lost its power through internal rivalry, civil war, and Roman interven-
tion. The marriage to Mariamme paved the way for Herod’s assumption of the throne, but it
also marked the transition from one dynasty to the next.The family line and heritage continued
through Mariamme’s descendants, including Agrippa I, the last king of Judea (37–​44 CE), and
his daughter Berenike, the famous lover of the Roman emperor Titus. Personal names associated
with the Hasmoneans, such as Salome and Mariamme, remained prominent among Jewish
women in Judea and the diaspora long after the demise of the dynasty.46 However, Judea would
never be ruled by a queen again.

Notes
1 The name Maccabees is commonly used for Mattathias and the generation of his sons; later generations
are called the Hasmonean dynasty. For overviews of Maccabean and Hasmonean history see, for
instance, Goldstein 1989; Sievers 1990; Rajak 1994; Dabrowa 2010; Regev 2013.
2 1Macc 10.18–​21; Joseph. AJ 13.43–​6. Sievers 1990: 83–​6;Vanderkam 2004: 251–​70.
3 1Macc 14.27, 35, 41–​2, cf. 1Macc 14.47.
4 Cf. Sievers 1988; Schwentzel 2011; Wilker 2016.
5 Liebowitz 2011; Atkinson 2012. Josephus calls the queen only by her Greek name Alexandra; the
Rabbinic sources refer to her as Shelamtzo/​Shelamtzi/​Shelmatza. References in two fragments from
the Dead Sea Scrolls confirm that the queen’s Hebrew name was Shelamzion; 4Q331 1 ii.7; 4Q332
2.4 (ed. DJD 36); Ilan 2006: 57–​8. The combination Salome Alexandra used here follows scholarly
convention.
6 1Macc 12.39–​48, 13.12–​23; Joseph. BJ 1.49–​50; AJ 13.191–​209.
7 Cf. Joseph. AJ 13.211–12. Fine 2001.
8 Wilker 2016: 234–​5.
9 1Macc 16.11–​12; Joseph. BJ 1.54; AJ 13.228. Sievers 1990: 131; Wilker 2017: 1–​4.
10 1Macc 16.11–​22.
11 Joseph. BJ 1.54–​60; AJ 13.228–​35. For discussion of the character and probable origin of the story, see
Sievers 1990: 130–​1; Ilan 2001: 99–​100; Wilker 2017: esp. 7–​13.
12 Wilker 2017: 16–​18, 22–​3.
13 Joseph. AJ 13.292, for the entire episode see AJ 13.289–​96.
14 Lev 21.7, 14; Joseph. Ap. 1.30–​5; AJ 3.276–​7; see also MKetubot 2.9; 4.8. Josephus reports that similar
allegations were raised against John Hyrkanos’ son Alexander Jannaios (Joseph. AJ 13.372). A story

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preserved in the tractate Qiddushin of the Babylonian Talmud (bQiddushin 66a) ascribes a similar story
also to Alexander Jannaios. However, it seems most plausible that the various stories that circulated
originally emerged during the time of John Hyrkanos and targeted the past of his mother, the wife
of Simon. For a comparison between Josephus’ accounts and the Talmudic story see Noam 2014: esp.
34–​9, 46–​58;VanderKam 2004: 298–​304; Ilan and Noam 2017: 255–​85; Noam 2018: 76–​116.
15 Wilker 2017: 17–​18.
16 Lev 21.13–​14, cf. Joseph. AJ 3.277; Philo spec.leg. 1.110–​11. The only known exception is Alexandra,
daughter of Aristoboulos II, who was married to both Philippion and Ptolemy of Chalkis. However,
this match was a product of the civil war, Joseph. BJ 1.185–​6; AJ 14.126.
17 Ex 20.4–​6. The only attested statue of a Hasmonean ruler was erected in Athens in honor of John
Hyrkanos (Joseph. AJ 14.153).
18 Joseph. BJ 1.71; AJ 13.302.
19 According to Joseph. AJ 13.322, John Hyrkanos was particularly fond of his two eldest sons,Aristoboulos
and Antigonos, and he allegedly even sent his son Alexander Jannaios away to ensure the succession of
the two. In 108/​107 BCE, Aristoboulos and Antigonos served as commanders in the successful cam-
paign against Antiochos IX Kyzikenos; cf. Jos. BJ 1.64–​6 (with wrong identification of the Seleukid
king as Antiochos VIII Grypos); AJ 13.276–​83.
20 Joseph. BJ 1.70–​1; AJ 13.301–​2. Josephus also states that whereas Aristoboulos only imprisoned his
brothers, he let his mother starve to death in prison, although this is presumably a malicious rumor.
21 Joseph. BJ 1.70; AJ 13.301.
22 Joseph. BJ 1.76; AJ 13.308.
23 In AJ 13.320, Josephus introduces her as Σαλίνα […] λεγομένη δὲ ὑπὸ Ἑλλήνων Ἀλεξάνδρα.
24 Joseph. BJ 1.72–​7; AJ 13.303–​9.
25 Joseph. AJ 13.320; cf. BJ 1.85.
26 Salina is either an erroneous rendition of Salome or an independent Semitic name, Ilan 1993: 185–​6;
Ilan 2006, 55–​6 (interpreting Salina and Salome as two different names). Euseb. Chron. (ed. Schoene)
1.130, cf. Jer. Chron. 1941. A similar identification is made, inter alia, by Sievers 1988: 135–​6; Goldstein
1989: 334; Saulnier 1990; Geiger 2002: 4–​5; with some caution Vanderkam 2004: 304, 318 n. 210;
Dabrowa 2010: 85–​6; Schwentzel 2011: 233–​4. For arguments against this identification see Ilan 1993;
Ilan 2006: 50–​8; Atkinson 2012: 63; Wilker 2016: 245–​6.
27 Joseph. AJ 15.178; cf. Ilan 1993: 187.
28 Deut. 25.5–​10; Lev 21.13–​14; cf. Philo spec. leg. 1.105–​108; mYebamot 6.4; mSanhedrin 2.1–​2. Ilan
1993: 182.
29 yBerakhot 7.2, 11b; yNazir 5.5, 54b; Scholion O on Megillat Taanit, 28 Tevet (ed. Noam 2003, 107); cf. also
bBerakhot 48a; bShabbat 16bb; Genesis Rabbah 91.4; Qohelet Rabbah 7.24.
30 See esp. Joseph. AJ 13.409, 429, 432; Sifre Deut. 42b. Josephus’ account also includes severe criticism of
the queen (see esp. Joseph. AJ 13.417, 430–​1). However, these passages rather appear as reflecting his
own objection against female rule. For the contemporary opposition against the queen’s endorsement
of the Pharisees see Joseph. AJ 13.411–​17.
31 Joseph. BJ 1.110–​13; AJ 13.408–​10.
32 Joseph. AJ 13.398–​404; cf. Goldstein 1989: 343–​4; Dabrowa 2010: 120.
33 Joseph. BJ 1.117–​20; AJ 13.422–​8.
34 Joseph. BJ 1.120–​2; AJ 14.4–​7.
35 Joseph. BJ 1.152–​3, 157–​8; AJ 14.69–​73, 79.
36 Joseph. BJ 1.241; cf. AJ 14.300, 15.23. The other clearly attested endogamous marriage was between
Aristoboulos II and the daughter of Absalom, a son of John Hyrkanos, Joseph. AJ 13.323, 14.71.
37 Joseph. AJ 14.89–​90, cf. BJ 1.167–​8.
38 Josephus never uses the title basilissa for her, but we can assume that she used it at least during the reign
of her husband.
39 Joseph. AJ 14.300, 325; cf. BJ 1.240–​1 (with erroneous dating). Baltrusch 2012: 66–​7; Richardson
2018: 109–​10.
40 Joseph. BJ 1.281–​5; AJ 14.381–​7. Schalit 2001: 81–​8; Baltrusch 2012: 74–​82; Richardson 2018: 114–​17.
41 Joseph. BJ 1.344; AJ 14.467.
42 Joseph. BJ 1.443–​4; AJ 15.222–​30, 251.
43 The biblical tradition presents powerful queens such as Jezebel (1Kings 16.31, 18.3–​4, 13, 19.1–​4,
21.5–​16; 2Kings 9.7–​10, 30–​37) and Athaliah (2Kings 11.1–​3, 13–​20; 2Chron 22.3, 10–​12, 23, 12–​21)
in a distinctively negative light. Influential queen mothers, such as Bathsheba (1Kings 1.11–​31, 2.19)

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or Maacah (1Kings 15.2, 13, 2Chron 11.20–​2, 15.16), could not serve as precedent either. Cf. Solvang
2003. Kiesow 2000, esp. 135–​85. Only Deborah might have been called upon as a positive role model
(Judges 4.4–​10, 5.7, 12), yet there is no evidence that any Hasmonean women ever referred to her in
their self-​presentation. For a contrary view see Schwentzel 2011: 231–​4.
44 For the interpretation of Esther and Judith as advocating for Salome Alexandra, cf. Ilan 2001: esp. 127–​53.
45 Joseph. BJ 1.364.
46 For the popularity of Hasmonean names from the Hellenistic period to around 200 CE, see Ilan
2002: 6–​9.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Atkinson, K. 2012. Queen Salome: Jerusalem’s Warrior Monarch of the First Century B.C.E. Jefferson and
London.
Baltrusch, E. 2012. Herodes. König im Heiligen Land. München.
Dąbrowa, E. 2010. The Hasmoneans and their State: A Study in History, Ideology, and the Institutions. Krakow.
Fine, S. 2001. Art and Identity in Later Second Temple Period Judaea: The Hasmonean Royal Tombs at Modiʻin.
Cincinnati.
Geiger, J. 2002. “The Hasmonaeans and Hellenistic Succession.” Journal of Jewish Studies 53: 1–​17.
Goldstein, J.A. 1989. “The Hasmonean Revolt and the Hasmonean Dynasty.” In W.D. Davies and
L. Finkelstein (eds.), The Cambridge History of Judaism, vol. 2: The Hellenistic Age. Cambridge, 292–​351.
Ilan, T. 1993. “Queen Salamzion Alexandra and Judas Aristobulus I’s Widow.” Journal for the Study of Judaism
24: 181–​90.
Ilan, T. 2001. Integrating Women into Second Temple History. Peabody.
Ilan, T. 2002. Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, Part I: Palestine 330 BCE–​200 CE. Tübingen.
Ilan, T. 2006. Silencing the Queen: The Literary Histories of Shelamzion and other Jewish Women. Tübingen.
Ilan, T. and Noam,V. 2017. Josephus and the Rabbis. Jerusalem [Hebrew].
Kiesow, A. 2000. Löwinnen von Juda. Frauen als Subjekte politischer Macht in der judäischen Königszeit. Münster.
Liebowitz, E. 2011. Queen Alexandra: The Anomaly of a Sovereign Jewish Queen in the Second Temple
Period. PhD Dissertation, Hebrew University, Jerusalem.
Noam,V. 2003. Megillat Taʻanit: Versions, Interpretation, History. Jerusalem [Hebrew].
Noam,V. 2014. “The Story of King Jannaeus (b. Qiddušin 66a): A Pharisaic Reply to Sectarian Polemic.”
Harvard Theological Review 107: 31–​58.
Noam, V. 2018. Shifting Images of the Hasmoneans: Second Temple Legends and Their Reception in Josephus and
Rabbinic Literature. Oxford and New York.
Rajak, T. 1994. “The Jews under Hasmonean Rule.” In J.A. Crook, A. Lintott, and E. Rawson (eds.), The
Cambridge Ancient History, vol. IX: The Last Age of the Roman Republic, 2nd ed. Cambridge, 274–​309.
Regev, E. 2013. The Hasmoneans: Ideology, Archaeology, Identity. Göttingen.
Richardson, P. and Fisher, A.M. 2018. Herod: King of the Jews and Friend of the Romans, 2nd ed. Abingdon
and New York.
Saulnier, Chr. 1990. “L’Aîné et Le Porphyrogénète. Recherche Chronologique Sur Hyrcan II et Aristobule
II.” Revue Biblique 97: 54–​62.
Schalit, A. 2001. König Herodes. Der Mann und sein Werk, 2nd ed. Berlin and New York.
Schwentzel, Chr.-​ G. 2011. “Les Fonctions des Souveraines Hasmonéennes, Herodiennes et
Nabatéennes: Etude Comparative.” Studi Ellenistici 11: 231–​49.
Sievers, J. 1988. “The Role of Women in the Hasmonean Dynasty.” In L.H. Feldman and G. Hata (eds.),
Josephus, the Bible and History. Tokyo and Detroit, 132–​46.
Sievers, J. 1990. The Hasmoneans and Their Supporters: From Mattathias to the Death of John Hyrcanus I. Atlanta.
Solvang, E. 2003. A Woman’s Place is in the House: Royal Women and their Involvement in the House of David.
Sheffield.
VanderKam, J. C. 2004. From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after Exile. Minneapolis.

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Wilker, J. 2016. “The Hasmoneans between Jewish and Traditions and Hellenistic Influence.” In A. Coşkun
and A. McAuley (eds.), Seleukid Royal Women: Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic
Queenship in the Seleukid Empire. Stuttgart, 231–​52.
Wilker, J. 2017. “Noble Death and Dynasty: A Local Tradition from the Hasmonean Period in Josephus.”
Journal for the Study of Judaism 48: 1–​23.

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20
WOMEN AT THE
ARSAKID COURT
Irene Madreiter and Udo Hartmann

Introduction
In around 247 BCE the Arsakid dynasty arose in the landscape of Parthyene, southeast of the
Caspian Sea in northeastern Iran, and founded the Parthian Empire. Especially after conquering
the Seleukid capital Seleukeia-​Ktesiphon in 141 BCE, the Arsakids were the leading force in
the ancient Near East for the next three centuries.1 Modern research views the Arsakids in a
tradition starting with the earlier Achaimenid kingdom and, in some aspects, also that of the
Seleukids,2 from whom the Arsakids took elements of royal ideology, administration, economy,
and art. Therefore it is likely that court society was also similar to that of the earlier kingdoms.
Since Arsakids were the archenemies of the Roman Empire, one would expect that extant
Greek and Latin sources to provide a vivid picture of life at the Arsakid court, similar to sur-
viving descriptions of the Achaimenid court. In fact, contemporary information about Parthian
women is sparse, not only in Western tradition but also in indigenous sources like the Avrōmān
parchments3 and cuneiform tablets. In addition, women are almost totally absent from official
Parthian art. This cannot be explained by a lack of source material alone; rather, it is a result of
the Arsakid concept of the male ruler. The Arsakid king of kings, his power, and his magnifi-
cence were all-​important, whereas female aspects of royalty were subordinate.
For long periods of Parthian history, especially in the third and second centuries BCE and
again the second and early third century CE, we know of (almost) no royal women to speak
of. Most of the sources confine themselves to a bare naming of a royal woman without any
further detail. Chinese sources as well as later Arabic and Persian historiography totally neglect
Arsakid “queens.”4 The description by the Jewish historian Josephus of Mousa, whose hus-
band king Phraates IV (38–​32 BCE) allegedly did everything she demanded (AJ 18.39–​43), is
a welcome exception, although the historical worth of the source is debatable. The absence of
evidence has consequences for historical interpretations. In 1983, Heleen Sancisi-​Weerdenburg
demonstrated how much Western views on Achaimenid women are distorted by classical
sources.5 Nevertheless, precisely these Western sources continue to provide the basis for histor-
ical reconstructions. The same holds true for the Arsakid dynasty. As it was difficult for Roman
authors to provide their readers with authentic information about the only people daring to
challenge Rome’s supremacy, they often simply repeated or expanded on well-​known Greek
topoi focusing on Arsakid kings’ excessive sexual appetites (e.g. Just. 41.3.1; Plut. Crass. 21.7) and

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on intrigues at the royal court. These literary tropes were closely connected with the supposed
traditional political instability and decadence of Eastern kingdoms in general.6 Because of the
difficulties within the sources, our main concern relates to the question of whether we may
draw conclusions about the roles of Arsakid royal women beyond the literary discourse. This
chapter first gives an overview of the female hierarchies at court and then tries to trace the pol-
itical influence of royal women in internal affairs and within Arsakid bilateral marriage policy.
Due to the bias of Western material, we will mainly concentrate on indigenous material and
documentary sources.
First, we need to discuss terminology. We use the term “queen” only when a woman at
court received the official title of a “queen” (e.g. when the Greek title basilissa or the Akkadian
GAŠAN/​šarratu are attested in the sources); all other women at court will be called “royal
women.” Similar to Seleukid practice, these royal women were part of an officially promoted
image of a nuclear royal family consisting of king/​husband, “queen,” i.e. the principal wife, and
the male heir to the throne.7 In contract to Seleukid times, this nuclear family at the Arsakid
royal court was often enlarged by the inclusion of the mother of the king and additional wives
with or without the official title “queen,” sometimes identical with (half-​)sisters of the king.
Following a definition suggested by Alex McAuley for the Seleukid court,8 we also refer to
“secondary women” (considered “secondary,” because they were not part of the path of “pri-
mary” succession), as a term for daughters of the Arsakid kings married into other dynasties
who had important roles to play at their nuptial courts.
Besides references to “queens,” Western authors often refer to the allegedly large number
of “concubines” who lived in a secluded area of the palace (“harem”). According to Lucan’s
tendentious report, the Arsakid king had more than 1,000 women (8.397–​401; 8.410–​411). In
Western sources,9 eunuchs and concubines in the Parthian “harem” are frequently described
as part of a narrative of an exotic Oriental life at court, characterized by luxury and abun-
dance, by the lustfulness and the cruelty of the king, by intrigues and patricide.10 According to
Justin (41.3.2), women were not allowed to take part in the men’s banquets, though archaeo-
logical evidence indicates that women entertained the king with singing and dancing during
his banquets.11 So far, there is neither archaeological evidence for a separate women’s quarter in
Parthian palaces, nor reliable documents for the large numbers of these extramarital relationships
of the kings. Therefore the term “harem” has to be used with the utmost caution or avoided
entirely, because it smacks of Orientalism.What might have been true for the later Ottoman era
need not necessarily also be true for the Arsakid court.

Titles and ranks of Arsakid royal women and hierarchies at court

Indigenous sources from the Parthian empire shed some light on the multiple titles for women
at the court.12 Especially the parchments from Avrōmān and some cuneiform tablets testify
to a differentiation between the principal wife of the king, his mother, and other legitimate
wives beside the principal wife. The obvious importance of the royal family as a group differs
from Achaimenid times, when royal ideology stressed the sole power of the king. It could also
explain why female members of the royal family were offered as hostages in diplomatic relations
(although they were never used as wives by their captors).
Even though we know that wives, daughters, and the mother of the ruling king of kings had
a crucial importance at court, a clear hierarchy of court women cannot be discerned today.13 It
is remarkable, moreover, that no indigenous Parthian word for “queen” is attested (yet), only for-
eign terms in Greek or Babylonian language. The earliest reference for the Parthian title comes
from the trilingual inscription of Sassanid king Shapur I (240–​272 CE) at Naqš-​i Rustam near

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Irene Madreiter and Udo Hartmann

Persepolis (ŠKZ), where the Middle Persian title M L K TA (bāmbišn), “queen,” is equated with
the Parthian title MLKTE and Greek title basilissa (βασίλισσα).14
According to Zoroastrian law, the king could marry several women.15 Usually, all of them held
the Greek title “basilissa” (“queen”).This title is known from Greek parchments, Parthian coins,
and Western sources.16 Thus, it can be found in the date formulas of the two Greek Avrōmān
parchments, in which several names of royal women are mentioned. The first document from
Avrōmān in Kurdistan written in November 88 BCE names, after king Mithradates II (124/​
23–​88/​87 BCE), “the “queens” (basilissai), Siake, his “sister from the same father” (homopatria)
and wife, Aryazate surnamed Automa, daughter of the Great King Tigranes and his wife, and
Azate, his “sister from the same father and wife” (Avrōmān I, ll. 2–​5).17 This document already
illustrates some of the intentions behind the different marriage connections: Mithradates, like
many Arsakids, cultivated the particularly prestigious Zoroastrian consanguineous marriage
(Middle Persian: xvēdōdah).18 On the one hand, incestuous and close-​kin marriages were
considered as particularly pure and sacred. King Mithradates married his half-​sisters Siake and
Azate. On the other hand, the marriage with the Armenian princess Automa, who received
the Parthian name Aryazate, was a dynastic connection with foreign policy objectives. Around
95–​88 BCE Mithradates II married the daughter of Tigranes II of Armenia to strengthen the
alliance with this neighboring kingdom. The second Greek Avrōmān parchment from 22/​
21 BCE, in the date formula, mentions several females after the king Phraates IV, namely
the “queens” Olennieire, Kleopatra, Baseirta, and Bistheibanaps (Avrōmān II, l. 2).19 Since
Kleopatra is a Greek name, she was presumably a Hellenistic princess. Therefore, it is likely
that this king also had wives with different origins to serve political and sacred aims. Another
example of close-​kin marriage in the Arsakid house can be found in the date formulas of seven
more cuneiform texts. According to those texts, Orodes I (81/​80–​76/​75 BCE) was married
to his sister Ispubarzā.20
The title “queen” is also attested in Babylonian cuneiform documents.21 For instance,
Asi’abaṭar who was the wife of the king Gotarzes I (91/​ 90–​
81/​80 BCE), was especially
mentioned in several cuneiform texts from 90, 89, 88, 87 and 87/​86 BCE.22 Those cunei-
form texts used the term GAŠAN, which is a Sumerogram (a group of Sumerian cuneiform
characters as an ideogram in the Akkadian text) and meant “princess” or “lady” originally. In this
context, this ideogram is equal to the Akkadian word šarratu (“queen”).23
Besides the fact that women married to the king were considered as “queens,” the queen
mother also held an apparently important position. For instance, a cuneiform document written
in Uruk in August 132 BCE mentions “Arsakes and Rī […]-​nu, his mother both kings”
(LUGALMEŠ).24 This refers to king Phraates II (139/​138–​128 BCE) and his mother, who for-
merly was a wife of Mithradates I (171–​139/​138 BCE). Rī […]-​nu was probably not a regent
for a minor king,25 but her inclusion into the male (!) title LUGAL may indicate an honorary
mention for a dowager queen. Furthermore, one can assume that at the court of Phraates III
(71/​70–​58/​57 BCE) were at least three women, namely […]-​Ištar who was the “mother of
the king and GAŠAN (“queen”),”26 Piriwuštanā his “(legitimate) wife (DA M) and G A ŠA N
(“queen”),27 and a Hellenistic princess named Teleonike. Because of the fragmentary condition
of the text it is uncertain whether the last held a title too.28
A woman with the title “queen of the queens” (Middle Persian: bāmbišnān bāmbišn), as it was
referred to at the later court of the Sassanids,29 is not testified for the Arsakids. Nevertheless,
there must have been a formal hierarchy of the ladies at the court, which consisted of the
mother of the king, the wives of the king with the title “queens” and the legitimate wives of the
king without a title; the “queen” and sister-​wife in sibling marriage had perhaps in this ranking
a greater dignity than other Parthian or “foreign” Hellenistic wives. The role of women in the

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court hierarchy was probably determined both by the importance of her family (Arsakid family,
Parthian nobility, or Hellenistic origins) and by their personality and success in the court com-
petition. Because only one woman is mentioned in the date formula of the Parthian documents,
it is likely that this woman was the principal queen and wife at the court, although a title “prin-
cipal queen” is not attested. This prominent position could be occupied by a legitimate wife, a
(half-​)sister, or the mother of the king. Depending on the actual personal influence of a woman
on the king, there was certainly an informal, fluid hierarchy of the court ladies and wives of the
“harem.”
Besides the above-​described women at the court (see pp. 234–235), Western sources often
refer to a “harem” with an allegedly large number of concubines, among them many Parthian
slaves, but also Greek hetairai from Ionia (Plut. Crass. 32.6). Even though these concubines were
mainly used to entertain the king, they had the chance to exercise de facto political influence at
the court if they reached the position of a favorite of the king. However, neither the primary
documentary nor the secondary sources inform us about details concerning the way of life of
the women.Their everyday lives and their education remain almost completely unknown.What
is known is that royal women and the women of the “harem” probably accompanied the king
on his travels through the kingdom (Isidoros of Charax, FGrH 781 F 2.1; Tac. Ann. 6.43.1; cf.
Cass. Dio 63.2.3). For instance, the Parthian noble Surenas was allegedly accompanied on his
travels by 200 wagons full of concubines, but this report by Plutarch may just be a topos about
an Eastern nobleman (Crass. 21.7).30

Political influence of Arsakid royal women

As was shown in the previous section, not only the principal wife of the king had a prominent
position at court but also the king’s mother. This tradition is well documented in Achaimenid
times and in the former Assyrian empire, but also a known element in Seleukid dynastic
ideology.31 We can be certain about the informal influence of these women, but what about
their formal influence? Official political influence is very rarely testified in the Parthian period.
There is also no secure evidence of a guardianship of a “queen” over a minor Parthian king.
A certain form of actual co-​rulership can only be assumed for Mousa, who was mother and
wife of Phraates V Phraatakes (2 BCE–​4 CE). In the date formulas of the parchments and
cuneiform texts from the Parthian Empire published so far, women at court are exclusively
mentioned in the period of 141 to 22/​21 BCE. However, being mentioned is not necessarily a
reason to assume that they actually had political influence.32 Moreover, being mentioned in the
date formula was, in this period, by no means obligatory, but rather an exception. Since the rela-
tion between being mentioned and having political influence is not straightforward, there is no
reason to infer from one to the other.Therefore, the omission of women from the date formulas
from the first century CE onwards cannot be taken as a reason to accept Wolski’s claim that they
had less political influence.33 Even though royal women and concubines used their position at
the court for the benefit of their children and influenced the king, this political influence was
only behind the scenes.
For any claimant to the throne (at least patrilineal) consanguinity to the royal Arsakid clan
was a prerequisite for legitimacy (e.g. Strab. 16.1.28; Amm. Marc. 23.6.6). As there was no
strict rule that the oldest prince would inherit the throne after his father’s death, even children
from concubines could gain kingship. Therefore, there was a competition among all wives and
concubines at the court for the position of mother of the heir (Just. 42.4.15–​16). Besides the
famous example of Mousa, Tacitus (Ann. 12.44.2) refers to a certain “Greek concubine” (paelex
Graeca) of Vonones II who was the mother of king Vologeses I (51–​76/​80 CE).

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In contrast to Achaimenid practice, principal wives could also be of foreign descent from
non-​Iranian dynasties.34 At least three examples will be mentioned here. The earliest one goes
back to the late second century BCE, when Phraates II married Laodike, daughter of Demetrius
II Nikator and Kleopatra Thea (Porphyrios FGrH 260 F 32.20; anonymous in Just. 38.10.10).35
The Arsakid king had captured her in the entourage of Antiochos VII Sidetes in 129 BCE.
The frequency of the name Laodike at the Seleukid court36 makes it hard to discern, if she is
identical with a certain “queen/​lady Laodike” mentioned in a fragmentary cuneiform tablet
from 140 BCE, the wife of a certain Antiochos, probably Antiochos VI Epiphanes, rival king to
Demetrios II.37 In this case, the union did not originate from a bilateral agreement, but was the
result of the imposition of the Arsakids’ will. The intermarriage was the groundwork for future
relations and also a sign of growing Parthian strength in the era of declining Seleukid power in
the ancient Near East.
Sometime in the mid-​first century BCE, Orodes II (58/​57–​38 BCE) married another
Laodike, daughter of Antiochos I Theos of Kommagene. According to a memorial inscription
from Karakuş in Kommagene set by her brother Mithridates II (king of Kommagene 36–​30
BCE), Laodike bore the title “queen” (SEG 33.1215, Kb. 3–​5): “queen Laodike, sister of the
king [Mithradates II] and wife of Orodes, king of kings” (βασίλισσης | Λαοδίκης, βασιλέ[ως
ἀ]δελφῆς καὶ βασιλέως | βασιλέων ᾿Ορώδ[ου γυν]αικός).38 That Laodike’s sons were murdered
by Phraates IV in 38 BCE is evidence for the repeated amphimetric strife39 between potential
heirs—​often sons from different mothers to the throne—​but also for the endangered position
of royal women. Cassius Dio (49.23.3–​4; cf. also Just. 42.5.1) explains that her sons were killed
because they had a higher position at court through their virtue and their maternal lineage than
Phraates. In fact, their murder could have easily been justified because of their lesser descent as
being only half Arsakids.
Phraates himself continued a tradition of exogamy, when he chose a certain Kleopatra as
one of his four wives and “queens” (Avrōmān II, l. 2/​B), probably stemming from a Hellenistic
dynasty. Unfortunately, we do not know if they had children at all or what status their children
might have had. Royal women from non-​Iranian dynasties provided for legitimate offspring,
but in times of throne disputes, lack of “pure” Arsakid bloodline was an easy excuse to exclude
their children from the throne.
An example of more direct political influence by a “secondary woman” at her nuptial court
is recorded by Josephus (AJ 18.353–​66).40 Probably referring to a folk tale, he asserts that
Artabanos II married his daughter to one of his relatives named Mithradates, a certain Parthian
noble from Babylonia, who was probably at least a landlord or local satrap.This Mithradates was
captured by a Jewish Babylonian rebel around 35 CE and later released by him when the rebel
recognized the high position of his captive. After returning home, his wife forced Mithradates
to take revenge on the Jews. As he hesitated, the Arsakid princess threatened him with divorce.
Besides the long-​known topos of the weak “Oriental” who acts only when his wife compels
him, the story illustrates the potential female influence at a local or vassal court. It indicates that
members of the Arsakid clan could (and sometimes did) intervene in the political affairs of their
nuptial houses.

Mousa: an example of political influence?

In the sources, only one royal woman with an official position of power is testified. This was
“queen” Mousa who was first the principal wife of king Phraates IV and then mother and
wife of king Phraates V Phraatakes. She held, for the Parthian empire, an unusual position.41 As
Josephus reports (AJ 18.39–​43), Augustus had given king Phraates IV a beautiful Italian slave

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girl named Mousa as a gift, apparently in the context of the return of the Roman standards
by the Parthian king in 20 BCE.42 At first, she was one of the concubines in the “harem” of
the king, but the beautiful slave quickly won his heart. After the birth of her son Phraatakes,
the king raised her to his favorite, although he already had several legitimate wives and sons.
From that point on, Mousa had a significant influence on the king and was able to displace
the other “queens,” presumably the above-​mentioned Olennieire (p. 236), Kleopatra, Baseirta,
and Bistheibanaps. She also tried to make her son heir to the throne and persuaded Phraates to
send his other legitimate sons to Rome as hostages in 10/​9 BCE.43 Thus, Mousa had not only
strengthened her position at court, but had also cleared the way to the Parthian throne for her
son Phraatakes. Josephus reports, that Phraatakes, together with his mother, then murdered king
Phraates and, moreover, had a sexual relationship with her. Josephus adds, with outrage, that the
Parthians hated him for incest and patricide, which is why he was quickly overthrown.
However, Josephus’ description of the assumption of power in the year 2 BCE and the short
reign of Phraatakes is problematic. It is unclear whether the report that Mousa and her son
murdered the old king of kings in a “harem’s intrigue” is correct. On the other hand, Josephus’
report of the marriage according to Zoroastrian law presumably corresponds to the facts. From
the year 1/​2 CE on, coins were minted with the portrait of Phraates V Phraatakes on one side
and his mother on the other side (see Figure 20.1). Presumably that was the time when son
and mother got married. The Greek legend on the reverse of tetradrachms from Seleukeia on
the Tigris and drachms from Ecbatana and Rhagae qualify her as “Thea Ourania Mousa basilissa”
(goddess Urania44 Mousa queen). Mousa not only received the title of “queen,” but is also
provided with divine attributes, for which there is no parallel in Parthian history. The coins
show Mousa wearing a three-​tiered tiara richly decorated with pearls and a diadem with long
ribbons falling on her back.45
Such a joint coinage of king and royal woman is very unique for the Parthian Empire: Mousa
is even the only Parthian “queen” to be shown on coins. Normally, “queens” did not play any

Figure 20.1 Silver coin of Phraates V Phraatakes and Mousa (drachm from Ekbatana; Sellwood
1971: 177, no. 58.6); on the obverse the diademed bust of the king with two flying Nikai left and right
crowning him; on the reverse the bust of the queen wearing a tiara and a beaded necklet, the Greek
inscription: ΘΕΑΣ ΟΥΡΑΝΙ[ΑΣ] –​[Μ]ΟΥΣΗΣ ΒΑΣ[ΙΛΙΣΣΕΣ] and a monogram
Source: © Classical Numismatic Group

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role in the Parthian representation of power, as demonstrated by few rock reliefs of the Arsakid
kings.46 Their non-​appearance cannot be explained by a lack of source material. Rather, it is
a result of the Arsakid idea of the male ruler. He, his power, and his magnificence were all-​
important, whereas female aspects of royalty were subordinate and almost invisible.
This unusual coinage demonstrates that Mousa possessed the influential position of a
queen mother and principal wife at the court of the very young king.47 She had probably also
participated in the government of the realm, even if we cannot speak of a “joint government.”
Thus, it was not so much the rumors of incest and patricide or even the socially inferior, foreign
background of Mousa, but rather her strong position at the court and the failures in foreign
policy of the new king that led to a conspiracy of the Parthian nobility and to the expulsion of
king Phraatakes in 4 CE.48 Phraatakes probably fled to the Roman Empire (Augustus, res gestae
32). The fate of Mousa remains uncertain.

Arsakid marriage policy

Despite the sparse extant sources, it is evident that the Arsakids adopted strategies for the
survival of the dynasty similar to those of the Seleukids. This is especially clear in the case
of Arsakid marriage policy.49 Dąbrowa has studied these relationships extensively,50 so a few
words will suffice here. Arsakid princesses and their counterparts from Hellenistic kingdoms
played an important role in the relations between Parthia and its neighboring kingdoms in
the second and first centuries BCE. Arsakid kings married princesses from other dynasties and
gave their own daughters in marriage to neighboring or vassal kings (e.g. Seleukids, Artaxiads
of Armenia, or rulers of Kommagene). The intended aims of this marriage policy were mani-
fold: to form and strengthen alliances, to increase influence at the foreign court, to strengthen
a vassal, make peace with former enemies, or obtain their support in defense against common
threats.51 Especially the Hellenistic princesses enhanced the influence of Greek culture at the
Arsakid court.52 Arsakid “secondary women,” married into foreign courts, on the other hand,
served to realize short and long-​term objectives of Arsakid policy, but also as steady reminders
of Arsakid suzerainty over their vassals.53 In analogy to Seleukid times, they probably also
played an active role at their nuptial courts, as was indicated in the tale about Mithridates and
the Arsakid princess (see p. 238).
During the 200 years after Augustus, when the Roman emperors became the major
opponents of Parthia at their western border, dynastic marriages played no role in their bilat-
eral relationships. The Arsakids were regarded as equal opponents, but at the same time as an
inferior, “barbaric” people of the East. No Roman emperor ever gave his daughter in marriage
to an Arsakid king. The Arsakids also felt no desire to marry their daughters to an emperor, as
the example of Caracalla’s failed wedding plan shows. According to Cassius Dio (78.1.1, cf.
also Herodian. 4.10–​11),54 the Roman emperor asked king Artabanos IV (213–​224 CE) for his
daughter’s hand. Herodian adds as Caracalla’s motive that he intended to unite the two empires.
The Arsakid refused by arguing that such a “barbarian” wedding would not befit a Roman
emperor and that the two cultures were too different to be united (Herodian. 4.10.2). In fact,
the description of Cassius Dio is more realistic, when he interprets the failed marriage as a
Roman pretext to invade Parthia.
With the Roman Empire another special kind of diplomatic relationship emerged. A few
instances indicate that not only princes but also Arsakid royal women played an important role
as Roman hostages. In general, Arsakid–​Roman hostage submission was not reciprocal: the
Parthians never demanded Roman hostages. Hostage policy held a different significance than
diplomatic marriages: whereas marriages were instruments to impose imperial order, hostages

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furthered the interests of their former captors. As married women they could intervene in the
affairs of their nuptial houses,55 whereas their role as female hostages was more passive. Arsakid
royal women—​as well as their captured husbands or children—​often became tools of disruption
in their homeland, used by the Roman side to influence Arsakid internal affairs.
Without a request from Augustus, Phraates IV handed over his four sons together with two
of their wives and some of their children to Marcus Titius, governor of Roman Syria in 10/​9
BCE.56 These members of the Arsakid clan were brought to Rome, where they lived as guests of
Augustus. Phraates intended to preserve his friendship with Rome and avoid Roman aggression
or even a potential invasion at the western border of his empire. At the same time, he secured
his own position as king by depriving his political enemies in Parthia of a suitable Arsakid rival
who might supplant him. Whether he also responded to demands of his wife Mousa, who
wanted her son Phraatakes to be the next king and to get rid of the (older) sons of her rivals,
is debatable but not impossible. The royal Arsakid women were part of Augustan political sta-
ging, a means to proclaim Rome’s supremacy over the Parthian empire in absence of a military
success. Suetonius (Aug. 43.3–​4) records that the hostages were publicly exhibited at one of the
emperor’s many spectacles, when he led them through the middle of the arena and then seated
them prominently above him, in the second row. Probably clad in Parthian costume, the women
served as living proof of “Oriental” exoticism otherwise only known from Roman art or coins.
The Roman sources also record an example of forced hostageship of a royal woman. Around
116 CE, emperor Trajan took the daughter of king Osroes (108/​09–​127/​28 CE) as a prisoner
on his Parthian campaign. She was not returned until 129 CE by emperor Hadrian, during
the peace negotiations between Rome and Parthia (SHA Hadr. 13.8).57 Again, a royal woman
served as a visible sign of Roman power and of success on a faraway battlefield. The probable
exhibition of such prisoners in Rome enhanced the prestige of the emperors who captured
them and strengthened their domestic position. In all, these examples show that royal women,
as part of the Arsakid royal household, served both Roman political propaganda and internal
Parthian politics.

Conclusion
Reconstructing the political roles and social status of Arsakid royal women is possible only in
broad outline. Many facets of their daily lives at court, of their education, of their possibilities
to actively engage in economic enterprises (as evident in Achaimenid Persian sources) remain
obscure. Nevertheless, some facts can be deduced from the ancient sources with some cer-
tainty: the mother of the king, his other legitimate wives, his daughters, and sisters (some from
the Arsakid but also from neighboring dynasties) lived at the court. That they all could bear
the title “queen” (basilissa) does not prove that a clear hierarchy existed. Based on Zoroastrian
law, polygamy and close-​kin marriage are well attested. Beside the royal women, concubines
were also present at the court. Western sources exaggerated their actual number because the
“Oriental harem” was part of the cliché about Eastern monarchies. Nevertheless, concubines
could (at least in exceptional cases) be a political factor in Parthian history: the example of
Mousa demonstrates that even women of low origin could become principal wives, and that
their sons could be elevated to the throne by the king. In general, the actual political influ-
ence of royal women was exceptional; the real prominence of “queens” as ruling figures rather
minimal.
The dynastic importance of the principal wife and of the mother of the king is evident by
their inclusion into the dating formulas of some cuneiform texts and the Avrōmān parchments.
Their inclusion might reflect the ideological importance of the royal family as a group, but

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their appearance in the texts is perhaps largely to draw attention to the legitimacy and power
of the kings, because no further details about these women are given. In contrast to Seleukid
queens, their public role seems noticeably more restricted. As we lack indigenous sources for
later centuries, it remains open if the prominence of the principal wife and the mother of the
king declined in these periods.
In any case, female members of the Arsakid court played an important role in bilateral
relations with vassal kingdoms, and sometimes in diplomatic relations between Parthia and
Rome, on occasions when Arsakid royal women were submitted as hostages. In contrast to
relations with the Seleukid kingdom, Arsakids never gave their daughters in marriage to the
Romans, as Rome showed no interest in exogamy. Networks resulting from marriage diplo-
macy were a stabilizing factor in Parthian history.
Analysis has proven once more that there are clear lines of tradition between the Achaimenid,
Arsakid, and Sassanid dynasties in terms of the polygamy of the monarchs, close-​kin marriage,
and concubinage. Despite the sparse and often problematic indigenous source material, a
privileged position of royal women seems to be clear, and the role of the royal family as such
seems more important than in former Achaimenid times. This can be seen as a Seleukid legacy.
The issue of royal Arsakid women once more proves that Iranian cultures were not monolithic
entities, as sometimes suggested, but were open to diverse cultural influences.

Notes
1 For overviews of Arsakid political and social history, see Wiesehöfer 1996: 115–​49; Brosius 2006,
79–​138; Dąbrowa 2012; Gregoratti 2017: 125–​53.
2 The Achaimenid legacy has been extensively studied: see Shayegan 2011: 39–​331; see also Wolski
1966: 65–​89; Sonnabend 1986: 280–​8; Spawforth 1996: 233–​47; Makhlaiuk 2015, esp. 315–​17.
3 Minns 1915.
4 The Chinese dynastic history Hanshu (96A, 3889–​90) from the first century CE only mentions that
the silver coins in the realm of Anxi (i.e. Parthia) show the image of the king’s face on the obverse and
the image of a woman on the reverse (Hulsewé 1979: 116). These may be the silver coins of Phraates
V Phraatakes and “queen” Mousa (see ­figure 20.1); Posch 1998: 361 n. 49.
5 Sancisi-​Weerdenburg 1993: 20–​33; see also Safaee 2016/​17; for literary tropes about Achaimenid
Persia in Ktesias of Knidos, see Madreiter 2012.
6 Lerouge 2007.
7 Carney 2011: 205; McAuley 2011: 18–​36; 2017: 190.
8 McAuley 2017b.
9 E.g. Plut. Crass. 32.5; Lucian. Icar. 15; Philost. V. Apoll. 1.33; 1.37. Huber and Hartmann 2006: 497–​9,
506–​8; Lerouge 2007: 339–​49. For these topoi, see Madreiter 2012.
10 Lerouge 2007: 262–​4.
11 For the archaeological evidence of the court life of the Arsakids see Kaim 2016.
12 Huber and Hartmann 2006; Bigwood 2008; Huijs 2014. See also Wolski 1954: 64–​72; Wiesehöfer
2000: 712–​13; Shahbazi 2003: 1; Jacobs 2010: 82–​4.
13 Bigwood 2008 points to the connection existing between their titles and their status.
14 E.g. Xōrānzēm, the “queen of the realm” (šahr bāmbišn) of Shapur I: ŠKZ § 36, Middle Persian l. 25,
Parthian l. 20 (hštr MLKTE), Greek ll. 46–​47. Bigwood 2008: 253–​4.
15 Lerouge 2007: 339–​45.
16 Huber and Hartmann 2006: 486–​94; Bigwood 2008: 237–​59.
17 Minns 1915: 28. According to Huijs (2014: 619–​21) the king in Avrōmān I is Gotarzes I, according to
Bigwood 2008: 244–​5, 267 another son of king Mithradates and a rival of Gotarzes.
18 Boyce 1979: 97; Lerouge 2007: 340–​5.
19 Minns 1915: 30
20 Del Monte 1997: 178, 181, 255.
21 Huber and Hartmann 2006: 488–​90; Bigwood 2008: 237–​44; Huijs 2014: 607–​18.

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22 Del Monte 1997: 251–​4.

23 Huber and Hartmann 2006: 492; Bigwood 2008: 250–​ 3; but see Del Monte 1997: 41; Huijs
2014: 617–​18.
24 Babylonian Records in the Library of J. Pierpont Morgan II no. 53, rev. 28. Del Monte 1997: 245–​6.
25 Bigwood 2008: 240. According to Huijs 2014: 610–​13 she was “co-​ruler with Phraates II, because he
was still too young to rule” (612).
26 Astronomical Diaries V No. 30, av. 2–​3 (66 BCE).
27 She is attested in the dating formulae of 69/​68 and 68/​67 BCE; Del Monte 1997: 256.
28 Astronomical Diaries III No.-​62, av. 1 (62 BCE); Del Monte 1997: 257.
29 Cf. Ādur-​Anāhīd, the “queen of the queens” and daughter of Shapur I: ŠKZ § 33, Middle Persian l. 23,
Parthian l. 18, Greek ll. 39–​40; § 36, Middle Persian l. 25, Parthian l. 20, Greek l. 47.
30 For the image of the Parthians in Plutarchus see Hartmann 2008.
31 For Assyrian and Achaimenid analogies, see Kuhrt 1995: 528. Brosius 1996: 21–​4, 186–​7 suggests that
the mother of the king had the highest position among royal women. For the centrality of motherhood
in Seleukid ideology, see McAuley 2017a.
32 Huijs (2014: 636) interprets the appearance of Parthian “queens” in the dating formulas as evidence for
a “recognized and potentially influential position” of these women at court.
33 Wolski 1954: 66.
34 According to the attested personal names there were also royal women of Sogdian or Babylonian des-
cent, i.e. from within the Parthian empire, see Bigwood 2008: 264–​6.
35 Debevoise 1938: 34–​35; Grainger 1997: 48–​9; Huber and Hartmann 2006: 500.
36 The Seleukid genealogy of McAuley 2011 lists 16 Laodikes. On the function of names like Laodike as
quasi-​titles see McAuley 2018.
37 Astronomical Diaries III No.-​ 140 (July/​ Aug. 140 BCE): [lA]n-​ti-​ʾu-​uk-​su fLu-​di-​qé-​e GAŠAN […],
“Antiochos, Laodike, the queen.” Debevoise 1938: 22 n. 99, 24 n. 105; Del Monte 1997: 103.
38 Wagner 1983: 209, fig. 8 and tab. 52.3–​4; Huber and Hartmann 2006: 502.
39 For the Seleukid dynasties see Ogden 1999: 117–​70.
40 Rajak 1998: 314–​17; Fowler 2017: 372–​3.
41 Bigwood 2004; Huber and Hartmann 2006: 492–​5; Strugnell 2008; Roller 2018: 123–​7; see also
Karras-​Klapproth 1988: 95–​6; Gregoratti 2012: 184–​6; Olbrycht 2018: 389–​90. For the image of
Mousa in Josephus, see Fowler 2017: 371–​2.
42 Strugnell 2008: 283; Huijs 2014: 621; in 23 BCE according to Bigwood 2004: 39–​40; Olbrycht
2018: 389.
43 See p. 241.
44 The goddess Urania probably corresponds to the Persian goddess Anāhitā.
45 Sellwood 1971: 176–​8, no. 58.1–​10; Bigwood 2004: 47–​56; Strugnell 2008: 286–​7.
46 For the Parthian rock reliefs see Kawami 1987.
47 Cf. Wolski 1993: 149; Strugnell 2008: 286–​7, 292–​5; Gregoratti 2012: 185. Bigwood 2004: 43–​7,
56–​62 argues against the historicity of the marriage of Phraatakes and Mousa. According to her, there
is no evidence for Mousa’s supposed political role as regent or co-​ruler.
48 Hauser 2005: 189–​90.
49 Huber and Hartmann 2006: 499–​505; Bigwood 2008: 259–​65; Dąbrowa 2018: 73–​83.
50 Dąbrowa 2018.
51 Dąbrowa 2018: 81.
52 Alliances with the Hellenistic courts: Wiesehöfer 2000: 712–​13.
53 These marriages are mostly in the context of actions undertaken to protect the boundaries of the vast
empire: Huber and Hartmann 2006: 502–​3; Dąbrowa 2018: 82.
54 Herodian enlarges the facts given by Cassius Dio into a romantic tale without any additional historical
worth; Huber and Hartmann 2006: 503–​4.
55 For analogies in Seleukid marriage policy see McAuley 2017b.
56 Strab. 6.4.2; 16.1.28;Vell. Pat. 2.94.4; Joseph. AJ 18.42; Suet. Aug. 21.3; Just. 42.5.12; see also Augustus,
res gestae 32; Tac. Ann. 2.1.2; 6.31.2; Cass. Dio 58.26.2; CIL VI 1799. Ziegler 1964: 51–​2; Sonnabend
1986: 221–​2, 258; Dąbrowa 1987: 63–​71; Lerouge 2007, 110–​13; Strothmann 2012; Nabel 2017, 27–​8,
34–​7; Olbrycht 2018.
57 Debevoise 1938: 233, 242; Birley 1997: 220; Huber and Hartmann 2006: 505. Doležal 2017: 121–​3
suspects that the daughter of king Osroes was allowed to return shortly after 117.

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Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

ŠKZ trilingual inscription of Šābuhr I at the Ka‛ba-​i Zardušt in Naqš-​iRustam, near Persepolis (Res
Gestae Divi Saporis)

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Conference of the Societas Iranologica Europæa, vol. 1. Milan, 485–​517.
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21
WOMEN OF THE SASSANID
DYNASTY (224–​6 51 CE) 1
Josef Wiesehöfer

Introduction
In the history of ancient Iran, we come across outstanding women who sometimes
reached the highest positions in the country. For example, in the Sasanian era, two
queens, Pourandokht and Azarmidokht, ruled in their own right. […] We must not of
course conclude from this evidence that women were the equals of men in ancient
Iran, because society in those days did not feel this to be necessary.
(Pahlavi 1967: 93)

I came and knelt at the king’s feet, and when he put the crown on my head, I felt
that he had just honored all the women of Iran. […] this crown wiped out centuries
of humiliation; more surely than any law, it solemnly affirmed the equality of men
and women.
(Pahlavi 2004: 157)

Farah Pahlavi’s coronation as regent in October 1967, a position which, in the event of the
Shah’s death, empowered her to act in place of the Crown Prince until he came of age, was
meant, as the second quote demonstrates, to be obvious proof of the social modernizing efforts
of the Pahlavi dynasty. The person honored perceived it as such, not just as proof of love. Like
many of the Shah’s measures, however, this action also had an explicitly emphasized historical
dimension of depth: the assignment of socially and politically relevant roles to the modern
Iranian woman (and not least to the Shahbanu, the queen consort) was staged on the one
hand as a break with a centuries-​long phase of female humiliation, and on the other hand it
was related to the allegedly last crowned female heads in Iranian history, the Sassanid queens
Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt. Apart from the problem of what connects a contemporary regent
ideologically, factually, and de iure, to a ruler of late antiquity, the question remains as to the
relationship between the appointment and coronation of a female regent and female aspirations
toward emancipation at the national level; but this is not our topic. Instead, the following
problems will be the focus of this chapter: what do we know about the two Sassanid rulers and
about the female members of this dynasty in general? How are their position and status to be

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described—​in the light of the evidence that has to be analyzed critically—​and how relevant
were developments in the course of the history of the Sassanid Empire? Finally, how was it
possible that the less successful and short-​lived female rulers Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt could be
given such an afterlife in the twentieth century?2

The sources
To the female members of the Sassanid House applies what has already been stated for the ladies
of the Arsakid dynasty: “The small and often problematic source material permits the recon-
struction of the social and political position of women […] only in outlines.”3 More detailed
literary coverage of their respective positions and their actions and measures is extremely rare,
and where it exists, foreign or non-​contemporary traditions are often enough involved. This is
not surprising in a society in which for a long time—​apart from administrative contexts—​the
spoken word preceded the written one in importance, and in which a real indigenous literature
only exists for the late period. The secondary tradition of Greek, Latin, Arabic, New Persian,
Christian-​Syriac, Armenian, and Manichaean literature is under special suspicion because of
its view from outside or its retrospective or thematic orientation, of transmitting facts only
by passing them through the filter of one’s own intentions beforehand. In addition, the early
and late periods of the history of the Sassanians are clearly over-​represented in this tradition
compared to the periods of the fourth and fifth centuries, for which only a few detailed literary
testimonies are available.
The local primary material from the Sassanid period is correspondingly significant: the
inscriptions and reliefs of the kings of the third century, the coins, seals, gems, and precious
vessels of the entire period of the dynasty, and the legal tradition of late Sassanian times. This
material, too, has its pitfalls, for, apart from the legal books, it mostly owes its existence to male
royal or aristocratic desires to emphasize, secure, and represent their own position and social
and/​or political distinction. Even the royal measures and institutions affecting the women of the
dynasty, for example the rituals and the ceremonial of the court, aim, where they appear in the
primary tradition at all, at presenting (except in the cases of Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt) the social,
religious, military, and political authority of the ruler and his efforts to maintain peace and order
in the empire. Late Sassanian literature related to the court, such as the famous text “Xusrō ud
rēdag,”4 focuses above all on the physical qualities of women at court; however, we also get to
know learned women from Pahlavi literature.5
The situation is somewhat different with the legal sources from the late Sassanian period,
which not only provide information on the legal status of women, but also on forms of marriage
and on women’s power of disposal over property and inheritance.6 In this context, it has rightly
been stressed that a distinction must be made a) between the social and legal status of a woman,
and b) within the legal tradition, between orthodox regulations and reformist views in legal
matters.7 As for the women of the royal house and not least Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt, it remains
to be asked whether or not they were under the guardianship (Middle Persian sālārīh) of a
man while at court or during their accession to the throne. It should be noted here that poly-
gamy, which was otherwise rather rare in Iran, was the rule within the royal family (and in
aristocratic circles): it was regarded as proof of the wealth and dignity of a ruler. Endogamous
and exogamous connections both offered political and economic advantages, and political
marriage alliances beyond the borders of the empire or with non-​Zoroastrian families were
quite common in Sassanian Iran.

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The women of the early days of the dynasty

Of quite extraordinary importance for the reconstruction of the position of women at the early
Sassanid court are the so-​called “Res Gestae Divi Saporis,” which not only, as the name suggests,
represent a report of the deeds of the second Sassanian king Šābuhr I, but also describe him as a ruler
who, like his father Ardašīr I and his grandfather Pābag, has his own, now considerably extended,
court where members of the royal house, dignitaries, and officials are staying, and who is concerned
with the cultivation of the cult of the gods and the welfare and memory of the living and deceased
members of the dynasty.8 In this trilingual inscription a total of 16 women is listed, women who
are placed in relation to the rulers and partly even characterized by titles and hierarchical ranks.
Among these persons the daughter of Šābuhr, Ādur-​Anāhīd, occupies a special position: like
Ardašīr’s sister Dēnag (see below), she is the only one who bears the title “Queen of the Queens”
(Middle Persian bāmbišnān bāmbišn). She appears—​beside Šābuhr himself—​at the beginning of
the inscription (ŠKZ mpI 23/​paI 18/​grI 40), before the three most important sons of the
ruler (the crown prince Ohrmezd-​Ardašīr, Šābuhr, the king of Mēšān, and Narseh, the king of
Hindestān, Sagestān, and Tūrān up to the seashore).9 It is only for these five persons that Šābuhr
founds a fire temple for their souls and their posthumous fame. All other family members and
dignitaries at the courts of Pābag, Ardašīr, and Šābuhr are only given a daily sacrifice. It has
been assumed that Šābuhr and his daughter were married—​by a so-​called xwēdōdah marriage
among blood relatives10—​and that the crown prince was the fruit of this marriage, but there is
no proof of this.11
The first three kings were also born of women who probably had no outstanding pos-
ition: Dēnag, the mother (mād) of king Pābag (ŠKZ 28f./​23/​56), and Rōdag, the mother of
Ardašīr I (ŠKZ 29/​23/​56), are mentioned in ŠKZ without a title, and Murrōd, the mother of
Šābuhr I (ŠKZ 26/​21/​49), is only given the title of a “Lady” (Middle Persian bānūg). Apart from
Ādur-​Anāhīd, only Dēnag, the sister of Ardašīr I, has the title “Queen of Queens” (ŠKZ 29/​23/​
56). “Accordingly, the highest-​ranking title […] was not necessarily associated with the status
of a first-​rate wife. Decisive for her position in the genealogy and at court […] was rather the
social rank and not the family status.”12 It should be emphasized, however, that the title “Queen
of Queens” does not necessarily refer to the coronation of the First Lady of the empire, nor to
the fact that these women de iure had political power. It has been argued, from the fact that the
female figures on Ardašīr I’s investiture relief from Naqš-​i Raǧab look away, that in the early
Sassanid empire women were explicitly excluded from the coronation ceremony of the ruler.13
Xwar(r)ānzēm, called the “Queen of the Empire” (šahr bāmbišn), a title that can only be
found in ŠKZ and clearly stands out from the other titles “Queen” (bāmbišn), “Princess” (duxš/​
wisduxt) or “Lady” (bānūg), was apparently also of high social rank. Xwar(r)ānzēm was identical
with the wife of Ardašīr I, who had already died at the time of the setting of the inscription and
who had been awarded a special title by her husband at the beginning of his reign.14 Later, the
same king could have intended to give the more distinctive title bāmbišnān bāmbišn to his sister
Dēnag, the daughter of king Pābag. Moreover, Xwar(r)ānzēm had a daughter, Warāzduxt (see
below, p. 249), who is ranked 19th in the genealogy of ŠKZ.
I will list further female members of the three royal courts presented in ŠKZ in
alphabetical order:

Anōšag, the mother of the “Princess” (duxš) Rōdduxt, perhaps a wife of Ardašīr I (ŠKZ 26/​
21/​49f.)
the “Lady” (bānūg) Čašmag, perhaps another consort of Ardašīr or a member of the family of
the King of the Sacae, Narseh (ŠKZ 26/​21/​49)

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Dēnag (possibly identical with the “Queen” (bāmbišn) Dēnag, probably a daughter or wife
of Šābuhr I (ŠKZ 25/​20/​47), the “Queen” (bāmbišn) of Mēšān, the dastgerd of Šābuhr, a
woman who presumably (after the death of Šābuhr, the King of Mēšān?) became regent
in Mesene and was awarded an additional honorary title (dastgerd) by the “King of Kings”
(ŠKZ 30/​25/​60)
Dēnag, the “Mother” (mād) of king Pābag (ŠKZ 28f./​23/​56)
the “Lady” (bānūg) Murrōd, the wife of Ardašīr I and “Mother” (mād) of Šābuhr I (and his
possible brothers Pērōz and Narseh) (ŠKZ 26/​21/​49)
Narsehduxt, the “Lady (bānūg) of the Sacae” (ŠKZ mpI 26), probably a wife of the later
“King of Kings” Narseh
Ohrmezd(d)uxtag, probably the daughter of Narseh and granddaughter of Šābuhr I (ŠKZ
27/​22/​51f.)
Rōdag, the “Mother” (mād) of Ardašīr (ŠKZ 29/​23/​56)
the “Princess” (duxš) Rōdduxt, the daughter of Anōšag (see above, p. 248; ŠKZ 26/​21/​49f.)
Šābuhrduxtag, the daughter of Šābuhr, the King of Mēšān, and granddaughter of Šābuhr
I (ŠKZ 27/​21/​51)
Šābuhrduxtag, the “Queen” (bāmbišn) of the Sacae and wife of Narseh (ŠKZ 25/​20f./​48f.),
who probably also appears in the Manichaean text M3 as “Queen of the Sacae” and who,
according to this text, is embraced by Narseh at the audience of Mani with one arm (with
the other, Narseh embraces Kerdīr, the son of Ardawān)15
Šābuhrduxtag, the “Daughter” (duxtar) of Šābuhr, the king of Mēšān, and granddaughter of
Šābuhr I (ŠKZ 27/​21/​51)
the “Queen” (bāmbišn) Staxryād (ŠKZ 26/​21/​50), probably a wife of Šābuhr I with a special
relationship to the city of Staxr
Warāzduxt, the “Daughter” (duxt) of Xwar(r)ānzēm (SKZ 26/​21/​50)16

Members of the royal family of the early Sassanid period can also be found in the numis-
matic and archaeological sources. Wahrām II is the first Sassanian to be depicted on the obverse
of his coins together with his wife and crown prince. He appears in this way not only on
coins, but also on his reliefs from Naqš-​i Rustam and Sar Mašhad, where the king protects his
wife, unknown by name, from a symbolic lion attack. In a similar scene on a silver vessel from
Sarvegši in Georgia, this lady is marked above all by specific headgear (crown cap with diadem
and animal head cap) and a necklace consisting of thick round pearls and earrings. On the other
hand, the female persons on the reliefs of Barm-​i Dilak and Tang-​i Qandīl, who receive or
present a flower, are ultimately impossible to identify in terms of their position and individual
identity.17 On the relief of King Narseh from Naqš-​i Rustam, which probably refers to the
recovery of the xwarrah (“glory”), a divine mystical force or power, after the return of the family
members from Roman captivity after the Treaty of Nisibis (298), the ruler is probably depicted
together with his wife Šābuhrduxtag.18
We also find high-​ranking female members of the early Sassanid house in the secondary
tradition. The Manichaean Homilies mention a recently deceased sister of King Wahrām I in
connection with the meeting between Mani and the king in Bēlāpāṭ (Hom 46,26 Pedersen).
A Syriac manuscript of the British Library (Add. 12142, ff. 104a-​107b), the so-​called martyr
acts of Qandīdā from the sixth century CE (see also a reference in the so-​called chronicle
of Se‛ert (I, chapter IX Scher)), refers to the martyr and (probable) wife of Wahrām II with
the name Qandīdā.19 Ḥamza al-​Iṣfahānī (49,18 Gottwaldt) gives as mother of Hormezd I a
woman named Kurdzād. The queen (basilissa) Arsane is mentioned by John Malalas (308,6ff.)
in the context of the warlike conflicts between the Great King Narseh and the Roman Caesar

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Galerius. In the framework of the final battle the large entourage of the Persian king, including
his wives and children, had got into Roman hands. All authors who provide information
about this Sassanid catastrophe (Aurelius Victor, Eutropius, Festus, Jerome, Orosius, Pawstos
Buzandaci, Petrus Patricius, Jordanes, Theophanes, Cedrenus, and Zonaras) unanimously
report that numerous male and female members of the royal house—​along with many Persian
aristocrats and the treasury—​fell into the hands of the Romans. This capture of women and
children is also referred to in frieze A I 2 of the Galerius Arch from Thessaloniki, on the back
of the bronze medallion from Siscia, and probably also on the relief of Narseh from Naqš-​i
Rustam.20 The Manichaean Turfan text M3 also refers to the spatial proximity of ruler and
wife and thus to the non-​seclusion of the royal wives and children, which a term like “harem”
suggests.21

Women of the fourth and fifth centuries

From this time, with few sources available, only a few females stand out. Dēnag was the wife of
Yazdegerd II (439–​457) and mother of the royal sons Hormezd III (457–​459) and Pērōz (459–​
484) who went to war against each other. Possibly as a kind of regent, this woman, whose name
suggests that she was probably a member of the Sassanid clan, temporarily held the power in
Ctesiphon in her hands (Ṭabarī 2, 872, 19f. de Goeje). We may also have a diademed portrait of
her on a gem of amethyst, but it should be mentioned that this work of glyptic art is attributed
by many to Dēnag, the sister of Ardašīr I.22 The legend reads: dynky ZY MLKT’n mḥysty PWN
tny š’pstn (dēnag ī bāmbišnān bāmbišn mahist pad tan šabestān: “Dēnag, Queen of Queens, the first
in the inner sanctum (of the shah)”). The last part of the title may refer to the fact that the First
Lady of the court was also in charge of the eunuchs and the (female) staff. According to the
Babylonian Talmud (and the commentaries), the mother of Šābuhr II, Ifra Hormizd, had already
acted as a kind of regent for her underage son.23
An exceptionally finely crafted seal of sardonyx, on which the elaborate portrait of a queen
with many signs of her dignity can be seen, calls this prominent woman “Yazdān-​Friy-​Šābuhr,
“the most beloved (wife)” of Šābuhr III (383–​388).24 If we can trust Ṭabarī or his sources, then
Pērōzduxt, the daughter of Pērōz, along with other women, fell into enemy (Hephthalite)
hands, similar to the case of Narseh. She was only released after the Sassanid general Sūxrā had
started ransom negotiations with the Chaqan (Ṭabarī 2, 879, 16ff.). More successful than Pērōz
was, according to the same author, Xusrō II, who took his wives and children to a place secure
from his rival Wahrām Čōbīn (Ṭabarī 2, 994, 16). The fact that female members of the royal
family possessed their own functional, not merely decorative seals, is proof of their authority at
least in personal affairs. High-​ranking women, but also musicians and dancers (the latter prob-
ably in banquet contexts), are also depicted on silver vessels of that time, items which replaced
the reliefs (and inscriptions) as a medium of (royal) self-​portrayal.25

The women of the Late Sassanian Period

As already mentioned, at the very end of the history of the Sassanid dynasty, two female members
of the royal family, two daughters of Xusrō II Parwēz, the half-​sisters Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt,
were able to ascend the throne of Ērānsahr. A number of issues render analysis of their careers
difficult: problems associated with the accession of the two women to the throne; the question
of the extent of their political authority; the problematic source situation; and the associated dif-
ficult reconstruction of the events that led to the rise and fall of the two protagonists. Panaino’s
discussion of this web of problems is fundamental.26

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There is much to suggest that after the death of Kawād II Šīrōy (628), the assassination of
Ardašīr III (628–​629), the son of Kawād who was fostered by the xwān-​sālār (“Master of the
Royal Table”) Māh-​Ādur-​Gušnasp, and the fall and assassination of the non-​Sassanian murderer
and usurper Farroxān Šahrwarāz (629) after only 40 days of reign, Bōrān was placed on the
throne by high officers and noblemen. She was the eldest daughter of Xusrō II and full sister
(and wife?) of Šīrōy; both had been born of the alleged daughter of the Emperor Maurice,
Maria.27 Bōrān became ruler contrary to tradition, but remained on the throne for at least a
year and four months (629–​631).28 On a gold coin of the ruler the legends Bōrān xwarrah abzūd
(“Bōrān has increased the glory”) on the obverse and, according to P. Huyse, on the reverse
gēhān az xwarrah nēw kardar (“(Bōrān), who has made the world good through glory”) can be
found. The crown of the queen on the coins also shows striking peculiarities.29 If we are to
believe some of our sources, this energetic queen made an effort to secure peace, both internally
and externally. The reason for her death (murder or natural end) remains unclear.30
After an interregnum of one month, Bōrān’s half-​sister Āzarmīgduxt,31 a daughter of Xusrō
II and the Christian Šīrīn,32 came to the throne. In a part of the Arabic tradition, she is said to
have possessed special beauty and intelligence. After a short time (six months), she was arrested,
blinded, and killed by Rustam, the son of the spāhbed of Xorāsān, Farrox-​Ohrmezd. Allegedly,
the queen had not only rejected Farrox-​Ohrmezd’s marriage request, but even had the appli-
cant killed. This act certainly reflects Āzarmīgduxt’s efforts to preserve her political independ-
ence from the interests of a powerful member of the upper class; at the same time, however, like
the accession of the sisters themselves to the throne and the murder of the usurper Šahrwarāz,
it is proof of the fact that membership of the Sassanid house or marriage to a Sassanid prin-
cess remained a basic prerequisite for accession to the throne or for political influence by
non-​Sassanians.33 This queen’s coins show that she, like her sister and in contrast to Kawād II,
intended to succeed her father Xusrō. Āzarmīgduxt’s refusal to marry has been seen, like the
fact of Bōrān’s widowhood, as an indication that both women acted as legally independent per-
sons (or only under more formal guardianship) and wanted to preserve their special position as
descendants of Xusrō II in family disputes and vis-​à-​vis the nobility and military.34 The emphasis
on xwarrah in the coin legends may be interpreted as a further indication of this effort.The situ-
ation of these queens has been described as “fruit of a compromise between a compelling need
and tradition.”35 “Need” may be defined as the lack of Sassanid princes, not least because of the
usual physical elimination of competitors, as it had been practiced e.g. by Šīrōy, as well as the
defense against usurpers of non-​Sassanian origin.
The secondary tradition knows further political marriages, through which foreign women
came to the late Sassanid court. For example, Wahrām V Gōr (420–​438) is said to have married
an Indian princess (Ṭabarī 2, 868, 9f.), Kawād I Nēwānduxt, a daughter of the Chaqan of the
Hephthalites, who then became the mother of his famous son Xusrō (Ṭabarī 2, 884, 1f.). The
latter himself married a daughter of the Turk Chaqan, who gave birth to the heir to the throne
Hormezd (IV).36

Conclusion: the position and scope of action of women of the

Sassanid royal house
Although our small and often problematic source material allows only outlines to be made of
the social, legal, economic, and political role of women in the Sassanid royal house, it leaves
no doubt that these women were decidedly living and acting “in public” and by no means in
secrecy (not secluded behind “harem walls”). Similar to the case of the women of the Arsakid
house, we can only rarely make statements about the personality of women of the Sassanid

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dynasty, but we do know more about female members of the family who, partly in a royally
induced hierarchical order, are located at court and in the vicinity of the ruler as queen mothers,
wives, daughters, and sisters. Especially from the late period we also know about women who
had not grown up at court but had arrived there as part of a marriage alliance. Polygamy and
blood marriage are well attested, but we should beware of prematurely accepting the xwēdōdah-​
marriage as the rule.
A female member of the court, in many cases probably the mother of the heir to the throne,
seems to have been elevated from the group of women of the court as “Queen of Queens”
(bāmbišnān bāmbišn); this resembles earlier Achaimenid (521–​330 BC) practice. As ŠKZ proves,
however, daughters of the ruler could also be awarded this title.Title hierarchies were thus ultim-
ately linked to social rank, not family status. We know a “Queen of the Empire” (šahr bāmbišn),
if our assumption concerning Xwar(r)ānzēm is correct, only from the time of Ardašīr. The title
“Queen” (bāmbišn) was given to sisters and daughters of the ruler, but also to some of the wives
of regional kings. The title “Princess” (duxš) may have been given to very young, still unmarried
women. In addition, there is the title “Lady” (bānūg), which was also given to wives of rulers and
regional kings. The sources also award special rank and special dignity to persons who appear
as “Mother” (mād) of a šāhān šāh or “Daughter” (duxt[ar]) of a ruler or regional king. Rank and
honor for royal women can also be seen in the royal foundation of fire temples or the endow-
ment of sacrifices for the salvation of the souls of living and deceased members of the dynasty.
As far as the political influence of women is concerned, our testimonies are much more
meaningful than those for the Parthian Empire. The Manichaean tradition for the early period
holds that a wife, here the Queen of the Sacae, was able to give an audience together with
the king, and the reliefs of the early period also locate the wife of the ruler near the king.
The regency of Dēnag, in the fourth century, and the reigns of the half-​sisters Bōrān and
Āzarmīgduxt, testify to political influence beyond the unofficial or informal female influence of
a woman on a son or husband. Like Parysatis in Achaemenid times, the women of the Sassanid
house, for example, will have tried, not de iure but in practice, to achieve political and/​or social
advantages for their eligible (for kingship) sons, for their marriageable sons and daughters due
for marriage, or for their spouses. Even if the rule of Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt came about
because of the absence of serious male candidates for the throne among the members of the
Sassanid clan, female succession to the throne was not excluded on principle; indeed, parts of
the elite of the empire in that period regarded it as politically correct and even opportune. The
secondary tradition also describes these two women as politically active and treats their actions
positively.
A number of other aspects of the role of Sassanid women are clear. That the Sassanid court,
similar to the Achaemenid one, was an “itinerant court” can be seen from the fate of the family
members of Narseh and Pērōz, who fell into the hands of Galerius and the Hephthalite chaqan,
respectively, and were used as political leverage. Political marriages were common among the
Sassanids, and especially in the late period; as the marriages of Kawād and Xusrō as well as the
queens Maria and Šīrīn prove, they can also be recognized as evidence of politically useful con-
siderations in foreign or domestic affairs. We are hardly informed about female everyday life at
court, but here, too, Dēnag and the two female rulers are indirect proof that the princesses must
have enjoyed excellent education and must have been made familiar with political practice,
which enabled them to make decisions of the greatest significance themselves.
The prominent position of women at court is also evident in their images on coins, seals, and
reliefs, where their crowns (Bōrān and Āzarmīgduxt) and/​or other headgear (crown cap with
diadem, animal head cap) as well as necklaces, earrings, and elaborate costumes37 identify them
as persons of dignity and rank.

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Women of the Sassanid dynasty

Under these circumstances, it is not surprising that a ruler of modern times who was
addicted to legitimation tried to use the Sassanid queens and women at court (alongside
mythical female figures) to provide historical support for his efforts to “emancipate” women.
These skewed references, however, may have persuaded his Islamist opponents to discredit such
emancipatory endeavors by referring to the gender relations of the early days of the Islamic
community, which likewise can only be historically transferred to the present time to a very
limited degree.38

Notes
1 I would cordially like to thank R. Schulz (Bielefeld) and U. Weber (Paderborn) for their help in
obtaining literature.
2 For women in Pre-​Islamic Persia, see Brosius 2000/​2010.
3 Huber and Hartmann 2006: 509.
4 Azarnouche 2013.
5 Macuch 2009.
6 Shaki 1999/​2012; Macuch 1981; 1993; 2007.
7 Shaki 1999/​2012: 184.
8 Huyse 1999.
9 For the women of the royal family mentioned in ŠKZ, see the excellent prosopographic articles by Weber
in her “Prosopographie des frühen Sasanidenreiches” (www.dr-​ursula-​weber.de/​Prosopographie/​).
10 Macuch 2010.
11 Weber 2018a.
12 Weber 2018b: 4.
13 Daryaee 2018.
14 Huyse 1999: 2, 116.
15 Gardner 2015: 178.
16 See, for all these women, Weber 2018e. If not stated otherwise, I follow her interpretations.
17 Weber 2018b: 44–​66, with citations for the older literature.
18 Weber 2012; 2016.
19 For Qandīdā, see Weber 2018c.
20 For the sources and their interpretation, see Weber 2012; 2016.
21 Weber 2018d: 9; for the identification of the royal protagonists in this text (Narseh rather than Wahrām
I), see Gardner 2015: 177–​9.
22 Borisov and Lukonin 1963, no. 979; Overlaat et al. 1993: 280 cat. 147; see most recently Ritter
2017: 287.
23 Neusner 1969: 35–​9.
24 Gyselen 2006: 207, cat. 156; cf. Gignoux and Gyselen 1989: 882–​3.
25 Harper 1971; Harper 1974; Harper and Meyers 1981; Kouhpar 2006.
26 Panaino 2006.
27 For Maria, see Jones, Martindale, and Morris 1992.
28 For Bōrān, see Daryaee 2008: 35–​6; Daryaee 2014; Emrani 2009.
29 Panaino 2006: 230; Huyse 2006: 188. For the coins of Bōrān, see Malek and Curtis 1998; Daryaee 1999.
30 Panaino 2006: 231–​6.
31 For Āzarmīgduxt and her coins, see Panaino 2006; Daryaee 2014; Akbarzadeh and Schindel 2017: s.v.
“Āzarmīgduxt.”
32 For Šīrīn, see Baum 2003.
33 Panaino 2006: 236–​7.
34 Daryaee 2014 would like to see the fight between Āzarmīgduxt and Rustam ī Farroxzādān as part of
Arsakid–​Sassanian conflicts.
35 Panaino 2006: 239.
36 Shahbazi 2004/​2012.
37 Goldman 1997.
38 For women and politics in contemporary Iran, see Sedghi 2007; Ansari 2019, s.v. “women’s
emancipation.”

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Josef Wiesehöfer

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

ŠKZ trilingual inscription of Šābuhr I at the Ka‛ba-i Zardušt in Naqš-iRustam, near Persepolis (Res
Gestae Divi Saporis)

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22
ZENOBIA OF PALMYRA
Lucinda Dirven

Introduction
Zenobia, who ruled (268–​272 CE) from Palmyra in the Syrian desert over the greater part of
the eastern Roman provinces, in the name of her minor son Wahballath, is one of the most
illustrious “queens” of the ancient world, equal to legendary predecessors like Kleopatra VII,
Dido, and Semiramis.1 Zenobia’s fame is largely due to her biography in what is by far the most
elaborate source on her life and reign, the Historia Augusta (henceforth abbreviated SHA), a
compilation of the lives of the Roman emperors from the second and third centuries CE. Her
biography is one of the last and most substantial biographies in the so-​called “Lives of the Thirty
Pretenders,” a book that discusses 32 unsuccessful usurpers between the reigns of the emperors
Gallienus (253–​268) and Aurelian (270–​275). Here, the queen is described as a young and
exotic, stunningly beautiful widow, with a range of extraordinary, masculine qualities that made
her a righteous ruler and strong military leader who claimed the imperial purple for her son.
Eventually, she was defeated by Aurelian, an emperor who happened to be even more powerful
than she was.2 Since the early Renaissance, this highly favorable description of Zenobia’s life has
served as inspiration for novelists, composers, and painters and it was, until quite recently, the
starting point of most historical research.3
The SHA is, however, highly problematical as a historical source and ill-​ suited to
reconstructing and explaining the rise to power of this intriguing queen. Not only was it
written more than a century after the events, but it is full of anachronisms, false documents
(speeches, poems, letters), doubtful anecdotes, and non-​existent sources.4 This holds true espe-
cially for the second part of the SHA, in which Zenobia’s biography is situated. Much of what
we read here about the personality of the queen is contradicted elsewhere in the SHA, espe-
cially in the Life of Aurelian.5 It is an established fact that this inconsistent picture is the result
of the political agenda of its author, who aims to downgrade Gallienus and magnify Aurelian.
Gallienus is scorned because he was unable to keep the Roman Empire together and even had
to tolerate women rulers. Aurelian is praised because he unified the empire again. In order to
acclaim this victory, the defeated queen had to be exceptional.6 The result is an atypical, posi-
tive portrait of a belligerent queen. It is well-​nigh impossible to check the account of Zenobia
through other literary sources. They are all dated later than SHA, are frequently short, and
contradict both the information from the SHA as well as each other.7

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There is a lot about Zenobia in the SHA that we cannot possibly know for certain. Such
issues will not be discussed here. A small part of the historical narrative may, however, be veri-
fied and complemented by primary sources and this picture can in turn be supplemented with
more general historical information on the period. It is along these lines that we hope to find
an answer to the question of why a young woman from a city on the edge of the Roman world
challenged mighty Rome—​or why Rome challenged her. In a search for an answer we shall
first focus on the train of events and subsequently proceed with the historical context and the
social position of women in the oasis. But first, a few additional comments on the complemen-
tary sources are in order.
A small number of inscriptions from Palmyra and its immediate surroundings as well as
papyri from Egypt mention Zenobia and her direct kin.8 Like many Palmyrenes, Zenobia had
a Greek as well as an Aramaic name; Septimia Zenobia in Greek, and Bathzabbai daughter of
Antiochus in Aramaic. Coins from Antiocheia and Alexandria struck during her reign provide
additional information on her titulature and that of her son.They are the only representations of
Zenobia known to date, but instead of being real portraits they are modeled on portraits of other
imperial and royal women. Most common is the portrait type modeled on Salonina, Gallienus’
wife.9 Combined with the literary sources, these primary sources enable a reconstruction of
the events in the years 268–​272 and throw light upon Zenobia’s political aspirations. Additional
information on Zenobia and her possible motives is provided by the rich archaeological record
from Palmyra or Tadmor, as it is called in Aramaic sources. Remains from this city are primarily
dated to the first three centuries of the Common Era, when the city thrived as a result of the
caravan trade between the Roman Empire in the west and the Parthian empire in the east.10
Because of its intermediate position and role, a very distinctive culture developed in the oasis,
one that cannot easily be pinned down to one of the two superpowers, and is therefore best
described as distinctively Palmyrene. A rich source of information on its economic, political,
social, and cultural history are the great number of inscriptions that have been recovered in the
oasis. Typical for its cultural position between East and west are the bilingual texts in Greek and
Palmyrene, a local dialect of Aramaic, that are characteristic of Palmyra’s public domain. Equally
well known are Palmyra’s funerary monuments and the religious buildings with their architec-
tural decoration and sculptured monuments. Domestic architecture has received less attention,
but is certainly not unknown and provides interesting information on the cultural preferences
of Palmyra’s elite. Equally fundamental for a proper understanding of Zenobia’s ascent is the
social organization in the oasis and the position of women in its society. All in all, we have a
multifaceted picture of third-​century Palmyra, one that enables us to understand Zenobia in her
cultural and social context.11 Particularly interesting is the way the Palmyrene elite related to the
elites in other Syrian cities, Rome and the Parthian and Sassanian east.12
Last but not least, information on the historical situation in the third century has to be
taken into account. This is not an easy matter, since the period between the reign of Severus
Alexander (d. 235) and Diocletian (285–​305) is one of the most obscure periods of Roman his-
tory.13 This time was characterized by great instability in which the Roman Empire witnessed
a series of civil wars, frontier breaches, and imperial usurpations. In the lapse of central Roman
authority, local dynasts exercised governance in the frontier regions of the Roman Empire.
Among these were Zenobia and her husband Odainath.

The events: a summary

Now all shame is exhausted, for in the weakened state of the commonwealth things
came to such a pass that, while Gallienus conducted himself in the most evil fashion,

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Lucinda Dirven

even women ruled most excellently. 2 For, in fact, even a foreigner (peregrina),
Zenobia by name, about whom much has already been said, boasting herself to be of
the family of the Cleopatras and the Ptolemies, proceeded upon the death of her hus-
band Odainathus to cast about her shoulders the imperial mantle; and arrayed in the
robes of Dido and even assuming the diadem, she held the imperial power in the name
of her sons Herennianus and Timolaus, ruling longer than could be endured from one
of the female sex. 3 For this proud woman performed the functions of a monarch both
while Gallienus was ruling and afterwards when Claudius was busied with the war
against the Goths, and in the end could scarcely be conquered by Aurelian himself,
under whom she was led in triumph and submitted to the sway of Rome.
(SHA TT 30, 1–​3)14

Thus begins Zenobia’s biography in the SHA. Whereas what follows is largely fictitious, these
lines—​that indeed mostly repeat what has been said about Zenobia earlier in the SHA15—​may
be confirmed, supplemented, and corrected by the primary sources, and thus enable a fairly
accurate reconstruction of the events that took place during the years 268–​272.16
Somewhere between late 267 and early 268, Zenobia’s husband Odainath, who must have
been at least twice her age, was murdered, together with his eldest son Herodian or Hairan, born
from Odainath’s first marriage.17 Both in the SHA and in later literary sources we find different
and contradictory information on the motives and perpetrator of this double murder, and it is
unlikely that this mystery will ever be solved. Since he was killed with his eldest son Herodian/​
Hairan, it may well be that dynastic issues triggered the killing.
Following the murder, Zenobia continued Odainath’s young dynasty and claimed her
husband’s power and titles for their minor son. As his mother, she ruled on his behalf. It is
clear from contemporary primary sources that this boy was called Wahballath (Vahballathus in
Latin)18 and that Herennianus and Timolaus are a figment of the imagination of the author of
the SHA.19 We have no additional information on the first two years of Zenobia’s reign; she
probably ruled over the same region as her husband. But late in the reign of Claudius, in the
summer of 270, the Palmyrene army first invaded Arabia and subsequently occupied Egypt,
regions that had never been part of Odainath’s territory.20 Notwithstanding her aggressive and
expansionist politics (the Palmyrenes slaughtered a Roman commander), Zenobia did not claim
imperial power on the coins she issued in name of her son. Coins minted in Antiocheia and
Alexandria from November 270 to March 272 picture Aurelian on the obverse and Wahballath
on the reverse. Unlike Aurelian,Wahballath does not have the imperial titles Augustus or Caesar
and the young and clean-​shaven king (basileus) is not represented wearing the radiate crown,
traditionally associated with the senior emperor.21 Several milestones found spread over the
region honor Wahballath as vir consularis, rex, imperator, and dux Romanorum, a range of titles that
apart from imperator, he inherited from his deceased father.22 In August 271, Zabdas and Zabbai,
two of Zenobia’s generals, honored both the deceased Odainath and his widow Zenobia with a
statue in the great colonnade, the main street of the city.23 As with most honorary statues from
Palmyra, these statues have been lost, but the accompanying inscriptions remain. In the bilingual
Greek–​Aramaic inscription Zenobia is called “most illustrious pious queen” (basilissa or mlkt’)
instead of Augusta.
But even though Zenobia framed her dynasty as subordinate to the Roman imperial court,
Rome did not accept her claim to rule its Eastern provinces. Initially, Rome had been too
weak and busy to react. This changed when Aurelian, who took the purple in the summer of
270, had managed to pacify Italy. In the winter of 271/​272, his army moved East in order to
defeat the Palmyrenes and reclaim their part of the Roman empire. It was probably in early

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272, in response to the threatening invasion of Aurelian, that Zenobia claimed the imperial
title for herself and Wahballath.24 On coins minted at Antiocheia and Alexandria that prob-
ably circulated between February and June of 272, Zenobia bore the title Augusta in Latin and
Sebaste in Greek.25 Coins from Alexandria are misleadingly dated to her regnal year 5, thereby
suggesting she held the imperial throne from the beginning of her rule. Actually, her imperial
career started in the spring of 272 and was very short-​lived. Aurelian defeated the Palmyrenes
in a battle near Antiocheia and Emesa in the summer of 272, after which he conquered Palmyra
and took Zenobia captive.The sources are in discord about Zenobia’s final fate. She may or may
not have lived.26 Again, it is best to admit ignorance.

Zenobia in context
We may conclude from the primary sources that the sequence of events as described in the
SHA is correct, but that there are some major flaws in the way these events are presented. First
and foremost, the SHA presents Zenobia’s rise to power as a usurpation, whereas the primary
sources indicate that she only claimed the imperial title for herself and her son when attacked
by Aurelian. Zenobia’s submissive policy is, however, difficult to reconcile with the Palmyrene
invasion of the Roman provinces of Arabia and Egypt in the summer of 270. As a consequence,
there has been, and still is, a lot of discussion about the objectives of Zenobia’s actions in Egypt.
Opinions about her intent vary from an Eastern, separatist movement, usurpation of Roman
imperial power, or—​more precisely—​an abortive claim to empire,27 to an independent dynasty
that was still loyal to Rome, a so-​called “Teilreich.”28 In order to choose between these options,
it is imperative to know more about Zenobia’s cultural and historical context, Palmyra and its
relationship with Rome.
The SHA describes Zenobia as regina orientis (“queen of the East”) or peregrina (“foreigner”)
and Palmyra as an Eastern, foreign power that revolted with other barbarian powers against
Rome.29 Similar descriptions can be found in Zosimos and other Byzantine writers and
consequently this outlook has long determined modern interpretations of the conflict as an
“Oriental” rebellion against Roman rule. There can be no doubt that both qualifications are
largely the result of an East versus West antagonism that dominated most of the fourth cen-
tury CE, during which the SHA was written.30 In fact, we can be certain that Zenobia, who
bore the gentilic Septimia, was a Roman citizen, as were other local members of the elite both
in Palmyra and the remainder of Roman Syria, and that Palmyra was a Roman colony.31 But
it is not at all clear-​cut how we should understand this Romanness in Palmyra. Not only was
Palmyrene culture fairly ambiguous, we also have to reckon with the possibility that it varied
according to the social group and circumstances in which it manifested itself and developed
over the course of time.
Since the first century CE, Palmyra had been part of the Roman Empire. The city owed its
riches to its organizing role in the caravan trade between the Roman Empire and its eastern,
Parthian neighbors. Palmyra’s contacts with the East are clear from a number of cultural
influences such as clothing, sculptural styles, and titulature that in Palmyra are interpreted in a
unique, local way and that develop into an independent and distinctive material culture.32 In
addition to these “Oriental” influences, however, we may note strong Hellenistic and Roman
influences, especially among members of the Palmyrene elite who felt at home in a Graeco-​
Roman culture that was shared by other members of elites in cities in Roman Syria.33
Again, these Graeco-​Roman elements changed in a Palmyrene context. Politically, these elites
were strongly connected to Rome, a relationship that intensified over the course of the third
century. A major change for Palmyrene society occurred when the city was granted the status

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of colonia with ius italicum by Caracalla in 212.34 As a result, the frame of reference of Palmyra’s
elite changed; in addition to their position within Palmyrene society and their role in the long
distance trade, loyalty to Roman imperial rule, engagement in Roman imperial service, and
participation in imperial aristocracy became crucial to their identity and self-​perception.35 The
Roman connection partly replaced the caravan trade in the civic career of Palmyrene aristocrats,
not least because this trade diminished in importance due to the war between Gordian III and
the Sassanian king Shapur I. The aggressive foreign policy of this new Persian dynasty not only
hampered the caravan trade to which Palmyra owed its wealth, it also constituted a permanent
threat to Syria’s eastern borders. It is in the context of this precarious situation that we have to
understand the rise to power of Zenobia’s husband Odainath, whose career is firmly rooted in
the Roman domain.
In the SHA and other classical accounts, Zenobia receives far more attention than her hus-
band. Udo Hartmann has rightly pointed out that Zenobia’s rise to power can only be under-
stood in the light of Odainath’s military accomplishments and his affiliation with Rome.36
Odainath’s career can be reconstructed by means of references in the classical sources as well as
Palmyrene inscriptions that mention him, information that needs to be interpreted in the light
of the crisis of the middle of the third century.37 Odainath was one of the new local dynasts exer-
cising governance in the frontier regions of the Roman Empire in the lapse of central Roman
authority. But unlike many of his contemporaries, Odainath remained loyal to Rome, a loyalty
for which he was handsomely rewarded. To the east, the Sassanian Empire loomed large and it
is in the battle against this new superpower that Odainath and Palmyra rose to power. By 251
he was a Roman senator with the status of “most illustrious.” He was also identified as Palmyra’s
exarch (in Greek) or “Head of Tadmor” (in Palmyrene) and as such he had unprecedented
authority over Palmyra.38 No doubt Rome sanctioned Odainath’s status, but “Head of Tadmor”
was not an official Roman title. By 258, in reaction to Persian invasions, the imperial court
promoted him to consular rank.39 But his real rise to power happened in 260, after Shapur I had
conquered and captured the emperor Valerian. In the chaos that followed, Odainath secured
Syria for his emperor and was subsequently made its effective governor, “mtqnn’ (corrector) of
all the East.”40 As such, Odainath and the Palmyrenes kept fighting the Persians and it was after
one of his victories that he claimed for himself the title “King of Kings,” a title normally born by
Parthian and Sassanian kings. The title is only attested posthumously for Odainath, but since it
was employed by his son Herodian/​Hairan, we may assume it was Odainath’s as well. The titles
“King of Kings” and “Restorer of the East” that Odainath bore in the 260s raise vexing issues.
Historians strongly disagree about the exact meaning of these titles and who granted them.41 Be
that as it may, most historians today argue that Odainath remained faithful to the Roman court
and was a Roman official, a temporary representative of the Roman emperor.42
It may very well be that this is how Rome intended the relationship, but it is by no means
certain whether Odainath interpreted his jurisdiction correctly. In fact, in many respects he
behaved like a dynast, a viceroy in Roman territory. For the Romans, this must have been
a contradiction in terms and it may well be at the root of the conflict between Palmyra and
Rome.43 The status conferred by the holding of an office might be passed on, but not the office
itself.44 Even if the titles themselves did not overrule Roman authority, the fact that they were
inheritable may have been enough to suggest the contrary. In Palmyra, on the other hand,
such dynastic behavior was deeply rooted in the oasis’ social organization and the traditional
behavior of aristocratic families.45 This is clear from the fact that Herodian/​Hairan, Odainath’s
eldest son, held the same titles as his father from at least 251 onwards.46 Not only did he share
the title exarch of Palmyra, but he also carried his father’s Roman titles and offices and even the
title “King of Kings.”47 Odainath’s dynasty and his son’s claim to the throne are also clear from

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a lead tessera that pictures Herodian/​Hairan wearing a tiara.48 Interestingly, this royal headdress
resembles the tiara of the Parthian King of Kings and is distinct from that worn by the Sassanian
King Shapur. This suggests the Palmyrene title “King of Kings” emulates the Parthian and not
the Sassanian king. Seen in this light, the title “restorer of the Orient” expresses the ambition
to restore the situation in the West, but also in the East.49 The fact that both Claudius II and
Aurelian adopted the title “Parthicus Maximus” to celebrate their victory over the Palmyrenes
may therefore mirror the restorative, Eastern ambitions of Odainath’s Palmyrene dynasty.50
Odainath also expressed his royal ambitions in a Roman way; from 262 onwards he conferred
his gentilicium on people in his entourage, something only emperors used to do.51 Thus, this too
was most unusual for a Roman magistrate and testifies to Odainath’s royal ambitions.
After the lives of Odainath and his heir and successor Herodian/​Hairan were cut short,
Zenobia took office for her minor son Wahballath, in order to continue the dynasty. In so doing,
she clearly acted in accordance with her late husband’s dynastic ambitions. The Roman central
authorities did not accept her dynastic claim and considered her attempt a rebellion or even a
usurpation. A mother serving as guardian for her son was simply illegal according to Roman
law.52 It may well be that Zenobia only wanted to maintain the status quo, but the fact that she
used the royal title for her son and herself,53 and eventually invaded Roman territory,54 suggest
she envisioned an independent, royal dominion within the Roman empire.55 To the Romans,
this certainly was a constitutional monstrosity. The extension of this royal dominion at the cost
of Roman territory will certainly have been interpreted by them as usurpation. From their
point of view, it is indeed difficult to interpret it otherwise.56 At the heart of the whole conflict,
therefore, lies a cultural miscommunication about dynastic legitimacy.

Zenobia and the women of Palmyra

Zenobia was one of the few female rulers in classical antiquity who was effectively sole ruler.57
Nominally, her young son Wahballath was co-​ruler, which makes her sole power situational
rather than absolute, but actually she governed alone. How are we to explain this extraordinary
situation? What was it about Palmyra that enabled a woman to become that powerful? Our
main sources for the position of women in Palmyra are inscriptions, information that may be
supplemented with representations of women, primarily from the funerary realm. In order
to interpret this evidence correctly, both inscriptions and iconographic material have to be
interpreted in the context of other inscriptions and representations.
Palmyra has yielded a great many inscriptions that provide a great deal of information
on its social organization. Foremost is the study by Jean-​Baptiste Yon who uses the inscrip-
tional material to reconstruct the social, economic, and cultural position of the most important
Palmyrene families.58 In the first and second centuries, such families were parts of clans and
tribes, but in the third century, Palmyrene society largely lost its tribal aspect and individual
families became more important. Among these, the family of Odainath was paramount. Yon
also establishes the position of women from the inscriptions. Through what they say, but mostly
through what they do not say, the texts show that women in Palmyra were socially and eco-
nomically inferior to men. Usually, names and genealogies were patrilineal. After their marriage,
women became part of their husband’s family and were buried in the family tombs of their
husband. Priestesses, rather common elsewhere in the Graeco-​Roman East, are not attested in
Palmyra.59
Women are known primarily from funerary inscriptions, thus from a semi-​private environ-
ment. In addition to the names inscribed in loculi plates (plates on burial chambers or niches)
that picture the deceased, women figure relatively often in so-​called “cession texts” that record

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the buying and selling of funerary property.60 Yon suggests many of the women who acted inde-
pendently in such inscriptions were widows, or acted in the absence of their husband, with a
witness.61 Of particular interest with respect to Zenobia’s role as regent for her son, are the legal
terms mprnsny and mrbyk that testify to the ability of Palmyrene women to act as legal guardians
or tutors of their children.62
In contrast, Palmyrene women are virtually absent from inscriptions from the public
sphere.63 This is particularly telling in view of the richness of the Palmyrene epigraphic record.
Inscriptions that testify to the erection of female statues by the senate or boule of the city, par-
ticularly numerous for males, are missing altogether.The five or six exceptions in which women
do figure in a public context can be explained by their family setting. These are either statues
of women that were set up by fathers, husbands, or brothers, or statues that were set up by
daughters for their parents: they served to (re)affirm their family’s presence in public. In add-
ition, we know of three inscriptions that testify to independent women contributing to the
building of temples or other buildings. These unusual women were the sole remaining heirs of
their family’s wealth.64 As the only representatives of aristocratic families, they were allowed a
man’s role and to meet the demands of the city when there were no men available.
The social status of Palmyrene women conveyed by inscriptions is confirmed by icono-
graphic material from the oasis.65 Honorary statues of women are extremely rare, but many
portraits of women are known from the semi-​private sphere, especially from graves. Loculi plates
embellished with sculptured busts of the deceased have been found in very large numbers in
Palmyrene burial towers and hypogea and date from the first three centuries of the Common
Era. Whereas representations of men follow Graeco-​Roman fashion, the hairstyle, clothing, and
jewelry of women are mostly local and borrowings from Graeco-​Roman fashion are rare.66 The
spindle with which Palmyrene women are frequently represented, as well as the children who
accompany them, all stress their roles as housewives and mothers and underline their important
role in maintaining the family.
In light of the social position of women in Palmyra, Zenobia’s prominent public role becomes
even more unusual. But it is also clear that the exception proves the rule. Like the other widows
mentioned in Palmyrene inscriptions, Zenobia was the last representative of a prominent family.
She owed her position to her powerful husband and to the fact that there was no suitable man
available (yet) to continue the family line. Her effort to secure this line, as the guardian of her
young son, is in perfect accord with the patrilineal character of Palmyrene society and does not
necessarily reflect the general position of Palmyrene women.67 The honorary statue that was
set up for Zenobia by two of her generals at the summit of her power in 271 CE is one of a
pair and is accompanied by an honorary statue for her deceased husband. Whereas the queen
is simply called basilissa, her husband is “King of Kings” and “Restorer of the Orient.” Erected
almost four years after Odainath died, this monument makes the origin of her authority quite
clear. The second public inscription in which she is mentioned, a milestone with a bilingual
inscription in Greek and Palmyrene, found several kilometers from Palmyra, is dedicated to her
son “Septimius Wahballath Athenodorus, King of Kings, son of Septimius Odainath, King of
Kings and to Septimia Zenobia, queen (basilissa/​mlkt’), mother of the King of Kings.”68 Again,
the inscription presents the queen in the context of her family, now as the mother of the heir
to the throne.
Zenobia’s position is best understood in the light of a patriarchal society. Yon corroborates his
theory by referencing two women rulers from tribal cultures, Queen Boudicca in Britannia in
the first century CE and Queen Mawia in Mesopotamia in the fourth century CE, both widows
of prominent tribal leaders.69 In similar vein, Andrade argues that Zenobia’s favorable position
is possibly due to Arabian traditions, as can still be found in contemporary Bedouin society.70 It

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is, however, extremely unlikely that Zenobia’s role should be understood in the light of a tribal
society; the tribal aspect was no longer paramount in Palmyra in the third century. The city and
its elite now existed in the context of a cité grecque.71 In the Roman East, it was rather common
for women to act as guardians (epitropoi) of their fatherless children.72 Furthermore, Riet van
Bremen has pointed out that women holding important offices or liturgies in cities in Asia
Minor were frequently the last heirs of prominent families or acted as guardians for underaged
children.73 Hence the situation in the Roman East is not very different from that in Palmyra.
Palmyra’s relationship with the Graeco-​Roman world brings us back to the introductory
lines of Zenobia’s biography in the SHA quoted above (p. 258), in which it is stated she claimed
descent from Kleopatra VII.74 In fact, the SHA frequently compares Zenobia to Kleopatra, and
sometimes even calls her by this name.75 Scholarship usually rejects descent from Kleopatra
and any possible connection to her or other Hellenistic queens as either a literary topos,76 or a
product of the Orientalism of the fourth-​century author of the SHA (who presents Zenobia
as an Eastern rebel queen, modeled upon Kleopatra).77 The author of the SHA probably
interpreted Kleopatra VII along these lines. However, one should doubt the verdict of a fourth-​
century Roman male author: it is reasonable to suppose that in third-​century Roman Syria,
the Egyptian queen was seen quite differently. Projecting the Roman assessment of Kleopatra
onto Zenobia disconnects her from the Hellenistic world to which she definitely belonged and
wrongly characterizes her as an Arab queen.
Although we have no firm evidence from Roman Syria that Zenobia emulated Hellenistic
queens,78 such a role model would have suited her political objectives very well. After all,
women obtained unprecedented power in the Seleukid and Ptolemaic dynasties and not only
acted as regents, but also as kingmakers, co-​rulers, and sole rulers.79 The conscious imitation
of a Hellenistic queen also accords with the contemporary cultural and intellectual fashions at
the Palmyrene court. Like Hellenistic queens and her near-​contemporaries Julia Domna and
Julia Mamaea, Zenobia interested herself in the intellectual life of the age and she is reported
to have gathered a distinguished group of literary figures around her. Best known among these
was the legendary Greek philosopher Longinus, but she was also in contact with Bishop Paul of
Samosata, Jewish rabbis, and Manichaean missionaries.80

Conclusion
Zenobia challenged Rome by conferring the titles and authority of her deceased husband on
their minor son Wahballath and governed as a queen in his place. Both actions were illegal
in Roman eyes but were in perfect accord with Palmyrene traditions. As a woman ruler, she
perpetuated Odainath’s dynasty and as such she lived up to the cultural and social expectations
of her fellow citizens. It is questionable whether her actions were ever meant to be offensive.
When Rome attacked, she had no choice but to claim the imperial purple. Her true story is
captivating and lively, but a long way from the usurpation described by the ancient literary
sources.

Notes
* I thank Udo Hartmann for sharing his vast knowledge of Zenobia with me. Of course I am solely
resposible for the views expressed herein.
1 The literature on Zenobia is vast. See Equini-​Schneider 1993; Kotula 1997; Bleckmann 2002; Sartre and
Sartre 2014; Andrade 2018. More popular accounts are Stoneman 1992; Southern 2008;Winsbury 2010;
Zahran 2010.
2 SHA Tyr.Trig. 30. Cf. Paschoud 2011: 37–​41 (text), 177–​96 (commentary).

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3 On the legendary Zenobia, see Sartre and Sartre 2014: 191–​258.

4 On literary techniques in the SHA generally, see Paschoud 1997; on Zenobia in the SHA: Paschoud 2011.
5 SHA Aurel. 25–​28. Zenobia is also mentioned in the biographies of five other Palmyrenes who claimed
the imperial purple: SHA Tyr.Trig. 15–​17, 27–​8. She is also briefly mentioned in the biography of
Gallienus (SHA Gal. 1. 2–​3), Claudius (SHA Clod. 4.4 and 7.5) and Probus (SHA Prob. 9, 5).
6 Bleckmann 2002.
7 See Dodgeon and Lieu 1991: 79–​111 for literary sources on Zenobia and Odainath, the most
important (and trustworthy) of which is Zosimus’ account of Aurelian’s campaigns against Zenobia (c.
500 CE).
8 A compilation of these sources can be found in Sartre and Sartre 2014: 265–​ 76 and Andrade
2018: 235–​43.
9 Equini Schneider 1993. Zenobia’s portraits on mints from Antiocheia and Alexandria differ, but the
portraits of Salonina from both cities are different too.
10 For an introduction to the scholarship on Palmyra, see Gawlikowski 1985; Will 1992.
11 On the (material) cultural context: Dirven 2017. On the intellectual context: Andrade 2013. On the
religious context: Kaizer 2002, and on the social context Yon 2002.
12 Andrade 2013.
13 Dodgeon and Lieu 1991 and Potter 2004 are fundamental.
14 Translation from Magie 1932.
15 For the parallels, see Paschoud 2011: 177–​8.
16 Hartmann 2001.
17 The dates of birth of all major players can only be ascertained approximately on the basis of inscriptions.
Odainath’s oldest son Herodian/​Hairan was sharing in his father’s titles by 251 and was certainly mature
by the 260s, when he was proclaimed “King of Kings.” This suggests a date of birth for Herodian/​
Hairan around 235–​240 and for Odainath in around 215: Gawlikowski 2010: 467. Zenobia was prob-
ably born around 240. Her oldest son Wahballath was of minor age in 268 and still was in 272, and
she probably got married in her late teens. This implies she was far closer in age to Herodian/​Hairan
than to Odainath. For the reconstruction of the date Odainath was killed, based on the regnal years of
Claudius II, Wahballath and Aurelian, see Hartmann 2001: 231–​41.
18 PAT 0317 (= CIS 2.1, no. 3791); IGRom. 3.1065 (= CIG 4503b = OGI 647); Bauzou 1998: no. 95;
ILS 8924 = Bauzou 1998: no. 98; RTP 736. Andrade 2018: 240–​2.
19 In SHA Aurel. 38.1-​2, we are told she governed for Wahballath. To Herennianus and Timolaus is
devoted a small biography in SHA Tib.Trig. 27–​8, whereas the biography of Wahballath is missing.
20 Potter 2004: 266–​8; Bland 2011: 140–​1.
21 For the coins, see Bland 2011: 141–​2.
22 Sartre and Sartre 2014: 275–​6 list four milestones from the years 268–​271.Their hypothesis (Sartre and
Sartre 2014: 91–​2) that the Roman senate would have granted the title of consul to Wahballath, while
still a child, is in my view most unlikely. I follow Hartmann 2001: 468.
23 IGLS 17.1.57 (Zenobia); IGLS 171.56 (Odainath)
24 ILS 8924, a milestone between Bosra and Amman (n.d.).
25 The coins that proclaimed Wahballath and Zenobia Augusti: Bland 2011: esp. 142 and 175–​76.
26 See Sartre and Sartre 2014: 182–​7.
27 Millar 1993: 335.
28 Hartmann 2001: 430–​3 and 439–​40 provides a summary of scholarship.
29 SHA Aurel. 27,3; 28,4.
30 Hartmann 2001: 430–​31. Cf. also Sommer 2019.
31 Stressed by Andrade 2018: 52–​4.
32 Dirven 2017.
33 Sartre 1996;Yon 2002.
34 Hartmann 2016: 54, with note 6.
35 Hartmann 2016: 60–​2.
36 Hartmann 2001, especially the summary.
37 All references can now be found in the second edition of PIR, S 492.
38 IGLS 17.1.54, 58. PAT 2753.
39 IGLS 17.1.55; 17.1.56; 17.1.143.
40 On mtqnn’, see Andrade 2018: 135–​36. On Odainath’s titles see also Paschoud 2009.
41 Overview in Andrade 2018: 133–​8.

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42 Hartmann 2001: 440, 444.

43 Similar is Gawlikowski 1985: 261, who suggests this may have been the reason for Gallienus to kill
Odainath and his son. To the contrary, Hartmann 2001: 445 argues Odainath’s royal titles were only
honorific and without political consequences.
44 Potter 2004: 267. Cf. Sommer 2018: 159.
45 Yon 2002: 43–​51.
46 IGLS 17.1.58. Cf.Yon 2002: 148–​9.
47 IGLS 17.1.61 (date unknown; between 260–​1 and 267–​8 AD) =Inv. III, 3.
48 Gawlikowski 2016: 128, fig. 3.
49 Will 1992: 180; Young 2001: 237–​8; Gnoli 2000: 149–​53; Hartmann 2001: 146–​61. Argued by
Gawlikowski 1985; 2007: 307–​9; Sartre and Sartre 2014: 61.
50 These victory titles may also be read as an attempt to externalize the conflict between Rome and
Palmyra: they represent the conflict as an external assault instead of a civil war.This implies the frictions
between West and East well preceded the fourth century.
51 Sartre and Sartre 2014: 72 list the relevant inscriptions.
52 Although mothers acting as guardians for their minor children were a widespread phenomenon in the
Hellenistic and Roman East, the practice was forbidden by Roman law: Cod. Just. 2.12.18, 5.35.1, 5.31.6.
These rescripts may have been directed to women in the eastern provinces: Evans Grubbs 2002: 257.
53 Contra Sartre and Sartre 2014: 57, who claim the title “King of Kings” is just honorary with no judicial
significance, thus arguing (Sartre and Sartre 2014: 11, 89–​90) that Zenobia was only a queen because
her husband and son were “King of Kings.” It is clear from the above that Odainath behaved like a
dynast. So did Zenobia. Consequently, her title “queen” should be taken seriously.
54 Those arguing that Zenobia remained loyal to Rome till the very end (i.e. until Aurelian attacked her),
have great difficulty explaining this bold Palmyrene move.
55 This is what Udo Hartmann has called a “Teilreich” and Fergus Millar “an abortive claim to empire.”
Millar 1993: 335; Sartre and Sartre 2014: 103.
56 Sommer 2018: 161–​2 goes to great lengths to prove this was not usurpation in the traditional sense.The
argument that the Palmyrenes did not challenge a weak emperor is made in hindsight; in the summer
of 270 they could not possibly foresee the future emperor Aurelian would be a strong emperor. It is
more probable that the Palmyrene decision to attack was opportunistic: Sartre and Sartre 2014: 103.
57 Other examples largely from Ptolemaic Egypt: Kleopatra I, II and VII, as well as Berenike III and IV.
58 Yon 2002.
59 Yon 2009: 202.
60 Cussini 2005; 2016; 2019.
61 In addition,Yon 2002: 174–​81; 2019: 186.
62 Cussini 2016: 50–​1.
63 Yon 2002/​2003; 2019.
64 See Yon 2002: 43–​51, 166–​7 on the inscriptions and the role of notable families in Roman Palmyra.
65 Yon 2019: 188–​9.
66 Klaver 2019.
67 Contra Andrade 2018: 166–​70, who contrasts this with the legal position of women in Roman law.
Although the situation is indeed different, this is due to the fact that under Roman law, the prop-
erty of husband and wife is rigorously separated and women stay connected to their family of birth.
In Palmyra, as elsewhere in the ancient Near East, women belonged to the family of their husband.
I thank Emily Hemelrijk for her help with legal matters in the western empire.
68 PAT 0317 = CIS 3971 = OGI 649
69 Yon 2002/​2003; 2019.
70 Andrade 2018: 170, 193. Although Bedouin women are crucial to the conservation of the family, it
does not follow that they hold a favorable position in this society, as Andrade suggests. In fact, it can be
shown that even today they are considered to be non-​entities who have a deplorable social position.
71 Hartmann 2016.
72 Evans Grubbs 2002: 254–​7.
73 Van Bremen 1994; 1996.
74 SHA Tib.Trig. 30,2.
75 Cf. also SHA Tib.Trig. 27. 1; SHA Prob. 9. 4–​5.
76 Burgersdijk 2005: 144; Sartre and Sartre 2014: 81, 109 suggest the comparison with Kleopatra may
date from the time the Palmyrenes conquered Egypt.

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Lucinda Dirven

77 Hartmann 2001: 430; Sommer 2019.

78 A rhetor from Petra named Callinicus may have addressed a ten-​book history of Alexandria to Zenobia,
in the guise of Kleopatra: FGrH 281 T1. Based on this, Bowersock 1983: 134–​6 stresses the Graeco-​
Roman character of Zenobia’s court.
79 On the rise of women-​power in Ptolemaic Egypt, see Pomeroy 1984: esp. 23. See Chapters 7 and 11.
80 Sartre and Sartre 2014: 144–​60 on culture and religion at Zenobia’s court.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

CIS Corpus Inscriptionum ab Academia Inscriptionum et Litterarum Humaniorum conditum atque Digestum.
1881–​1962. Paris.
IGLS Jalabert, L. et al. (eds.) 1939–​. Les inscriptions grecques et latines de la Syrie (IFPO). Paris.
PAT Hillers, D.R. and Cussini, E. (eds.) 1996. Palmyrene Aramaic Texts. London.
RTP Ingholt, H., Seyrig, H., and Starcky, J. (eds.) 1955. Recueil des tessères de Palmyre, suivi de Remarques
linguistiques, par André Caquot. Paris.

Bibliography
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Andrade, N.J. 2018. Zenobia: Shooting Star of Palmyra. Women in Antiquity. Oxford.
Bland, R. 2011. “The Coinage of Vabalathus and Zenobia from Antioch and Alexandria.” The Numismatic
Chronicle 171: 133–​86.
Bauzou, T. et al. (eds.) 1998. Fouilles de Khirbet es-​Samra en Jordanie 1. La voie romaine. Le cimetière. Les
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Bleckmann, B. 2002. “Zenobia von Palmyra: ein Mythos der spätromischen Geschichtsschreibung.” In
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Bowersock, G.W. 1983. Roman Arabia. Cambridge.
Bremen, R. van. 1994. “A Family From Syllion.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 104: 43–​56.
Bremen, R. van. 1996. The Limits of Participation: Women and Civic Life in the Greek East in the Hellenistic
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Burgersdijk, D. 2005. “Zenobia’s Biography in the Historia Augusta.” Talanta 37: 139–​52.
Cussini, E. 2005. “Beyond the Spindle: Investigating the Role of Palmyrene Women.” In E. Cussini (ed.),
A Journey to Palmyra: Collected Essays to Remember Delbert R. Hillers. Leiden, 26–​43.
Cussini, E. 2016. “Reconstructing Palmyrene Legal Language.” In Kropp and Raja 2016: 42–​52.
Cussini, E. 2019. “Daughters and Wives, Defining Women in Palmyrene Inscriptions.” In Krag and Raja
2019: 67–​81.
Dirven, L. 2017.“Palmyrene Sculpture in Context: Between Hybridity and Heterogeneity.” In J. Aruz (ed.),
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Dodgeon, M.H. and Lieu, S.N.C. 1991. The Roman Eastern Frontier and the Persian Wars (AD 226–​363): A
Documentary History. London.
Equini Schneider, E. 1993. Septimia Zenobia Sebaste. Rome.
Evans Grubbs, J. 2002. Women and the Law in the Roman Empire: A Sourcebook on Marriage, Divorce and
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Gawlikowski, M. 1985. “Les princes de Palmyre.” Syria 62: 251–​61.
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Gawlikowski, M. 2016. “The Portraits of Palmyrene Royalty.” In Kropp and Raja 2016: 126–​34.
Gawlikowski, M. and Starcky, J. 1985. Palmyre, Édition revue et augmentée des nouvelles découvertes. Paris.
Gawlikowski, M. 2007. “Odainath et Hérodien, ‘rois des rois.’” Mélanges de l’Université Saint-​ Joseph
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Gnoli, T. 2000. Roma, Edessa e Palmira nel III sec. d. C. Problemi istituzionali. Uno studio sui papiri dell’Eufrate.
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Hartmann, U. 2001. Das Palmyrenische Teilreich. Stuttgart.

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Klaver, S. 2019. The participation of Palmyrene women in the Religious Life of the City.” In Krag and
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Kotula, T. 1997. Aurélien e Zénobie: l’unité ou la division de l’Empire? Wroclaw.
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Sommer, M. 2018. Palmyra: A History. London.
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Reinventing the ‘Invention of Tradition? Leiden, 113–​25.
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Stoneman, R. 1992. Palmyra and Its Empire: Zenobia’s Revolt against Rome. Ann Arbor, MI.
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Winsbury, R. 2010. Zenobia of Palmyra: History, Myth, and the Neo-​Classical Imagination. London.
Yon, J.-​B. 2002. Les notables de Palmyre. Beyrouth.
Yon, J.-​B. 2002–​3. “Zénobie et les femmes de Palmyre.” Annales archéologiques arabes syriennes 45–​6: 215–​20.
Yon, J.-​B. 2009. “Personnel cultuel féminin au Proche-​Orient hellénistique et romain.” Topoi Orient–​
Occident suppl. 10: 197–​214.
Yon, J.-​B. 2019. “Femmes de Palmyre.” Dialogues d’histoire ancienne suppl. 18: 183–​203.
Young, G.K. 2001. Rome’s Eastern Trade: International Commerce and Imperial Policy 31 BC–​AD 305. London
and New York.
Zahran,Y. 2010. Zenobia, Between Reality and Legend. London.

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PART IV

Greece and Macedonia

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23
“ROYAL” WOMEN IN THE
HOMERIC EPICS
Johannes Heinrichs

Homeric epics and Homeric society

Both Homeric epics, the Iliad and the Odyssey, result from long processes of oral formation.2
1

They belong to the so-​called cyclic epics, otherwise lost, but familiar to the original audi-
ence.3 For that audience, brief allusions to persons and events sufficed, whereas our infor-
mation, often derived from fifth-​century Athenian tragedy whose plots were concerned
with problems of that period, differs substantially from the basics that we learn about the
Homeric plots.4
The Homeric narratives are fictitious, though the Greeks regarded them as history.5 A Trojan
War in the form that is staged in the epics, including numerous interventions of gods, never
occurred, nor did Odysseus’ adventures and liaisons with goddesses during his return journey,
nor the murders of the 108 suitors of his wife Penelope. Elements from the social contexts, how-
ever, are consistent within the epics. We cannot expect one homogeneous Homeric society,6
at Troy and on Ithaka, or in the palaces at Pylos and Sparta (which reflect a feudal past), nor
in the utopic polis of Scheria, nor yet again on Achilleus’ shield (Il. 18.497–​508), which opens
perspectives for the future. On the other hand, realistic aspects of culture in the seventh and
even sixth centuries BCE (the period when the epics took their final shape) do appear, as well
as, according to the rules of heroic poetry, material from the period two or three generations
earlier.7 Without them, the plots would have appeared as mere fiction. The poems became
fundamental to Greek thinking,8 and some epic portraits of women enjoyed wide popularity
during many centuries to come.
As a rule, the epics deal with elites. Common people play a role only when they come into
contact with elite heroes, thus enabling them to express their perspectives, as is the case for the
two Phrygian women awarded to Greek “kings” as plunder. Chryseïs and Briseïs were captured
from well-​to-​do families, though inferior to “kings.”9 Usually they have no voice and may only
lament heroic warriors killed in action (Il. 19.282–​302), as women were generally expected to
do (Od. 8.523–​7).10
The terms basileus and basileia are usually translated as “king” and “queen,” but not correctly
so, if “royal” persons from dynasties are understood. In the epics, a dynastic context applies only
to Priamos in Troy (Il. 20.215–​41) and, in Greece, at most to Nestor (Od. 11.241–​54, 281–​6)
and Agamemnon (Il. 2.100–​8), whereas the majority of the basileis, like Achilleus, Diomedes,

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Johannes Heinrichs

and Odysseus, hold their positions as a result of personal efforts, capacities, and wealth. They are
best in war and in council and they maintain networks with other basileis outside of their own
realms. Within those realms, they are not the only “kings.” Other leading men hold the same
title, though they are personally inferior.11 The idea of a ruling dynasty seems so insignificant,
say on Ithaka, that Odysseus’ son is not even a candidate for the leading position at first (Od.
1.394–​8). So the term basileus does not assume our concept of monarchy but depends on the
ideology of the “best” man.12
Terms like “queen” or “royal woman” require even more caution. Still, we cannot do without
them, since alternative options such as “elite” or “aristocracy” apply to social groups, not to
individuals in the highest positions. The epithet “royal” is employed here only for convenience,
with quotation marks, to refer to the leading “best” men and their wives, although women
were usually without public or even political competence.13 Generally we must keep in mind
that the term basileia, often applied to Penelope and Arete,14 is not a title but an adjectival epi-
thet, meaning “kingly” wife or woman (daughter, in Nausikaa’s case, consequently “princess”).15
Without their husbands, “queens” can generally direct their households,16 but have no influ-
ence outside. Arete is an exception because her land is utopian, whereas the situation on Ithaka
conforms to the general rule: Odysseus’ “kingly” household is managed by his wife Penelope in
full independence, but a public assembly in the marketplace or an official council has not met
since Odysseus departed for Troy (Od. 2.25–​7).
“Royal” women are introduced in different stages of their lives: childhood, adolescence,
marriage, and maturity, whereas old age—​as so often—​is illustrated for males only. Each case is
individual: Helena is entirely a literary construction, Arete an outright socio-​political utopia,
and Penelope, closer to reality, may at times turn into a projection for discussing legal and pol-
itical problems. Hence we are far from a consistent concept of “royal” women.

Before marriage: Polykaste and Nausikaa

In the epics, unmarried “royal” girls play no major roles. At Pylos, Nestor’s youngest
daughter Polykaste, apparently quite young, bathes Telemachos (Od. 3.464–​9), a special
honor for the highly esteemed guest since normally this service falls to handmaidens in
the house.17 Was this sort of task consistent with the status of a “princess”? It was, as
illustrated by the case of her young brother Peisistratos who drives Telemachos in a chariot
to Menelaos at Sparta (Od. 3.481–​7). It is true that he was acquainted with the horses and
also with the rather extended route that necessitated an overnight stay at a friend of his
father’s. Moreover, driving chariots is a most distinguished service in the Iliad, but a service
all the same.18 Peisistratos can be charged with it because he is still a youth, as is his sister
Polykaste. Irrespective of gender, Nestor’s children are employed for more or less ordinary
services; these services, however, were elevated by the persons doing them rather than
contradicting their “royal” status.
Another example of young girls is the “princess” Nausikaa, who had just reached the age
of marriage.19 Reminded of her new status by Athena in a dream (Od. 6.15–​40), she becomes
sensitive about the condition of her dresses and asks her father, the “king” of Scheria, for per-
mission to take a mule-​cart to transport them to the river, taking along some handmaids. It
seems that she herself is involved in the washing; afterwards all play ball, without any social
distinction. Since Nausikaa is an unmarried girl, not yet at the head of her own household,
there is no problem in all this. But after marriage, it would no longer be consistent with her
“royal” status.

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Inverted cases? Eumaios and Eurykleia

Two slave children acquired by Laertes were born in basileus-​rank families.20 Both were kid-
napped in their early childhood and sold for high prices, ones indicative of their rank.21 As
long as they are children and young adults, they are treated as privileged, and only as adults
do they become servants, albeit in prominent positions. Eumaios, no longer a companion of
Laertes’ youngest daughter Ktimene, leaves the house for a leading post in pig-​breeding (Od.
15.363–​70), and young Eurykleia, during her youth esteemed by Laertes ‟not less than a faithful
wife” (Od. 1.432), works as a wet-​nurse first and then becomes the highest-​ranking servant
within Penelope’s household. Both lose their affiliation to their original class, but keep a high
standing: in the epics, the origin from a basileus-​family is inalienable, even after the loss of
personal freedom.

Marriage: paternal decisions, marital presents, dowries

Marriage is a crucial moment in the lives of all “royal” youths. For daughters, the epics are
more explicit: as a rule, they are promised by their fathers as wives of partners they do not yet
know. Some examples are Odysseus’ mother Antikleia (cf. Od. 19.410–​12) and—​not in the
epics—​Agamemnon’s daughter Iphigeneia.22 In the Greek camp at Troy, one of Agamemnon’s
daughters is offered to Achilleus (Il. 9.144–​7) and Menelaos’ daughter Hermione is promised
to Achilleus’ son Neoptolemos (Od. 4.5–​9). As ever, fathers use the marriages of “princesses” to
pursue family strategies.
In Nausikaa’s case the initiative seems to come from the girl (Od. 6.244–​5),23 but her father
must take the first step (Od. 7.312–​15).24 He even offers a house and possessions on Scheria to
the prospective bridegroom Odysseus, an exceptional offer since a rich man’s daughter nor-
mally received bride presents from her suitor, as does Odysseus’ sister Ktimene (Od. 15.367).
Penelope can even demand presents from her suitors, receiving precious jewelry from all of
them (Od. 18.275–​301). Rarely is a girl’s hand in marriage achieved without bride presents,
although something may be given: Agamemnon offers one of his daughters to Achilleus to
appease his wrath (Il. 9.144–​6.), and the Trojan “princess” Kassandra is demanded, free of charge,
as a price for military assistance (Il. 13.365–​6).
In turn, the bride’s father gives his daughter an appropriate dowry (Il. 6.395: Andromache; Od.
1.275–​8: Penelope), which she brings into her new household, usually located in her husband’s
home.25 Her family, however, can demand it back when she leaves her marital house: that is
what Telemachos is worried about in case his mother should remarry (Od. 2.132–​3).

Maturity: four literary heroines

Conglomerate identities: Helena
In the epics, “royal” women usually mirror their husbands. Not so Helena.26 Though she has
four husbands (Menelaos, Alexandros, Deiphobos, and Menelaos again), a real match for her
does not and cannot exist: though a mortal woman, she is superhuman. In the epics, she is
introduced as a daughter of Zeus by (mortal) Leda.27 Since she is Zeus’ means to bring about
the Trojan War, she personally cannot be blamed: she is just Zeus’ tool.28 The most important
characters on both sides are aware of this: the Trojan “king” Priamos (Il. 3.164–​5, cf. 24.770)
and his son Hektor (Il. 24.767–​75), as well as the Greeks Menelaos,29 Penelope (Od. 23.218–​24),
and Klytaimnestra.30 As the most beautiful woman of her day, Helena is a strong character who

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can oppose even Aphrodite, though she is also her tool (Il. 3.383–​420) and ultimately must give
in to the goddess. Sure of herself, Helena praises, from the city wall of Troy, the virtues of some
Greek “kings” most frankly (Il. 3.161–​235); at Sparta she listens with a smile when Menelaos
tells Telemachos about her ruse at Troy to unmask the deceptive wooden horse (Od. 3.271–​89),
even though it nearly cost the lives of the leading Greek commanders concealed within it.
Even young Telemachos (whose father Odysseus had been among those hidden in the horse)
is strongly impressed, as is her husband Menelaos who had been at Odysseus’ side. Helena is
typical only in respect to minor aspects of the Homeric world, like spinning wool—​although in
purple, from a silver basket with a golden rim (Od. 4.130–​5)—​or weaving most artful clothes.
In all things she does she surpasses the efforts of other women.
Apart from the epics, Helena has another identity that may contribute to our understanding
of her lack of marital fidelity. Her name is pre-​Greek, associated with an old Lakonian goddess
of vegetation, and cannot be explained as yet.31 The nature of such deities is shifting and shifty.
Part of the time they stay on the surface of the earth, stirring plants to grow and produce fruit,
but then they leave and make vegetation cease in winter. Being of just that nature, in another
myth, Helena, as the daughter of the Spartan “king” Tyndareos, is kidnapped by the Athenian
“king”Theseus and recovered by her brothers, the Dioskouroi.32 Then she is married to Menelaos
who, because of the marriage, becomes “king” of Sparta,33 and her numerous suitors swear an
oath to recover her should she be kidnapped again.34 This eventuality actually happens when
the Trojan “prince” Alexandros/​Paris takes her to Troy, triggering the great war in which nearly
all Greek heroes of the time participate. After nearly a decade, Helena is once more brought
back home to Menelaos’ palace. These are the ways of a vegetation deity, leaving and returning.
In order to play her role in the epic plots, she had to turn into Zeus’ daughter, though she was
older in origin than her alleged father.
Doric Sparta retained the memory of her and Menelaos. The Menelaion, a temple for the
Homeric couple near the village of Therapne, overlooked the polis from the eastern foothills
of Mount Parnon.35 Referring to this sanctuary, Herodotos (6.61) reports a Spartan anecdote.
A high-​ranking local family had a baby daughter, so ugly that her nurse would not let her be
seen by anyone outside the house, so she covered the little girl up whenever she took her to
Helena’s temple (no more mention of Menelaos!) at Therapne, to pray to the goddess that
she might have pity on the child. One day, when leaving the temple, a strange lady asked the
nurse to show her the child. She yielded to the insistent stranger, who smiled at the little girl,
caressed her forehead, and announced that she would be the most beautiful woman in Sparta,
and exactly that happened. The pre-​Greek Lakonian goddess had returned for good, under the
form of the Homeric “queen.”36

A background for Penelope: Klytaimnestra

Another daughter of Leda, not by Zeus but her human husband Tyndareos, is Klytaimnestra
(then Klytaimestra: “she who reaches her decision in an infamous way,” one of the few sig-
nificant names in the epics).37 Already Helena’s half-​sister, she also became her sister-​in-​law
when she was married to Menelaos’ brother Agamemnon, the “king” of Mykene.38 During her
husband’s absence, she governed the oikos (household) as Penelope did that of Odysseus, but
unlike Penelope, she betrayed and murdered her husband on his return (Od. 3.265–​75, 11.409–​
39, 24.199–​202).39
Since Klytaimnestra functions as a negative foil for Penelope (Od. 441–​56, 24.192–​202),
one must underline a further difference that is not explored in the epics. Having transferred
Agamemnon’s “kingdom” to her alleged lover Aigisthos, Klytaimnestra is far less important

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than Penelope is to Odysseus’ position. Whereas the “queen” of Ithaka was absolutely free to
choose from her 108 suitors, Klytaimnestra could only follow, or not, the initiative of Aigisthos,
who had strong dynastic claims to the scepter of the Atrids. Her feelings about her husband
Agamemnon may be inferred from what this “king” states in the Trojan camp about Chryseïs,
whom he had received from the Greek plunder (Il. 1.113–​15): “I prefer her to my original wife
Klytaimnestra, for she is not worse, neither in figure and beauty, nor in intellect and the works
of her hands.” There is more of a similar sort in Aiskhylos’ Agamemnon, e.g. Kassandra (cf. Od.
11.421–​3), let alone Agamemnon’s fraud concerning Iphigeneia. In the Homeric epics all this
is skipped over (though much was contained in the cyclic epics); it would have weakened her
role as an entirely negative counterpart for faithful Penelope.

Outweighing the “king”: Arete

Leda’s daughters are connected to the Peloponnese, the center of pre-​archaic Greece, each to
a Mykenaean palace: Helena to Lakedaimon/​Sparta and Klytaimnestra to Mykene. The two
next appearing “queens” belong to the peripheral Ionian islands (Scheria to be imagined near
Kerkyra/​Korfù and Ithaka) and to the period of the Great Colonization (from the later eighth
to the mid-​sixth century BCE). Without illustrious pedigrees, they are still most influential,
each in her way.
Being the “queen” of fairy-​tale Scheria, Arete modestly keeps herself in the background and
only incidentally expresses her views.40 But since her “kingly” husband Alkinoos always follows
her proposals, it is her opinion that eventually prevails (Od. 6.310–​15, 7.73–​7). She cannot, how-
ever, herself take political decisions such as publicly granting hospitality to Odysseus or escorting
him home. A most instructive example is her proposal that all the leading men of Scheria bring
standardized hospitality gifts for Odysseus (Od. 11.335–​41). She proposes this during a pri-
vate banquet in her own house for Scheria’s leading men, invited by Alkinoos: in such a con-
text, the borders between the public and private spheres get blurred. Although supported by
Echeneos, the party’s doyen, her proposal still needs formal confirmation by the “king” (Od.
11.344–​6): “My friends, certainly not contrary to our opinion is what the prudent (periphron: cf.
Penelope) “queen” pleads, so follow her. | But Alkinoos must approve and realize it.”The “king”
does not hesitate to follow her advice, without any damage to his authority (Od. 11.344–​53).
The origin of her authority is not clear. Her deceased father, her husband’s brother (Od.
7.61–​72), may have possessed political privileges that she has inherited but as a woman cannot
perform herself. Helena’s status at Sparta is comparable, since Menelaos owes his “kingly” pos-
ition to her hand, but this does not give Helena any public significance. Ultimately, Arete’s
unique standing suits the generally utopian scenery on Scheria and cannot be taken for a
realistic model, let alone for an element of an allegedly consistent Homeric society which did
not exist.

Managing crisis from the rear: Penelope

Pēnelopē (epic Pēnelopeia), derives from pēnelops (a parti-​colored duck species, hence fig-
uratively: “the fair one”),41 a derivation already often misunderstood in antiquity.42 The role
she plays on the surface, spinning and weaving (Od. 1.356–​8), is conventional, practiced also
by Helena and Andromache at Troy (Il. 6.323–​4; 6.490–​2), at Sparta by Helena (Od. 4.131–​6;
15.104–​8), and on Scheria by Arete (Od. 6.305–​6). Moreover, all these “queens” have to rear
young children,43 oversee the female personnel in the house, and, at the side of their husbands,
meet and feed guests.44 But thanks to the plot of the Odyssey, Penelope’s part is far more

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Johannes Heinrichs

complex than that of any other “royal” woman in either epic, though she keeps herself in the
background and only rarely discloses her thoughts, let alone her intentions. So, at first sight, she
may appear a simple character, though authoritative and respected even by the most impertinent
of her suitors.
When her husband Odysseus leaves for the Trojan War, he entrusts to her their newborn son
Telemachos, instructing her that “when you see him bearded, then get married to whom you
choose, and leave the house” (Od. 18.269–​70, 19.530–​3). Odysseus is well aware that his mission
is dangerous, so he ensures that, in case of his death, his private possessions will go to his son
once he has come of age. Odysseus cannot count on his father Laertes who, for reasons not spe-
cified, has retired to a rural farmstead and declined to take over responsibility during his son’s
absence. Penelope, then, was the only person Odysseus could count on, as women could gen-
erally act on behalf of their husbands and children, if not on their own behalf.45 However, after
Odysseus’ absence continued without any word from or of him, her status gradually evolved
to that of a widow. At first nothing changed concerning Penelope’s role in the oikos. She was
only in her thirties when Telemachos approached adulthood, so she could still be given in
marriage again by her father and, according to Odysseus’ instructions, leave her seemingly
deceased husband’s oikos and move to the house of her new husband, taking along her dowry
that Telemachos would have to refund (Od. 2.132–​3).
Difficulties concerning Odysseus’ leading position (geras) did not arise on the material but
rather on the political level. As the years went by, his position was increasingly regarded as
vacant. His wife had so far held the purely honorary, but not formal status of a “kingly” woman,
but this ended with her husband’s apparent death. Laertes, if he had ever been the leading
man before his son Odysseus,46 was not ready to retake the position and Telemachos was too
young and inexperienced. Such was the situation on Ithaka, around 16 years after Odysseus had
departed and three years before he returned.The 108 leading men from Ithaka and some nearby
islands then started to woo the seemingly widowed “queen” (the legal fiction of her status was
evidently upheld), leaving it to her to decide for one of them.The plot seems to assume that her
choice would be accepted by the family of her birth, though it had the legal right to make the
decision for her. Though we learn about all this only later and offhandedly (Od. 15.520, 22.52),
it is clear from the beginning that, by wooing Penelope, the suitors aimed at acquiring Odysseus’
leading position. With the consent of all suitors, her second husband would follow Odysseus
into his bed and in his geras.We may deduce that no single one of the suitors controlled enough
authority to be “king” and that Penelope as “queen” was assumed by all to provide her new
husband with the necessary prestige.47 In other words, she decided who would be “king.”
Penelope could do nothing directly for Telemachos in this respect, even though his paternal
heritage was at stake. She could not secure Odysseus’ position for Telemachos since dynasty was
at best one factor among others (Od. 1.386–​7).48 If she had accepted the role as an “electress”
and left Odysseus’ house too soon, while Laertes remained in his rural exile, she would have
betrayed the material interests of her son and counteracted Odysseus’ instructions. In this situ-
ation, she had to play for time, until Telemachos came of age. She gained a three-​year delay by
her weaving and unweaving, until the suitors found out about her practice and took to black-
mail: day by day, they assembled in Odysseus’ house, consuming his and his son’s livestock, while
waiting for her decision. Her situation got even more uncomfortable when Telemachos realized
that his paternal heritage had decreased because of the suitors’ consumption of his goods and
blamed her, for a short while even joining in the suitors’ demand that she should leave the
house and be remarried. He had only just then started to think and act as an adult and she was
well aware of it. So the moment prescribed by Odysseus was at hand: Penelope could not wait
any longer (Od. 19.157–​61). But she did. She had begun to trust a stranger who, entering her

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house in a beggar’s rags, sat among the suitors, and incurred their wrath by giving proofs of
his intellectual, moral, and even physical superiority over them. This superiority cannot have
escaped her. In repeated conversations, during which he had impressed Penelope by his sound
judgment, the alleged beggar pretended that he had recently encountered Odysseus who would
soon arrive. Penelope sensed that there was some mystery about him, but did not yet realize,
with certainty, his identity.
Odysseus, generally clever and cautious, was additionally alarmed by Agamemnon’s ill fate
when he had finally returned home after 20 years. Thus Klytaimnestra’s crime had its effects on
Penelope (Od. 11.444–​53, 24.192–​202), even though Penelope’s character is presented as the
very opposite of the “queen” of Mykene. Since, however, Odysseus was not yet certain of his
wife, he entered his house in disguise, in order to find out generally how things had developed
during his long absence, whom he could trust, and how to punish those who had proved guilty.
He had already privately revealed himself to his son Telemachos, so Penelope in the end was the
only person of Odysseus’ family not let in on the secret, but she must have had some suspicion.
Her standard epithet is periphron (“clever, intelligent;” cf. Arete). Moreover, as Odysseus’ wife,
she must have seen that the peculiar stranger had a striking physical similarity to her husband, as
even her old servant Eurykleia had realized (Od. 19.379–​81). Penelope had her own methods
of finding out the truth. Recalling that old Eurykleia, who had lived in the house ever since
she had been Odysseus’ nurse, knew about a large scar near Odysseus’ knee, Penelope ordered
her, only her, to wash the stranger’s feet, though this service was in no way an appropriate
one for an old, high-​ranking servant. Odysseus, well aware of Eurykleia’s knowledge, at first
protested, but could not decline without confirming Penelope’s suspicion.When the old servant
noticed the scar and recognized whom she had before her, Odysseus ordered her to keep silent,
in a whisper, since Penelope was busy in the same hall. Though Athena prevented her from
seeing or hearing what was going on (Od. 19.479–​80), Eurykleia’s emotion cannot have escaped
Penelope’s notice, especially since she must have arranged the washing as a test.
Though the outcome made the truth apparent to periphrōn Pēnelopeia, she kept on playing
her role as did Odysseus his, and now—​not without Athena’s help—​she saw the solution to
her problem. Immediately she announced to her suitors that she would make her decision in
favor of one of them conditional upon a competition: the winner would have to draw one
of Odysseus’ bows and shoot an arrow through the ears of 12 axes exactly arranged in line, as
Odysseus had done many times before. She knew that no suitor would succeed. Odysseus, in
his disguise, would attend the competition and even take part; she herself, with the assistance of
Telemachos, arranged it. By winning the competition, Odysseus would reveal his identity and
stand in that very moment in front of her suitors, a lethal weapon in hand: no bad plan, and it
was hers (Od. 21.1–​4). It was, however, all she could contribute to the murder of her suitors.
So she once more departed for her chamber and left the rest to Odysseus, Telemachos (who
thus completes his passage to adulthood),49 two faithful herdsmen, and, most of all, Athena (Od.
22.297–​98). Unlike the goddess of war, Penelope, being a human woman, is excluded from
the subsequent slaughter, one likely to be followed by the vengeance of the leading families of
Odysseus’ realm, a consequence that Athena was working to prevent.
Only after the killings of the suitors did Odysseus reveal his identity to Penelope. She had
kept her distance, as she now explains, fearing, at all times, deception and lies (Od. 23.213–​17).
Her pretended ignorance, however, cannot have been very convincing to a shrewd man like
Odysseus. Therefore her final test concerning the nature of her marital bed (Od. 23.177–​204)
may have been a device enabling her to give up her dissimulation in a manner convincing to
him, by her pretended surprise. Actually, she must have known Odysseus’ identity since the
washing scene. So periphrōn Pēnelopeia proved equal to polymētis Odysseus (“who knows many

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Johannes Heinrichs

schemes”). Her ruse of undoing her weaving—​not her only one, as has been argued—​became
her hallmark in the western tradition.50

Inside the seraglio: Trojan women

In the epics, non-​Greek “royal” women from east of the Aegean are portrayed as entirely
dependent on males. Although free to voice their opinion, it is, as a rule, rejected by their
husbands. Their arguments are simple, based on sentiment rather than logic, as is that of
Andromache in her conversation with Hektor at the Skaian Gate (Il. 6.392–​493), when she
held their small boy Skamandrios/​Astyanax in her arms, in order to impress her views on
him.51 His pursuit of honor in battle outweighed her appeals to be cautious and take care of
herself and their little son. The story of her life, reduced as it is to the loss of her male relatives
(Il. 6.413–​30), does not, however, move Hektor. So long as Achilleus along with his Myrmidonian
laos (“contingent”) is on strike against the Greek commander-​in-​chief, he feels superior to the
Greeks and behaves no less insensitively toward his own family than does Achilleus toward the
Greeks.The old Trojan “queen” Hekabe fares no better when she tries to hold back her husband
Priamos from entering the Greek camp and asking Achilleus to hand over the dead Hektor, as
ransom (Il. 24.200–​16). This is no surprise, since her counsel is otherwise never heard.52
Hekabe’s successful efforts are on a different field: she has born 19 children to Priamos
(Il. 24.496), who has others by additional women: 62 children in all, 50 male and 12 female
(Il. 6.243–​49, 24.495). His son and presumptive successor Hektor so far has only one child, as
have many Greek “royal” families.53 Hektor’s son, however, is still a baby, so siblings might yet
arrive.
While the role of Trojan “royal” women is evident from such figures, in marriage relations
they are absolutely dominated by males: in their Eastern social context they are no match
for Helena or Klytaimnestra, let alone for prudent Greek wives such as Arete and Penelope.
Regarding Greek views on Eastern women, Panhellenic propagandists of the fourth century
such as Gorgias or Isokrates would not have to start from zero.
After the conquest of Troy, the Greek conquerors kill many Trojan women, deaths dealt with
only in the cyclic epics and in some detail by Euripides.54 A few verses of the Odyssey, however,
are devoted to Kassandra: violently torn off Athena’s Trojan cult statue and raped while still
within the temple,55 she was allotted to Agamemnon and was going to be slaughtered with him
by Klytaimnestra at Mykene (Od. 11.421–​3).56

Conclusion: no consistent sociology

Homeric “royal” women follow the demands of literary plots in heroic poetry which are set
in the context of more than one historical society. These highlights are something less than the
elite female element in “the” Homeric society. Much more influential was going to be the fic-
tional level, in terms of the individual thinking and conduct of some heroines. Their impact on
Greek views on female roles has been enormous and helps us better understand some portrayals
in subsequent historical societies.

Notes
1 The names of the poets were lost early. The Greeks attributed the two epics to one poet Homeros
whose name is telling (“hostage” or “blind;” for the term’s special meanings in some Greek dialects see

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however LSJ, Ὅμηρος).The final versions go back to different poets, the Iliad preceding the Odyssey by
few decades.
2 Before the texts were written down, probably only in the seventh century (for discussion see West
1995; Lucarini 2019: 389–​96), their transmission was oral and subject to permanent change. Only
in Peisistratid Athens, during the second half of the sixth century BCE, manuscripts from the region
of origin, the coast of Asia Minor and the offshore island of Chios, were collected and authoritative
texts compiled, see van Thiel 1988; cf. Lucarini 2019: 380–​96. But even later there were still smaller
modifications and insertions and their Ionic dialect was, in some places, adapted to the Attic of the
late sixth century. This recension ([Platon], Hipparchos 228b 5–​10, see Schubert 2018: 86–​8 with some
discussion on alternative Solonian or Peisistratean recensions, cf. Lucarini 2019: 393–​415) aimed at
standard texts to be recited each fifth year during the Great Panathenaia (and other festivals: Platon,
Ion 530a, see Heitsch 2017: 35–​6) by competitors who—​relieving each other—​had to perform fixed
sections.
3 They have perished except for short fragments, collected and translated by West 2003; cf. Davies 2001.
One of the thematic cycles was the Trojan War: the Kypria dealt with its cause, prehistory, and opening;
the Aithiopis with Achilleus’ death and the quarrel about his arms; the Little Iliad with further episodes
of the war, e.g. the construction of the Wooden Horse; the Iliupersis with the conquest of the city (West
2003: 142–​53), and the Nostoi with the return of Greek contingents, including “Orestes’ and Pylades’
avenging of Agamemnon’s murder by Aegisthus and Clytaemestra” (West 2003: 157).
4 Scodel 2005.
5 E.g. Thukydides 1.10–​11; cf. Raaflaub 2011b.
6 Snodgrass 1974; Atchity and Barber 1987; Ulf 1990; van Wees 2002; Osborne 2004; Raaflaub 2011a.
7 Ulf 2017: 141–​4.
8 Platon bans the epics from his ideal polis (Politeia 606e), see Murray 1997: 19–​24. In turn, the Sokrates
of [Platon], Hipparchos 228b–​e recommends them as useful for educating the Athenians.They kept their
influence until the fifth century CE, when Greek culture was superseded by Christianity. Illustrative
is the empress Athenaïs/​Aelia Eudocia, an Athenian by origin, wife of the (eastern) Roman emperor
Theodosius II (408–​550CE), cf. Holum 1982: 112–​46.
9 Chryseïs’ father Chryses is Apollon’s priest in Thebe (north of Adramytteion: Il. 1.11–​21, 366–​70); on
Briseïs’ father we lack clear information from the Iliad (19.291–​6), see Dué 2011. According to the
epic’s logic, both come from families of comparable rank.
10 Il. 24.710–​75: Andromache, Hekabe, Helena.
11 Od. 1.394–​6 (Ithaka); 8.41 (Scheria). Men of “kingly” status can collect from the groups they control
within the demos (commoners) compensations for goods officially given, on Scheria (Od. 13.111–​15)
and Kreta (Od. 19.196–​7), cf. Ithaka (Od. 23.356–​8).
12 Il. 12.310–​28, cf. 11.784. The “king” is strongest, most clever, and disposes of material resources and
networks that materialize in prestigious guest presents, see van Wees 2011.
13 Women from elite families can, however, be priestesses, such as Theano, Athena’s priestess at Troy,
daughter of the Thrakian ruler Kisses (Il. 6.297–​300, 11.223–​8).
14 Used otherwise only for Nausikaa (Od. 6.115) and Tyro (Od. 11.258); missing altogether in the Iliad.
15 Od. 6.115. Some female adjectives terminate in -​eia, whereas some male nouns in -​eus.The title basilissa
(“queen”) is encountered only from the early Hellenistic era (Carney 1991; Müller 2009: 76–​81), not
yet for Argead women, as sometimes pretended, nor by Xenophon (Oikonomikos 9.15), who uses the
term in the traditional way.
16 Thalman 2011.
17 Od. 4.47–​50 (Sparta) and 8.433–​56 (Scheria). Also, Nausikaa delegates this task to her handmaids (Od.
6.210–​22).
18 Being in a servant’s role, Peisistratos is treated less attentively and receives no guest presents.
19 Roisman 2011b.
20 Explicitly stated for Eumaios (Od. 15.412–​14) and to be concluded for Eurykleia from her extended
genealogy (Od. 1.429; 2.347; 20.148). Both bear aristocratic names: “he who strives in a good way” and
“she whose glory is far-​reaching.”
21 20 oxen for Eurykleia as a little child (Od. 1.431) is excessive, for ideological reasons; a skilled adult
woman from a commoner family is worth four oxen (Il. 23.704–​5). No price is mentioned for Eumaios
(Od. 15.483).
22 Kypria: Proklos’ argument (West 2003: 74–​ 5); Aiskhylos, Agamemnon 206–​ 46, 1522–​ 8; Euripides’
Iphigenia at Aulis has a plot that deviates from the cyclic tradition, see Aretz 1999.

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23 In the Nausicaa-​chapter of Ulysses (Joyce 1926[1922]: 331–​65), her Dublin counterpart, young Gerty
McDowall, tries to attract the interest of the Dublin Odysseus/​Ulysses Leopold Bloom when he takes
a rest near the seashore.While sitting above him on the slope of Howth promontory that overlooks (cf.
Od. 6.138 with LSJ, proecho, B) Dublin Bay, she exposes to his glances her freshly washed and ironed
underwear. See Gifford and Seidman 1988: 611.
24 Another case might be Telemachos and Polykaste: [Hesiod] Catalogus/​Ehoiai fr. 221 MW (= fr. 168
Most, in Loeb)—​irrespective of alternative versions, see Heath 2011: 844.
25 E.g. Od. 4.5–​9 (Hermione), 19.400–​12 (Antikleia), Il. 6.394–​97 (Andromache). Penelope’s origin and
original status (from a basileus family?) is not specified; her sister Iphtime follows her husband to
(Thessalian?) Pherai (rather west Arkadian Aliphera, south of Heraia, see van Thiel 1988: 65, 245): Od.
4.797–​8 (cf. 3.488, 15.186).
26 Griffin 2011.
27 Od. 4.569. According to the Kypria (West 2003: 90–​91), her real mother was the goddess Nemesis
(“Retribution”). With two immortal parents, Helena would however have been immortal herself.
Thus, in the Homeric epics human Leda substitutes for divine Nemesis.
28 Cf. Euripides, Orestes 1639–​42.
29 Euripides’ version of her shrewed defence: Troades 895–​965.
30 Aiskhylos, Agamemnon 1464–​7.
31 Von Kamptz 1982: 371–​2.
32 Kypria: West 2003: 92–​3. References in Harder 1998.
33 At the moment of her marriage, her brothers, the Dioskouroi, were heirs apparent, but according to the
Iliad they died after she had left for Troy (3.236–​41).
34 Kypria: Proklos’ argument (West 2003: 70–​73, §5); [Hesiod] Catalogus/​Ehoiai fr. 204 MW (= fr. 155
Most, in Loeb) 78–​84 [40–​46].
35 Eder 2011, cf. Isokrates 10.63.
36 In Euripides (Orestes 1635–​7), Helena, being a daughter of Zeus, becomes an Olympian goddess. For
more versions of her myth see Pausanias 3.19.9–​13(on Therapne).
37 Von Kamptz 1982: 29–​30, 104.
38 Lyons 2011b.
39 Backgrounds in the Nostoi (West 2003: 152–​3) and in Aiskhylosʼ Agamemnon—​some were most likely
introduced only by the Athenian dramatist.
40 Felson 2011.
41 Von Kamptz 1982: 275–​6. Cf. Od. 18.212–​13—​the effect of her beauty on her suitors.
42 Early but incorrectly derived from pēnē: “woof, web,” and oloptō (from *eloptō): “to pluck out,” hence
“the one who plucks out the woofs,” with regard to a shroud she weaves during the day and secretely
undoes during the night to put off the moment when she must choose one of her suitors (Od. 2.94–​
110), see von Kamptz 1982: 30, 70; Murnaghan 1986; Heitman 2005.
43 Menelaos had a legitimate son from a slave woman, born after Helena was beyond fertility: Od.
4.11–​13.
44 Od. 4.121–​2, 136–​299 (Helena); 8.417–​56, 11.335–​53 (Arete); 18.206–​25 (Penelope). See Pedrick 1988.
45 Lacey 1966.
46 Though often mentioned, Laertes (West 1989) is never called basileus, only once geron (“member of a
public council”: Od. 21.21), and once “commander of the Kephalenes (meaning the laos of the realm of
Ithaka) in an expedition on the mainland” (Od. 24.377–​8). Either function hints at a “kingly” position
without clearly indicating it.
47 Penelope is not restricted by dynastic arguments, as is Klytaimnestra. In turn, she cannot dispose of
Ithaka’s leading position as her dowry, as argued, however, by Westbrook 2005: only the suitors’ consent
gives her this competence.
48 Only after Telemachos has summoned a public assembly and undertaken voyages to Pylos and
Lakedaimon/​Sparta does he win a personal standing that turns him into a competitor for his father’s
“kingly” position—​and triggers the suitors’ plans to ambush and kill him, not without consequences
for his mother’s mind. Her increasing concern for Telemachos will have prevailed over his prospects
to follow his father as the leading man. Generally see Halverson 1986; Wöhrle 1999; Toher 2001;
Heath 2011.
49 Wöhrle 1999; Toher 2001.
50 In the Penelope-​chapter of Ulysses (Joyce 1926[1922]: 694–​735), her Dublin counterpart Molly
Bloom, while in her bed (recalling the Homeric heroine who so often weeps in her bedroom), lets

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her thoughts and memories float freely, recalling episodes from her life while she goes about her day
in Dublin. One scene evokes Penelope’s encounter with Odysseus/​Ulysses on his return, when he was
still a stranger to Ithaka, “[…] some dean or bishop was sitting beside me in the Jews’ Temple’s gardens
when I was knitting that woolen thing a stranger to Dublin […]” (696; slightly altered orthography).
See Gifford and Seidman 1988: 611.
51 Segal 1971; Shapiro 1995; Minchin 2011.
52 Roisman 2011a.
53 The palm goes to Nestor (Od. 3.32–​9, 450–​2), though the number of his children in the epics can be
estimated at under ten. Next comes Agamemnon, with one son and three daughters (Il. 9.142–​45).
54 For Andromache see Little Iliad fr. 29.2, 30.1 and Sack of Ilion, Proklos’ argument 4 (in West 2003),
moreover Euripides, Troades.
55 West 2003: 146–​ 7 (Proklos’ argument 3); for iconographical renderings of the scene cf. Zizza
2006: 205–​15.
56 Lyons 2011a; for us, Kassandra makes her great entry only in Aiskhylos’ Agamemnon.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Il. Iliad
LSJ Liddell, H.G., Scott, R., and Jones, H.S. 1940. A Greek–​English Lexicon. Oxford.
Od. Odyssey

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West, M.L. 2003. Greek Epic Fragments, 7th to 5th c. BC. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA and
London.
West, S. 1989. “Laertes Revisited.” Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 35: 113–​43.
Westbrook, R. 2005. “Penelope’s Dowry and Odysseus’ Kingship.” In D. Lyons and R. Westbrook (eds.),
Women and Property in Ancient Near Eastern and Mediterranean Societies. Conference Proceedings, Center
for Hellenic Studies, Harvard University. https://​chs.harvard.edu/​CHS/​article/​display/​1219 (accessed
June 12, 2020).
Wöhrle, G. 1999. Telemachs Reise. Göttingen.
Zizza, C. 2006. Le iscrizioni nella Periegesi di Pausania. Pisa.

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24
ROYAL WOMEN IN GREEK
TRAGEDY
Hanna M. Roisman

Introduction
Although the heroines of ancient Greek tragedy have their origins in myth, they share certain
features with women in the male-​dominated Athenian society of the fifth century BCE, when
the plays were written, produced, and acted by men, in front of predominantly male audiences.
In this chapter I will address some of the contexts in which these royal women operate.1
These heroines, and women in general, would have been perceived as inferior to men not
only in physical strength and social status but also in character (e.g. “everywhere we women
are in second place, always at a distance from men,” or “The man who will stop speaking ill
of a woman will in fact be called a wretch and short of understanding,” (frgs. 319, 36 frg. 319,
TrGF vol. 5.1 Kannicht). Although the tragic heroines are queens and princesses, they interact
primarily with family members, male partners, and the slaves maintaining their households.
Khrysothemis notes their physical weakness when she says to Elektra,“You were born a woman,
not a man; physically, you’re not as strong as your enemies” (Soph. El. 997–​8).2 Nevertheless,
the tragedians often presented powerful women, several of whom transgressed the gender rules
that were paramount to Athenian society. The exceptionality of these women resides in part in
the myths inherited by the tragedians, but they also used these unusual females for their own
purposes.

Royal women in relation to the ruling authorities

How do the royal or monarchial heroines engage with ruling authorities? Given the royal
status of these women, the authorities would often be their close family members or husbands.
However, women in ancient Greece, including those of monarchial status, had no political
power. Despite this norm, tragedy often presents royal women in a different light. The prime
example is Klytaimnestra, who is earlier described in the Odyssey as an obedient wife seduced
by Agamemnon’s cousin, Aigisthos (3.253–​75). Aiskhylos’ Klytaimnestra is a much different
woman who rules the polis with an iron fist, an indication that the playwright wanted to
make some kind of statement about women in ruling positions. However, as with many of the
heroines, there is a twist to their depiction, as we shall see.

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Monarchial heroines with executive power

The only monarchial heroine who acts as a fully autonomous ruler is Klytaimnestra in Aiskhylos’
Agamemnon (458 BCE), the first play of the Oresteia. While Agamemnon has been away fighting
at Troy for ten years, Klytaimnestra has taken his place in the administration of the polis. In
Agamemnon she is well fitted to the task, thanks to her quick wits, admirable strategic planning,
and notable rhetorical skills. In Greek tragedy the first reference to a character is usually
revealing: it is evident that Aiskhylos means to present Klytaimnestra as an anomaly. In line 11,
she is introduced by the Watchman as a person incorporating both male and female traits: she is
“a woman with a hopeful heart which plans like a man” (gynaikos androboulon elpizon kear).3 She
is a complex character who comprises the full spectrum of one of the fundamental polarities
on which Greek tragedy is based: the male/​female divide. While being amply gifted with traits
the Greeks associated with men—​eloquence, strategic intelligence and the cold determination
to relentlessly pursue her goals—​she also has what are considered the feminine traits of deceit-
fulness and willingness to alter facts to suit her purposes. In addition, she possesses an uncanny
insight into other people, i.e. “feminine intuition.” The two antitheses she encompasses, that
between the genders (anēr/​gynē,) and that between “hope” (elpis), signifying the irrational, and
“mind and counsel” (boulē), along with the reversal of their traditional assignations, feature as the
main motifs in Agamemnon and the Oresteia as a whole.
It quickly becomes obvious that the citizens of the polis are not happy with Klytaimnestra’s
rule, but it is hard to assess whether this is because she is a woman or because she has flagrantly
brought her lover, Aigisthos, into the palace, while her husband is away at war. The obstacles
that her gender presented to Klytaimnestra in her rule during Agamemnon’s sojourn at Troy, are
epitomized at the beginning of the play, when the Elders who make up the Chorus repeatedly
criticize her for initiating citywide celebrations as soon as she has learned of the fall of Troy.
They are not convinced that Troy has fallen and see Klytaimnestra’s decisiveness in setting all the
city altars alight with celebratory sacrifices as an indication of feminine hastiness arising from
a dream, a vision, and gossip. The Elders, in spite of their polite declaration of their allegiance
to her, carefully observe that the throne can be filled only by a male (258–​60). Her rule, they
imply, is only temporary.

Monarchial heroines overthrowing executive power

Two royal heroines plan, carry out, or facilitate the murders of sitting monarchs. The first is
Klytaimnestra and the second her daughter Elektra, princess of Argos. The prospect of their
womenfolk rising up against them, rebelling, and overthrowing them, must have terrified the
men of fifth-​century Athens. Yet it was just this spectacle that the tragedians chose to present.
These monarchial women have an independence of thought that must have chilled the male
spectators’ blood in their veins! Klytaimnestra’s “temporary” rule would naturally have come
to an end upon the return of her husband, but Aiskhylos created a queen with no intention
of relinquishing her power. Instead, she has carefully planned and executed the murder of her
husband without any male, or female, assistants. By contrast, all presentations of Elektra (by
Aiskhylos, Sophokles, and Euripides) show her waiting for Orestes’ return before helping her
brother plan and commit matricide and regicide. Even after the murders there is no indication
that Elektra ever sought power for herself. So, while Elektra exhibits some of her mother’s
traits, Aiskhylos’ Klytaimnestra remains unique in her wish to rule the polis. Her strategic ability,
singlemindedness, and rhetorical prowess allowed her to deceive and manipulate Agamemnon
into walking into a death trap. Klytaimnestra initially claimed that her motive for murder was

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avenging the death of her daughter Iphigenia (Ag. 1417, 1432), but she clearly intended to con-
tinue ruling (Ag. 1672–​3). Since as a woman she could not ascend to the throne, she planned to
eventually share the rule with Aigisthos. This plan, however, eventually fails: when we see her
again in Libation Bearers, the second part of the trilogy, it is Aigisthos who calls the shots, while
she attends to the household duties as an obedient wife (Cho. 716–​17, 734–​6, 844–​6).
Klytaimnestra’s masterly performance, both before and after Agamemnon’s arrival,
demonstrates how a powerful woman might effectively use her feminine artfulness to enhance
“masculine” skills. When the Messenger announces the arrival of Agamemnon, Klytaimnestra
describes herself as a loyal wife, watchdog of his household who knew no delight or scandalous
report from another man any more than of tempering bronze (611–​12). Her self-​description
to the Messenger as “loyal/​faithful wife” (gynē pistē, 606), is a rhetorical tour de force. She uses
the military concepts of “fidelity” or “loyalty” familiar to Agamemnon from the last ten years
spent with his army. The use of language from his comfort zone creates a false sense of security.
The phrase itself is triply odd. Pistos (“loyal”) is a rare personal epithet found previously only
in Homeros and limited to a military context, but Klytaimnestra transports it into a domestic
environment, where being a “loyal wife” becomes the heart of her wifely identity. Secondly,
it is used formulaically and only for Homeric heroes who have proven their loyalty in death.4
That Klytaimnestra is attuned to this original meaning of the epithet becomes clear in her ref-
erence later to the slaughtered Kassandra, whom she calls Agamemnon’s “loyal (pistē) bedfellow,”
meaning that she was so loyal to her master that she died for him (1442).5 Is Klytaimnestra
insinuating that she is ready to die for Agamemnon if necessary or that her life without him
was a “living death”? Klytaimnestra is speaking Agamemnon’s language, lulling his senses before
she strikes. Thirdly, her use of the epithet for herself is unique: there is no other extant case in
epic or the tragedies where a person uses this epithet to describe him/​herself.This usage reveals
her as both self-​masculinizing and brazen. There is also the possibility of a semantic ambiguity
in the phrase as it appears in the text. When the two words (in accusative) gynaika pistēn are
pronounced emphatically together, they can be heard and understood as gynaik’apistēn meaning
the exact opposite: “unfaithful/​disloyal wife.”6 In terms of performance the text gives latitude
to an actor to pronounce Klytaimnestra’s phrase as he pleases.
To further ensure that Agamemnon completely drops his guard, Klytaimnestra prepares a
truly royal welcome for him. The crimson tapestries spread for him to walk on as he enters the
palace are so expensive that even he, a victorious king, is reluctant at first to trample on them.
He soon succumbs to Klytaimnestra’s blandishments. This scene highlights Klytaimnestra’s
shrewd calculation: she intends to ensure divine support for her plan by luring Agamemnon
into committing an act of hybris which will awaken the gods’ jealousy (photnos).
Although, as is usual in Greek tragedy, the audience do not see the murder, Agamemnon’s
captive concubine, Kassandra, gives its graphic details in her prophecy (1107–​26). Kassandra
ultimately walks into the palace, in full knowledge of what will happen next, praying that her
enemies may pay a blood penalty for “the death of a slave, an easy victim” (1324–​6). Indeed,
Klytaimnestra’s power soon wanes. After the murders, Aigisthos takes credit for overthrowing
Agamemnon and intends immediately to take power over Argos. It seems that Klytaimnestra,
although successful in duping her husband, has underestimated her lover’s ambitions.
Of the three plays presenting Elektra at the time of the matricide, it is Sophokles’ Elektra that
most prominently frames Elektra’s revenge as an ideological and political act, rather than only
a personal one. Situating the action in Argos in front of the royal palace, the heart of political
power and conflict, Sophokles must have wanted to keep audience’s attention on the scene of
Klytaimnestra’s vengeance.

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Sophokles’ Elektra is determined to seek revenge for her murdered father partly for political
reasons: to rid the city of the two usurpers, Klytaimnestra and Aigisthos. She is depicted as a
courageous idealist and revolutionary, determined to see justice done for her murdered father
and to bring down a corrupt and illegitimate regime. On the other, more personal level, she is
a lonely and frustrated woman, living under the thumb of her father’s murderers and prevented
by them from marrying (164–​5, 187–​8, 961–​6). Sophokles thus explores the complex relation-
ship between political idealism and courage, and the cruel and sordid means by which ideals
are inevitably acted on in the world of power and Realpolitik. In her initial encounter with
the Chorus Elektra emphasizes the morality of her stand, but her encounters with her sister
Khrysothemis focus on the moral and political question of how one should act in the face
of superior political power. The timid and practical-​minded Khrysothemis counsels submis-
sion: they are only women, she says (997–​1002), but Elektra is ready not only to kill but also
to suffer and die.
Politically, Sophokles’ Elektra assumes the role of public speaker, a role formally restricted to
men. Her repeated, detailed descriptions of her father’s murder and of the royal couple’s mis-
treatment of her are voiced in public, becoming more than expressions of personal grief and
anger.They have served to keep Agamemnon’s memory alive in Argos, to protest the conduct of
the ruling powers, and to reinforce public perception of the illegitimacy of their rule. However,
Elektra differs from her mother in that she makes no practical plans for retribution until the
arrival of her brother Orestes. Although she clearly wishes her mother dead, she does not
envisage herself as having the power to execute an act of murder by herself without any help.
Euripides’ Elektra seems to have a far more personal agenda. She is nominally married to the
Farmer, yet still a virgin, and living in poverty in the countryside, away from the luxuries of life
in the palace. Her complaints focus as much, if not more, on her own deprivations, far from her
ancestral home, as on her father’s murder. She deceives her mother into coming to her assistance
by claiming she has given birth, and then helps Orestes murder her. Very soon after this, both
Elektra and Orestes express regret and misgivings after the matricide.

Monarchial heroines defying executive power

Sophokles’ Elektra challenges the fifth-​century conventions whereby the indoors was gener-
ally considered the sphere of women, the outdoors the domain of men.7 Sophokles’ Antigone
also defies the de facto ruling power of the polis, her uncle Kreon. Antigone is a Theban princess,
daughter (and sister) of Oidipous by Iokaste. Her decision to bury her brother Polyneikes, who
attacked the city of Thebes in an attempt to retrieve the rule from his brother Eteokles, is both
personal and political, even though she is not fully aware of the latter. Antigone is an impulsive
heroine who buries her brother against Kreon’s edict, out of instinctual feeling that this is what
one should do for a brother, without first formulating the principles theoretically justifying her
action. She is portrayed as a character of great natural integrity, yet stubborn and intransigent. In
focusing on what she regards as the moral way to behave toward family and the gods, she not
only ignores the opinions of others, but is also willing to endanger them by attempting to con-
vince them to collaborate with her. Furthermore, when her sister Ismene does not cooperate
with her, Antigone casts her off, prioritizing the needs of her dead brother over those of her
living sister. However, none of her acts divulge any political awareness or ambition.8 Although
Antigone does not see herself as opposing the state, but just her uncle, scholars have seen the
play as questioning the relationship of an individual and the state, or as representation of the
conflict between oikos and polis.9 Although Kreon’s constitutional status in the play is vague, it
is clear that after the death of Eteokles and Polyneikes, Oidipous’ sons, he is the legitimate ruler

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of the city, and has the power to issue edicts (164–​74). Antigone’s disobedience against his edict
is seen by him as a political offense against his newly donned power. For Kreon the city comes
before family, and there is no greater evil than insubordination such as Antigone’s (671).

Royal heroines challenging and deceiving the ruling authorities

With art mimicking life, tragic monarchial women are also depicted as victims of violence
through wars or other forms of maltreatment. Despite their inferior status, they find ways to
challenge the authorities responsible for their victimhood, often employing various forms of
deception.
The most notable example is seen in Euripides’ Medea. In trying to understand Euripides’
characterization of Medea, it is important to appreciate her background as presented in the play.
Medea is a “barbarian,” and therefore forever a foreigner. Although she was a Princess of Kolchis,
Medea is now an apolis, a woman with no city. At Kolchis she had helped Jason obtain the
Golden Fleece and followed him first to Iolkos, where she tried to help him retrieve his rightful
rule by tricking Pelias’ daughters into killing their father, the usurper of the throne. After fleeing
Kolchis and then Iolkos, Jason quickly forgets everything Medea has done on his behalf, belit-
tling her actions when challenged on his treatment of her (e.g. Med. 526–​34). Casting Medea
aside, he decides to marry the daughter of Kreon, King of Korinthos, instead. Out of fear of
Medea, who is known to be a witch, Kreon decrees that she is to be exiled immediately with
her sons in order to ensure his daughter’s safety.
Although her queenly demeanor is apparent when she meets Aegeus, King of Athens and
converses with him on equal footing (Med. 663–​758), Medea has no status in Greece, and
she is painfully aware of her condition. Her social and political “otherness” is a leitmotiv of
Medea’s story, yet she has learned enough about Greek behavioral codes such as fidelity, grati-
tude, and the honoring of oaths to castigate Jason for breaking them. In spite of being a for-
eigner and a soon-​to-​be exile, Medea is not afraid of debating with Kreon. She resorts to
pleading and depicting herself as helpless. However, immediately after Kreon grants her a tem-
porary reprieve, Medea reveals to the Chorus that her pleas were a ruse to gain time to plan her
revenge. She has deceived Kreon, and the Chorus might well have wondered to what extent she
has deceived them, too. Medea rapidly prepares and sends a poisoned robe to Jason’s new bride,
which clings to the princess’ skin and burns her to death.While there is nothing in the play that
specifically indicates any intention to murder Kreon, he too meets his death when he tries to
save his daughter. Medea is fearless in executing this attack on the ruler of the city. Her revenge
on Jason, however, is only complete once she murders their own sons.

“Good wives” who make their stands against ruling authorities—​who are also
their husbands: Deianeira, Kreusa, Phaidra, and Alkestis
As wives, tragic monarchial women’s conduct is usually reactive.They do not become unfaithful
or vengeful except when the husbands’ behavior prompts it. Some choose to stand by their
husbands, despite what might be considered the outrageous behavior of these men. Deianeira,
Alkestis, Phaedra and, to a lesser extent, Kreusa are generally depicted as traditional women who
submit to the ruling authorities, who also usually happen to be their husbands. In cases where
subversive reactions to a husband seem justified, the wife often incurs either pain or death.
In Sophokles’ Women of Trachis, Deianeira, the daughter of the king of Kalydon, has traveled
with Herakles to his kingdom of Trachis after their nuptials. However, Herakles is rarely present,
instead traveling far and wide on his adventures. Sophokles depicts Deianeira as a good wife, a

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passive figure who tolerates her husband’s absence without complaint. She is characterized by
her inactivity, for example when, still a young bride, she was frozen in terror while Herakles was
fighting Akheloios, the river god, in order to win her. She has stood by Herakles throughout the
years of his adventuring, despite being certain that he has had many extramarital liaisons while
away from home (Soph. Trach. 459–​60). Furthermore, she adores and yearns for her undeserving
husband. She sees him as the “noblest of all men” (Soph. Trach. 177). When Herakles finally
does return from what he has declared will be the last of his ventures, he has with him the
beautiful captive Iole, daughter of King Eurytos. Fearful that she is about to lose her intimacy
with Herakles, she finally decides to use what she thinks is a love potion, but in reality a deadly
poison. What she thought was a fairly minor deceptive seduction results in her husband’s tor-
turous death; as a result she commits suicide.
Kreusa is also depicted as a good wife to her husband Xuthus in Euripides’ Ion.The daughter
of the legendary Athenian king Erechtheus secretly bore a child in her youth after being raped
by Apollon, but exposed him at birth. She suffers from the guilt of this episode and from the
shame of her childlessness in her marriage with Xuthus, a foreigner who won her as a war prize.
When she and Xuthus come to Delphi for help with their childlessness, Kreusa encounters the
young man, later named Ion, serving in Apollon’s temple, without realizing that he is the son
she had lost. When Xuthus is misled into believing that Ion is his own son, and plans to install
him on the throne of Athens, Kreusa feels doubly betrayed by Apollon. Not only will she appar-
ently remain childless, but Xuthus will introduce an interloper into her family, who will inherit
the throne of Erechtheus. Despite the affinity she had felt for Ion, Kreusa is persuaded by the
Old Tutor that she must prevent this from happening. She rejects his suggestion to kill Xuthus
because their marriage was not unhappy, and Xuthus exhibits tender care for her (Ion 657–​60).
She does, however, agree to poison Ion with a drop of Gorgon’s blood she has always kept with
her. She has deceived Xuthus throughout their marriage about her childless status, and now
goes behind his back instead of confronting him about this new son. It would seem that the
limits placed on women’s legitimate means of action force them into desperate measures. Even
after the successful outcome of the story, she is forced by Athena to continue to lie to Xuthus
about the paternity of Ion.
Alkestis’ agreement to die for her husband Admetos is often taken as a mark of love, and
portrayed as such in the play’s reception.10 However, a close look at the encounter between the
spouses reveals that she might simply have had no choice. From what she tells Admetos, it is
clear that her motive was not love or concern for him, but rather her reluctance to make her
children fatherless (Eur. Alc. 288). It might well be that she feared for the lives of her two chil-
dren: after all, Admetos did not hesitate to ask his parents to die in his place.11 They, however,
refused their shameless son’s request (Eur. Alc. 467–​70). Alkestis, despite literally agreeing to die
for her husband the king, names her conditions for doing so. She instructs Admetos: “Keep
(the children) as lords in my house, and do not marry again” (304–​5). Alkestis may well have
known that Admetos could not stand by any such pledge, but at least he would live with the
guilt of knowing he had not kept his word if he does remarry. The end of this play proves that
her assessment of Admetos’ inability to be without a wife has proven correct.

The supreme woman—​Helen’s femininity versus ruling authorities

Like her twin half-​sister Klytaimnestra, Helen is incomparable in Greek tragedy.While Klytaimnestra
was the daughter of Leda and the mortal Tyndareus, Helen is the semi-​divine daughter of Zeus,
who seduced Leda when he took the form of a swan. With the fame of her unparalleled beauty
going before her, Helen is a law unto herself. Extant tragedy does not deal specifically with Helen

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leaving her husband and going (willingly or not) with Paris to Troy. It does however dwell at
great length on the aftermath of the Trojan War, the tragic consequence of Helen’s departure. In
Euripides’ Elektra, Orestes, Iphigenia among the Taurians, Iphigenia at Aulis, Trojan Women, Hekabe, and
Andromakhe, none of the female characters has a good word to say about Helen. Her betrayal of her
husband has led to the ruin of their families. Helen, however, presents an entirely different story in
Trojan Women. Priam and Hekabe were at fault for not heeding the warning and having Paris.The
gods were at fault. Paris was duped into falling in love with her, as she was offered to him as a bribe
by Aphrodite, who has also bewitched her. In Troy, she did nothing wrong, as she could not have
been expected to escape and return to Menelaus; even after Paris’ death, she was powerless as the
wife of Deiphobos. Nothing Helen says is taken seriously by anyone, but her complete subversion
of male authority figures is obtained by her beauty.
Even Helen’s close relations, her sister Klaitemnestra and niece Iphigenia, blame their
suffering on Helen. Only Euripides’ Helen, based on an alternative version of the myth, presents
Helen as a faithful and devoted wife to Menelaos. An eidōlon, or image of Helen, had gone to
Troy with Paris, while the real Helen was whisked to Egypt and for 17 years stayed faithful
to her husband. After the war, the shipwrecked Menelaos is washed ashore in Egypt and is
confused to find his wife there, dry and well dressed, thinking she had been with him at the
shipwreck and later hidden in a cave.
In Euripides’ Orestes, Helen’s final appearance, Helen is still unrepentant, only feeling some
remorse at her sister’s death, and seeking to send libations to Klytaimnestra’s tomb. Incredibly,
she asks Elektra, who participated in her mother’s murder, to carry out this task. Elektra refuses
and suggests that Helen’s daughter Hermione be sent instead. When Elektra and Orestes are
condemned to death for matricide, and Menelaos will not intercede on their behalf, they decide
to kill their aunt and hold their cousin Hermione hostage for ransom. Incredibly, even at this
point, Helen is somehow spared: being rescued by Apollon, she takes her place in the heavens
alongside her brothers, Kastor and Polydeukes, according to her father Zeus’ will.

Monarchial women fulfilling women’s traditional roles

The monarchial women presented in tragedy engage in a variety of functions and roles that
were common to women generally: they are not only mothers and wives, but also engage in
the traditional roles that the household requires of them. They weave and dye their clothes,
they offer hospitality, and partake in religious responsibilities, including lamenting and tending
to the dead. Iphigenia, living among the Taurians away from her family, sums up some of those
roles when she bemoans her fate of being deprived of the accepted womanly duties: “without
marriage, or children, or city, or friends, not raising hymns to Hera at Argos, nor embroidering
with my shuttle, in the singing loom, the likeness of Athenian Pallas and the Titans” (Eu. IT
220–​4). This ordinary aspect of the lives of royal women must have brought the protagonists
closer to the audience and created some common ground.

Motherhood
There is no bond stronger than that of a mother and her child, as Klytaimnestra succinctly states,
when told that Orestes has been killed in a chariot race:

It’s a wondrous thing to give birth. For even

when you’re treated badly, you can’t hate your own children.
(Soph. El. 77–​78)

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Motherhood not only assures the continuation of the royal line but also bestows status
on the woman by having her join the family of her husband, even after the husband’s death,
as in the case of Tekmessa in Sophokles’ Aias.12 However, a woman’s potential for mother-
hood also poses a threat to illegitimate rulers. Thus, the two Elektras and Khrysothemis are
deprived of a marriage or a proper marriage by Aigisthos out of fear of a possible male heir
who could avenge the murder of Agamemnon and reclaim the rule over Argos (Soph. El.
164–​5, 187–​8, 961–​6; Eur. El. 19–​42). Barred from the fulfillment of her womanhood, Elektra
is envious and almost pruriently censorious of her mother’s sexuality (271–​6, 585–​94), and
libidinously invested in her deceased father and absent brother. Young maidens are shown
to crave marriage and motherhood, as Antigone’s song expresses (Soph. Ant. 810–​11; cf. El.
164–​5, 187–​8, 961–​2).
Hekabe in Euripides’ Trojan Women and Hekabe might be the example of the most tragic
motherhood. After witnessing the death of her sons on the battlefield and burying her toddler
grandson Astyanax, thrown from the ramparts of Troy, she suffers loss after loss. She tearfully
parts from Polyxena, who is led away to be slaughtered on the tomb of Achilles. Hekabe also
knows that her daughter Kassandra, cursed with the gift of prophecy that no one believes, will
die violently as well. At this point the wish of a mother to save her daughter, and to avenge
her children killed in the war are her main motivators.13 However, it is the loss of Polydoros—​
her youngest son whom she and Priam had sent to King Polymestor in Thrace to ensure the
youngster’s survival and, by extension, a future for the Trojans if their city fell —​that finally
breaks the distraught mother, prompting her into planning a terrible revenge on her son’s mur-
derer. Together with her, fellow enslaved Trojan women, having lost everything else, also lose
their compassion as mothers: they not only blind Polymestor, but murder his two young sons.
Motherhood is also seen as a motivating force for Kreusa and Medea, although in very
different fashions. In Euripides’ Ion, Kreusa, the only survivor of the autochthonous lineage
to the Athenian throne, although childless in her marriage with Xuthus, gave birth to a baby
boy in her youth, after being raped by Apollon. Kreusa exposed the baby boy but left with him
tokens of recognition that linked the child with the founding myth of Athens.14 In spite of her
youth and impossible circumstances, Kreusa demonstrated concern for the future of her child
and a mother’s love. Eventually, her reunion with her son is effected by these tokens of recog-
nition. Crucially, it was Kreusa’s mothering instinct that ensured the continuation of the line
of Erechtheus.
Medea, on the other hand, is a very different mother. She kills her sons as part of the ven-
geance she is exacting from Jason for abandoning her for the princess of Korinthos. She claims
that her sons by Jason will not be safe in Korinthos with her in exile, and “since they must
[die], the one who gave them birth shall kill them” (Eur. Med. 1061–​2)—​so she rationalizes
her dreadful decision. Her internal struggle before executing the boys’ murder is agonizing. She
acknowledges the horrific pain she is about to undergo but cannot restrain her emotions: “my
wrath overbears my calculation” (Eur. Med. 1079) she admits. Thus, while Kreusa is determined
to discover the fate of her abandoned baby boy and also to preserve the purity of her lineage
even at the risk of her own life, Medea annihilates her motherhood by killing her two sons in
the process of avenging herself on Jason, assuring she leaves him no heirs.

Lamenting the dead

The most politically powerful religious function in the hands of women was lamenting the dead.
In the sixth century BCE Solon recognized the political power of such laments by imposing
restrictions on the participation of women, e.g. only kinswomen over 60 could participate in

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the procession.15 Sophokles gives this powerful weapon to his Elektra, who, in lamenting her
father’s death outside the palace doors, turns her personal grief to social and political ends (see
above, pp. 285–6). Euripides’ Elektra also laments her fate, but unlike her Sophoklean counter-
part her lament does not have the same public political resonance, since she lives in the country-
side far away from the city (El. 54–​63, 112–​212). Antigone also pours out her grief and arouses
a political response from the Chorus when she laments her own upcoming death and burial as a
further sign of her singularity (Soph. Ant. 806–​62).

Relations with the gods

The relationship between some of the Greek monarchial heroines and the gods seems to be
more of a personal than a religious nature. Most notably, Helen and Medea have divine ancestry
and allow themselves a certain leeway in their behavior. Helen in Trojan Women is unapolo-
getic and shamelessly blames her elopement on the goddesses whom Paris judged, specific-
ally Aphrodite (Tro. 924–​42), and although guilty, as a daughter of Zeus, she somehow always
remains unscathed. Medea thinks that murdering her sons is justifiable, and is helped by her
grandfather Helios, who sends her a chariot to escape Korinthos. Kreusa also had what may
be called an intimate relationship with one of the gods, Apollon, who raped her in her youth.
When later in life she comes to Delphi, Kreusa castigates Apollon, blaming him not only for
raping her, but also for not caring about their child.
While other heroines do not have such close relationships with the gods, they petition
them, negotiate with them, or complain about their treatment by them, although often fruit-
lessly. Aiskhylos’ Klytaimnestra’s direct appeals to the gods are denied or rendered futile. She
seeks a pact with the daimōn: she will give up her share of the royal wealth if only the daimōn
will go elsewhere and persecute some other house (Ag. 1566–​76). After her death, the Furies,
who should pursue Orestes for shedding the blood of his mother, fail to pursue him on their
own. Klytaimnestra’s ghost has to urge them to pursue the matricide (Eum. 94–​116). Finally,
Athena, having the final vote in the trial of Orestes before the Athenian Areopagos, does not
refute Apollon’s contention that a woman is a mere vessel for the father’s seed, by which logic
the father is the only parent with any rights to the child. Thus Klytaimnestra, the woman
who rose to a position of unparalleled power, challenging her husband Agamemnon in every
way possible—​his right to determine the fate of their children, his right to rule the polis, and
ultimately his right to live—​is finally defeated by none other than Athena herself, who makes
sure that after her death Klytaimnestra loses even the right to be considered a true parent
at all.
Iphigenia’s relationship with Artemis is complicated. According to the seer Kalchas, it was
Artemis who had withheld the wind from the fleet’s sails at Aulis, and the sacrifice of Iphigenia
would bring back the wind, allowing the army to sail to Troy (Eur. IA 90–​2; IT 15–​19). However,
according to one version, Artemis interceded at the last moment, saving Iphigenia from being
sacrificed (IA 1581–​83; IT 27–​9). Among the Taurians, Iphigenia is supposed to live this trau-
matic moment time after time as she prepares human victims for sacrifice at the goddesses’
temple. Despite her traumatic existence, Iphigenia retains the clarity of thought to observe that
no divinity wants human sacrifice and that the fearful ordeal is dictated by humans: “Impossible
that Zeus’ bride Leto could have given birth to such a foolish creature [Artemis]. […] I believe
that people, here themselves murderous, ascribe their own fault to the goddess. None of the
gods, I think, is wicked” (IT 385–​91). When Iphigenia is about to escape by ship from Thoas,
whom she has deceived with a ruse at having to purify the statue of the goddess in the sea after
it has been polluted by the strangers, Poseidon stirs up a storm and almost wrecks their ship

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on the rocks. Thoas intends to recapture the escapees, but Athena appears as dea ex machina and
intercedes with Poseidon to allow them to sail away, with the instruction that Iphigenia will
serve the goddess until the end of her days (IT 1462–​4). Thus, although saved from death by
Artemis, Iphigenia never sees her home again.

Conclusion
The three tragic playwrights, Aiskhylos, Sophokles, and Euripides, skillfully breathed life into
an array of monarchial heroines, each with her own distinct personality, story, and motivations.
These characters, replete with the full array of human emotions, still fascinate readers and
audiences today.They have ambitions, they take revenge, they love their children and their fam-
ilies, and hate those who harm them. While reflecting to some extent the limitations placed
on fifth-​century Athenian women, the royal heroines are often larger than life. Ultimately, they
were brought into being as part of highly dramatic theatrical performances. They would have
danced, sung, wailed, debated, and pleaded before an audience.Those who died would have lost
their lives just out of sight, but their bodies might have been viewed on stage.We cannot be sure
whether there were any women watching the first appearances of these heroines, but with the
gift of hindsight we can say that they have reverberated through over 2000 years of history and
still find their place in the hearts of audiences today.

Notes
1 Due to the limited space I will not discuss all the royal women appearing in extant tragedies, but I will
consider most of them.
2 Translation of Sophokles’ Elektra is by Roisman 2008/​2017. Translations of Euripides’ plays are by or
based on Kovacs 1999; 2001, of Aiskhylos on Sommerstein 2008, of Euripides’ fragments on Collard
and Cropp 2008.
3 See Stanford 1937: 92: “a woman of irrational hopes combined with the deliberate and purposive
resolution of a man.”
4 The epithet appears only six times in the Iliad, referring to four heroes: Patroklos (17.557, 18.235, 460),
Stichios (15.331), Lykophron (15.437), and Podes (17.589). For discussion, see Roisman 1984: passim.
5 For discussion, see Roisman 1984: 105–​6.
6 Ferguson 1972: 83 mentions this possibility but without any further elaboration. For a full discus-
sion and grammatical ramifications of the use of apistēn, which is a compound adjective in an unusual
female form in Greek, and of other double entendres mentioned here, see Roisman 2018b. For a similar
intentional or unintentional manipulation of sound-​play, see De Jong 2001: on Od. 18.306–​43, where
she discusses erga gelasta “the laughable deeds” that can be understood also as erg’ agelasta “not laugh-
able/​g rave deeds.”
7 For the various qualifications of this assumption, see Easterling 1987.
8 For discussion see Roisman 2018a.
9 This is how Hegel 1962: 62–​74 reads this play. For discussion of Hegel’s analysis, see Steiner 1984:
19–​42; Hester 1971; and briefly Griffith 1999: 49.
10 Roisman 2015.
11 Roisman 2000; Luschnig and Roisman 2003:182–​6; Roisman forthcoming.
12 For discussion see Roisman 2019.
13 Collard 1991: 23–​4.
14 The theme of Athenian autochthony runs throughout the play: 8–​13, 29, 57–​64, 74–​5, 80–​1; cf. 184,
260–​82, 568, 589–​92, 671–​2, 720–​4, 736, 810–​15, 840, 987–​1017, 1058–​60, 1069–​73, 1074–​90, 1106,
1220, 1297–​9, 1073–​88. The study of autochthony, particularly from a feminist perspective, received
great impetus from the work of Loraux (1990) and Zeitlin (1989, reprinted in Zeitlin 1996).
15 Plut. Sol.21, Dem. 43.62. For discussion see Alexiou 1974: 14–​23; Holst-​Warhaft 1992: 99–​170.

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Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Alexiou, M. 1974. The Ritual Lament in Greek Tradition. Cambridge.
Collard, C. (trans.) 1991. Euripides: Hecuba, with Introduction,Translation, and Commentary. Warminster.
Collard, C. and Cropp, M. (trans.) 2008. Fragments. Selection, 2 vols. Cambridge, MA.
De Jong, I.F. 2001. A Narratological Commentary on the Odyssey. Cambridge.
Easterling, P.E. 1987. “Women in Tragic Space.” Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 34: 15–​26.
Ferguson, J. 1972 [reissued 2013]. A Companion to Greek Tragedy. Austin and London.
Griffith. M. 1999. Sophocles: Antigone. Cambridge.
Hester,V.J. 1971. “Sophocles the Unphilosophical: A Study in the Antigone.” Mnemosyne 24: 11–​59.
Holst-​Warhaft, G. 1992. Dangerous Voices: Women’s Laments and Greek Literature. London and New York.
Kovacs, D. 1995. Euripides: Children of Heracles, Hippolytus, Andromache, Hecuba. Cambridge, MA.
Kovacs, D. (trans.) 1999. Euripides: Trojan Women; Iphigenia among the Taurians; Ion. Loeb Classical Library.
Cambridge, MA.
Kovacs, D. (trans.) 2001. Euripides: Cyclops; Alcestis; Medea. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA.
Loraux, N. 1990. “Kreousa the Autochthon. A Study of Euripides’ Ion.” In J.H. Winkler and F.I. Zeitlin
(eds.), Nothing to Do with Dionysos? Athenian Drama in Its Social Context. Princeton, 168–​206.
Luschnig, C.A.E. and Roisman, H.M. 2003. Euripides’ Alcestis with Notes and Commentary.
Paolucci, A. and Paolucci, H. 1962. Hegel on Tragedy. New York: Doubleday.
Roisman, H.M. 1984. Loyalty in Early Greek Epic and Tragedy. Hain.
Roisman, H.M. 2000. “Meter and Meaning.” New England Classical Journal 27: 182–​99.
Roisman, H.M. (trans.) 2008/​2017. Sophocles: Electra. Translation with Notes, Introduction, Interpretative Essay
and Afterlife. Newburyport, MA.
Roisman, H.M. 2014. “Hecuba.” In H.M. Roisman (ed.), Encyclopedia of Greek Tragedy, vol. II. Malden,
MA, 670.
Roisman, H.M. 2015. “Alcestis.” In R. Lauriola and K.N. Demetriou (eds.), Brill’s Companion to the
Reception of Euripides. Leiden, 353–​80.
Roisman, H.M. 2018a. “The Two Sisters.” In D. Stuttard (ed.), Looking at Antigone. London, 63–​77.
Roisman, H.M. 2018b. “Loyal Clytemnestra: γυναῖκα πιστήν (Aeschylus, Agamemnon 606)” Giornale
Italiano di Filologia 70: 11–​18.
Roisman, H.M. 2019. “Tecmessa.” In D. Stuttard (ed.), Looking at Ajax. London, 97–​115.
Roisman, H.M. Forthcoming. Tragic Heroines of Ancient Greek Drama. London.
Sommerstein, A.H. (trans.) 2008a. Aeschylus. Oresteia: Agamemnon, Libation Bearers, Eumenides. Loeb Classical
Library. Cambridge, MA.
Sommerstein, A.H. (trans.) 2008b. Aeschylus. Persians, Seven against Thebes, Suppliants, Prometheus Bound.
Cambridge, MA.
Stanford. W.B. 1937. “Γυναικὸς ἀνδρόβουλον ἐλπίζον κέαρ (Agamemnon line 11)” Classical Quarterly
31: 92–​3.
Steiner, G. 1984. Antigones. Oxford.
Zeitlin, F.I. 1989/​1996. “Mysteries of Identity and Designs of the Self in Euripides’ Ion.” Proceedings of the
Cambridge Philological Society 35: 144–​97; repr. in F.I. Zeitlin (ed.), Playing the Other: Gender and Society
in Classical Greek Literature. Chicago, 285–​338.

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25
ARGEAD WOMEN
Sabine Müller

Introduction
Argead women—​the mothers, sisters, wives, or daughters of reigning Argeads and their male
relatives—​became visible because of the clan nature of Argead monarchy.1 As Carney points out,
all members of this clan “were seen as part of the basileia, including women who were Argead
by blood or marriage.”2 As such, they all represented its dynastic image and contributed to it.
It is misleading to think in terms of a dichotomy of “private” versus “public,” which cannot
be applied to the Argead roles. Family life in the ruling house was essentially political: honoring
ancestors stressed the history of Argead accomplishments; closeness between relatives symbolized
their branch’s solid unity; marriages were a matter of politics, status, and alliances; procreation
served to ensure succession and preserve Argead rule. Argead family business was no matter of
personal feelings, emotional care, or attachment, but of preservation of influence, connections,
and legitimizing staged scenes of dynastic conformity and power. Given all this, the life of
female and male Argeads was inevitably in the public eye.
Supposedly, the large veranda of the palace of Aigai—​the old Argead capital, later the sym-
bolic center and dynastic necropolis—​was constructed as a place for the family to be seen on
certain occasions.3 Birth, marriage, and death as dynastic markers were of political concern.
Female Argeads will have taken part in weddings and burials, probably splendid and impressive
festivals intended to show their wealth and influence to a large number of officials and allies.4
Philip II staged the wedding of his daughter Kleopatra in 336 as a major event in the crowded
theater of Aigai, combined with ceremonies associated with his Persian war, musical contests,
games, and lavish banquets (Diod. 16.91.4–​93.1). It was an advertisement of Argead power and
participation in Greek culture, explicitly directed to Macedonian leading circles and Greek
representatives. Burials were a platform for the successor to show himself as the heir conducting
the funeral and sharing the customary rites.5

The sources
Research on Argead women is hampered by the problem of the sources. Evidence is scarce,
scattered, fragmentary, and focused on male Argeads. Archaeological and epigraphic evidence is
generally poor for Argead Macedonia, let alone for royal women. Traces of portrait statues are

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first to be found in the second half of the fourth century BC: of the statues dedicated by Philip’s
mother Eurydike to the goddess Eukleia (“Good Fame”) at Aigai, dated in the 350s, only two
inscribed podia and a peplos figure (wearing a long female garment) survive.6 The statue’s iden-
tity (Eukleia, a priestess, or Eurydike) is debated. An inscription from near Palatitsia may point at
a lost portrait statue of Eurydike.7 In 338, Philip II commissioned the first known Macedonian
dynastic group made of gilded marble that showed himself, his father, mother, wife Olympias,
and son Alexander (Paus. 5.17.4, 20.9–​10).8 This sculptural representation of the legitimacy and
unity of his family core was put up in the Philippeion, a circular roofed building, dedicated to
Zeus, in Olympia. Only the statue bases have survived.
The scarce epigraphic material for royal women also dates to the second half of the
fourth century BC. The earliest inscriptions are those of Eurydike mentioned above.9
Like the male Argeads, royal women were identified by their personal names and usu-
ally patronymics, for example: Εὐρυδίκα Σίρρα Εὐκλείαι (Eurydike, daughter of Sirras, to
Eukleia: SEG 36.556). While the paternal name entered the official record and collective
memory, this does not apply to that of the mother, as confirmed by lists of Argead rulers
(Hdt. 8.139; Diod. Sic. 7 F 15–​17). As a result, the mothers of several Argead rulers, even
influential ones, are unknown. Inscriptional political documents from Greek poleis such as
treaties of alliance or peace involving Argeads do not mention any royal women, neither in
association with the reigning Argead who represented the empire (IG I³ 89; Syll.³ 135), nor
among the Argead signatories.
Argead coins are another problem. In Hellenistic times, coins could be minted for a royal
woman (in her name as indicated by the legend on the reverse), show her portrait, and on rare
occasions be issued by a royal woman herself, such as Kleopatra Thea.10 However, there are no
coins minted by or for an Argead woman, and no coin portraits of them.11
Due to the lack of Macedonian reports, Greek and Roman texts are our main literary sources.
However, they view Macedonia and its monarchy from the outside and preserve the cultural
perceptions and judgments of their respective intellectual and socio-​political backgrounds. This
is an issue. Although the Argeads claimed a—​surely forged—​Greek (Heraklid) descent from
Peloponnesian Argos (Hdt. 8.137.1, 139; Thuc. 2.99.3; 5.80.2; Diod. Sic. 7 F 15) and their
court society participated in Greek culture, in several respects, Macedonia, influenced by Thrace,
Illyria, Epeiros, and probably the Achaimenid Empire, differed from Greece, also regarding the
spheres of action of elite women.12
The contemporary speeches of the Attic orators attest to the degree of prominence of
Alexander III’s mother Olympias and his sister Kleopatra among the Athenians (Lyk. Leokr. 26;
Hyp. Eux. 19–​23). Similar to the references to Argead rulers, the orators only mention their
personal names (even without any implied reference to Macedonia). Their names apparently
connected them with their house.13 This implies that the audience was knowledgeable about
their identity and public persona.The device “With or without his mother Olympias, there was
only one Alexander”14 also works the other way around. Acknowledging the Argead women as
representations of the clan, the orators also shed significant light on the gloomy mood in Athens
under the detested Macedonian dominion: the women were seen as another manifestation of
the evil Macedonian oppressors and corrupting forces.15
Distressed by the public appearance of royal women in the field of politics, Greek and
Roman authors showed an attitude Carney fittingly characterizes as “a compound of ignor-
ance and hostility” accompanied by feelings of alienation.16 As a result, they provide us with
distorted moral views on Argead women as agents of their clan: interfering in an “unseemly”
way into “manly” business, causing chaos and bloodshed. Infamously, Olympias is portrayed as
a quarrelsome, jealous, scheming, and cruel battle-​ax who gave her stepson mind-​destroying

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drugs (Plut. Alex. 77.5) and instigated her husband’s assassination (Just. 9.7.1–​12). Creating the
impression that loss of morals runs in the family, Plutarch is indignant that Olympias’ daughter
Kleopatra allegedly betrayed her royal rank by using her freedom of action (apparently as a
young widow) and lack of control by the head of the family (her undutiful brother Alexander
who did not care for her remarriage) in order to have an affair with a handsome young man
(Mor. 818b–​c). Trogus-​Justin summarizes the prejudices of Greek and Roman writers against
women in politics by characterizing Olympias’ political style when fighting for her grandson’s
rights in Macedonia as follows:17 she “committed a great slaughter among the leading circles
throughout the country in a manner more like a woman than a royal” (14.6.1). Such stereotyp-
ical ancient depictions reveal a lot about the socio-​cultural background of the authors and next
to nothing about the historical women and their contributions to the standing of their house.
For example, while depicted as a kind of ancient prototype of a degenerate helicopter-​mother
(Plut. Alex. 39.7), according to Macedonian standards, Olympias was a good mother: caring,
energetic, and profoundly integrated into the networks of power.18

Missing titles, significant names

There is no evidence for the use of a female title for the wives, mothers, and daughters of
the Argead ruler. Ancient Macedonian equivalents to terms such as “dowager queen,” “queen
mother,” “queen” or “princess” (as well as “(crown) prince”) did not exist. The word basilissa
for a Macedonian royal woman is first attested in the times of the Successors for Demetrios
Poliorketes’ wife Phila (Syll.3 333.8–​9, after 306).19 It was used for wives and occasionally
daughters of a Macedonian ruler, signifying that they were members of the royal house without
implying any specific powers or office.20
Argead rulers did not use the title basileus either. It would not have suited their traditional
position as a primus inter pares (first among equals). Philip II paved the way for breaking away
from this limitation—​without calling himself basileus. If Alexander III used the title at all—​it is
debated whether it emerged posthumously—​he did so only in his last years.21 Accordingly, it
is also unclear whether in this time or during the transitional years after his death, some royal
women received a title. An Athenian inventory of dedications lists votives (a golden rhyton and
jewelry) by Roxane, his Baktrian wife, to Athena Polias (Syll.³ 334). Perhaps it dates to the time
after 323 when Olympias advocated the throne rights of her grandchild Alexander IV, Roxane’s
son, in Europe. She may have tried to polish Roxane’s image.22 While the inscription calls her
(dead?) husband basileus, Roxane is only labeled his wife (gyne).
According to epistolary slanders, ascribed to Theopompos (Ath. 13.595d–​e = BNJ 115 F
254b), and a contemporary pun by the Greek comic poet Philemon (Ath. 13.595c), Alexander
III’s treasurer Harpalos, infamous for his dolce vita, forced the local population of Babylon and
Tarsos to call his courtesans basilissai. The credibility of this information is doubtful. Even if it
contained some truth, it is not proof of an established practice at the Argead court.
Carney suggests that in some individual cases, Argead women’s personal names that
recognized their public identity had the impact of a “quasi-​title”: it marked their influential
status as Argeads before actual titles were employed.23 Sometimes, Argeads used their daughters’
names to commemorate their political and military accomplishments.24 Alexandros I called his
child Stratonike, “victory in military matters” (Thuc. 2.101.6), perhaps referring to a victory in
Bisaltia or eastern Macedonia in the 370s/​60s.25 A daughter of Philip II was named Thessalonike,
“victory over the Thessalians” (perhaps at the Krokos Field in 352); another, Europe, commem-
orating the establishment of the Macedonian hegemony in 338 (Ath. 13.557d). Alexander III’s
sister Kleopatra honored her brother’s defeat of the Theban revolt in 335 (that had begun by

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attacking the Macedonian garrison on the Kadmeia) by calling her baby daughter Kadmeia
(Plut. Pyrrh. 5.5).
While throne names were not Argead practice, in the turbulence after Alexander III’s death,
the prestige of his successor Arrhidaios was increased by the change of his name to Philip after
his famous father (Curt. 10.7.7; Diod. Sic. 8.2.4; Arr. Succ. F 1.1). Similarly, Arrhidaios’ wife Adea
was renamed Eurydike (Arr. Succ. F 1.23), a reference to Philip’s mother and the Argead past
carrying dynastic prestige and apparently political promises.26
Another change of a female name mirrors the public status of royal women: Philip II’s
Epeirote wife Polyxena-​Myrtale was renamed Olympias after her marriage (Plut. Mor. 401a–​b),
either to commemorate his victory in Olympia (Plut. Alex. 3.5) or in the Macedonian games
at Dion, or to stress his piety to the Olympian Gods.27 Reportedly, Olympias also bore the
name Stratonike, perhaps as an epithet when fighting for Alexander IV. Maybe it referred to
her faction’s victory at Euia (317).28 In any case, it was a statement underlining the “trademark
quality” of royal names.

Succession advocacy and polygamy

Argead mothers played an important role as succession advocates, in particular since there was
no fixed systematic succession process such as primogeniture in Macedonia.29 While most often,
sons succeeded their fathers, succession was a matter of situational power constellations at the
court and political circumstances in the empire, not of any fixed rules. It was in the interest of an
Argead mother that her son made it to the throne and retained it: his career empowered her.30
As Carney states, polygamy “transformed mothers and sons into political units” and contributed
particularly to the influence of royal women.31 If the son was still a minor and her position at the
court firmly consolidated, she could act as a regent on his behalf, like Kleopatra, Alexander III’s
sister. She seems to have taken the regency in Epeiros when her husband Alexandros I died in
331/​330, leaving an infant son, Neoptolemos (Just. 12.2.3–​4; Aischin. 3.242; Liv. 8.24.5–​13).32
While there is no explicit epigraphical evidence for her regency, perhaps, as her reception of the
sacred envoys shows (SEG 23.189, l.12), she acted as regent.
Matters of Argead succession were influenced by polygamy as a royal prerogative. Polygamy
served to secure a sufficient number of throne candidates, and to establish or intensify polit-
ical alliances with other influential families on a wide scale. It is uncertain which Argead ruler
introduced this practice. Philip II is the first for whom it is explicitly attested (Ath. 13.557b–​e).
But it was probably practiced before (Just. 9.8.3). If it was borrowed from Achaimenid practice,
it was made compatible with Argead requirements: Persian royal polygamy linked the dynasty
with its leading circles, Argead polygamy distinguished it from them.33
Since polygamy carried the risk of inner dynastic strife and discord in leading circles, it
has been argued that the negative portrayals of some Argead mothers and sons were the by-​
product of “amphimetric strifes” (rivalries between mother–​son-​g roups), thus traces of smear
campaigns.34 The malicious character assassins are identified with the victims’ own family
members who tried to outmaneuver the rival contender by raising doubts about his legitimacy
(“bastardizing”) and slandering his mother’s descent and conduct. However, as Carney states, the
term “bastardizing” is too narrow to describe the phenomenon: more often, the status of the
mother, not the son, is denigrated.35
In addition, such slanders against Argead mothers and sons might not be the result of rude
family feuds, but the literary product of our Greek and Roman authors with their moral
view from the outside.36 Argead polygamy was a major source of misunderstanding resulting
in distorted depictions of marriage politics, the court, and wives. For Greeks and Romans,

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monogamy was the norm while polygamy was often “barbaric,” associated with eastern despots,
extravagance, and decadence.37 Accordingly, the authors showed a lack of understanding of
the status of Argead wives and offspring. Since in their eyes, there could only be one legal wife
(γυνή) with legitimate (γνήσιος) children, not several of them, they erroneously depicted these
“superfluous” wives as mere concubines (παλλακαί), mostly of lower rank, and their children
as illegitimate (νόθος). Thus, one of Philip II’s seven wives, Philinna, a high-​ranking Thessalian,
was called a dancing-​girl (saltatrix) and prostitute (scortum) (Just. 9.8.2; 13.2.11) of obscure birth
(Plut. Alex. 77.5).
Being a child of a polygamous father, even Alexander III was associated with reproaches of
being “illegitimate” (in the sense of a “lesser” legitimacy)—​at least according to a sensation-
alist anecdote in our Greek and Roman sources (Plut. Alex. 9.4; Ath. 13.557d–​e; Just. 9.7.3–​5).
However, all of the women the ruler had married were his acknowledged wives and all those of
their children whom he had acknowledged were legitimate.
It is also inappropriate to speak of a “chief wife” and “second wives.” This misconception
seems to be inspired by Western imaginations of the “harem” as a counter-​image of sexual and
social norms.38 Hence, since accusations of bastardy and low birth are standard elements of the
Greek and Roman misrepresentation of the practice of polygamy, it seems unlikely that any
knowledgeable Argead court member slandered his relatives in terms fitting a monogamous
view. They surely thought in other categories.
It has also been supposed that the polygamous Argeads failed to establish any consistent
method of hierarchizing their sons and principles of legitimacy.39 However, this idea of fixation
and quasi-​institutionalization does not apply to the Macedonian structures. Just like succession,
legitimacy was not a fixed principle.The ruler’s sons’ political “market value” depended on situ-
ational, changeable power constellations.This flexible “market value,” symbolic weight or capital
(immaterial elements of prestige constituting social status) consisted of the following factors: the
basic requirement of being an Argead; the prestige, political importance, and genealogy of his
paternal and maternal families; the degree of being marked out by the reigning ruler; his own
military and political experience and skills; and in particular the dimension of support by the
influential Macedonian factions.
In a polygamous court, the candidate’s mother’s status as a distinguishing mark was of
special importance. Since the outcome was determined by the constellation of power at the
court, a new ruler might have owed his accession not least to the networks of his mother.
Her—​flexible—​symbolic capital was constituted by the political influence and prestige of
her natal family’s ancestry, the influence of her faction, her ability to give birth to a poten-
tial successor, and her personal ability to engage in networking.40 But nothing was fixed. All
depended on the political situation. A marital bond could become unimportant for the ruler.
For example, when Alexander III married the Baktrian Roxane in 328/​327 (Curt. 8.2.26–​9;
Plut. Alex. 47.4), the bond served the immediate political need to gain Baktrian supporters to
settle the Sogdian–​Baktrian revolt. The marriage’s importance was diminished by the end of
the revolt and even more so when in 324, Alexander married two Achaimenid women with
much higher prestige.

Historical developments
Argead women’s areas of action expanded in accordance with their dynasty’s rise. Philip II’s
reign was a watershed. His own structural and visual elevation of rank in relation to his leading
circles increased the participation of royal women in the monarchical presentation. Even before
that, their roles will have encompassed more than the “traditional” fields of marriage policy and

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reproduction: political, diplomatic, dedicatory, beneficial, and probably also cultic aspects. But
the scarce evidence mentions early Argead women only as brides or mothers.
The Greek Herodotos, known as the father of historiography (Cic. leg. 1.5), mentions the
first attested Argead woman, Gygaia (5.21.2). In 513–​510, her father Amyntas I complied to the
demand of Dareios I’s general Megabazos for a formal surrender (Hdt. 5.18.1–​2; Just. 7.3.1–​
3).41 Gygaia married Megabazos’ son Boubares (Hdt. 5.21.2, 7.22.2, 8.36.1; Just. 7.3.9), perhaps
an Achaimenid.42 The date is debated.43 Herodotos places the wedding in the aftermath of
Amyntas’ surrender while stating that his son Alexandros I gave his sister to Boubares—​actually
her father’s task if he had been alive. The identity of the giver of the bride hints at Alexandros’
early reign. Since he was much more influential than Amyntas—​who had been a peripheral,
hardly important local dynast—​it would also explain why the high-​ranking Persian Boubares
would want to marry into this family.
In this context, in a likely fictional banquet story, Herodotos mentions that Argead women
did not attend courtly symposia (Hdt. 5.18–​20; cf. Just. 7.3.3). This would be in accordance
with the Greek view that symposia were no place for any respectable women. However, Carney
assumes that they might have been occasionally present or banqueted separately.44
The next Argead woman also appears in the context of strategic marriage policy. In 429,
Stratonike, the sister of Perdikkas II, was given to Seuthes, the nephew of the Odrysian ruler
Sitalkes (Thuc. 2.101.5–​6). Allied with Athens, Sitalkes had invaded Perdikkas’ realm (Thuc.
2.95.1, 98.1, 100.1–​4; Diod. Sic. 12.50.3–​51.3). Perdikkas negotiated a peace that was sealed by
the marital union. Usually, the Athenian Thucydides hardly pays any attention to women and
rarely mentions female names.45 While Stratonike is an exception, he is not interested in her in
her own right. Rather, naming her serves as a proof of authenticity and alleged inside know-
ledge regarding his claim that the marriage was another crookery of Perdikkas, Thucydides’
usual suspect, portrayed as a devious, nightmarish ally of Athens:46 allegedly, Perdikkas secretly
and subversively bribed Seuthes—​another unreliable “barbarian”—​by offering Stratonike and a
large dowry. Seuthes accepted and made his uncle retreat, who thereby let the Athenians down
(2.100.5–​6). This passage is an instructive example of the layers of bias and partisanship that
mostly color the information on the Argeads.
Altogether, the few attested Argead women of the fifth and early fourth century BC appear
exclusively as wives and mothers. They are hardly more than names to us—​if their names were
recorded at all. Things change with Eurydike, the wife of Amyntas III (394/​393–​370/​369),
“the first royal woman in Macedonia known to have taken an active role in public events.”47
Macurdy, the pioneer scholar regarding Argead women, sees her as an embodiment of the rise
of “woman power” in Macedonia.48 Probably of prestigious Lynkestian and Illyrian origin (Plut.
Mor. 14b; Suda s.v. Karanos κ 356 Adler; Strab. 7.7.8), Eurydike provided Amyntas III, who had
been troubled by the Illyrians (and likely their Lynkestian ties), with the political connections
he so badly needed (Diod.14.92.3). Probably, they married in the still tense situation in the late
390s.49 Eurydike increased her symbolic weight by giving birth to three sons and a daughter
(Just. 7.4.5). Her political significance did not seem to have faded during Amyntas’ reign—​the
Illyrian threat remained a factor, the Lynkestians unpredictable. Although Amyntas had another
wife, Gygaia, perhaps from another Argead branch,50 and three sons with her (Just. 7.4.5), only
Eurydike’s sons made it to the throne, succeeding each other: Alexander II, Perdikkas III, and
Philip II.
Her public presence was at its height under Philip II, when other Argead women also emerged
with a public profile. In the span from his reign to Olympias’ death in 316, the whole range of
royal women’s spaces of action besides succession advocacy, marriage politics, and reproduction
became visible: dedications, benefactions, diplomacy, piety, politics, warlike appearances, cultural

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policy, and patronage. Exemplarily, regarding politics and diplomacy, Olympias demanded the
surrender of the fugitive Harpalos from Athens in 324 (Diod. 17.108.7); Kleopatra represented
Epeiros as thearodoch (official receiving sacred envoys) in 330 (SEG 23.189, l.12).51 As for acts
of piety, Olympias dedicated a golden bowl to the goddess Hygieia in Athens (Hyp. Eux. 4.19).
Concerning cultural policy and artistic patronage, Eurydike posed as a role-​model regarding
education (Plut. Mor. 14b-​c); Kleopatra sponsored the tomb of a Greek flute-​player, probably
her court musician (Paus. 1.44.6).
Olympias and Kleopatra, the most prominent Argead women, were promoted by Alexander
III in his reign. During his campaigns, they held position in Europe, working hand in hand
with him.52 He enabled their benefactions for the sake of the house by sending parts of his
booty to them (Plut. Alex. 16.8, 25.4, 39.7). After the establishment of Macedonian control
over the Kyrenaika in 331/​330, he shipped Kyrenaian grain to them which they sold during
a time of shortage in Greece (SEG 9.2; Lyk. Leokr. 26), likely cheaper than the expensive
famine price. After the battle of Gaugamela (331), Olympias ordered a dedication of crowns to
Delphic Apollon to be paid with 190 dareikoi, the Persian gold coins, obviously another part of
Alexander’s booty (Syll.³ 252).

Argead women and war

Warrior skills were central elements of Argead representation, certainly responding to the
practical requirements of rule. War was so crucial that even some women participated in the
demonstration of Argead warrior skills.53 Carney divides their warlike appearances into three
categories: battlefield command, symbolic leadership, and administrative leadership.54 As for the
first category, Kynnane, the daughter of Philip II and his Illyrian wife Audata, fought on his
side during his Illyrian campaign in the 340s (Polyain. Strat. 8.60), perhaps commanding some
Illyrian mercenaries.55 In 317, during the civil wars in Macedonia, Kynnane’s daughter Adea-​
Eurydike appeared as a commander in the battle of Euia (Diod. Sic. 19.11.2, 9; Ath. 13.560f).
In the ongoing debate on the identity of the occupants of tomb II in Vergina-​Aigai, it has been
supposed that Adea was the woman buried like a warrior in the antechamber with a set of
gilded weapons.56
At Euia, the participation of Olympias, the figurehead of Adea’s opponents, was of an organ-
izational nature (symbolic leadership). The fact that Adea’s Macedonian troops deserted to
Olympias because of her (higher) axioma (prestige, rank, influence: Diod. Sic. 19.1.2) illustrates
that they understood and accepted her military role.
The military training attested for Audata, Kynnane, and Adea (Ath. 13.560f; Diod. Sic.
19.11.1–​3) may have been both a preparation for battlefield command and a public show dem-
onstrating the house’s warrior skills, hence symbolic leadership. As for administrative leadership,
in 368/​367, Philip II’s mother Eurydike reactivated philia networks by hiring the Athenian mer-
cenary general Iphikrates. He expelled the pretender Pausanias who had invaded Macedonia
and threatened the future of her minor sons (Aischin. 2.27–​9; Nep. 11.3.2). Unfortunately, we
have no information on any income or property of Argead women. However, since there are
Hellenistic examples of royal women with their own funds at their disposal, perhaps this also
applied to the Argead women: Eurydike may have paid the mercenaries herself.57
A legend of proto-​historical Macedonia connects Macedonian women with war. While
there is no explicit reference to female Argeads, given the dynasty’s warlike profile, the asso-
ciation is not unlikely. According to the Macedonian Polyainos (Strat. 4.1), the Argead ruler
Argaios (sixth century BC) tricked the invading Illyrians into believing that his small force
was a huge one: when the enemy advanced, he let Macedonian girls, devotees of Dionysos,

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appear who carried thyrsoi instead of spears and had their faces covered with wreaths. The
Illyrian ruler mistook them for men and retreated. A grateful Argaios built a temple to Dionysos
Pseudanor (“sham man”) and called the priestesses Mimallones (“imitators of men;” cf. Kallim. F
503 Pfeiffer). The tale is thought to reflect a transition rite for Macedonian adolescent girls that
included cultic female travesty. Furthermore, Angiò sees a metaphorical hint at the political and
military aspects of the roles of Argead women whom Macedonian recipients likely associated
with the Mimallones.58 It is tempting to connect this with the suggestion that Olympias,
associated with Dionysiac rites and the term Mimallones (Plut. Alex. 2.5–​6; Ath. 13.560f), was a
priestess of Dionysos.59

Argead widows
The fate of an Argead widow depended on her individual situation.60 Often, she was in danger: in
order to cut the ties to the predecessor and to prevent potential rivals from allying themselves
with her, the new persons in charge killed her. Exemplarily, in 323, Perdikkas, Roxane’s new
patron, had Alexander’s two Achaimenid wives Stateira and Parysatis (probably)—​to whose
incomparably higher dynastic prestige Roxane could not measure up—​killed (Plut. Alex. 77.4).
He wanted to use Roxane’s unborn child as a political tool and dead widows could make no
rival claim to being pregnant with Alexander’s baby.
The question of remarriage of an Argead widow depended on her age and her individual
situation. It has been suggested that there existed a pattern of Argead “levirate” or “stepmother”
marriages: successors married their predecessors’ widows, often their own stepmothers, as tokens
of legitimacy.61 However, as Carney points out, the respective dynamics are much more variable
and the marriage to royal widows did not legitimate a ruler in any absolute sense.62 Additionally,
such a pattern of “stepmother marriages” is based on scholarly reconstruction of gaps of know-
ledge. The burden of proof regarding the three debated cases rests with problematic sources. As
for Perdikkas II and Phila, no marriage is attested at all, only lovesickness (Hipp. Sec. Sor. 5; cf.
Luk. Hist. conscr. 35). Regarding Archelaos, the assumption depends on the homonymy of his
wife Kleopatra and his father’s betrothed (Pl. Grg. 471a–​d; Diod. 14.37.6). In the case of Ptolemy
of Aloros—​likely no ruler but Perdikkas III’s guardian—​and Eurydike (probably merely his
mother-​in-​law), the marriage is debated since only a scholiast mentions it.63
The Christian author Tertullian (Apol. 9.16–​17; Ad nat. 1.16) claims that the Macedonians
(= rulers?) were suspected of habitually sleeping with their mothers: when Oidipous was
performed first in Macedonia, they ridiculed Oidipous’ grief and shouted rowdily: “ἥλαυνε
εἰς τὴν μητέρα (drive into the mother)!” The source of inspiration for this indecent tale will
not have been any practice of Argead (step)mother-​marriages. Tertullian draws a comparison to
the Persians, likewise suspected of such evil habits, and refers to Ktesias with his stereotypical
depictions of Eastern courtly decadence (BNJ 688 F 44a–​b).64 Hence, it looks like another by-​
product of pejorative Greek and Roman fantasies about polygamous courts.

Conclusions
The scope of the activity and visibility of Argead women depended on the political situation
of their house in general and increased with its rise. It varied with the women’s individual
circumstances and their skills in establishing and using personal networks and handling political
situations. When they emerged in the public eye, even if they appeared in their own right, it
was always in connection with their dynasty. The link was so inextricable that the Attic orators
thought it sufficient to mention only Argead women’s personal names without any hint at

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their descent.This inextricability also enabled their warlike appearances: Macedonian recipients
apparently understood that they contributed to presenting their house as a solid, warlike unity.

Notes
1 I am grateful to Elizabeth D. Carney for all of her support and helpful suggestions.
All dates, if not indicated otherwise, are BCE.
Carney 2019: 8; 2016: 7–​8, 11; 2003: 251; 1995.
2 Carney 2016: 7.
3 Carney 2010b: 50. On the court as a political arena: Strootman 2014: 35–​40.
4 Carney 2017: 147–​8; 2015b: 149; 2010a: 416–​17; 2010b: 47; Hammond 1992: 31. On the theatre as
the setting of Kleopatra’s marriage: Palagia 2017: 157.
5 Carney 2017: 148; Alonso Troncoso 2009: 278, 280, 282, 285.
6 Carney 2019a: 82–​92; Palagia 2010: 39–​40; Saatsoglou-​Paliadeli 2000; Mortensen 1992: 163–​5.
7 Carney 2019a: 92–​5.
8 On the Philippeion see Carney 2019a: 108–​12; Palagia 2017: 151–​3; Carney 2010a: 417; 2009: 195;
Worthington 2008: 164–​6; Carney 2007. According to archaeological results, there was no change in the
original statue program and, contrary to Pausanias’ claim, the statues were not made of ivory and gold (like
cult statues): Schultz 2007: 205–​21. Palagia takes the statue of Eurydike for Philip’s last wife Kleopatra,
maybe renamed Eurydike (2017: 153; 2010: 38–​9), cf. Arr. Anab. 3.6.3. See Heckel 2006: 89–​90.
9 Carney 2019a: 76–​92; Mortensen 1992: 163–​5.
10 See chapters 15 and 17.
11 The same is true for the male Argeads. The heads on the obverse of Argead coins show Herakles and
Zeus. The beardless youth wearing a taenia may be the Argead founder figure. As an exception, on the
earliest series, the Macedonian rider may portray Alexandros I, and the bearded type on Philip II’s
tetradrachms Philip: Heinrichs 2017: 80–​5.
12 Carney 1993b: 318–​20; O’Neil 1999.
13 Carney 2010b: 45.
14 Whitehead 2000: 217.
15 Wirth 1999: 304–​6.
16 Carney 2016: 12.
17 On her role in the transitional years see Chapter 27.
18 Carney 2009: 189.
19 Carney 1991: 161; Chapter 26 in this volume.
20 Carney 2019a: 112–​15; Carney 1991.
21 Troxell 1997: 92–​3.
22 Carney 2019: 139, n. 6; Bringmann and von Steuben 1995: 19–​20, no. 3 [E]‌. Uncertain: Kosmetatou
2004: 75–​80. On this stage in Olympias’ career see Carney 2006: 60–​87. Alexander had also dedicated
to Athena Polias: Bringmann and von Steuben 1995: 313–​14, no. 268 [E]. On Roxane see Heckel
2006: 241–​2.
23 Carney 2010b: 44; 1991.
24 Psoma 2015: 16, 22; Carney 2010b: 44–​5.
25 Müller 2017a: 95–​8.
26 Psoma 2015: 16; Carney 2010b: 44; Macurdy 1932: 25.
27 Carney 2006: 15–​16; Heckel 2006: 181; Carney 2000: 62–​3; Funke 2000: 97, 164; Macurdy 1932: 24.
28 Carney 2006: 16.
29 Carney 2019: 9–​11; 2018; Mitchell 2012: 4; Hammond 1992: 31. On Argead succession cf. Müller
2017b: 193–​5; Psoma 2012; Anson 2009; Greenwalt 1989; Hatzopoulos 1986; Carney 1983.
30 Carney 2019a: 10 states that a mother had to prioritize her son over her husband; Carney 2018: 29;
2000: 23–​7; 1992; 1987: 37–​8.
31 Carney 2003: 251; 2019a: 10.
32 Meyer 2013: 121–​2; Heckel 2006: 90–​1; Carney 2000: 89; Funke 2000: 188.
33 Carney 2017: 139. On Persian royal marriages see Brosius 1996: 35–​92.
34 Ogden 1999: ix–​x, xiv–​xv.
35 Carney 2019a: 11–​13.
36 Müller 2015: 472–​3.

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37 Madreiter 2012: 144–​5, 161; Brosius 1996: 3–​4; Greenwalt 1989: 22.
38 Lewis 2004: 13, 96, 98–​9, 182, 185–​7. On the rejection of the term “chief wives” see Mitchell 2012: 4;
Carney 2009: 190.
39 Ogden 1999: ix.
40 Müller 2017b: 194–​5; Carney 2006: 22–​4.
41 Olbrycht 2010: 343; Heinrichs and Müller 2008: 289–​90.
42 Badian 1994: 110–​12, 116.
43 Zahrnt 1992: 245–​6, n. 19. After Amyntas’ submission: Olbrycht 2010: 343; Badian 1994: 109, 112;
Hammond 1992: 31; Borza 1990: 103, n. 15. Alexandros I fixed it: Carney 2017: 142; Macurdy
1932: 14. A son of the couple was named Amyntas and entrusted with the government of Alabanda/​
Alabastra by Xerxes (Hdt. 8.136.1).
44 Carney 2016: 264; 2015a; 2019b: 48. On the story’s fictitious character: Müller 2016: 115.
45 Vanotti 2010: 450.
46 Müller 2017a: 33–​8, 151–​5. On Stratonike’s marriage: Carney 2017: 140; Müller 2017a: 158–​9;
Carney 2000: 20; Archibald 1998: 119–​21; Hammond and Walbank 1979: 129; Macurdy 1932: 14.
47 Carney 2019a: 53.
48 Macurdy 1927.
49 Eurydike’s descent: Carney 2019a: 23–​31; Müller 2016: 213; Macurdy 1932: 17–​22. On the date of
the marriage: Carney 2019a: 27–​8; Müller 2016: 213; Greenwalt 1989: 25.
50 Roisman 2010: 161.
51 Meyer 2013: 122; Funke 2000: 179–​80, 188–​90.
52 Carney 2006: 50–​1, 96.
53 Carney 2004: 188; Carney 1993b: 318–​20.
54 Carney 2004: 184.
55 Carney 2004: 185; Heckel 1983–​4; Macurdy 1932: 49. Perhaps her Illyrian descent played an add-
itional role: Macurdy 1927: 210.
56 Palagia 2017: 158–​60; Carney 2004: 187; Landucci Gattinoni 2003: 44–​56; Carney 1991: 22–​3. Her
former patron Kassandros provided the burial (Diod. Sic. 19.52.5; Ath. 4.155a). See Chapter 27 in this
volume. On Adea: Heckel 2006: 4–​5; Landucci Gattinoni 2003: 40–​3; Carney 2000: 132–​37; Heckel
1983–​4. On the date of Olympias’ death: Anson 2006.
57 Carney 2019a: 76; 2010a: 416; Müller 2007. On Persian royal women’s funds: Brosius 1996: 123–​82. On
Eurydike and Iphikrates: Carney 2019a: 38–​40, 64–​7; Müller 2016: 226–​7; Mortensen 1992: 157–​9.
58 Angiò 2018. On the rite de passage: Hatzopoulos 1994: 73–​85.
59 Carney 2010b: 46; 2006: 96–​101. However, Asirvatham 2001: 95–​6 argues that Plutarch uses an image
of Olympias’ “depraved religion” to delineate the Hellenic from Alexander.
60 Carney 2019b. Pace O’Neil 1999: 2.
61 Ogden 1999: xix–​xxi, 8–​9; Ogden 2011: 102–​4.
62 Carney 2019b: 391–​5.
63 On Perdikkas II see Ogden 2017: 157–​86. He thinks that Phila is the real name of Simiche, Archelaos’
mother (Pl. Grg. 471a–​c;Ail. VH 12.43). See however Müller 2017: 246–​60. On Archelaos: Whitehorne
1994: 21–​3, 27–​8. Cf. Carney 2019: 375–​6; Psoma 2012: 76; Ogden 2011: 94; Carney 2000: 21–​2;
Ogden 1999: 8–​10, 23–​4; Macurdy 1932: 15–​16. It is debated whether Kleopatra was an uncommon
name. See Carney 2000: 22. Ptolemy and Eurydike are discussed in Carney 2019a: 35–​44; Müller
2016: 224–​6.
64 Madreiter 2012: 55–​6, 92–​3 doubts the historicity of Persian royal incestuous marriages. Even the
single case of a consanguinous Argead marriage—​between Archelaos’ daughter and her half-​brother
(Arist. Pol. 1311b)—​is debated. According to an emendation of the passage in question, it was no sibling
marriage: Roisman 2010: 158; Hammond and Griffith 1979: 169; Macurdy 1932: 14.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

BNJ Worthington, I. (ed.) Brill’s New Jacoby [online] https://​referenceworks.brillonline.com/​browse/​

brill-​s-​new-​jacoby (accessed June 30, 2020).

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Hatzopoulos, M.B. 1986. “Succession and Regency in Classical Macedonia.” Archaia Makedonia 4: 272–​92.
Hatzopoulos, M.B. 1994. Cultes et rites de passage en Macédoine. Athens.
Heinrichs, J. 2017. “Coins and Constructions.” In S. Müller et. al. (eds.), The History of the Argeads: New
Perspectives. Wiesbaden, 79–​98.
Heinrichs, J. and Müller, S. 2008.“Ein persisches Statussymbol auf Münzen Alexanders I. von Makedonien.”
Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 167: 283–​309.
Heckel, W. 1981. “Polyxena, the Mother of Alexander the Great.” Chiron 11, 79–​86.
Heckel, W. 1983. “Adea-​Eurydike.” Glotta 61: 40–​2.
Heckel, W. 1983–​4. “Kynnane the Illyrian.” Rivista storica dell’Antichità 13/​14: 193–​200.
Heckel, W. 2006. Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Oxford.
Kosmetatou, E. 2004. “Rhoxane’s Dedications to Athena Polias.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik
146: 75–​80.
Landucci Gattinoni, F. 2003. L’arte del potere. Stuttgart.
Lewis, R. 2004. Rethinking Orientalism. London and New York.
Macurdy, G.H. 1927.“Queen Eurydice and the Evidence for Woman-​Power in Early Macedonia.” American
Journal of Philology 48, 201–​14.
Macurdy, G.H. 1932. Hellenistic Queens. Baltimore and London.
Madreiter, I. 2012. Stereotypisierung –​ Idealisierung –​ Indifferenz. Wiesbaden.
Meyer, E.A. 2013. The Inscriptions of Dodona and a New History of Molossia. Stuttgart.
Mitchell, L.G. 2012. “The Women of Ruling Families in Archaic and Classical Greece.” Classical Quarterly
62: 1–​21.
Mortensen, K. 1992. “Eurydice: Demonic or Devoted Mother?” Ancient History Bulletin 6, 156–​71.
Müller, S. 2007. “Im Interesse des oikos: Handlungsräume der antiken makedonischen Königinnen”
Feministische Studien 2: 258–​70.
Müller, S. 2015. “A History of Misunderstandings? Macedonian Politics and Persian Prototypes in Greek
Polis-​Centered Perspective.” In R. Rollinger and E. van Dongen (eds.), Mesopotamia in the Ancient World.
Wiesbaden, 459–​80.
Müller, S. 2016. Die Argeaden. Geschichte Makedoniens bis zum Zeitalter Alexanders des Großen. Paderborn.
Müller, S. 2017a. Perdikkas II. –​Retter Makedoniens. Berlin.
Müller, S. 2017b. “The Symbolic Capital of the Argeads.” In S. Müller et al. (eds.), The History of the
Argeads: New Perspectives. Wiesbaden, 183–​98.
Ogden, D. 1999. Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death: The Hellenistic Dynasties. London.
Ogden, D. 2011. “The Royal Families of Argead Macedon and the Hellenistic World.” In B. Rawson (ed.),
A Companion to Families in the Greek and Roman World. Oxford, 92–​107.
Ogden, D. 2017. The Legend of Seleucus: Kingship, Narrative and Mythmaking in the Ancient World. Oxford.
Olbrycht, M.J. 2010. “Macedonia and Persia.” In J. Roisman and I. Worthington (eds.), A Companion to
Ancient Macedonia. Oxford, 342–​69.
O’Neil, J.L. 1999. “Olympias: ‘The Macedonians Will Never Let Themselves Be Ruled by a Woman.’”
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Palagia, O. 2010. “Philip’s Eurydice in the Philippeum at Olympia.” In E.D. Carney and D. Ogden (eds.),
Philip II and Alexander the Great. Oxford, 33–​42.
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Perspectives. Wiesbaden, 151–​161.
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11: 73–​87.
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22: 237–​79.

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26
WOMEN IN ANTIGONID
MONARCHY
Elizabeth D. Carney

Introduction
This chapter tries to understand why the prominent role of women in Antigonid monarchy,
initially a model for competing dynasties, narrowed after the death of Demetrios Poliorketes,
reversing the general trend in other dynasties, despite the persistence of a number of simi-
larities between the role of third-​and second-​century BCE Antigonid women and that of
women in other Hellenistic royal houses.1 The chapter also considers how some inscriptional
evidence complicates this perception of a relatively limited role for royal women in Antigonid
Macedonian monarchy.

The Antigonids before Demetrios Poliorketes’ loss of Macedonia in 288

Antigonos Monophthalmos (I) and his son Demetrios Poliorketes (I) were the first of Alexander’s
Successors to receive cult (c. 311/​310)2 and also the first, in 306, to have their friends (philoi)
acclaim each of them with a royal title (basileus), one justified by their military success (Diod.
20.53.2–​4; Plut. Demetr. 18.1–​2; App. Syr. 54).3 Thus, father and son became kings at the same
time and a number of Alexander’s other former generals soon followed, typically doing so
after a victory. For years father and son served as models, inventors really, of many aspects of
Hellenistic monarchy. Demetrios, in particular, developed the stagecraft of Hellenistic monarchy
by splendid display, by his many wives and women, and by his military boldness, ever rico-
cheting between victory, defeat, and recovery.
However, after the massive Antigonid defeat at Ipsos in 301 left Antigonos dead on the battle-
field and Demetrios on the run (Diod. 21.1.4b; Plut. Demetr 29.1–​30.1), despite Demetrios’
rapid if comparatively brief return to prominence and apparent stability during his rule over
Macedonia (294–​88 BCE; Plut. Demetr. 37.1–​2, 39.1–​44.7), the Antigonids no longer served
as models for the other monarchies. When Demetrios’ son, Antigonos (II) Gonatas, finally
established himself as king of Macedonia c. 277 (Just. 25.1.1–​2.7; Diog. Laert. 17.141), after
years of struggle and uncertainty (some of which persisted even later),4 he created a monarchy
in which women played a narrower role in the public presentation of monarchy and in the
public politics of the dynasty than they had in Argead times, earlier in Antigonid rule, and in
virtually all the other Hellenistic dynasties.5

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Initially, as with male Antigonids, at least until Demetrios Poliorketes’ loss of Macedon, the
public role and activities of Antigonid women also established precedents and models for other
Hellenistic royal women. Phila I, the first married of Demetrios’ wives,6 along with some of
Demetrios’ mistresses (Ath. 253a–​b), received the first cult attested for a royal woman (Ath.
254a, 255c).7 Phila is also the first woman attested with the title basilissa, c. 305: this happens in
a Samian decree (Syll3 333.6–​7) honoring a certain Demarchos, who is referred to as a guard
in basilissa Phila’s entourage.8 Though Demetrios had children by other women, Phila was the
mother of Demetrios’ heir Antigonos Gonatas and of Stratonike II, future wife of Seleukos
I and Antiochos I (Plut. Demetr. 53.4).
No inscription currently securely attests that Stratonike I, the wife of Antigonos I,9 was
called basilissa, but granted that her daughter-​in-​law Phila was referred to by this title by c. 305,
it seems possible that Stratonike was as well, given that her husband and son took the title
basileus at the same time. A Delian inscription from c. 300 refers to an agalma (“image,” prob-
ably a sacred image) of Stratonike on Delos; this was more likely an indication of a cult for
Stratonike’s granddaughter, but it could possibly have been one dedicated to Stratonike I (OGI
XI.4.415).10 This paralleling, a kind of twinning, of the public presentation of royal males by that
of royal females was quickly imitated by the other Successors.
Neither Phila nor Stratonike appeared in front of armies, led them, or went into battle (as
some late Argead women did),11 though their husbands were perpetually at war. Both women
did play a role behind the scenes in the military activities of their respective husbands. Phila
and her mother-​in-​law, Stratonike I, were accompanied by a force of bodyguards (Syll3 333.6ff;
Diod. 19.16.1–​5), as were kings.12 Granted the extensive lands and cities in Asia, the islands,
and the Greek mainland that their husbands controlled or hoped to, both women stayed near
their husbands’ troops, supervising and safeguarding supplies and/​or wealth. When Antigonos
I fell in battle at Ipsos in Phrygia in 301, Stratonike I was in Kilikia, protecting their valuables
(wealth), but was rescued by her son (Diod. 21.1.4b). Phila sent royal robes and goods to her
husband during the siege of Rhodes (Diod. 20.93.4; Plut. Demetr. 22.1) and served as a patron
of Demetrios’ troops and their families (Diod. 19.59.4).
Like later Argead women, both women took part in politics and political schemes. Their
marriages played a part in alliances and political maneuvers. Stratonike I followed her husband,
who had become satrap of Phrygia, to Asia Minor, living near Kelaenae in Phrygia. In 319,
Stratonike involved herself in an intrigue with a certain Dokimos (a captured former supporter
of her husband’s enemy Perdikkas). Apparently, she plotted with Dokimos to enable his escape,
thus temporarily guaranteeing his loyalty to the Antigonids, to whom he then betrayed his
former allies, though Stratonike did turn Dokimos over to guards, probably her own guards
(Diod. 19.16.1–​5). We know nothing certain about Stratonike’s family.13
Antipatros, the father of Phila I, was the most prominent of the generals of Alexander until
his death in 319 and had ruled Macedonia during Alexander’s long absence. Antipatros arranged
three marriages for Phila, each serving his political ends. She supposedly advised her father,
even as a young girl (Diod. 19.59.5). Phila also engaged in diplomacy between her husband and
her brother Kassandros, men who were often at odds (Plut. Demetr. 37.3). Demetrios was later
accepted as king in Macedonia in good part because she was Antipatros’ daughter and her son
was Antipatros’ grandson (Plut. Demetr. 37.3).
Both Stratonike I and Phila I shared in the disasters of their male kin, as had Adea Eurydike
and Olympias. After the Ipsos defeat and her husband’s death, Stratonike and Demetrios sailed
to Salamis, on Kypros, still an Antigonid possession (Diod. 21.1.4b). Later, in 297, Ptolemy
besieged and took Salamis, and Stratonike and some of Demetrios’ children were captured,
but Ptolemy subsequently freed them and sent them back to with gifts and honors, probably

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in connection to the marriage of Demetrios’ daughter Stratonike II to Seleukos (Plut. Demetr.

35.5, 38.1). Presumably Stratonike I died not long thereafter. Phila, after her husband was forced
to give up rule of Macedonia and flee, killed herself rather than submit to further humiliation
(Plut. Demetr. 45.1).
Since the days of Philip II, royal marriages, those of royal daughters as well as those of the
kings themselves, played an important part in creating the dynastic image (see p. 313). Indeed,
Demetrios was able to regain a considerable part of his power and status because Seleukos asked
for Demetrios and Phila’s daughter, Stratonike II, in marriage. Demetrios and Phila I took part
in a ceremony in several stages, accompanied by his fleet, across several regions, one that brought
together the former enemies (Plut. Demetr. 31.3–​32.2).The bride, having first married Seleukos
I, later married Seleukos’ son Antiochos I. She continued, however, to maintain an Antigonid
identity, as several inscriptions at Delos attest, an identity that stressed the royal status of both
her father and mother.14
The later Argeads, at the very least, had been polygamous, Philip II notoriously, arguably
extravagantly so. Antigonos I and Demetrios I, though father and son, presented very different
public images in respect to marriage. Stratonike I is the only known wife of Antigonos; he was
apparently monogamous, as the last Argead kings had not been.15 Demetrios, however, was pol-
ygamous on a grand scale, perhaps in imitation of Philip II, though certainly in order to achieve
various political aims. He married the Athenian Eurydike (307),16 Deidameia the daughter
of Aiakides the king of Molossia, the sister of Pyrrhos,17 Lanassa the daughter of Agathokles
and former wife of Pyrrhos (303),18 and, after the death of Phila (287), Ptolemais a daughter
of Ptolemy,19 and he possibly also wed an Illyrian woman.20 Demetrios may additionally have
contemplated marriage to Kratesipolis, widow of Alexander, son of Polyperchon (Plut. Demetr.
9.3).21 According to Plutarchos, Lanassa said that she had heard that Demetrios, of all the kings,
was most inclined to marry wives (Plut. Demetr. 10.5).
In addition, Demetrios spent much time, publicly, with several well-​known courtesans, some
of whom received cult, much as Phila did. He had children by a number of these women, in
addition to his son and daughter by Phila. As Plutarchos says (Demetr. 14.2), Phila may have
been the most prestigious of his wives (and the only one known as basilissa), but several of his
other wives and even courtesans, most famously Lamia,22 participated in public ceremonies and
events. Lanassa, for instance, may have played Demeter to Demetrios’ Dionysos in a ceremony in
Athens (Douris BNJ 76 F 13). Plutarchos is perhaps correct in saying that he gave neither Phila
nor any of the other women much timé (“honor” or “respect;” Plut. Demetr. 14.2–​3).The multi-
tude of Demetrios’ wives and courtesans, much like his golden and purple cloak (Plut. Demetr.
41.4), embodied the splendor of his rule.

Reconstituted Antigonid rule, based in Macedonia

After the collapse of Demetrios’ fortunes, many aspects of the dynastic image he and his father
had generated did not endure, though some did persist despite Demetrios’ humiliating final
years. Though Demetrios had further brief success after his departure from Macedonia, he
ended his days as prisoner of his son-​in-​law Antiochos (Plut. Demetr. 50.5–​52.4). There were
no more purple and gold cloaks for him, though his son Antigonos Gonatas, in keeping with
the now established tradition of family loyalty, particularly between father and son, arranged
as grand a funeral as possible in the circumstances (Plut. Demetr. 53.1–​3). Plutarchos highlights
the closeness of the Antigonids, noting that (with one exception) they did not kill each other
(unlike the other dynasties) and that Antigonos and his son were very close. Demetrios I, for
instance, he says, agreed to marry Phila only because it was his father’s wish (Plut. Demetr. 3.1–​4,

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14.2–​3). Whether or not any Antigonids after Demetrios I and Antigonos I were literally co-​
kings,23 they did display remarkable cohesion. The identity of the successor seems always to
have been clear, apart from the dispute involving the two sons of Philip V, caused or at least
exacerbated by Roman interference.24
Antigonid monarchy differed considerably from Argead monarchy. It continued, however,
to be heavily dependent on the Macedonian elite (court and local); it is no accident that the
Romans, at the time of conquest, attempted to destroy that group (Liv. 45.18, 29, 30.3–​8.32;
Diod. 31.8.1–​9; Just. 33.2.7).25 Antigonos Gonatas, though a loyal son, seemed consciously to
reject aspects of his father’s flamboyant and expansive kingship, notably the prominence of royal
women.26 Later sources (accepted by some modern scholars) have doubtless exaggerated to
make Gonatas the perfect, moderate philosopher king and his father the opposite,27 but it seems
clear that the supposed “glorious servitude” ascribed to Gonatas (Ael. V.H. 2.20) did not include
much political activity by his wife. This proved to be a precedent.
Many of the changes in Macedonian monarchy that happened after 277 tended to define
and institutionalize the role of royal women yet, effectively, to limit it, whether unintentionally
or (more likely) intentionally. Whereas the Philippeion, the monument Philip II had erected at
Olympia after his great victory at Chaironeia, contained images of the women as well as the
men of the dynasty (and, so likely, did another monument once visible near Vergina/​Aigai),28
and other Hellenistic dynasties were represented by mixed-​gender family groups and married
royal pairs, the progonoi (ancestors) monument erected at Delos, probably by Antigonos Gonatas,
apparently housed only images of a god and a number of men, but no women.29 Images of
Antigonid women existed in various places, including Delos, but they are omitted from the
public face of the collective dynasty portrayed on Delos.

The growth of royal monogamy and the narrow presentation of

Antigonid monarchy
Antigonos I’s apparent and public monogamy rather than his son’s attention-​g rabbing pol-
ygamy became the dominant Antigonid model, one probably rejected by Demetrios II, though
he was more discretely polygamous than his grandfather Poliorketes. With few cases of mul-
tiple wives and fewer yet of multiple sons contesting for the throne, royal mothers had little
need to function as succession advocates. Consequently they did not acquire the power and
importance related to such advocacy. Royal monogamy limited the size of the royal family; the
Antigonids remained a comparatively small group, very different from what for so long seemed
the sprawling and seemingly vast Argead royal house, with its unending array of claimants to
the throne. Loyalty was easier to come by when there were fewer candidates for the throne to
compete for it.
Moreover, whereas Eurydike, widow of Amyntas III, and Olympias, widow of Philip II,
acquired power and developed public personae because they served as advocates for child kings,
only one Antigonid, Philip V, became king as a child (he was 9 years old when Demetrios II died
in 229). His mother Chryseis (see below, p. 311) developed little in the way of a public persona
because Antigonus Doson (an Antigonid cousin of Philip V) married her and served as her son’s
guardian and as king until Doson died when Philip V was barely adult; Doson had promised not
to raise any sons he might have by Chryseis, thus preventing a succession crisis (Just. 28.3.9–​16,
4.16; Paus. 7.7.4–​5; Plut. Aem. 8.1–​4; Euseb. Chron. 1.237–​8; Etym. Mag. s.v. “Doson”).
One might expect that the one fairly clear case of post-​Demetrios Poliorketes polygamy, that
of Demetrios II, would have caused troubles with the succession, but it did not. Though some
have considered Demetrios II a serial monogamist, the evidence strongly indicates that he was

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married to more than one woman at the same time.30 Demetrios II first married Stratonike
III, the daughter of Antiochos I and Stratonike II, daughter of Demetrios I, while his father
Antigonos Gonatas was still alive, in the mid-​250s. Stratonike III had no sons by Demetrios,
though she may have had a daughter, Apama, who later married Prusias II of Bithynia.31 In 245
or 244, Antigonos Gonatas instructed his son to marry Nikaia, the widow of their treacherous
kinsman Alexander, who had inherited control of the great citadel of Korinthos. Antigonos used
this trick marriage to gain control of Korinthos.32 Though the marriage was a sham, it does
seem to have happened (Polyaen. 4.6.1; Plut. Arat. 17.2–​4). Possibly Demetrios divorced Nikaia,
who was probably past childbearing years anyway, but in any case, Demetrios still had no son
and possibly no daughter either.
Shortly after the death of Antigonos Gonatas in spring 239, Demetrius married Phthia, the
daughter of Alexander II of Epirus and his sister-​wife Olympias II. Olympias II had offered
her daughter to Demetrios after her husband’s death; she had two young sons and the Aitolians
threatened invasion. Justin (28.1.1–​4) specifically asserts that, at the time of his marriage to
Phthia, Demetrios already had a wife (i.e. Stratonike) and that Stratonike left Macedonia for the
court of her brother, as though she had been divorced. Athenian inscriptions dated to 236/​235
and 235/​234 refer to a basilissa of basileus Demetrios; though the basilissa’s name is damaged, of
the names of any known wives of Demetrios II, only Phthia’s fits the space in these inscriptions.
Thus, they appear to confirm that Phthia had married Demetrios by 236/​235 and, since these
inscriptions also refer to her children, they also imply that she had married him at least a year
before.
Philip V, the son of Demetrios II, was born c. 238/​237 (Polyb. 4.5.3, 24.1), yet several sources
name the mother of Philip V as Chryseis, a Thessalian war captive (Euseb. Chron. 1/​237–​8;
Etym. Mag. s.v. “Doson;” Synkellos 535.19). Chryseis was certainly not a king’s daughter, prob-
ably not a courtesan, though possibly a concubine before she was a wife.33 After Demetrios’
death in 229, when Antigonos Doson became Philip V’s guardian and also king, he married
Chryseis. Chryseis’ status is confirmed by Polybios’ account of her generous contribution to
the Rhodians after the terrible earthquake of 222 (Polyb. 5.89.7). Polybios lists the donations of
other Hellenistic kings, but the only royal pair, though giving separately, are Antigonos Doson
and Chryseis.
Though many scholars have argued that Phthia and Chryseis were the same person, no
ancient source connects these two names and all these arguments appear to have developed
because of a refusal to recognize that Demetrios may have been married to three or four
women at the same time, primarily because he was desperate for a male heir.34 Whereas
Philip II, Alexander, and Demetrios Poliorketes practiced polygamy successfully for political
reasons and a kind of royal display, Demetrios II’s polygamy seems to have caused some political
problems and happened for quite different reasons.
This appears to be the only fairly clear case of Antigonid polygamy after Poliorketes, though
there may have been more. Philip V’s rival sons had different mothers, but this does not neces-
sarily mean that he was polygamous, though neither does it prevent it.35

Basilissa and the ranking of royal wives

Even if there is only one relatively certain example of Antigonid royal polygamy from this
period, one immediately wonders if these wives were ranked in some formal way and, if so,
whether the application of the title basilissa related to some sort of ranking. Ranking of royal
wives in the Argead era had been situational, particularly since there was, at that time, no female
royal title. Granted the tiny number of inscriptions referring to Antigonid wives, the fact that

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only in a few cases do we have reason to suspect polygamy, and that we cannot be certain it
was a title exclusive to one woman within Antigonid realms (for instance, elsewhere king’s
daughters as well as kings’ wives were termed basilissa; in the case of polygamy, do we know for
certain that, in all dynasties, at all periods, only one wife could be basilissa?), currently the title
of basilissa is too rare an occurrence in extant evidence to offer help in terms of the ranking
of royal wives. As we have observed, Phila I, wife of Demetrios Poliorketes, is the only of his
wives for whom there is inscriptional evidence confirming that she was basilissa. Phila II, wife
of Antigonos Gonatas, appears as basilissa in a Kassandreian inscription,36 but she was his only
known wife. As we have noted, Phthia is almost certainly the basilissa of Demetrios II referred
to in Athenian inscriptions, but we cannot be certain whether Stratonike III ever had the title,
or Chryseis (while she was Demetrios’ wife, if she was), for that matter. Delian inventories call
Phthia basilissa, but mention her father, not her husband, and so could date to a time before
her marriage or after she was widowed (ID 407.20, 443B.137, 444B, 461B.46). Laodike, wife of
Perseus, does appear as basilissa (IG X 4, 1074), but she was Perseus’ only wife and was a king’s
daughter.37 Thus, based on current evidence and the knowledge that basilissa was not necessarily
the title of every king’s wife, at most, one might consider evidence for its usage in Antigonid
Macedonia suggestive in terms of ranking, but only that.

Antigonid marriage alliances

Granted that royal polygamy had declined but did not exactly disappear in Hellenistic
Macedonia, one might wonder whether the choice of Antigonid wives indicates a policy or
persistent pattern, as certainly happened, at least at times, in other dynasties.38 There is indeed
one persistent pattern: intermarriage with the Seleukid dynasty. Antigonos Gonatas, Demetrios
II, and Perseus all married Seleukids. Demetrios Poliorketes’ daughter Stratonike II first married
Seleukos himself and later his son Antiochos. It is not an accident that we hear of grand wedding
festivals/​processions in connection to several of these marriages (see p. 313); they were presti-
gious international arrangements, typically with significant political aspects.
Antigonids did also marry into other ruling dynasties. Demetrios Poliorketes’ varied
marriages include two royal marriages (to a daughter of Ptolemy and the sister of Pyrrhos) and
perhaps another, if one considers Agathokles of Syracuse royal, since Demetrios married his
daughter Lanassa. Demetrios II married the daughter of an Epeirote king and at least one and
possibly two Antigonid daughters married kings of Bithynia.39
But a surprising number of Antigonids made non-​royal marriages to Greek women, some
from elite families, some not, and it is not clear whether we should count relationships with
courtesans and/​or concubines as marriages. We know of no marriages to Macedonians. As we
have seen, Poliorketes himself married Eurydike of Athens and he may have tried to marry
Kratesipolis, widow of Alexander son of Polyperchon (Plut. Demetr. 9.3–​4); she likely came from
a northern Greek elite family.40 Demetrios II nominally married Nikaia; she also probably came
from an elite Greek family.41 Chryseis was said to be a captive Thessalian, of unknown parentage.
Perhaps most surprising of all is the marriage of Philip V. The mother of his son Perseus was
Polykratia of Argos. She had been married to Aratos the Younger of Sikyon, but hostile tradition
says she began an affair with Philip V and ultimately, probably after the death of her husband, in
hope of a royal marriage (that probably did happen) she went to Macedonia with Philip V and
likely became the mother of Perseus. Polykratia was probably from an elite house, once in ser-
vice to the Ptolemies.42 We do not know the identity of Philip’s son Demetrios’ mother, though
she too was probably Greek.

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A number of women our sources consider courtesans were associated with some of the
Antigonids. Poliorketes, for instance, was famously infatuated with Lamia, and had a child by
her (Ath. 13.577c). Antigonos Gonatas had a son, Halkyoneus, probably by a concubine named
Demo; it is telling that he apparently did not even bother to marry or have a son by a more elite
woman, until he had gained control of Macedonia.43 Granted the tendency of ancient sources
to attack a male by imputing the status and sexual purity of his mother, and yet the undoubted
existence of royal courtesans who may be concubines, by whom kings fathered children, sorting
fact from political innuendo is often impossible.44 Whatever the status of Antigonid brides, the
Antigonids consistently married outside of Macedonia, excepting Phila I.

Wedding festivals
Philip II had turned the wedding of his daughter Kleopatra into a grand international affair
and festival, one that became a model for Hellenistic kings (Diod. 16. 91.4–​93.2): these festivals
often commemorated political alliances, confirmed or created the public personae of the men
involved, flaunted and yet shared the wealth of the kings, served a variety of religious purposes,
staged dynastic rule, and involved the general (already present and invited) public in the drama
of dynasty. After the conquests of Alexander and the establishment of the Hellenistic dynasties,
brides and their families often traveled great distances; this necessity transformed the marriage
into a royal progress over large areas of the Mediterranean world, an embodiment of a marriage
alliance.45
These weddings functioned as a kind of index of Antigonid monarchy, their rise and fall
and rise again indicating Antigonid ambitions and their success or failure. Demetrios I was,
unsurprisingly, inclined to wedding display. Antigonid fortunes revived when Seleukos asked
to marry Stratonike II, daughter of Demetrios and Phila I: Demetrios sailed to Syria with his
daughter and his fleet, stopping to conquer lands and plunder along the coast. Phila joined
him at some point. He met Seleukos; they traded banquets and spent much time together in
public and private (Plut. Demetr.31.3–​32.3). Demetrios’ wedding to Lanassa included a cele-
bration in Athens that not only honored him as a god accessible to the Athenians, but may
also have involved an understanding of Lanassa as an embodiment of Demeter (Ath. 6.253c–​
f).46 Though Phila II must have traveled to Macedonia for her marriage to Antigonos Gonatas,
their wedding, as far as we know, though hymned by Aratos of Soli (Suda s.v. “Aratos”), may
have been consciously localized, tied to Gonatas’ initial celebration of the traditional basileia
festival, thus connected to his portrayal of himself a restorer of tradition.47 An even more
localized purpose was served by the “trick” wedding of Nikaia: the Panhellenic festival, lyre
playing and singing, royal guard, and luxurious litter of Nikaia enabled her supposed father-​
in-​law to distract her and seize her citadel (Polyaen. 4.6.1; Plut. Arat. 17.2–​5). Obscurity then
descends on Antigonid weddings until the two that were arranged by the last Macedonian
king, Perseus. Perseus, invited by Seleukos to marry his daughter Laodike but treaty-​bound
himself not to travel to Syria, instead had the Rhodian navy, outfitted at his expense, make
the trip to bring his bride, attended by dignitaries, to Macedonia; each sailor received a
golden crown and timber for ships (Polyb. 25.3.8–​9; App. Mac. 11.2; Livy 42.12.4). In add-
ition, Perseus gave his sister to Prusias II of Bithynia, at the request of Prusias (Livy 42.12.1–​
3; App. Mith. 12.1.2). According to these sources, Perseus’ enemy Eumenes of Pergamon
portrayed these marriages as, in effect, signs of an anti-​Roman coalition. These last marriages
did Perseus no lasting good, but underline how politically significant international wedding
festivals had become.

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Cults and royal women

Though the Antigonids had effectively founded Hellenistic ruler cult, once established in the
rule of Macedonia, they neither had nor developed state cults, unlike other Hellenistic dyn-
asties.48 Antigonos Gonatas supposedly did not encourage his own worship, but inscriptions
demonstrate that there were in fact cults to him in Athenian territory and perhaps elsewhere.
Some Antigonids may have received lifetime cult in a few Macedonian cities.49 Compared to
the other dynasties, the Antigonids founded few cities, and so opportunities for eponymous
foundations were limited, whereas the other dynasts named or renamed many cities after them-
selves or family members, including the women of their family. City founders received cult and
so possibly, did, the eponyms. In Thessaly, Demetrios I founded Demetrias and received cult
there (Strab. 9.5.15. 436C; IG IX.2,1099b and 1129). Demetrios II did, however, found a city
and name it “Phila” after his mother Phila II (Steph. Byz. s.v. “Phila”).50
Some Antigonid women received cult outside Macedonia. Aside from the cults to Phila
I attested for Athens, there was a civic cult to a Phila at Samos, more likely to Phila II the
wife of Antigonos Gonatas, but possibly to Phila I.51 A Delian inscription refers to a cult of
Stratonike, likely the daughter of Demetrios Poliorketes, but possibly his mother (OGI XI
4.415 = IG 11.4.415).52 We know of no cult of Antigonid women in Macedonia itself.

Euergetism and piety

Little evidence survives about Antigonid women’s euergetism, but enough to suggest that it
existed. Phila II made donations at Delos along with her mother Stratonike.53 Perhaps the most
spectacular evidence relates to Chryseis, wife of Demetrios II and of Antigonus Doson. After
the terrible earthquake at Rhodes, many Hellenistic dynasts made charitable contributions to
the Rhodians, but only in the case of Doson and Chryseis did both husband and wife give
aid: Chryseis gave large quantities of grain and lead (Polyb. 5.89.7).The Delians praised Laodike,
wife of Perseus, for her piety (presumably manifested by offerings) and erected a statue of her in
thanksgiving (Syll3 639).This same Laodike may have made a dedication to Zeus at the Eukleia
sanctuary at Aigai.54

The sources and their significance

Narrative sources for Macedonia in the Antigonid period are poor—​sometimes non-​existent—​
and, as a result, we are unusually dependent on the relevant lives of Plutarchos and on Justin.
When Roman involvement in Greek and Macedonian affairs begins to grow, Polybios and
others pay attention, but they do so primarily from a Roman point of view, often with great
hostility.Though inscriptions have provided information about Antigonid royal women, most of
these inscriptions, as we have seen, are not Macedonian in origin, but rather Athenian, Delian,
or Samian.
Despite the poor quality and scarcity of relevant sources, one must conclude that Antigonid
women played no direct role in Macedonian power politics; that kind of participation seems
limited to the kings themselves, their sons, and royal philoi. Two inscriptions from Macedonia
itself, however, nuance this conclusion. One interpretation of an enfranchisement document
from Veroia has Phila II listed jointly with her husband Antigonos Gonatas as a guarantor of
slaves’ freedom.55 A Kassandreian inscription, honoring a certain Dorotheos, reveals that Phila
II had men in her entourage who helped to integrate her into the functioning of the kingdom.
The courtier Dorotheos seems to have served as Phila’s liaison to Kassandreians petitioning her,

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on private or public business.56 Royal women, because of their access to kings, had long had an
ability to intercede for those who appealed to them, just as Phila I and Stratonike I had done.
These inscriptions suggest a kind of discrete, but institutionalized power for Phila and, quite
possibly, other Antigonid women. Nothing after the death of Phila I indicates that Antigonid
women played a public role, in power politics, but their ability to influence and grant access, to
link cities to the court, may have been the norm, not an exception.57

Conclusion
The role of women in Argead monarchy initially reflected the expansive nature of the dynasty
and its ambitions. Similarly, the formalized and delimited position of royal women in restored
(i.e. after 277 BCE) and narrowed Antigonid monarchy speaks to a more defined understanding
of monarchic rule in Hellenistic Macedonia both for women and even for men.

Notes
1 All dates are BCE unless stated otherwise.
2 A city cult for Antigonos and Demetrios is attested at Skepsis (OGI 6). Father and/​or son
received a variety of cults at Athens between 307/​306 and 290. See discussion and references in
Landucci 2016.
3 See Paschidis 2013: 129–​32 for a discussion of the assumption of a royal title. See also Billows
1990: 155–​60.
4 See Lane Fox 2011: 495–​519 for a survey of these events.
5 Macurdy 1932: 69 first noted the limited role of Antigonid women, beginning with the reign of
Antigonos Gonatas. On Antigonid women see Macurdy 1932: 58–​80; Ogden 1999: 171–​98; Carney
2000: 179–​202; Harders 2013; Gabelko and Kuzmin 2020.
6 On the career of Phila, see Wehrli 1964; Le Bohec 1993; Carney 2000: 165–​9; Carney 2020; and
Chapters 16 and 27 in this volume.
7 See Chapter 27; Carney 2000: 218–​19. Based on the Athenaios passages, the cults to the courtesans
were apparently civic cults of the Athenians and Thebans; a philos of the Antigonids set up a private cult
to Phila, but the context of the passage implies the existence of a civic cult as well. Ogden 2009: 357
unconvincingly argued that Lamia’s daughter Phila is the one referred to in the passage.
8 Robert 1946: 17, n. 1. An Ephesian decree (Ephesus II, 3) which honors a Melesippos, said to be part of
what appears to be basilissa Phila’s court or entourage, was originally dated to c. 300/​299, but Robert
1946: 17, ns. 1–​2, argued for a date close to that of the Samian decree; Wehrli 1964: 142 accepted this
view. Paschidis 2008: 387–​9 dates the Samian decree to c. 299, though he also seems to agree that it is
the earliest evidence for the female title. His dating is not convincing. See further Chapters 16 and 27
in this volume and Carney forthcoming.
9 On Stratonike I, see Macurdy 1932: 62, 64–​6; Billows 1990: 9, 17, 29, 40, 235, 263; Heckel 2006: 258.
10 Billows 1990: 235 n. 118 prefers to attribute it to the widow of Antigonos I.
11 Ath. 560 f.; Diod. 19.11.23; Polyaen. 8.60; Arr. FGrH 156 F 9.22). See further Chapter 25 in this
volume.
12 Billows 1990: 263, n. 42, assumes that the man referred to in this passage was one of Stratonike’s own
bodyguards. So also Paschidis 2008: 268, n. 2.
13 See Billows 1990: 17, n. 5 for discussion of the (unproven) possibility that they were connected to
the Argeads. A daughter of Alexander I had the same name (Thuc. 2.101.6), but this is hardly strong
support.“Stratonike” was also supposedly one of the names or epithets of Olympias (Plut. Mor. 401a–​b).
14 See Carney 2000: 172, 227; Chapter 16 in this volume.
15 Stratonike likely married Antigonos soon after 340, granted that her elder son Demetrios was born
about 336. Her younger son, Philip, died early (Plut. Demetr. 2.1–​3). In this same passage, Plutarchos
reveals that some authors assert that Demetrios was actually the son of Antigonos’ brother and that,
after the brother’s death, he married the widow and so people called Demetrios his son rather than his
nephew.

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16 She came from a famous Athenian family and was the widow of Ophellas of Kyrene. She had a son,
Korrhagos, by Demetrios. Plutarchos says that the Athenians were happy about the marriage (Plut.
Demetr. 14.1–​2). Ogden 1999: 175.
17 She was, therefore, the great niece of Olympias, Alexander’s mother, and had once been engaged to
Alexander IV (Plut. Demetr. 25, 32, 53, Pyrrh. 4). Her marriage relates to Demetrios’ alliance with
Pyrrhos, in opposition to Kassandros. Deidameia died soon after, in 299/​298. On Deidameia, see
Wehrli 1964: 142–​4; Ogden 1999: 175.
18 Whereas her father had arranged her first marriage, Lanassa herself ended it and, wanting another royal
marriage, chose Demetrios (Plut. Pyrrh. 9.1, 10.5). See Ogden 1999: 175–​6; Carney 2000: 169–​71.
19 Plut. Demetr. 32.3, 46.3; Macurdy 1932; Ogden 1999: 176.
20 Ogden 1999: 176. Ptolemais had a son by Demetrios, Demetrios “the Fair” (Plut. Demetr. 53.4).
Plutarchos, in this same passage, says that Demetrios also had a son, another Demetrios, by an unnamed
Illyrian woman. Ogden considers her a wife. Significantly, Plutarchos, in listing all of Demetrios’ chil-
dren, mentions this son, but not Lamia’s daughter by Demetrios (Ath. 13.557c), but Ogden 1999: 176
argues that Plutarchos simply omitted her name rather than that he chose not to name her because he
considered her illegitimate.
21 Wheatley 2004 considers down-​dating the supposed episode but accepts it as historical, though his
own discussion seems to bring its historicity into question.
22 Plut. Demetr. 24.1. See Ogden 1999: 263–​4 for further references. Wheatley 2003 is useful in context-
ualizing Plutarchos’ reference to her.
23 See discussion in Landucci 2016.
24 For discussion and references, see King 2018: 256.
25 See Ma 2011. On courts generally, see Chapter 28 in this volume.
26 Demetrios created a public image of himself and his rule, not always a successful one, but cer-
tainly one misunderstood or twisted by later writers who objected to Macedonian monarchy and
employed sources originally generated by Demetrios’ enemies, which were then further manipulated
by Plutarchos and others to their own ends (e.g. Plutarchos’ need to have Demetrios’ career parallel
Mark Antony’s). See Tatum 1996; Thronemann 2005; Müller 2010. Plutarchos’ Life of Demetrios is
inevitably an important source for Antigonid rule and makes compelling reading, but it is highly
unreliable.
27 See Müller 2010; Landucci 2016: 45–​8.
28 Paus. 5.17.4, 20.9–​10. For the monument at Aigai, see Saatsoglou-​Paliadeli 2000: 397–​400.
29 See Carney 2007: 78–​81, especially ns. 93–​7, for this Antigonid monument and for those of other
dynasties, differently configured. Whereas some dynasties constructed monuments which commem-
orate both men and women (e.g. the Mausoleum), others, like this Antigonid stoa, seem only to have
commemorated males and the divine founder.The statues the monument once displayed are long gone,
but cuttings (not all are present) indicate only male images were present. It is not certain that Antigonos
Gonatas created the monument, but likely. See also Landucci 2016: 50–​1.
30 See Gabelko and Kuzmin 2020 for a very different reading of Demetrios II and the context and chron-
ology of his marriages. See also Chapters 15 and 16 in this volume.
31 Carney 2000: 184–​7.
32 Carney 2000: 188–​9.
33 Ogden 1999: 179–​81 believes that she was a courtesan; even if we assume, as he does, that she was
given her name only after she became a captive, in apparent imitation of the Iliad, and even if we
agree that it was a name common among courtesans, the Homeric story itself—​Chryseis is the war
prize of a “king,” her father offers rich compensation for her (see Chapter 23 in this volume on her
father’s status), and her father is a priest—​could mean simply that she was a concubine, a war prize of
Demetrios, and some sources say that he married her, as Antigonos Doson certainly did.
34 See discussion and references in Ogden 1999: 179; Carney 2000: 184–​93; Lane Fox 2011: 518.
35 Livy 39.53 indicates that Perseus and Demetrios, the two sons of Philip V, did not have the same
mother, and implies that Perseus’ mother was a courtesan or prostitute and not Philip’s legal wife
(mater familias), as was the mother of Demetrios. Livy’s treatment of Perseus is overtly hostile; Perseus’
mother was probably the Argive Polykratia, the former wife of Aratos, and of high birth. See Ogden
1999: 184–​5; Carney 2000: 193–​4.
36 SEG 39.595. See p. 309.
37 On Laodike, see Ogden 1999: 187–​9; Carney 2000: 195–​7.
38 See Chapter 17.

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39 It uncertain whether Apama, daughter of Philip V, married a Prusias of Bithynia or whether Demetrios
II had a daughter by Stratonike and that she married an earlier Prusias of Bithynia. See discussion in
Ogden 1999: 64, 187; Carney 2000: 187, 197.
40 Ogden 1999: 246, though he considers her likely a courtesan, also deduces that she was “nobly born”
since she had married Polyperchon’s son.
41 Carney 2000: 188.
42 See Ogden 1999: 183–​4; Carney 2000: 193–​4. Roman propaganda has so contaminated our sources
that it is difficult to know how to assess evidence about her and her status.
43 On Halkyoneus and Demo, see Ogden 1999: 178–​9; Carney 2000: 181–​2.
44 Ogden 1999: 215–​21 discusses these issues, though in terms of analysis of individual women he is more
inclined than I am to conclude that they were courtesans. See also Ogden 2009.
45 See Carney 2000: 203–​7; Ager 2017.
46 See Landucci 2016: 42–​3, especially n. 17.
47 See Carney 2000: 182–​3, ns. 13–​14.
48 See Mari 2008 and Landucci 2016 for recent overviews.
49 So Mari 2008: 251–​66.
50 On the possible connection between eponymous foundations and cult, see Carney 2000: 207–​9.
51 See Mari 2008: 253, n. 72; Lane Fox 2011: 513.
52 See Carney 2000: 305, n. 71. Billows 1990: 235, n. 118 prefers to identify the cult as that of Antigonos
I’s wife.
53 Bruneau 1970: 546–​50 gives citations.
54 Saatsaglou-​Paliadeli 2000: 389–​92, based on reconstruction of a fragmentary inscription.
55 Hatzopoulos 1990: 144, n. 37; Le Bohec 1993: 245.
56 SEG 39.595. Hatzopoulos 1990: 133–​4; 1996: 2 no. 46; Le Bohec 1993: 244–​5.
57 See Paschidis 2006 on the link between court and civic elites.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, inscriptions, works, and document collections are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
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Llewellyn-​Jones, and S. Wallace (eds.), The Hellenistic Court. Swansea, 165–​88.
Billows, R.A. 1990. Antigonos the One-​Eyed and the Creation of the Hellenistic State. Berkeley.
Bruneau, P. 1970. Recherches sur les cultes de Délos à l’époque hellénistique et à l’ époque impériale. Paris.
Carney, E.D. 2000. Women and Monarchy. Norman, OK.
Carney, E.D. 2007. “The Philippeum, Women, and the Formation of Dynastic Image.” In W. Heckel, L.
Tritle, and P. Wheatley (eds.), Alexander’s Empire: Formulation to Decay. Claremont, CA, 27–​70.
Carney, E.D. forthcoming. “The First Basilissa: Phila, Daughter of Antipater and Wife of Demetrius
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Oxford and New York.
Gabbert, J.J. 1997. Antigonus II Gonatas: A Political Biography. London and New York.
Gabelko, O. and Kuzmin, Y. 2020. “A Case of Stratonices: Two Royal Women between Three Hellenistic
Monarchies.” In R. Oetjen (ed.), New Perspectives in Seleucid History, Archaeology and Numismatics. Berlin
and Boston, 202–​24.
Harders, A.-​C. 2013. “Ein König und viele Königinnen? Demetrios Poliorketes und seine Ehefrauen.” In
C. Kunst (ed.), Matronage: Handlungsstrategien und soziale Netzwerke von Herrscherfrauen im Altertum in
diachroner Perspektive. Rahden, 43–​50.
Hatzopoulos, M.B. 1990. “Un nouveau document du régne d’Antigone Gonatas.” In M.B. Sakellariou
(ed.), Poikilia. Mélétèmata 10. Athens, 133–​47.
Hatzopoulos, M.B. 1996. Macedonia Institutions under the Kings, vols. I and II. Meletemata 22. Athens.
Heckel, W. 2006. Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Oxford and Malden, MA.
King, C.J. 2018. Ancient Macedonia. Abingdon and New York.
Landucci, F. 2016. “The Antigonids and Ruler Cult: Global and Local Perspectives?” Erga Logoi 4: 39–​60.

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Lane Fox, R.J. 2011. “‘Glorious Servitude…’: The Reigns of Antigonos Gonatas and Demetrios II.” In
R.J. Lane Fox (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ancient Macedon. Leiden and Boston, 495–​520.
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Grecques 94: 34–​46.
Le Bohec(-​Bouhet), S. 1987. “L’Entourage royal à la cour des Antigonides.” In E. Lévy (ed.), Le système
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Le Bohec(-​Bouhet), S. 1993. “Les reines de Macédoine de la mort d’Alexandre à celle de Persée.” Cahiers
du Centre Glotz 4: 229–​45.
Ma. J. 2011. “Court, King, and Power in Antigonid Macedonia.” In R.J. Lane Fox (ed.), Brill’s Companion
to Ancient Macedon. Leiden and Boston, 521–​44.
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M.A. Lindner (eds.), Tempelprostituten im Altertum—​Fakten und Fiktionen. Berlin, 344–​76.
Paschidis, P. 2006. “The interpenetration of civic elites and court elite in Macedonia.” In A.-​M. Guimier-​
Sorbets, M.B. Hatzopoulos, and Y. Morizot (eds.), Rois, Cites, Necropoles: Institutions, Rites et Monuments
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Wheatley, P. 2003. “Lamia and the Besieger: An Athenian Hetaera and a Macedonian King.” In O. Palagia
and S.V. Tracey (eds.), The Macedonians in Athens 322–​229 B.C. Oxford, 29–​36.
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PART V

Commonalities
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27
TRANSITIONAL
ROYAL WOMEN
Kleopatra, sister of Alexander the Great,
Adea Eurydike, and Phila

Elizabeth D. Carney

In the wake of Alexander the Great’s conquest of the Persian (Achaimenid) Empire and of his
unexpected early death in 323 BCE,1 his former generals (the Successors) warred against each
other over the empire again and again and began to assume royal titles in 306. By the 280s, they
and their descendants had created three major Hellenistic kingdoms. When Alexander died, the
only surviving male Argeads (the dynasty that had ruled Macedonia since the seventh century
BCE) were Alexander’s mentally disabled half-​brother (Philip Arrhidaios III), his posthumously-​
born son (Alexander IV), and an illegitimate young son (Herakles). Though the Macedonians
soon made Alexander IV and Philip Arrhidaios co-​kings, the lack of an immediately viable
Argead male heir enabled the wars of the Successors but, at the same time, gave greater promin-
ence to Alexander’s female kin.These women had the potential to serve as vehicles of continuity
in the course of transition from the old monarchy to the new ones, from the old dynasty to the
developing ones. In the end, however, all the male Argeads and all but one of the female Argeads
had been murdered by 308, and female members of the Successors’ families (rather than female
Argeads) participated in the articulation of Hellenistic monarchy and dynastic identity.

Introduction
This chapter will examine three women whose careers played critical roles in this transition;
they exemplify the roles of women in monarchy at the end of the Argead monarchy and
the beginning of the Hellenistic period (323–​287). Even before the death of Alexander, the
absences, temporary or permanent, of himself and his father Philip II had already increased the
public role of royal women (the mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters of kings) as succession
advocates or spokespersons or representatives for their male kin, and already made these women
seem more royal, more monarchic.2 After Alexander’s death, royal women came to play a far
more prominent and more institutionalized role in monarchy, though exactly how prominent
and in what ways varied by dynasty and ruler. Each of these kingdoms (and the later developing
smaller ones as well) combined Macedonian monarchic tradition with the monarchic traditions
of the regions now encompassed in the new realms. Hellenistic monarchy was not, however,
merely a consequence of the simple combination of two or more cultures; each dynasty and

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ruler invented and reimagined traditions; Hellenistic monarchy and the situation of women in
each dynasty constantly evolved.

Kleopatra
Kleopatra (c. 354–​c. 308), the daughter of Olympias of Molossia and Philip II, was Alexander’s
only full sister.3 During her brother’s reign she played an unprecedented part in public life and,
after his death, she had the potential, via marriage to one of the Successors, to combine, bio-
logically and politically, the Argead dynasty with one of the newly developing ones. However,
for reasons we shall consider, this eventuality never came to pass.
In 336, when she was probably in her late teens, Philip arranged Kleopatra’s marriage to her
maternal uncle, Alexandros, king of Molossia. Philip staged this wedding as an international
event, highlighting his wealth, power and influence on the eve of his planned invasion of the
Persian Empire (Diod. 16.91.4–​6; Just. 9.6.1–​2); it was the prototype for Hellenistic royal
wedding festivals, like them, turning the private public, an example of Philip’s royal stage-
craft.4 Philip also likely intended that this particular wedding would mend fences with his
son Alexander, Olympias, and with Olympias’ brother, and would project this re-​established
family unity to the rest of the Greek world, whom he had invited. A rift had previously
developed because Alexander’s legitimacy had been questioned during the celebration of
Philip’s seventh marriage (Philip practiced polygyny), precipitating the departure of Olympias
and her son and Olympias’ return to her brother and her native kingdom (Plut. Alex. 9.4–​7;
Just. 9.7. 2–​7; Satyr. ap. Ath. 13.557d–​e). Philip needed to demonstrate that the rift was over;
in the public festivities, he probably paraded between his son and his brother-​in-​law, now
son-​in-​law (Just. 9.6.3), but as Philip was about to enter the theater for a performance, he
was assassinated (Diod. 16.92.1–​94.4). Thus, Kleopatra’s adult life began not simply with
her marriage but with her father’s murder and the consequent struggle for the Macedonian
throne, one her brother won.
The policies of her husband and her brother increased Kleopatra’s prominence in both
Molossia and Macedonia. She and Alexandros had two children together (Plut. Pyrrh. 5.5).
About the same time as Alexander the Great invaded Asia in 334, Alexandros of Molossia
invaded Italy, but was killed while campaigning there c. 331 (Liv. 8. 24.5–​13). Even though
young widows of childbearing age usually remarried quickly, Kleopatra did not remarry after
her husband’s death and showed no interest in doing so until after her brother’s death in 323.
Her failure to remarry—​whether her decision or her brother’s or that of both—​is intriguing.
An anecdote in Plutarchos (Mor. 818b–​c) even imagines her brother approving an extramarital
sexual relationship for her, remarking that she should have some enjoyment or benefit out of
her basileia (kingdom or dominion).
Kleopatra remained in Molossia for about seven years after the demise of her husband. The
Athenians sent her an embassy conveying condolences (Aeschin. 3.242). She received religious
ambassadors (SEG XXIII 198). Kleopatra sold grain to Korinth (Lycurg. Leocr. 26) and was
given (or bought) grain from Kyrene in a time of shortage, probably for Molossia (SEG IX 2).
Her grain activities, like those of her mother (who also received grain from Kyrene), probably
had a political context and may have happened in concert with Alexander’s policies, though the
dates involved remain uncertain.5 She maintained some sort of court and was at least a minor
patron of the arts (Paus. 1.44.6), if not, as far as we know, on the scale of later Hellenistic royal
women. Dionysius, tyrant of Herakleia (a city on the Black Sea), having irritated Alexander,
assumed, apparently rightly, that Kleopatra could intercede successfully with Alexander on his
behalf (Memnon FGrH 434, F 4.37), confirming that she was able to play the role of intercessor

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with the king, as later royal women would. Alexander sent her, as well as his mother, booty from
his campaigns (Plut. Alex. 25.4).
At some point during Alexander the Great’s reign, Kleopatra’s mother Olympias returned to
her native Molossia, having unsuccessfully (at least in the short term) quarreled with Antipatros,
the man Alexander had left in administrative and military control of Macedonia and Greece
(Diod. 18.49.4; Paus. 1.11.3). For a time both women resided in Molossia and then, late in
Alexander’s reign, Kleopatra left Molossia for Macedonia. Plutarchos (Alex. 68.3) asserts that
in the last year or two of Alexander’s reign, upset and desire for change was everywhere pre-
sent and that Olympias and Kleopatra even formed a faction against Antipatros, and Olympias
took (control/​rule of) Molossia whereas Kleopatra took Macedonia (in this passage, Alexander
congratulates his mother on her choice, saying that the Macedonians would never be ruled by
a woman). Another Plutarchos passage (Eum. 3.5) seems to confirm Kleopatra’s change of loca-
tion, since it has her in Pella soon after Alexander’s death. Thus apparently Kleopatra and her
mother engaged in a political struggle with Antipatros, one that would outlast Alexander’s reign.
Our sources are so vague that it is difficult to determine the specifics of the original quarrel.
Still, it appears that Olympias and Kleopatra believed that Antipatros took too much on him-
self, that he was acting too like a king and he, in turn, felt that both were over-​stepping their
roles, whether because they were women or simply because they opposed his actions. Since,
in the last year or so of his reign, Alexander dismissed Antipatros from his post and ordered
him to Babylon (Diod. 17.118.1; Arr. 7.12.5–​7)—​though Antipatros in fact did not obey this
command—​Kleopatra and her mother were gradually winning Alexander over to their point
of view.
Though no documentary source refers to Kleopatra as either guardian for her son or
regent (or to her possibly sharing that role with her mother), the evidence just described
suggests that she functioned in something like these capacities from the time of her husband’s
departure for Italy until she returned to Macedonia c. 324.6 Kleopatra and Olympias appear
on the Cyrene grain inscription only with personal names, no patronymics, whereas all other
names on the list are those of states; on the basis of parallel male usage, this may mean that
they were functioning as heads of state (which is not specified).7 Moreover, though we cer-
tainly cannot say that Kleopatra co-​ruled with her brother, many of her known actions
imply a sharing of power, influence, and decisions with her brother, a role that subsequent
Hellenistic royal women would also play and, in some dynasties, expand, but a role that was
unprecedented at the time.
Alexander’s unexpected death transformed Kleopatra’s life: she and her mother now lacked
physical protection, protection a new husband in command of troops might provide. Potential
grooms seemed to abound. Diodoros, probably repeating the views of the contemporary his-
torian Hieronymos of Kardia, asserted that Kassandros, Lysimachos, Antigonos, and Ptolemy, but
really all the Successors, wanted to marry Kleopatra because of the distinction of her family. He
added that each, in the hope that the Macedonians would follow the lead of this marriage, was
reaching out to the royal house in order to encompass rule over the whole realm for himself
(20.37.4–​6).8 None of them did manage to marry Kleopatra and, not entirely coincidentally,
none of them proved able to control all of Alexander’s empire.9
Soon after Alexander’s death, Kleopatra began to act proactively to pursue her interests, pri-
marily through marriage negotiations, doing so more than once in opposition to prospective
brides from the family of Antipatros. Her marriage politics involved risk and ultimately cost
her life. Diodoros’ diction in the passage just mentioned implies that the generals initiated
marriage talks, but other authors and Diodoros himself (elsewhere) indicate that Kleopatra or
her mother sometimes initiated marriage negotiations themselves. Plutarchos (Eum. 3.5) says

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that, soon after Alexander’s death, Kleopatra had sent letters to Leonnatos summoning him to
Pella in order to marry her; Plutarchos associates Leonnatos’ marriage plans with his desire to
rule Macedonia. Significantly, Antipatros had already offered him a daughter in marriage (Diod.
18.12.1).10 Leonnatos’ death in battle in 322 prevented his marriage to Kleopatra.
Kleopatra then left Macedonia for Asia Minor in order to marry the first regent, Perdikkas,
even though he had already contracted to marry Nikaea, a daughter of Antipatros (and perhaps
had already married her). Arrian (FGrH 156 F 9.21), discussing the effort to arrange a marriage
between Kleopatra and Perdikkas, has Olympias dispatching Kleopatra to Perdikkas, whereas
Justin (13.6.4) says simply that Olympias approved, perhaps implying that Perdikkas initiated
talks. Just possibly Perdikkas offered Kleopatra some sort of administrative appointment as an
incentive.11 Perdikkas’ plan to reject Nikaea, even though he had initially sought her out, in
favor of Kleopatra, alienated Antipatros and others and started a war that ultimately led to
Perdikkas’ defeat and murder in 321 or 320 (Diod. 18.23.1–​3, 25.3; Arr. FGrH 156, F 9.21;
Just. 13.6.4–​8). Whereas Leonnatos’ death on the battlefield was simply a consequence of the
fortunes of war, Perdikkas died as a result not only of poor military and political decisions, but
also and arguably primarily because he had changed his mind and wanted to marry Kleopatra,
thereby insulting Antipatros and threatening his rivals by this distinctive marriage, as well as
offering them an excuse for attack (Diod. 18.23.1–​4, 25.3–​6). In the light of this dynamic, it is
not surprising that we hear of no more specifics about marriage negotiations with Kleopatra
until 308. They may have happened, but the parties involved must have been much more dis-
creet if they did.
After the death of Perdikkas, Kleopatra did not return to Macedonia, but stayed in Asia
Minor. Antipatros, who had crossed to Asia, took over as regent for the two kings. Before
he returned with them to Macedonia, he had a confrontation with Kleopatra c. 320, during
which he reproached her for friendship/​alliance with Perdikkas and Eumenes. Indeed, some
sort of clash between Antipatros and Eumenes had threatened just before, but Kleopatra sent
Eumenes away (possibly he was another would-​be groom as well as ally). In any case, Kleopatra
was not frightened off by Antipatros’ wrath and disapproval; she argued back, apparently in
public, perhaps with Macedonian armies as witness (Plut. Eum. 8.4; Arran FGrH 156, F 11.40).
Intriguingly, Antipatros did not compel Kleopatra to return with him and the two kings to
Macedonia, though he does seem to have left her in what eventually became a kind of house-​
arrest at Sardis under the control of Antigonos. Years passed, during which almost all the
rest of her family was killed off. Antipatros died, but his son Kassandros took over control
of Macedonia, killed Olympias, imprisoned and ultimately murdered Alexander IV and his
mother Roxane, then arranged the murder of Alexander’s other son, Herakles (and his mother).
By about 308, the only Argeads left were Kleopatra herself and her half-​sister, Thessalonike,
whom Kassandros had seized and married after the death of Olympias. At this point, Kleopatra
contacted Ptolemy and attempted to escape Sardis to reach him, presumably to marry him.
Antigonos’ officer discovered her plan and Antigonos had her killed, though publicly blaming
her female attendants for the murder he had ordered (Diod. 20.37.3–​6). That Kleopatra and
Olympias sometimes took the initiative in marriage talks indicates their importance and pres-
tige, not the lack of it.12
Kleopatra’s post-​Alexander career raises some puzzling and yet significant issues. Naturally,
one wants to know why, if they all wanted to, none of the Successors married her. Two of
the projected marriages failed to happen, as we have seen, because the grooms died before
they could marry, and another because Kleopatra herself was murdered. But this does not
explain why Antigonos did not marry her or have his son do so or why he had his son marry
Antipatros’ daughter Phila instead (see p. 237). By this point, about 320, when Kleopatra was

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sequestered at Sardis, it apparently became more critical for most of the Successors to prevent
her from marrying a rival than it was to marry her themselves. The rivalry between Antipatros
(and his family) and Olympias and Kleopatra is striking; it would be a mistake to put it down
to Antipatros’ supposed misogyny.13 As we’ll see, he had no problem with his own daughter’s
relatively public role. One wishes that we could know more about the confrontation between
Antipatros and Kleopatra, but she obviously took an aggressive position, understanding that she
somehow had a right to oppose the regent. Kleopatra prefigured the role of female close kin
in Hellenistic dynasties: she waged war by marriage alliance. It was a war she lost, but might
have won.

Adea Eurydike
Adea Eurydike (c. 337–​316 BCE), also a member of the Argead dynasty (Kleopatra was her
aunt), was a kind of James Dean-​like character who did indeed live fast and die young, pos-
sibly leaving behind a good-​looking corpse.14 Her short, if dashing, career may have served
as a model for a number of aspects of the subsequent role of women in Hellenistic dynasties.
If anything, the brevity and drama of her short life made the things she did more striking to
her contemporaries, though those same qualities may explain comparatively scant scholarly
attention. She was doubly royal, since both her mother and her father were Argeads. Her mother
was Philip II’s daughter Kynnane (whose mother Audata was an Illyrian) and her father was
Amyntas, Philip’s nephew (the son of his brother Perdikkas III, the ruler who preceded Philip),
whom Alexander killed at the start of his reign, allegedly because of Amyntas’ ambitions for
the throne (Polyaen. 8.60; Just. 12.6.14; Arrian FGrH 156 F 9.22; Plut. Mor. 327c; Curt. 6.9.17,
10.24). Once widowed, Kynnane did not remarry and apparently spent the years of Alexander’s
reign training her daughter in military skills (Ath. 13.560f; see below, p. 326).
After Alexander’s death, Kynnane sprang into action: despite Antipatros’ attempts to prevent
her, she and her daughter escaped Macedonia for Asia, with some sort of military force. She
planned to marry her daughter to one of the new co-​kings, Philip Arrhidaios, Kynnane’s own
half-​brother. When Kynnane reached Asia, Perdikkas and/​or his brother killed her in order to
prevent the realization of her plans for her daughter, but the Macedonian army, outraged by the
killing of Philip’s daughter, forced the elite to allow the marriage she had planned (Arr. FGrH
156 F 9.22–​23; Polyaen. 8.60).15 Granted that Philip Arrhidaios was understood as somehow
mentally disabled and so always had a regent, Adea Eurydike was able to take a more prominent
position, functionally, than he, though nominally a king.
Soon after her marriage, Adea Eurydike, though still a teenager, began to give speeches to the
troops, attempting to woo control of them away from whatever general was currently regent.
She came quite close to succeeding and nearly brought down Antipatros himself, but in the
end a coalition of the Successors defeated her attempt and she and her husband returned to
the Greek mainland, in the control of Antipatros, who was now regent (Diod. 18.39.1–​4; Arr.
FGrH 156, F. 9.30–​3; c.f. Polyaen. 4.6.4). After Antipatros died in 319, however, Adea Eurydike
and her husband somehow escaped the control of the new regent Polyperchon, and, once back
in Macedonia, Adea Eurydike allied herself with Antipatros’ son, Kassandros, seeming herself to
act as regent for her husband (Just. 14.5.1–​4; Diod. 19.11.1). Kassandros, however, was not in
Macedonia when an army headed (if not exactly led) by Olympias and by Polyperchon, with
Alexander IV and his mother Roxane, approached the borders of Macedonia with an army.
Adea Eurydike and Philip Arrhidaios, rather than waiting for Kassandros, called out the local
Macedonian army, with some difficulty, and went out to meet the opposing forces. This was a
fairly traditional Macedonian event: one member of the ruling dynasty opposed another and

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someone ended up dead. What was unusual was that both sides were led by women. Duris (ap.
Ath. 13.557f) said that Olympias dressed as a Bacchant and Adea Eurydike as a Macedonian
soldier; whatever one makes of the literal truth of this statement, it does describe the public per-
sona and leadership role of each woman. In any case, the home army went over to Olympias and
she had Philip Arrhidaios executed and forced Adea Eurydike to kill herself (Diod. 19.11.1–​8;
Just. 14.8–​10).
Despite the brevity and lack of success of Adea Eurydike’s career, it proved significant for the
future. One of the things that would mark Hellenistic monarchy was the tendency to display
monarchic power in terms of gendered pairs. This tendency was most developed in Ptolemaic
monarchy, but it appears in virtually all the dynasties of the period, though sometimes the
pair was constituted not by a husband and wife, but by some other close-​kin combination.16
Adea Eurydike and her husband seem to be the prototype for this pattern: Philip Arrhidaios’
perceived mental limitations, the scarcity of living Argeads, the fact that Adea Eurydike was
doubly Argead by birth, that she was very closely related to him (he was her half-​uncle and her
cousin), and that she acted so aggressively contributed to this situation. There is a marked par-
allelism in the careers of this royal pair: both changed their names when they came to “power”
(Arr. FGrH 156, F 9.23; Curt. 10.7.7; Diod. 18.2.4; Just. 13.3.2), evoking distinguished ancestors,
and in both cases, the army forced the elite to give them their roles. Once married, they seem
never to have been apart. As we have noted, in the last phase of their careers, Adea Eurydike
acted like a regent for her husband. They died, if not exactly together, nearly so.17
Adea Eurydike served as a model in two other ways; the first is certain, the second merely
speculation. Though both Olympias and her daughter Kleopatra appeared in a military con-
text, Adea Eurydike made her military identity central. She generated a military persona, by
her dress and by her actions (Duris ap. Ath. 13.560f). The origins of her behavior certainly lay
with her mother (and probably grandmother) since she was trained in military affairs and her
mother Kynnane, at least, appears to have gone into battle (Polyaen. 8.60).18 It is less clear that
Adea Eurydike actually fought in battle. But she was comfortable around the army, which had,
as I have noted, made her a king’s wife and she used that ease in a military setting in a very pol-
itical way, through harangues to the troops, though her approach seemed to work better with
the armies in Asia than the one in Macedonia itself (Diod 19.11.2–​7). She, more than Olympias
and Kleopatra, is the prototype for the appearance of Hellenistic royal women in front of armies,
particularly for their giving speeches in front of armies.19
A more speculative possibility is that Adea Eurydike could have been the first royal
Macedonian woman to employ the female royal title basilissa. The first actual evidence for the
word’s use as a title comes only with Phila around 306, roughly a decade after the death of Adea
Eurydike (see p. 327). Adea Eurydike’s name appears in no extant inscription, so we do not
know if she used a title or not. Phila’s use of it, as we shall see, clearly relates to the initiation
of the male title basileus in 306 by her father-​in-​law and husband (a practice soon followed by
the rest of the Successors). In the Hellenistic era, basilissa was employed as a title of royal wives,
daughters, mothers, and, sometimes, regnant or co-​regnant women. But who decided to create
a female title and why? Was it the court of Antigonos and Demetrios or did their courts simply
appropriate an earlier development? Could Adea Eurydike have invented a female title to indi-
cate her unique status, the wife of a king viewed as not able to rule, a member of the ruling
family on both sides, and a person who took public action, even military action? I have already
noted how much she and her husband functioned and were understood as a pair; the (largely
false) parallelism of creating a female title to match the male one makes sense in terms of her
distinctive situation.20

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Phila
My third choice is Phila (c. 350–​288 BCE), daughter of Antipatros and wife—​ultimately—​of
Demetrios Poliorketes.21 Unlike my other two exemplars, she was not, in fact, an Argead and
could not, in a literal way, be categorized as royal until 306, when her husband Demetrios
began to employ a royal title. We first hear of Phila in the context of her father Antipatros’
alliances with members of the elite via marriage to his daughters. Phila’s first marriage was to a
Macedonian named Balakros. Though he was a royal bodyguard and became satrap of Kilikia,
the fact that their only named son was named after Antipatros (not after his paternal grandfather,
as was common practice) suggests that this was not as important an alliance as Phila’s two sub-
sequent marriages. Balakros was killed in 324 while attempting to put down a rebellion (Diod.
18.22.1). After Alexander’s death in 323, many of the generals seemed eager to ally themselves
with Antipatros by marriage. Krateros, considered to be the best of Alexander’s generals and the
most traditionally Macedonian, married the widowed Phila in 322/​321; she had a son by him,
a second Krateros, but her second husband soon fell in battle and Phila once more became a
widow (Diod. 18.18.7; Plut. Demetr 14.2). Yet again, as part of an alliance, Antipatros arranged
a marriage, this time to Demetrios Poliorketes, the son of Antigonos; the marriage happened
around 320, in the context of the series of arrangements made after the death of Perdikkas.
Demetrios supposedly did not want to marry Phila because she was older than he, but in the
end agreed because his father wanted the marriage alliance (Plut. Demetr. 14.2–​4, 27.8).
Phila remained married to Demetrios for the rest of her life. Demetrios’ career was one of
dramatic ups and downs. Phila had both a son (Antigonos Gonatas) and a daughter (Stratonike)
with Demetrios (Plut. Demetr. 31.5, 37.4, 53.8). She served as support staff during campaigns,
organizing equipment and personnel (Diod. 20.93.4; Plut. Demetr. 22.1). Demetrios was fam-
ously polygamous (see Chapter 26) but apparently fonder of various courtesans than any of his
wives. As he and his father moved toward taking a royal title, they received civic cult, first at
Skepsis in 311 (OGI 6), then in Athens as the savior gods in 307.22 About the same time, both a
private cult (begun by one of the most important of Antigonid philoi, Adeimantos of Lampsakos)
and a civic cult were initiated for Phila as Phila Aphrodite (Ath. 254a, 255c), but similar cults
also began for several of Demetrios’ mistresses (Ath. 253a–​b).23 By the early third century, cults
of living and dead royal women had developed in several dynasties and the Ptolemies also
developed state cults.24 Important philoi like Adeimantos played a vital role connecting the
kings and dynasties to Greek cities, often acting as civic benefactors; the connection between
philoi and the developing cults of royal women and their relationships with royal women them-
selves also served to entrench and legitimize kings and dynasties.25 In terms of cult, little else
differentiated Phila from some of her husband’s mistresses, but the title basilissa did. Our earliest
evidence for the use of this title is an inscription recorded within about a year of the time when
Demetrios and his father began to be addressed as kings; this inscription also demonstrates that
she had a court of her own, since this critical inscription is an honorary decree for one of her
philoi, Demarchos, who is referred to as a guard in basilissa Phila’s entourage (Syll3 333.6–​7).
The inscription is usually dated c. 305.26 Use of the female title spread rapidly to the other
Hellenistic dynasties and was commonplace by about 300.27 Our sources describe the critical
role of royal philoi in the initiation of the male royal title for the Successors (Plut. Demetr. 17.2–​
18.4; Diod. 20.53.1–​4; App. Syr. 54); no extant source details the circumstance that led to the
initiation of basilissa as a title for Phila and others, but one suspects that royal philoi were again
involved, though whether the impulse originated in the courts of Antigonos and Demetrios or
among Phila’s own philoi we cannot say.28

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Despite the glamorous victories of Antigonos and Demetrios, their success appeared to
vanish when Antigonos fell at Ipsos in 301 (Plut. Demetr. 17.2–​6, 29.7–​8; Diod. 20.53.2) and for
a time Demetrios seemed little more than an Asian warlord. But he had new successes, married
his daughter by Phila to Seleukos (Plut. Demetr. 31.5), reacquired clout in Athens, and in 294
became king of Macedonia. Kassandos, Phila’s brother, had ruled Macedonia from 316 until his
death, but his surviving sons proved far less able than he, and Demetrios was able to murder one
and gain recognition as king (Plut. Demetr. 36.1–​37.2). Apart from the murder, Demetrios was
recognized as ruler of Macedonia because of Phila, because she was the daughter of Antipatros
(Plut. Demetr.37.3). Demetrios, not terribly focused on Macedonia, gradually lost popularity
there and in 288 he was forced to flee the country. He lived for another five years, unsuccess-
fully besieging Athens, having mixed success in Asia, only to die in 283, having spent his last
years as a prisoner of his son-​in-​law Seleukos. Phila, however, poisoned herself when Demetrios
was forced to give up Macedonia. Plutarchos (Demetr. 45.1) attributes her suicide to grief at
seeing her husband a private fugitive and refugee and says she gave up all hope, hating his luck
(Plut. Demetr. 45.1). Perhaps, despite his interminably unpredictable career and many wives and
mistresses, Phila actually cared about Demetrios, but in tragedy noble women kill themselves
when there is no honorable choice left.29
Her suicide is particularly interesting because of an encomium about Phila preserved in
Diodoros (19.59.3–​5; Diodoros says he will say more about her, but there is a lacuna in the
text so we have only this passage). Hieronymos of Kardia who, despite his earlier opposition
to them, was a member of the courts of three generations of Antigonids, is Diodoros’ likely
source. Diodoros describes Phila positively, but not particularly as a warm or especially loving
person, rather as one who is thoughtful, wise, and fair (she settles disputes in camp) and
helpful (she arranges marriages for poor girls and frees those unjustly charged). Her char-
acter seems to resemble that of her famous father and Diodoros actually says that Antipatros,
himself famous for his sagacity, consulted his daughter on great affairs even while she was
still a girl.
Phila is a transitional figure for reasons probably already evident, and perhaps for some less
so. In the era of the Successors, she was the first woman to become royal because her husband
did; a number of other women soon followed her example. She was a model of what was to
come for other reasons too: she played a role in international diplomacy (negotiating between
her brothers and husband; Plut. Demetr. 32.3), served as a patron of the soldiers and their fam-
ilies, had the first cult for a royal woman as well as the first title, and generally acted as support
for her husband’s operations. Analysis of her has suffered from what could be termed the “good
girl” problem. She is often compared to Octavia, Octavian’s sister and wife of Mark Antony,
who tried to mediate between them, put up (for some time) with his very public on–​off rela-
tionship with Kleopatra VII, and brought up his children by other women after his death. The
comparison is a fair one, but fails to recognize that each of these women had a public persona,
one that was not entirely generated by male kin.30 In Phila’s case, Demetrios’ endless affairs and
marriages may have seemed more or less to be expected, much in the mode of Philip II, but
there is some reason to think that Demetrios chose to humiliate Phila publicly;31 his loss of
Macedonia, in any event, was a step too far for her.

Conclusion
Some conclusions about the role of women in the transition from Argead monarchy to the
varied dynasties of the Hellenistic period are obvious, some less so. Female members of the
Argead dynasty attempted to perpetuate the old monarchy or help to create a new hybrid: both

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sorts of attempts failed. Chance, especially early in the period, played a role in this failure, but
the Successors, especially the Antigonids, did not continue to prioritize the survival of the
Argead line. Antipatros is usually depicted as a loyal and traditional Macedonian, but he and
his descendants often acted in opposition to the female Argeads and the surviving males. The
rival marriage alliances make this clear. Antipatros himself did not murder any Argeads, but his
son Kassandros certainly did. While Antipatros and Kassandros seemed comfortable with Phila’s
prominence if not that of Kleopatra, Olympias, or Adea Eurydike, the Antigonids, descendants
of Antipatros through Phila, did not create a monarchic tradition in which women played a
prominent role, in contrast to the other major dynasties.32
Though the gendered pairing of monarchic power that first appeared in this period was ini-
tially the consequence of the scarcity of males and the need for the new dynasties to legitimize
themselves, displaying and understanding monarchic power in terms of both men and women
outlasted the transitional period, probably because it made a larger dynastic footprint possible,
helped royal dynasties to cope with the greater distances involved in Hellenistic kingdoms,
generated a gendered and more accessible way to understand dynastic rule, and was supported
and publicized by royal philoi, some connected primarily to a royal woman, some to a royal
male, and some to both. These larger and more international courts enabled female patronage
to be international. Royal women, by their patronage and that of their philoi, and through their
developing cults, made their dynasties accessible and understandable. Many of these women
acted as intercessors—​Phila is an obvious example—​and this intercession became an important
aspect of Hellenistic monarchy.
One of the hallmarks of the period, something that would become more customary as the
Hellenistic period went forward, was the way in which royal women took on a military role.
Because this role was fairly narrowly defined—​they appeared with armies, addressed them,
controlled citadels—​it is easy to underestimate its importance in terms of generating and articu-
lating dynastic loyalty. Again, this first happened by chance, particularly because of the absence
of males and the importance of the army in Asia, but it became institutionalized.
Finally, this is a period in which the agency of royal women was critical, even though their
active roles often led to their deaths. Many of these women were murdered because of their
agency. Royal males tried to limit the agency of royal women while taking advantage of it,
but in many cases the long-​term consequence was the empowerment of the women of the
developing dynasties.

Notes
1 All dates in this chapter are BCE unless otherwise indicated.
2 I employ the term “royal woman” because no female title existed before the late fourth century when
some but not all wives, daughters of kings, and sisters of kings began to be appear in inscriptions with the
word basilissa next to their names. Usage of this title varied over time and by dynasty, so neither “queen”
nor “princess” seems an appropriate way to translate basilissa.
3 On Kleopatra, see Carney 1988: 394–​404; 2000: 75–​6, 89–​90, 123–​8; Meeus 2009.
4 Carney 2000: 203–​7; Spawforth 2007: 91; Ager 2017.
5 See Rhodes and Osborne 2003: 487–​93 for discussion and references and for the conclusion that the
motivation was at least partially political, contra Marasco 1992: 77–​99. See also Pazdera 2006: 142–​59.
6 Meyer 2013: 122 considers her the guardian of her son.
7 Charneux 1966: 178.
8 Seibert 1967: 19–​24 speculates about the possible specific circumstances in which Kassandros, Lysimachos,
and Antigonos tried to marry Kleopatra. Carney 1988: 402, n. 47 suggests that the Diodoros passage
need not refer to a formal offer of marriage but rather to discussion of it.
9 Like Meeus 2009: 64, n. 4, I consider all the Successors interested in the rule of the whole empire.

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10 Meeus 2009: 71–​2 argues that Antipatros’ offer post-​rather than predated Kleopatra’s. I do not agree,
but either order of events shows them in competition.
11 Meeus 2009: 78–​7 argues, based on a variant reading of one of the fragments of Arrian, that Perdikkas
appointed Kleopatra “civil governor of Lydia” and that the former satrap Menander, after this, in effect,
functioned as her underling.
12 Contra Meeus 2009.
13 Diodoros (19.11.9) recounts the supposed deathbed warning of Antipatros never to let a woman
rule the kingdom. Apart from the dubiousness of deathbed statements (contra O’Neil 1999), it seems
clear that Olympias, Kleopatra and Antipatros engaged in (and apparently initiated) what proved to
be an enduring clan rivalry between the Antipatrids and the Aeakids of Molossia. See further Carney
2006: 85–​7, 104–​7.
14 Carney 1987; 1994; 2000: 132–​7. See also Macurdy 1932: 48–​52. If she is the woman buried in the
antechamber of Tomb II at Vergina—​a much disputed possibility—​than she certainly had a beautiful
burial. See discussion and references in Carney 2016.
15 Heckel 1983–​4; Carney 2000: 69–​70, 129–​31.
16 Roy 1998 makes this important point. See discussion of some examples of the phenomenon in Widmer
2019 and D’Agostini 2019.
17 See also Carney 2019: 22–​5.
18 Pomeroy 1984: 6 rightly observes that careers of these women constitute evidence for the preservation
of a military tradition (presumably Illyrian) in this female line of descent.
19 Pillonel 2008.
20 Carney 2019: 24 and forthcoming.
21 Wehrli 1964; Heckel 1989; Carney 2000: 165–​ 9; Heckel 2006: 207–​ 8; Harders 2013; Carney
forthcoming.
22 See discussion and references in Müller 2010.
23 Ogden 2009: 357 argued unconvincingly that Lamia’s daughter Phila is the one referred to by
Athenaios. See Wallace 2013: 144–​6 for a discussion of Adeimantos, the cult, and the date of the
inscription.
24 Carney 2000: 209–​24. See also Chapter 9 in this volume.
25 See Carney 2013: 166, n. 137 and Wallace 2013: 145 on parallels between the relationship of
Adeimantos to Phila’s cult and that of Kallikrates to Arsinoë II’s cult; and see Le Bohec 1993: 237,
n. 64 and Savalli-​Lestrade 1994: 431 on royal women and philoi generally.
26 Carney forthcoming. Paschidis (2008) 387–​9 attempted to re-​date the Samian decree to c. 299, arguing
that it was part of an Antigonid attempt to regain ground lost after Ipsus, though he also seems to agree
that the Samian decree is the earliest evidence for the female title. It is, however, highly unlikely that
the practice of referring to Phila as basilissa began after the Antigonid defeat at Ipsos in 301.
27 See Carney 1991; 2000: 225–​8; 2011: 202–​4.
28 Harders 2013: 30 suggests that members of Phila’s court initiated the practice. See Chapter 16 in this
volume.
29 See also Savalli-​Lestrade 2015: 190.
30 See, for instance, Macurdy 1932: 59–​61.
31 Heckel 2006: 208, noting that Demetrios’ daughter by his mistress Lamia was named “Phila” (Ath.
13.577c), takes it as sign of Demetrios’ “abuse” of Phila.
32 See Chapter 26.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Ager, S.L. 2017. “Symbol and Ceremony: Royal Weddings in the Hellenistic Age.” In A. Erskine, L.
Llewellyn-​Jones, and S. Wallace (eds.), The Hellenistic Court. Swansea, 165–​88.
Carney, E.D. 1987. “The Career of Adea-​Eurydike.” Historia 36, 4: 496–​502.
Carney, E.D. 1988. “The Sisters of Alexander the Great: Royal Relicts.” Historia 37: 385–​404.

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Carney, E.D. 1991. “‘What’s In a Name?’ The Emergence of a Title for Royal Women in the Hellenistic
Period.” In S.B. Pomeroy (ed.), Women’s History and Ancient History. Chapel Hill, 154–​72.
Carney, E.D. 1994. “Olympias, Adea Eurydice, and the End of the Argead Dynasty.” In I.Worthington (ed.),
Ventures into Greek History. Oxford, 357–​80.
Carney, E.D. 2000. Women and Monarchy in Macedonia. Norman, OK.
Carney, E.D. 2006. Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great. Oxford and New York.
Carney, E.D. 2007. “The Philippeum, Women, and the Formation of Dynastic Image.” In W. Heckel, L.
Tritle, and P. Wheatley (eds.), Alexander’s Empire: Formulation to Decay. Claremont, CA, 27–​70.
Carney, E.D. 2011. “Being Royal and Female in the Early Hellenistic Period.” In A. Erskine and L.
Llewellyn-​Jones (eds.), Creating the Hellenistic World. Swansea, 195–​220.
Carney, E.D. 2013. Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon.
Carney, E.D. 2016. “Commemoration of a Royal Woman as a Warrior: The Burial in the Antechamber of
Tomb II at Vergina.” Syllecta Classica 27: 109–​49.
Carney, E.D. 2019. “An Exceptional Argead Couple: Philip II and Olympias.” In A. Bielman Sánchez (ed.),
Power Couples in Antiquity: Transversal Perspectives. London and New York, 16–​31.
Carney, E.D. forthcoming. “The First Basilissa: Phila, Daughter of Antipater and Wife of Demetrius
Poliorcetes.” In G. Tsouvala and R. Ancona (eds.), New Directions in the Study of Women in Antiquity.
Oxford and New York.
Charneux, P. 1966. “List Argienne de Thearodoques.” Bulletin de correspondance hellénique 90: 156–​239.
D’Agostini, M. 2019. “A Change of Husband: Cleopatra Thea, Stability and Dynamism of Hellenistic
Royal Couples (15–​129 BCE).” In A.Bielman Sánchez (ed.), Power Couples in Antiquity: Transversal
Perspectives. London and New York, 42–​68.
Harders, A.-​C. 2013. “Ein König und viele Königinnen? Demetrios Poliorketes und seine Ehefrauen.” In
C. Kunst (ed.), Matronage: Handlungsstrategien und soziale Netzwerke von Herrscherfrauen im Altertum in
diachroner Perspektive. Rahden, 43–​50.
Heckel, W. 1983–​4. “Kynnane the Illyrian.” Rivista storica dell’antichita 13–​14: 193–​200.
Heckel, W. 1989. “The Granddaughters of Iolaus.” Classicum 15: 32–​9.
Heckel, W. 2006. Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Malden, MA.
Le Bouhec (-Bouhet), S. 1993. “Les reines de Macédoine de la mort d’Alexandre à celle de Persée.” Cahiers
du Centre Glotz 4: 229–​45.
Macurdy, G. H. 1932. Hellenistic Queens. Baltimore.
Marasco, G. 1992. Economia e storia. Viterbo.
Meeus, A. 2009. “Kleopatra and the Diadochoi.” In P. van Nuffelen (ed.), Faces of Hellenism: Studies in the
History of the Eastern Mediterranean (4th Century B.C.–​5th Century A.D.). Studia Hellenistica 48. Leuven,
Paris, and Walpole MA, 63–​92.
Meyer, E.A. 2013. The Inscriptions of Dodona and New History of Molossia. Stuttgart.
Müller, S. 2010. “Demetrios Poliorketes, Athen und Aphrodite.” Gymnasium 117: 559–​73.
Ogden, D. 2009. “Courtesans and the Sacred in the Early Hellenistic Courts.” In T. Scheer and M.A.
Lindner (eds.), Tempelprostituten im Altertum—​Fakten und Fiktionen. Berlin, 344–​76.
O’Neil, J. 1999. “Olympias: ‘The Macedonians will never let themselves be ruled by a woman.’” Prudentia
31: 1–​14.
Paschidis, P. 2008. Between City and King: Prosopographical Studies on the Intermediaries between the Cities of
the Greek Mainland and the Aegean and the Royal Courts of the Hellenistic Period (322–​190 B. C.). Athens
and Paris.
Pazdera, M. 2006. Getreide für Griechenland: Untersuchungen zu den Ursachen der Versorgungskrisen im Zeitalter
Alexanders des Grossen und der Diadochen. Münster.
Pillonel, C. 2008. “Les reines hellénistiques sur les champs de bataille.” In F. Bertholet, A. Bielman Sánchez,
and R. Frei-​Stolba (eds.), Egypte –​Grèce –​Rome: les différents visages des femmes antiques: travaux et
colloques du séminaire d’épigraphie grecque et latine de l’IASA 2002–​2006. Bern, 117–​45.
Pomeroy, S.B. 1984. Women in Hellenistic Egypt from Alexander to Cleopatra. New York.
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Men: Masculinity, Power and Identity in Classical Antiquity. London and New York, 111–​35.
Savalli-​Lestrade, I. 1994. “Il ruolo pubblico delle regine ellenistiche.” In S. Alessandri (ed.), Historie. Studie
offerti dagli allievi a Giuseppe Nenci in occasione del suo settantestimo compleanno. Galatina, 415–​32.
Savalli-​Lestrade, I. 2015. “Les adieux à la βασίλίσσα, Mise en scène en intrigue de la mort des femmes
royales dans le monde hellénistique.” Chiron 45: 187–​219.

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Seibert, J. 1967. Historische Beiträge zu den dynastischen Verbindungen in hellenistischer Zeit. Historia
Einzelschriften 10. Wiesbaden.
Spawforth, A.J.S. 2007. “The Court of Alexander the Great.” In A.J.S. Spawforth (ed.), The Court and Court
Society in Ancient Monarchies. Cambridge, 82–​120.
Wallace, S. 2013. “Adeimantus of Lampsacus and the Development of the Early Hellenistic ‘Philos.’” In
V. Alonso-​Troncoso and E. Anson (eds.), After Alexander: The Time of the Diadochi (323–​281 BC).
Oxford, 142–​57.
Wehrli, C. 1964. “Phila fille d’Antipater et épouse de Démétrius, roi des Macédoniens.” Historia 13: 140–​6.
Widmer, M. 2019.“Looking for the Seleucid Couple.” In A. Bielman Sánchez (ed.), Power Couples in
Antiquity: Transversal Perspectives. London and New York, 32–​41.

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28
WOMEN AND DYNASTY
AT THE HELLENISTIC
IMPERIAL COURTS
Rolf Strootman

Introduction
A peculiarity of the Hellenistic empires is the powerful position royal women held at court, and
their central place in dynastic representation.1 Hellenistic kingship was a family affair, and royal
women played key roles—​through their public images as much as their political activities—​
in the creation and legitimization of the Hellenistic empires.2 This goes back to the Argead
Empire after the death of Alexander, when a lack of able male successors enabled several tal-
ented women of the dynasty to rise to power.3 They paved the way for later generations, as
powerful women recurred in the Seleukid and Ptolemaic dynasties with a frequency that is
unique in ancient history.
This chapter discusses the place and agency of women at the imperial courts of the
Hellenistic world. The focus will be on the four major Macedonian dynasties: the Argeads,
Ptolemies, Seleukids, and Antigonids. Despite differences, and developments through time, sev-
eral characteristics were shared by these dynasties, who after all had a common background in
the Aegean and were in constant interaction with each other. Themes to be discussed are royal
women’s roles in dynastic succession, dynastic marital strategies, and the socio-​political agency
of court women (royal wives, sisters, daughters, and concubines).
Court studies go back to Norbert Elias and have profoundly influenced the study of the
emerging states of Early Modern Europe;4 of importance too is the more recent work on court
culture and imperialism by Jeroen Duindam and others.5 A court studies perspective has offered
new understandings and interpretations of ancient monarchies as well, especially the Hellenistic
empires and in their wake the Achaimenid Empire.6 The Hellenistic courts were basically the
private households of the dynasties.7 They were also meeting points where political and eco-
nomic networks converged and where power was created, negotiated, and distributed.8 This
actor-​based perspective offers an alternative to the conventional focus on institutions and “pol-
itical philosophy,” and the new interest in networks and exchange offers an alternative to the
modernist conceptualization of the Hellenistic empires as states. Circumventing the traditional
search for formal state institutions also means that the agency of women at court can be under-
stood as a cardinal aspect of the exercise of power rather than as merely ancillary and incidental.
Being essentially a household, the court was not an entirely male-​dominated domain to
begin with, but one in which women were literally at home. Though there were to some

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extent typically male and female spheres within the household—​e.g. in their religious tasks,
men tended to deal more with male and women more with female deities—​powerful women
should not be seen as intruders in politics because no distinction existed between the court as
private household and the court as political institution.9 In Greek inscriptions and historical
narratives, royal houses are sometimes called oikos or (basilikē) oikia,10 “the composite household
of persons and property that was the focus of family identity and interest.”11
The size of these households would frequently expand from a core group of people when
visitors would assemble for specific festive occasions. In the Argead, Antigonid, and Seleukid
empires this involved considerable movement of the court, often following a religious calendar.
The ability of the Hellenistic courts to both attract and seek out local elites was a powerful
instrument of imperialism.12 Because many of these “great events” were organized around rites
de passage of the royal family—​births, marriages, burials, inaugurations—​royal women played
key roles in them.13
The various imperial households of the Hellenistic period were mobile. Royal courts
were typically able to move, and they often did. Notably Argead, Seleukid and Antigonid
kings were regularly on campaign, accompanied by their courts.14 The idea that the residual
sovereign authority of the dynasty was located in a specific place even if the monarch him-
self was absent, such as existed in early modern Western Europe,15 never fully developed in
the Macedonian empires (though some concept of a “royal city” existed in the Seleukid
Empire, Seleukeia-​on-​the-​Tigris and Seleukeia-​in-​Pieria being the main examples).16 To be
sure, Macedonian kings often left their families behind while on campaign. “Capital” for
the Hellenistic empires is an anachronistic concept because it presupposes that a process
of “going out of court” was in progress or completed, that is, the formal disconnection of
dynastic household and state apparatus that was the foundation of the modern nation state.
If a concept of royal sovereignty in the sense of Kantorowicz’s “king’s two bodies” existed
in the Hellenistic world,17 this sovereignty could also be located in royal women. In the
older literature on Hellenistic kingship it is commonly stated that in the Hellenistic empires
the king “was the state,” or words to the same effect. But the actual situation probably was
plainer: there was no state. It is true that Argead and Antigonid kings were kings “of the
Macedonians” (Makedones), i.e. the Macedonian ethnos as a political body.18 But this was only a
constituent part of their overall basileia, the pretensions of which were more far-​reaching. The
Ptolemies were pharaohs of the “Two Lands” as part of their overall, universalistic pretensions;
the Seleukids were also kings of Babylon, etcetera.
The Seleukid court was very itinerant.Where Seleukid royal women and their courts resided
when not accompanying the king on campaign is unknown; they may have stayed in a specific
locality such as Seleukeia-​on-​the-​Tigris or Sardis with the intention to create an additional
dynastic center, where petitioners and negotiators could go when the king was progressing; or
they may have traveled themselves, changing residence just as the male monarch did.
Archaeology has yielded very little evidence that Hellenistic palaces in fact served residential
purposes. Hellenistic palatial architecture seems to have been ceremonial and representational
above all.19 This is a trait that Hellenistic palaces share with Achaimenid palaces such as Persepolis
or Susa. The best-​known examples are the Antigonid palace at Vergina (Aigai) and the acropolis
of Pergamon. The palace at Aigai consisted of an inner courtyard surrounded by banqueting
rooms for ritualized feasting.20 The exception were the Ptolemies. Although they did shift the
location of their court seasonally to Memphis, and in the second and first centuries BCE21
ritually progressed up and the down the Nile on a floating palace, Alexandria was a relatively
stable seat of power and an imperial microcosm, where monuments, fauna, flora, and know-
ledge symbolizing the imagined extent of Ptolemaic imperial hegemony were accumulated.

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The Ptolemaic palace district mimicked that of Hekatomnid Halikarnassos, but on a grander
scale, and, with its threefold setup of a huge outer palace consisting of semi-​public royal/​reli-
gious monuments (the so-​called Basileia district), palace gardens, and the private “Inner Palaces,”
prefigures later Mediterranean palaces such as Topkapı Sarayı in Ottoman Constantinople.

Royal women and dynastic succession

Already before the Hellenistic period, Macedonian elite women played a crucial role in the
transmission of the dynastic inheritance, of which royalty (basileia) was the principal element.22
Basileia was not a public office but a hereditary privilege, a family possession. The Macedonian
dynasties were based on dual descent; they accepted the transmission of inheritance through
both the male and female line.23 In this dynastic setup, women had better opportunities to
become key political actors than in dynasties organized along the male bloodline.
A complicating factor was the practice of polygyny, common among the Argeads and adopted
also by Alexander’s successors. In his 1999 book Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death, Daniel Ogden
put forward the influential thesis that the Hellenistic dynasties lacked a consistent method of
hierarchizing royal wives and organizing the succession, which led to a fierce competition
between the wives to ensure the succession of their sons; this destructive rivalry, that broke up
the royal courts and made succession conflicts endemic, according to Ogden was the main cause
of the Hellenistic dynasties’ demise.24
Ogden’s thesis is no longer widely accepted. It is clear that Hellenistic royal women
could be hierarchized and that Hellenistic kings had various strategies at their disposal to
regulate the succession.25 In the Seleukid Empire, conflicts over the succession between
brothers or half-​brothers were actually rare; Nicholas Wright has pointed out that even in
the later period of dynastic warfare, primogeniture was generally respected by each of the
two rival branches of the Seleukid house.26 The Ptolemaic, and infrequent Seleukid, practice
of brother–​sister marriage—​borrowed from the fourth-​century Hekatomnids, though it may
have been practiced sporadically by the pre-​Hellenistic Argeads27—​made it as clear as a bell
who was the female head of the household, and only her children would in principle be eli-
gible for the throne (though conflicts over the succession between these children could still
occur).28 Moreover, dynastic polygyny was not a feature peculiar to the Hellenistic dynasties.
As Duindam has shown, with the exception of medieval and early modern Europe, polygyny
was the rule in dynastic reproduction in world history and primogeniture was far from uni-
versal.29 Conflicts between women close to the king were natural in courts where polygynous
reproduction was practiced.30
Duindam further noted that dynastic women “rarely acted only as passive vehicles of repro-
duction or as disinterested outsiders in succession conflicts. Even in dynasties based entirely
on the notion of a male bloodline, women played marked roles.”31 The Hellenistic dynasties
were certainly based on succession through the matriline as well, amplifying women’s agency
in the succession. An early example is that of Kleopatra, the sister of Alexander whom various
Diadochs (Leonnatos, Perdikkas, Kassandros, Lysimachos, Antigonos, Ptolemy) desired to marry
in order to “legitimate” their rule—​or so her role in Alexander’s “funeral games” is usually
explained.32 In fact, it was not Kleopatra’s relationship with Alexander that made her a key
player on the political scene between 323 and her death in 308: more important was the cir-
cumstance that after Alexander’s death she had become the main claimant to the heritage of
her father, Philip II. Her popularity among a multitude of power-​hungry suitors cannot be
explained with the vague term “legitimacy,” but rather by the very tangible fact that if she bore a
son, this son would inherit the Argead family’s basileia. By producing offspring with Kleopatra, a

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Rolf Strootman

man like Perdikkas could translate the Argead basileia to his own family, while for 16 years or so
he could act as regent for his minor son. But this arrangement would also have given Kleopatra
substantial power.
A comparable scenario unfolded at the very end of Hellenistic history, when Kleopatra VII,
who was the inheritor of both the Ptolemaic and Seleukid basileia, concluded a marriage alliance
with Caesar. For Kleopatra this was a way to find a strong ally who could help her secure her rule
and make her empire great again; for her Roman companion it was a means to bring Hellenistic
kingship into his familia and, more importantly, to control the Near Eastern vassal kings as regent
for his minor son, Ptolemy XV (Caesarion). After Caesar’s death, Antony continued this policy
when in 34 BCE he proclaimed Kleopatra “Queen of Kings” and Caesarion “King of Kings,”
and gave local kingdoms to his own children with Kleopatra.33
A wife could be elevated to the status of first queen by granting her the title of basilissa and
the right to wear a diadem. King’s wives were not routinely called basilissa. The title bestowed
special status and authority on a consort, and elevated her above possible other spouses.34
Demetrios Poliorketes had several wives and many concubines but only one, Phila, bore the
title of basilissa.35 Thus, a basilissa was originally mutatis mutandis a first queen, or queen mother,
and this in turn was a means to hierarchize royal women and pre-​arrange the succession; it also
enhanced the loyalty of the designated first queen and made the members of her paternal family
stakeholders in the imperial project. Support from the court, the army, and powerful local elites
could be generated by making the basilissa a central figure in dynastic representation.36 The title
of basilissa was later also granted to princesses; this presumably can be associated with concerns
about the succession as well.37
The wish to secure the succession and dynastic continuity was likely a significant motiv-
ation for the brother–​sister marriages of the Ptolemaic dynasty, which in turn increased the
formal equality of king and queen in this dynasty. The prominent position of the queen at the
Ptolemaic court is reflected in court poetry; queens both acted as patrons of poets and feature
in poetic texts, for instance in Kallimachos’ Victory of Berenike, an epinician ode celebrating the
victory of the queen’s horses in the Olympic Games.38
A second mechanism to ensure a harmonious transition of power was the elevation of one
son above his (half-​)brothers by giving him far-​reaching responsibilities, honors, and authority.
This partly explains the well-​known Hellenistic practice of joint kingship, in which the successor
received the title of basileus during his father’s lifetime.39 The son who acted as co-​ruler was
thereby not only signaled as successor, but also given the opportunity to gain support of the
army and local elites, so that it would be difficult to remove him from power after his accession
as sole king. Dual kingship was practiced occasionally and with varying degrees of success.40
Dual kingship considerably increased the status and power of the successor’s mother.41 In the
early Seleukid Empire, not only the father–​son dyad but also the public unity of mother and
son was emphasized in dynastic representation. In 300/​299 and 299/​298, the Milesian dēmos in
rapid succession voted a decree in honor of Antiochos, Seleukos I’s heir, and the setting up of a
statue of Antiochos’ mother, Apama; in both cases the initiative came from the powerful Seleukid
philos Demodamas of Miletos, and thus ultimately from the Seleukid court.42 The promotion of
Apama at this specific time can be related to Seleukos’ marriage to Stratonike, the daughter of
Demetrios Poliorketes, which made it necessary to secure Apama’s status as first queen and her
son Antiochos’ primacy in the succession.43 Thus an image was created of the harmonious unity
of the Seleukid king, queen, and male successor. In the Antiochos Cylinder from Borsippa (268),
Antiochos I, Stratonike, and their son, Seleukos, repeatedly appear together as a mirror image of
the divine Babylonian triad of Marduk (father), Erûa (the mother “who creates offspring”), and

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Nabû (“first son”).44 This simplified nuclear family of king/​husband, queen/​wife, and heir/​son,
which was also presented in other media, has been called the Seleukid reigning triad.45
Family ties were constantly stressed by the Macedonian dynasties, for instance by the use
of dynastic epithets (Eupator, Philopator, Philadelphos, Philometor), by sharing divine honors,
by a preference for family groups in portrait sculpture,46 by naming cities after kings, queens
and their children, and through the pronunciation of family traits on coin portraits, such as
the Ptolemaic “strong chin” or the bull’s neck of the early Seleukids.47 An interesting aspect
of family resemblance in coin portraiture is the process of “assimilation,” by which a queen’s
face would be subtly altered to resemble the features of her husband.48 After his victory in the
Battle of Chaironeia (338), Philip II commissioned the building of the Philippeion in Olympia,
which housed statues of himself, his parents, his queen Olympias, and his heir Alexander.49 To
the sphere of family politics also belongs the use of dynastic names. Seleukid princesses were
most often called Laodike or Antiochis, while the name Stratonike (after the Antigonid wife
of Seleukos I and Antiochos I) also recurred.50 In the Ptolemaic kingdom the use of dyn-
astic names was radical. Since Ptolemy Soter by coincidence had been succeeded by another
“Ptolemaios,” all Ptolemaic kings bore this throne name, while after c. 200 BCE all queens
were named Kleopatra, creating an image of a superbly stable and eternally ongoing mon-
archy.51 Other recurring female dynastic names among the Ptolemies were Berenike, Arsinoë,
and Ptolemais.

Dynastic marriage
The Seleukids intermarried more with royalty than did the Ptolemies, who in most generations
avoided marriage with external dynasties. For their daughters, the Seleukid house mostly
arranged hypogamous marriages, where the woman is married to a man of lower status, thereby
affirming the superiority of the Seleukid imperial house over the vassal dynasty. Eumenes II
of Pergamon rejected a marriage with a daughter of Antiochos III because this would give
her father too much authority over Eumenes’ house.52 David Engels, Richard Wenghofer, and
this author have shown how Seleukid kings (above all Antiochos III) consolidated alliances
and brought local dynasts into the extended Seleukid family through dynastic marriages; they
thereby exchanged in the periphery of the empire failing attempts at direct rule for rule by
proxy.53
As we have seen, the royal household was the meeting point where the networks converged
that held the Hellenistic empires together, and where exchanges and negotiations between
stakeholders in the imperial project took place. Princesses were key actors in the establishment
of imperial cohesion, creating lasting connections between secondary houses and the imperial
dynasties. Queens could act as diplomats through their paternal families’ local networks. For
instance Apama—​Seleukos Nikator’s Iranian bride and mother of his successor and co-​ruler,
Antiochos I—​played an important role in the establishment of Seleukid hegemony in her native
Central Asia, while also representing the dynasty in the West.54 Alex McAuley has shown how
the Seleukids interacted with regional rulers in Anatolia by arranging diplomatic marriages of
these rulers to Seleukid princesses, enabling Seleukid interference in the households of their
clients; the principal agents of these interventions were the Seleukid princesses themselves, who
remained in contact with their paternal house.55
Hellenistic dynastic marriages were celebrated with much pageantry and must have been
arranged well in advance to allow visitors to arrive. Unfortunately, the details of such ceremonies
have not been preserved.56 Princesses typically were not accompanied by their fathers, but by
court dignitaries, and they presumably had with them a personal entourage of servants, ladies

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in waiting, and guards. Around 178, Laodike, daughter of Seleukos IV, traveled to Macedonia
to marry king Perseus accompanied by a huge bridal escort on board a flotilla of Rhodian
warships; the marriage was connected to Perseus’ inauguration as king some time earlier.57
Shortly after the accession of Antiochos III, his young bride Laodike was escorted to Seleukeia-​
on-​the-​Euphrates (Zeugma), a border town, where Antiochos awaited her “with all due pomp
and splendor” and where the wedding ceremony took place “with royal magnificence;” the
couple then proceeded to Antioch-​on-​the-​Orontes, where Laodike in a second ceremony was
proclaimed basilissa.58
Queens introduced their own following into their husbands’ households, a phenomenon
that is known as the “doubling” of the court. Though there is no archaeological evidence
that Hellenistic palaces were divided into male and female spaces, there is some scattered evi-
dence that Hellenistic queens indeed had their own courts. Berenike Syra, one of the wives
of Antiochos II (aka Phernophoros, “Dowry-​Bringer”), had a personal bodyguard of Galatian
warriors given to her by her father, Ptolemy II.59 For the later Seleukid household, a chamber-
lain and chief physician of the queen have been attested.60 There is some evidence that, at the
Ptolemaic court of the late third century, queens were attended by female pages, who may have
been the daughters of important philoi.61
Though we know that queens upon marriage brought with them substantial dowries, it is
difficult to say if they themselves had command of these possessions.62 The practice of returning
a princess a generation later, who would then bring back a dowry to her mother’s paternal
house, seems to indicate that the dowry in principle would become the inheritance of the
queen’s children, and thus be lost to her paternal family if no such strategies were employed
to prevent it. The fact that Seleukid and Ptolemaic queens acted as benefactors of cities and as
patrons of the arts shows that they, in one way or another, had substantial financial resources at
their disposal.63

Royal women as power brokers

From the original brother–​sister reign of Arsinoë II and Ptolemy II—​who shared the cult
title Philadelphos (“brother/​sister-​lover”)—​Ptolemaic queens wielded considerable power, cul-
minating in the sole reigns of Berenike IV and Kleopatra VII in the mid-​first century BCE.64
But also in the Argead and Seleukid dynasties, royal women regularly had a degree of formal
authority not seen in the Achaimenid or Roman empires. Because male rulers were often
away on campaign, they delegated power to their mothers or wives. Alexander left his mother
Olympias practically in charge of the Argead household in Macedon, where she seems to have
served as counterweight against the male regent, Antipatros.65 Olympias was able to consolidate
her position of primacy and accumulate enough support to remain powerful after her son’s
death.66 Another interesting example is Laodike, wife of Antiochos III. While Antiochos was
on campaign, Laodike represented him as monarch, maintaining diplomatic contacts with the
poleis of Asia Minor and having authority over the royal treasury. This is clear from a famous
letter to Iasos from c. 195, in which Laodike states that she is acting “in accordance with the
wishes of my brother,”67 an expression of fictive kinship stressing the closeness of husband
and wife. Antiochos himself likewise emphasized that Laodike was his other self by calling her
“our sister and queen” in his correspondence.68 There are more examples of Seleukid queens
acting in their own name as benefactors of civic communities.69 Women’s authority increased
when queen mothers ruled temporarily as regents to bridge a gap between two male rulers.
Olympias, whose example most of all created acceptance for later queens to rule, was regent for
Alexander’s son, Alexander IV.Women ruling as regent thereafter reappear with some frequency,

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the best example being the powerful Seleukid queen of Ptolemaic descent, Kleopatra Thea, in
the later second century BCE.70
Royal women could exercise considerable influence by acting as mediators, or brokers,
between the king and others at court. We are told that Pyrrhos the Molossian, who as a young
man stayed as a hostage at the court of Ptolemy Soter, “cultivated Berenike in particular,
seeing that she was the most influential and the most virtuous and intelligent of the wives of
Ptolemy.”71 The resultant (anti-​Antigonid) alliance between Pyrrhos and Ptolemy I was sealed
by a marriage involving not a daughter of Ptolemy, but a daughter of Berenike from an earlier
marriage, Antigone. It is perhaps noteworthy that Antigone derived status from her mother’s
rank as queen rather than through her father, Philippos son of Amyntas, an infantry officer in
the army of Alexander and “a Macedonian of no note and of lowly origin.”72
Diodoros recounts how in 316 Dokimos, a partisan of Eumenes, was captured by Antigonos
Monophthalmos but made a dramatic escape by negotiating with Antigonos’ wife Stratonike;
he later rose to high office in Antigonos’ army.73 Josephus tells a tale about a woman whose
husband, a court dignitary named Arion, had been thrown in jail: “Arion’s wife informed
Kleopatra of this, [and] Kleopatra informed the king of it,” after which Arion was released.74
Though the historicity of especially the last tale is dubious—​ Josephus’ narrative clearly
belongs to the genre of court stories, and the identity of queen “Kleopatra” is extremely hard
to establish—​it may be noted that in such stories queens consistently act as intermediaries
between the king and others.
More detail is given in another, and again rather novelistic, passage from Josephus’ Jewish
Antiquities. Josephus writes how in the later third century Joseph, a member of the priestly
Tobiad family of Jerusalem, traveled to the Ptolemaic court to obtain the right to collect taxes
in Judea: “[He] privately sent many presents to the king, and to [queen] Kleopatra, and to their
philoi, and to all that were powerful at court, and thereby purchased their goodwill to himself.”
Finally, a meeting with the king was arranged by the queen; while Ptolemy was traveling from
Memphis to Alexandria, Joseph waited beside the road at a place agreed upon in advance, was
invited into the royal carriage, and was granted restricted time to address the king: “With his
amusing and clever conversation he made a good impression on the king, who began to like
him, and he was invited for dinner at the palace, as a guest at the royal table.”75
In terms of court studies, the queen in these examples is not merely acting as an intermediary,
but at the same time as a filter through which matters had to pass on the way to the king. The
point is, that for ideological reasons kings were obliged to be open and accessible; but for
reasons of status and honor they could not openly refuse requests or ignore advice. Accessibility
therefore could be a risk for the king, but advantageous for powerful individuals whose status
gave them admission to him.76 Court dignitaries like the chiliarch at Alexander’s court or so-​
called favorites therefore often were given the task of regulating access and creating a protective
screen between the king and those seeking to exploit him.To the category of favorites—​relative
outsiders to court society who are elevated to a position of primacy by the favor of the king—​
also belong a group of court women not discussed thus far: royal concubines.77
In the literary sources we often find the topos of the royal concubine as a vulgar, unscru-
pulous, power-​hungry seductress who makes the king her sex slave. Polybios writes about the
Ptolemies: “But what are Mnesis and Potheine but flute-​players, and was Myrtion not one of
those vulgar professional mime actors? And was Ptolemy Philopator not the slave of the cour-
tesan Agathokleia, who brought the kingdom to the brink of collapse?”78
The negative image of royal concubines in the Greek narrative sources has carried through
to modern scholarship, where they are often depicted as courtesans. But when Polybios writes
that Ptolemy II set up public statues of his concubine, Kleino, he unintentionally reveals the

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high status these women actually had.79 It indicates that being a royal concubine was also a
formal public role—​an aulic office, reminiscent of the official Maîtresse en Titre at the court of
Louis XIV.80 One of the most notorious concubines in Hellenistic history, Agathokleia, was in
fact the sister of Agathokles, Ptolemy Philopator’s minister-​favorite. In other words, she was
a woman of noble birth, connected through kinship with one the most powerful men in the
empire.
A king’s relationship with a concubine could thus be a semi-​marital link with a member of
his own court. Another reason for maintaining relationships with concubines may have been to
produce extra offspring: either loyal “bastard” sons to whom responsibilities could delegated, or
girls to be given in marriage to seal alliances inside or outside the court.
Because concubines were in a position to communicate with the king in private, without
other people being present, they too could regulate access to the king by acting as brokers, as well
as perhaps acting as mediators between a powerful family of philoi and the king, as in the example
of Agathokles and Agathokleia. But these women likely were also themselves able to exert influ-
ence on the king, for “whoever had the king’s ear shared to some extent in his power.”81

Conclusion
Despite significant differences between the dynasties, Hellenistic queenship was a pan-​
Mediterranean and inter-​ imperial institution—​ and perhaps a category of its own. Royal
women were central figures in the dynastic households, and as mothers, heirs, and regents played
key roles in the maintenance of dynastic continuity. They sometimes had responsibilities that
many cultures consider typically male, such as acting as benefactors of cities or having leading
roles in warfare (e.g. Olympias, Arsinoë III, Kleopatra Thea, and Kleopatra VII). They acted as
power brokers at court, as public representatives of dynasties, and maintained contact with their
paternal families.

Notes
1 The classic study of Hellenistic royal women is Macurdy 1932; for the Argeads also Carney 2000.
Whitehorne 1994 offers short biographies of the many Argead, Seleukid, and Ptolemaic royal women
who were named Kleopatra. For Seleukid royal women see Coşkun and McAuley 2016. I was unable
to consult Hämmerling 2019.
2 Nourse 2002.
3 Carney 1991; cf. Macurdy 1927.
4 Elias 1969.
5 See i.a. Duindam 1995; 2003; 2016.
6 Spawforth 2007; Strootman 2007; 2014; Jacobs and Rollinger 2010; Llewellyn-​Jones 2013; Carney
2015; Erskine, Llewellyn-​Jones, and Wallace 2017. A two-​volume book on the Roman imperial court,
edited by Ben Kelly et al., is forthcoming from Cambridge University Press.
7 Strootman 2013a.
8 On this function of the court see Duindam 2018.
9 Carney 1994, for the Argead court; cf. Müller 2007; Strootman 2014: 93–​110.
10 Strootman 2014: 38; Seleukid evidence is discussed by Coloru 2012: 85–​6.
11 Patterson 1998: 3.
12 Strootman 2013b; 2018.
13 On Hellenistic inauguration ritual, see Strootman 2014: 210–​32.
14 For women at Alexander’s itinerant court, see Carney 2003.
15 Rodríquez-​Salgado 1991: 207.
16 Von Reden and Strootman in press.
17 Kantorowicz 1957.

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18 On the ethnos of the Makedones, see Hatzopoulos 2015.

19 Strootman 2014: 54–​90; on Hellenistic palace architecture, see Nielsen 1994; Brands and Hoepfner
1996; Kutbay 1998.
20 Hatzopoulos 2001.
21 All dates in this chapter are BCE unless otherwise indicated.
22 Mirόn Pérez 2000.
23 See Carney 1994 for the Argeads, and Strootman 2010 and 2016 for the Ptolemies and Seleukids.
A consequence of this custom, is that when the Seleukid dynasty became extinct in the patriline, the
Seleukid heritage was claimed by various matrilineal descendants, including Mithradates VI of Pontos
(a grandson of Antiochos IV Epiphanes), Antiochos I of Kommagene (grandson of Antiochos VIII), and
Kleopatra VII (heir to the Seleukid throne by multiple links).
24 Ogden 1999: ix–​xi.
25 Strootman 2007: 111–​17; Müller 2009: 18–​84.
26 Wright 2011.
27 Ogden 1999: 125.
28 On Ptolemaic sibling marriage, see Ager 2005; Buraselis 2008 and Chapter 29 in this volume.
29 Duindam 2016: 109–​27, 153.
30 Duindam 2016: 125.
31 Duindam 2016: 89.
32 On Kleopatra’s role in the Argead succession, see Meeus 2009. See also Chapter 27 in this volume.
33 Strootman 2010.
34 Strootman 2014: 107, 198–​9; Widmer 2019.
35 Carney 1991: 161; on Demetrios’ wives, see Harders 2013.
36 Müller 2013.
37 Ritter 1965: 116.
38 On the public image of Ptolemaic queens, see Wikander 1996; Hazzard 2000.
39 On joint kingship, see Holton 2018.
40 Billows 1995.
41 McAuley 2017b.
42 I.Didyma 479 and 480; cf. Engels and Erickson 2016.
43 Widmer 2015.
44 See Strootman 2013b; Holton 2018: 118–​23. For the titulature of Stratonike, see Widmer 2019.
45 McAuley 2017a: 190.
46 Hintzen-​Bohlen 1990; Müller 2009: 156–​386.
47 Fleischer 1990.
48 Wood 1999: 59.
49 See Carney 2007.
50 McAuley 2018.
51 Strootman 2014: 100.
52 Polyb. 21.20; App., Syr. 5; cf. Ager 2017: 176.
53 Engels 2011; Strootman 2011; 2016;Wenghofer and Houle 2015;Wenghofer 2018. See also Chapter 17
in this volume.
54 On Apama’s role in creating the Seleukid Empire, see Harders 2016; Ramsey 2016; Plischke 2016.
55 McAuley 2017a.
56 Sources for Hellenistic dynastic weddings are discussed by Ager 2017: 166–​71.
57 Polyb. 25.4.8; Liv. 42.12.3; App., Mac. 11.2.
58 Polyb. 5.43.3–​4.
59 Just. 27.1.4–​7; App., Syr. 65;Val. Max. 9.10 ext. 1; Polyaen. 8.50.
60 RIG 1158 (c. 100 BCE).
61 Polyb. 15.33.11.
62 Strootman 2014: 102–​3.
63 Bringmann 1997: 172.
64 Van Minnen 2010; cf. Müller 2009: 85–​155. See Chapters 7 and 11.
65 On Alexander’s suspicion of Antipatros and his house, see Müller 2003: 44–​6.
66 On the career of Olympias, see Carney 2006.
67 Austin 1981: no. 156; SEG 26, 1226.
68 Austin 1981: nos. 191 and 200; cf. Coloru 2012: 89.

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69 Bringmann 1997; Ramsey 2011.

70 D’Agostini 2019.
71 Plut., Pyrrh. 4.
72 Paus. 1.7.1, who may be exaggerating.
73 Diod. 19.16.
74 Jos., AJ 12.4.8 (204).
75 Jos., AJ 12.4.5 (185).
76 On these mechanisms, see Strootman 2017b.
77 Literature on Hellenistic concubines is limited; it includes Ogden 1999: 215–​72, and Buraselis 2017.
78 Polyb. 14.11.2–​5.
79 Polyb. 14.11.2–5.
80 Horowski 2004: 98–​107.
81 Knecht 1982: 89.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

RIG Michel, R. (ed.) 1900. Recueil d’Inscriptions Greques. Brussels.

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T. Kaizer (eds.), Kingdoms and Principalities in the Roman Near East, Stuttgart, 139–​58.
Strootman, R. 2011. “Hellenistic Court Society: The Seleukid Imperial Court under Antiochos the Great,
223–​187 BCE.” In J. Duindam, M. Kunt, and T. Artan (eds.), Royal Courts in Dynastic States and Empires.
Leiden, 63–​89.
Strootman, R. 2013a. “Dynastic Courts of the Hellenistic Empires.” In H. Beck (ed.), A Companion to
Ancient Greek Government. Malden, 38–​53.
Strootman, R. 2013b. “Babylonian, Macedonian, King of the World: The Antiochos Cylinder from
Borsippa and Seleukid Imperial Integration.” In E. Stavrianopoulou (ed.), Shifting Social Imaginaries in
the Hellenistic Period. Leiden, 67–​97.
Strootman, R. 2014. Courts and Elites in the Hellenistic Empires. Edinburgh.
Strootman, R. 2016. “The Heroic Company of my Forebears: The Ancestor Galleries of Antiochos I of
Kommagene and the Role of Royal Women in the Transmission of Hellenistic Kingship.” In Coşkun
and McAuley 2016: 209–​30.
Strootman, R. 2017. “Eunuchs, Renegades and Concubines: The ‘Paradox of Power’ and the Promotion of
Favorites in the Hellenistic Empires.” In Erskine, Llewellyn-​Jones, and Wallace 2017, 121–​42.
Strootman, R. 2018. “The Return of the King: Civic Feasting and the Entanglement of City and Empire
in Hellenistic Greece.” In F. van den Eijnde, J.H. Blok, and R. Strootman (eds.), Feasting and Polis
Institutions. Leiden, 273–​96.
Van Minnen, P. 2010. “Die Königinnen der Ptolemäerdynastie in papyrologischer und epigraphischer
Evidenz.” In A. Kolb (ed.), Augustae. Machtbewußte Frauen am römischen Kaiserhof. Berlin, 39–​54.
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Wenghofer, R., and Houle, D.J. 2015. “Marriage Diplomacy and the Political Role of Royal Women in the
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Widmer, M. 2015. “Apamè. Une reine au cœur de la construction d’un royaume.” In A. Bielman
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Wood, S.E. 1999. Imperial Women: A Study in Public Images, 40 B.C.-​A.D. 68. Leiden.
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From Asia Minor and the East. Sydney, 41–​6.

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29
ROYAL BROTHER–​SISTER
MARRIAGE, PTOLEMAIC AND
OTHERWISE
Sheila L. Ager

Sometime between 280 and 275 BCE1, Ptolemy II of Egypt, son of Ptolemy I and his queen
Berenike I, married his older sister, Arsinoë II. Arsinoë was also the child of Ptolemy I and
Berenike, and was thus her husband’s full sister. She had been previously and disastrously married
to a half-​brother on her father’s side—​a union considered legal and acceptable in ancient Athens
at least—​but a marriage between children of the same father and mother was unprecedented in
both Greek and Macedonian custom.2 The marriage of Arsinoë and Ptolemy evidently caused
at least some degree of shock: the Alexandrian poet Sotades was allegedly executed for mocking
the “unholy” nature of the union, while his contemporary Theokritos more strategically likened
it to the marriage of Zeus and Hera.3 It is possible that the shock value was calculated; it is cer-
tainly the case that Ptolemy and Arsinoë placed deliberate emphasis on the incestuous marriage
through their mutual adoption of the epithet Philadelphos (“Sibling-​Lover”) and their ultimate
deification as the Theoi Adelphoi (“the Sibling Gods”).4 The marriage was shocking (though
the level of shock seems to have been higher among Victorian-​era scholars than it actually was
in antiquity) because, it is generally said, it breached the incest taboo. Such a statement is not
entirely accurate, and prior to delving into the significance and purpose of the royal marital
patterns of the Hellenistic age, it is important to provide a more nuanced definition of “incest”
and to review the meaning of “taboo.”
While the terms incest and consanguinity are often used interchangeably, they do not mean
the same thing. Consanguinity is a biological factor: the degree of consanguinity in a relation-
ship is a straightforward measure of how much genetic material is shared between the partners.
Incest, on the other hand, is a culturally specific social construct, and while it is true enough that
incest has been frowned upon in virtually every human society, past and present, beliefs about
what in fact constitutes “incest” vary widely from culture to culture and over time.5 First-​cousin
marriage, for example, while certainly consanguineous, is legal throughout much of the world
today, and is not considered incestuous by those societies that allow it. On the other hand, Canada
bans marriage between adoptive siblings and the UK bans marriage with a wide variety of in-​
laws. In neither case are such marriages consanguineous; they are, however, clearly considered to
be incestuous. For the purposes of this chapter, incest will be understood in its most basic sense
of nuclear-​family and lineal ascendant/​descendant blood-​relationship unions: father–​daughter,
mother–​son, sister–​brother, grandfather–​granddaughter, and grandmother–​g randson. These are
unions that are in general eschewed in almost every human society.

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The marriage between Arsinoë II and Ptolemy II was unquestionably consanguineous—​full

siblings share the maximum amount of genetic material possible—​though such a designation
is generally most significant in the context of (inbred) offspring. Since the Philadelphoi had no
children together, it is the social construct of incest that has the most meaning here, and this
brings us to the question of the incest taboo. The Oxford English Dictionary defines taboo as
follows, in line with its original use in South Pacific cultures:

set apart for or consecrated to a special use or purpose; restricted to the use of a god,
a king, priests, or chiefs, while forbidden to general use; prohibited to a particular class
(esp. to women), or to a particular person or persons; inviolable, sacred; forbidden,
unlawful.
(OED, taboo, noun)6

The prohibition against incestuous behavior is thus not truly universal, in spite of general
claims to the contrary; in certain belief systems, incest is merely the prerogative of specific classes
of beings.
Many world mythologies, including the Greek, Persian, and Egyptian, envisioned the cre-
ation of the world as the outcome of sexual acts between closely-​related dyads (father–​daughter,
mother–​son, sister–​brother). Likewise, many cultures throughout history have elevated their
royalty to semi-​or fully-​divine status, and accorded them the prerogative to commit incest. It
is important to recognize that members of a royal house are not granted an “exception” to the
taboo, nor do they “break” the taboo; they simply play their own role within the framework of
taboo, allowed to engage in behaviors, because of their elevated status, that are barred to others.
So it is not the case that brother–​sister marriage among royalty is not incest simply because the
taboo allows it; rather, it is incest, and it is important and significant that it be recognized as such.
All incestuous marriages are endogamous, but not all endogamy is incest. Endogamous
marriage—​marriage within an in-​group, however that group is defined—​was common in
antiquity, and remains common in many contemporary societies. Religion, class, culture, eth-
nicity, status, and family and property considerations can all promote endogamy.7 Royalty by
its very nature constitutes an in-​group, and the tendency of royals to marry other royals creates
complex relationships: Queen Elizabeth II’s husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, is both her
second cousin and her third cousin once removed. The wars of Alexander’s Successors and
the establishment of the Hellenistic kingdoms featured a flurry of exogamous political inter-
marriage that within the span of a generation resulted in a situation similar to nineteenth and
twentieth-​century Europe, where the ruling families were all multiply related to each other,
and endogamy, in the sense of consanguinity, became a common pattern. Thus, Antigonos II of
Macedon married his niece, the Seleukid princess Phila, daughter of Seleukos I and Antigonos’
sister Stratonike, who had married Seleukos as part of a political pact between the latter and
her father Demetrios Poliorketes. In political terms, the marriage of Antigonos and Phila was
exogamous, but their close blood relationship made the marriage at the same time endogamous.
Later Antigonid rulers, such as Demetrios II and Perseus, also took brides from the Seleukid
house. But the other two leading dynasties—​the Ptolemies in Egypt and subsequently the
Seleukids in Asia—​adopted a pattern of brother–​sister marriage that was endogamous in all
senses of the word. The Ptolemies were leaders on this front, beginning with the marriage of
the Philadelphoi. While Ptolemy III married a cousin from Cyrene, Berenike II, their children
Ptolemy IV and Arsinoë II became the first full-​sibling couple in the dynasty to produce a child,
Ptolemy V, and for the next century and a half, the Ptolemies engaged in full-​sibling marriage
wherever possible.8 It may have been observation of their neighboring Ptolemaic rivals that led

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the Seleukids to their own experiments with brother–​sister marriage, though they would prob-
ably also have been aware of the incestuous marriages among the previous Achaimenid rulers
and perhaps also the Hekatomnids of Karia.9 Our first certain evidence for the adoption of
the sister–​brother ideology among the Seleukids comes in the reign of Antiochos III, who, like
Ptolemy III, addressed his queen Laodike III as “sister,” in spite of the fact that she was his first
cousin.10 The evocation of the sibling-​marriage was no doubt linked to the self-​presentation
of Antiochos III and Laodike III as the first Seleukid “power couple,” as Marie Widmer calls
them.11
The daughter of Antiochos III and Laodike III, Laodike IV, was married to her full brother
Antiochos, no doubt at the behest of the king (and perhaps the queen). Laodike IV outlived her
first brother-​husband, who died before his father did, sometime in 193. Subsequently she may
have married another full brother, Seleukos IV, again probably by the will of their father. After
Seleukos was murdered, Laodike may have married her third brother, Antiochos IV, who had
been detained as a hostage in Rome, but who returned to Syria upon the death of his brother
Seleukos and asserted his rights to the throne. After Antiochos’ death in 164, Seleukos IV’s son
Demetrios returned from his own Roman exile and took the throne as Demetrios I. According
to Livy (Per. 50), Demetrios I subsequently married a Laodike, and it is generally accepted,
though not a certainty, that this Laodike was Demetrios’ full sister, the widow of Perseus of
Macedon.
The marriage of Demetrios I and Laodike V, if indeed they were brother and sister, was the
last sibling marriage we know of in this dynasty. By the mid-​second century, a countervailing
marital tradition had arisen in the Seleukid kingdom.The practice of one queen marrying more
than one brother (initially Laodike IV, and later Kleopatra Thea) resulted in diverging lines of
half-​siblings and their children staking multiple claims to the throne.The ensuing dynastic chaos
was exploited by the Ptolemies, whether in a bid to lay claim to Seleukid territory, or to neu-
tralize potential Seleukid ambitions within the Ptolemaic kingdom. This exploitation took the
form of political-​military alliances with various Seleukid claimants and pretenders, sealed with
a marriage to a Ptolemaic princess.12 The first Ptolemaic bride to enter the Seleukid house in a
century was Kleopatra Thea, married by her father Ptolemy VI first to the pretender Alexander
Balas (150), and subsequently to Demetrios II (146). When Demetrios was captured by the
Parthians, Thea offered herself in marriage to Demetrios’ half-​brother and rival ruler Antiochos
VII. The children Thea had by her different husbands, particularly her sons Antiochos VIII and
Antiochos IX, continued the trend of half-​sibling rivalry that was slowly tearing the Seleukid
kingdom apart.
A clear-​cut pattern of brother–​sister marriage was thus a relatively short-​lived phenomenon
among the Seleukids, at least as far as our sources can tell us. Moreover, the numismatic and
epigraphic record suggests that after Kleopatra Thea, Seleukid emphasis on the figure of the
queen, the basilissa, and/​or the royal couple as a ruling unit was much attenuated. Antiochos
III had stressed the importance of Laodike III to his reign, addressing her as his sister, granting
her regency powers while he was campaigning in the East, and establishing a state cult in her
honor.13 Their daughter Laodike IV had a pivotal role in establishing royal legitimacy, acting
as queen to three of her brothers in succession; she was also the first Seleukid woman to be
portrayed on the coinage of the realm.14 Demetrios I and Laodike V appear to have emphasized
their sibling duality through the use of jugate portraiture on their coinage.15 With the death of
Kleopatra Thea around 121, however, queens largely disappear from the material record.
Among the three great dynasties of the Hellenistic world, then, the Ptolemies adopted
early on a custom of incestuous (chiefly sibling) marriage, which they clung to for well over
200 years; the Seleukids experimented with it, particularly under Antiochos III and his children

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and grandchildren, but the increasing complications of the dynasty and the interference of
Ptolemaic Egypt seem to have prevented them from engaging in it consistently; and the
Antigonids of Macedon seem never to have contemplated going down that road, the uncle–​
niece marriage of Antigonos II and the nephew–​aunt marriage of his son Demetrios II being
as close as they came. In the case of the Antigonids, who not only did not develop a custom of
sibling-​marriage, but also mostly eschewed intermarriage with other royalty, it seems likely that
their relationship with the old homeland of Macedon and with the Greek leagues and poleis
would have made it unwise to adopt the kind of elevating—​and potentially alienating—​practice
of kings assimilating themselves to the divine through a union that was taboo.16
We do, however, find evidence of sibling-​marriage in some of the lesser kingdoms of the
Hellenistic period, though none of them appears to have pursued it with quite the passion
and persistence of the Ptolemies. The Pontic and Kommagenian dynasties, which had often
intermarried with the Seleukids, featured full brother–​sister marriage in some generations.
Mithridates IV of Pontos was married to his sister Laodike, though they do not appear to have
had children; the pair adopted the dual epithet “Philadelphoi,” which they advertised on their
coinage, where, like Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II, they were portrayed in jugate fashion, with
images of Hera and Zeus on the reverse.17 Mithridates VI Eupator likewise married a sister
named Laodike. In Kommagene, the later pro-​Roman ruler Antiochos III Philokaisar married
his sister Iotape; the pair reproduced themselves exactly, producing the son who would become
Antiochos IV Epiphanes and the daughter Iotape who would marry him and take on the epi-
thet Philadelphos. As Elizabeth D. Carney points out, “sibling marriage enabled the current pair
to appear to reincarnate earlier pairs.”18
In the absence of secure evidence for the Seleukid ruler Antiochos I having married a half-​
sister, we must conclude that Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II, with whom we started this chapter,
were the initiators of sibling marriage among Hellenistic royals. This does not mean that they
invented the custom ex nihilo, or that all subsequent incestuous royal marriages were necessarily
undertaken in imitation of the Ptolemies. Much scholarly effort has gone into the search for the
motivations of the Philadelphoi, and numerous conjectures have been made: possible reasons
range from political pragmatism to subconscious symbolism. Carney’s recent monograph on
Arsinoë II provides a convenient summary of the many suggestions, not all of which are mutu-
ally exclusive.19
One possibility is that Ptolemy and Arsinoë were reacting against the polygamous model
that had dominated the previous generation. The multiple political marriages of the Successors
of Alexander resulted in dynastic situations that were ripe for conflict: specifically, what Daniel
Ogden calls amphimetric strife, rivalry between half-​siblings born of different mothers.20 By
three of his wives, Ptolemy I Soter had as many as a dozen sons and daughters, and the children
of his two Macedonian wives, Eurydike and Berenike, certainly fit Ogden’s paradigm.21 Ptolemy
held off designating his heir until perhaps the mid-​280s, and his two sons, each named Ptolemy,
both appear to have believed they were eligible. When Ptolemy finally settled on Berenike’s
child (the future Ptolemy II), Eurydike’s son (nicknamed Keraunos, “the Lightning-​Bolt”) left
Egypt, “in fear,” says Appian (Syr. 62).That fear may well have been justified, given that Ptolemy
II is said to have secured his hold on the throne by getting rid of his other half-​brothers (Paus.
1.7.1).
As for his sister Arsinoë, she too had experienced the dangers of amphimetric strife, dangers
that she, like her brother, may have had a hand in instigating. Her first marriage, to the Diadoch
Lysimachos, produced three sons. Lysimachos, however, already had a son and heir-​presumptive,
Agathokles. It may have been Arsinoë’s ambition on behalf of her children—​or concerns over
their security—​that led to the rivalry that tore apart the house of Lysimachos and ultimately

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put an end to his kingdom. Arsinoë herself escaped, along with her sons, but her subsequent
decision to marry her half-​brother Keraunos resulted in further disaster when he had her two
youngest sons murdered. Arsinoë fled to Samothrake, and thence to Egypt. Both Ptolemy
and Arsinoë, therefore, were survivors of polygamy and its dangerous side-​effects.22 From this
point on, no Ptolemaic king practiced polygamy, with the unusual exception of Ptolemy VIII
and his marriage to mother and daughter, Kleopatra II and Kleopatra III; the royal line was
now restricted to the offspring of monogamous unions. But avoidance of polygamy need not
necessitate marriage within the nuclear family. If incestuous marriage is nothing more than an
avoidance technique, there ought to be something more to avoid than the dangers of polygamy.
Political isolationism and restriction of privilege within the immediate family may have been
a factor, whether such insularity is construed as the evasion of international entanglements or
the shunning of ties with any other than the royal family in the domestic sphere. The dangers
of the former may be illustrated by the drama at the Seleukid court in the mid-​third century.
Antiochos II, already the father of at least two sons by his wife Laodike I, married Ptolemy II’s
daughter Berenike “Syra” in 252, as part of the settlement at the end of the Second Syrian War;
Berenike subsequently bore him a son. When Antiochos died unexpectedly in 246, rival claims
to the throne were put forward by both royal women on behalf of their sons. Berenike’s brother,
Ptolemy III of Egypt, took advantage of the situation to invade the Seleukid realm, ostensibly
for the sake of his sister and her child, though both of them may have been dead before he
reached Antioch. The ensuing Third Syrian War (and the Fratricidal War that grew out of it)
took a significant toll on the Seleukid kingdom.
If taking a foreign royal bride was hazardous, what about marrying into other high-​ranking
families? This too could prove risky, as is shown by the case of Achaios the Younger. Achaios’
genealogy is disputed, but his family line may have intersected with the Seleukid dynasty
on more than one occasion; Achaios himself was certainly both cousin and brother-​in-​law
to Antiochos III. Achaios had served as one of Seleukos III’s generals, and avenged Seleukos’
death when the latter was murdered on campaign in Asia Minor only three years after taking
the throne; although urged to take on the diadem himself, Achaios famously averred his loy-
alty to the Seleukid house and continued the campaign in the name of Seleukos’ younger
brother, Antiochos III. Ultimately, however, he succumbed to temptation, and named himself
king (Polyb. 4.48.11–​12).This seems to have taken place around the fall of 220, and for the next
seven years, Antiochos III was not in a position to reassert his authority in Asia Minor. Although
we are told that Achaios’ armies were unwilling to march against Antiochos himself, it is clear
that they supported Achaios’ Anatolian ambitions, and in all likelihood it was his connections
to the royal house, along with his military successes, that gave him the stature to declare himself
as a rival monarch.23
Avoidance of the hazards of political entanglement and restriction of privilege and power
to the immediate family, then, may have been pertinent pragmatic factors in encouraging the
extreme endogamy of the Ptolemies, and of the Seleukids at certain points in their history,
but there are other motivations to consider as well. Emulation of earlier models—​seeking
acceptance in the newly conquered lands by imitating the customs of their predecessors—​has
also been identified as a motivation.24 I believe there is something to be said for this argument,
though not perhaps in the ways that it has been formulated to date. It cannot be mere chance
that the custom of sibling-​marriage in the Hellenistic period flourished in precisely those
regions where Greek inhabitants were a minority among large indigenous populations with a
tradition of greatly elevated kingship.
Where previous arguments along these lines have tended to founder is in the discovery that
royal sibling-​marriage was not a consistent or even a dominant pre-Hellenistic custom in either

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Asia or Egypt. Ancient Greek writers, such as Diodoros and Pausanias, were convinced that
sister–​brother marriage was common in Egypt.25 Some decades ago, however, Jaroslav Černý
and Russell Middleton published studies that examined the Egyptian evidence thoroughly and
demonstrated that incestuous marriage, whether among royalty or commoners, was consid-
erably less frequent than popular belief (ancient or modern) has held.26 Nevertheless, we do
know that some pharaohs at least married their sisters or half-​sisters. As for Achaimenid Persia,
Maria Brosius argues that “the notion that Achaimenid kings entered incestuous alliances must
be dismissed.”27 Brosius’ arguments, however, seem to me to fall into the category of scholarly
attempts to explain incest by explaining it away. In other words, numerous scholars who have
examined the tradition of consanguineous royal marriage have tended to start from the a priori
assumption that (a) incest is bad; (b) allegations of incestuous behavior are therefore accusations
of bad behavior; and (c) such accusations must therefore be subjected to scholarly analysis with
a view to (potentially) rescuing their subjects from such false allegations. Such assumptions are
particularly the case with the Asians and the Egyptians: Herodotos, one of the first Orientalists,
cites Kambyses’ love for his sisters as evidence of his madness and criminal behavior.28 Brosius
therefore dismisses the story of Kambyses’ marriages to his sisters (at least one of them full) as
Egyptian propaganda.29 But there is no particular reason to reject Herodotos’ testimony on this
point, and certainly no reason to believe that the Egyptians—​themselves familiar with the con-
cept of royal incest—​would employ this tactic to tarnish Kambyses’ reputation (although it is
possible that they did highlight the story of his murder of his sister-​wife).30
Half-​sibling Achaimenid unions, of which the best-​known is probably that between Darius
II and his half-​sister Parysatis, are deemed non-​incestuous by Brosius on the grounds of the
oft-​cited Athenian law mentioned above (p. 346). But this law—​which is only attested for
Athens, not for other Greek cities—​cannot be applied broadly to other societies as a measure
of what was or was not considered incest in those societies (I come back to the inconsistency
of first cousin-​marriage in the modern world). Interestingly, Brosius accepts Plutarchos’ report
that Artaxerxes II, son of Darius II and Parysatis, married two of his daughters, as does Lloyd
Llewellyn-​Jones, who also is suspicious of Herodotos’ narrative about Kambyses.31
Not wishing to fall into the trap of explaining incest away myself, I remain agnostic on the
question of Artaxerxes’ marriage to his daughters.32 It is certainly true, however, that direct
lineal incest is much less common among royal dynasties, and usually inspires greater revul-
sion than sibling incest among onlookers. In their general study of incest, Jonathan Turner and
Alexandra Maryanski argue that there is a hierarchy of prohibitions against the various forms
of heterosexual nuclear-​family incest that is established by social norms and linked to psy-
chological impact.33 Other normative systems—​such as patriarchy or expectations of parental
nurturance—​may either support the incest prohibition or mitigate its strength. Turner and
Maryanski conclude that in general we may expect a moderate to strong prohibition against
brother–​sister incest; a strong prohibition against father–​daughter incest; and a very strong pro-
hibition against mother–​son incest. The psychological impact seems to vary proportionately
with the prohibition: sisters tend to suffer fewer psychopathologies than daughters, and sons
suffer most of all. The fact that, aside from the primordial pairing of Earth and Heaven, Gaia
and Ouranos, Greek myth features only one Oedipus suggests the Greeks did indeed think of
mother–​son as the most appalling type.34 We have no known examples of lineal incest in the
Hellenistic period, in spite of occasional speculation to the contrary. As we have seen, though,
both father–​daughter and mother–​son incest appear in ancient myth systems, and we do have
Pharaonic evidence for father–​daughter marriages. The evidence for Akhenaten’s marriages
to his daughters is disputed, but the record states that both Amenhotep III and Ramesses II
married one or more daughters.35

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If we return to the starting point of this particular argument, we may conclude that prior to
the Hellenistic period both the Achaimenid line and the Pharaonic dynasties did in fact furnish
numerous examples of endogamous marriage that at times featured nuclear-​family incest, par-
ticularly brother–​sister unions, whether full or half. We may also conclude that in neither case
was incestuous marriage the norm, though regular intermarriage with a select elite of noble or
priestly families may have meant that a great number of royal marriages were consanguineous
without necessarily being incestuous. Thus sibling-​marriage was a possibility, but it was not a
rule. If either the Ptolemies or the Seleukids thought to model themselves on their predecessors
in order to gratify local populations, there was no need to adopt incest as a consistent pattern,
but the fact that the examples were there before them may have given the Ptolemies in par-
ticular some inspiration.
In my view, however, to conclude that Hellenistic rulers chose sibling-​marriage as a way
of assimilating themselves to previous ruling dynasties, is to skip a step in this process. I would
argue that the real factor was not a regional tradition of incestuous marriage per se, but rather
a tradition of supremely exalted monarchy. The Egyptian pharaoh and the Persian great king
were godlike and unapproachable beings, set off from the normal run of humankind, and their
engagement in incestuous marriage was simply one of many manifestations of their stature.
When Alexander adopted even a modicum of Achaimenid style, it provoked anger and resist-
ance in many of his men, who saw him as seeking to alienate himself from his Macedonian roots
and making himself too “grand.” It seems that the Hellenistic rulers of Macedon absorbed this
lesson: as we have already seen, the Antigonids were careful not to give the same kind of offense,
whether by incestuous marriage or by other markers of lofty kingship.
Cultural imitation, then, while it may have played a role in suggesting models to some
Hellenistic rulers in Asia and Egypt, does not provide a full rationale for the practice of royal
sibling incest; its appearance in some Asian and Pacific cultures, as well as in Africa and South
America, is enough to rule out cultural diffusion as a primary cause.36 I have pointed out that
the taboo restricts incest to a particular class of beings, and the practice of incest may maintain
and strengthen the integrity of that class. Exalted monarchs may choose to keep their special
blood “pure” by refusing to mingle it with that of lesser beings. Indeed, Brent Shaw has argued
that not only did the Ptolemaic dynasty set itself apart in this manner by the second gener-
ation, the non-​royal Greek and Macedonian settlers also assimilated themselves to their rulers
by viewing themselves as part of the ruling class and turning inward to brother–​sister marriage
rather than mingling their blood with that of Egyptians.37 The argument may be good as far as it
goes, but surely if the necessity to keep the strain pure is the root of royal incest, the Achaimenid
king and the Egyptian pharaoh would have been far more assiduous in their adherence to inces-
tuous marriage. Many pharaohs were the sons of women of non-​royal blood, a circumstance
that by definition also means they were the offspring of non-​incestuous unions.38
The notion of royalty as a special class of beings naturally segues into the divine assimilation
argument: to engage in taboo behaviors is to declare that one is at least semi-​divine, since the
gods are allowed to have incestuous relations. The adoption of divine behaviors need not be
tied to any particular deity, but as it happens the Ptolemies had ready-​made models on both
the Greek and the Egyptian side. The sibling-​spouses Zeus and Hera were an obvious choice,
and were deliberately evoked in Theokritos’ encomium on Ptolemy II (Idyll 17); the Ptolemaic
courtier and admiral Kallikrates erected statues of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II at Olympia, facing
the temples of Hera and Zeus.39 An even better model was provided by the Egyptian triad of
Osiris, Isis, and Horus, already inextricably tied to the Pharaonic throne.40 The mutual love of
Isis and Osiris was celebrated: according to Plutarchos, they made love even while still in the
womb (Mor. 356a). Moreover, the murder and dismemberment of Osiris by Set, Isis’ mourning,

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her collection of his scattered limbs, her partial revivification of his dead body, and her con-
ception of Horus from it, all resonate with the brutality and the sexuality of early cosmogonic
myths which emphasize both the chaos and the creative power of incest.
I remain convinced that it is the symbolic value of incest that is at the core of dynastic
decisions to pursue it, whether consistently, as did the Ptolemies, or intermittently, as did some
of the other Hellenistic dynasties.41 Incest is a marker of the special status of those who rule: a
behavior so shocking can only be engaged in by those who are powerful enough to endure it.
Not only does incestuous marriage signal their power to the rest of the world, it also bestows
power upon them, the power of creation. Incestuous relationships in mythology, whether
engaged in by gods or humans, are inevitably fruitful.This is particularly the case in cosmogonic
myths, where the world moves from a state of primordial chaos to something more ordered,
where humankind can survive. It is not surprising that such myths feature incestuous relations
of all kinds, given that incest itself represents disorder and chaos; it is the paradoxical role of
incestuous sexual relations to start bringing order to that chaos, in part by the creation of beings
who can have non-​incestuous relations.
Such creativity and fruitfulness also find expression in customs of royal beneficence, and are
made visual in the Ptolemaic badge, the cornucopia. Again, I think it is no coincidence that we
find the custom of sibling-​marriages taking hold in the Egyptian and the Asian realms, where
the kings traditionally played a role in defeating chaos and bringing about cosmic order.42 But
the symbolic value of incest is inherent in each iteration, and the question of earlier models is in
some senses almost irrelevant. The Ptolemies were not simply engaging in a hollow and mean-
ingless imitation of earlier cultural practice—​they were themselves powerful cosmic beings,
with no need to defer to the antecedence of the pharaohs.
In the context of a volume on women and monarchy in antiquity, the underlying rationale
for sibling-​marriage may be less significant than the apparent impact of this practice. Shrouding
incest in a blanket of shame—​as some earlier scholars supposed was the case—​undoes all its
symbolic power. We would expect, then, to see royal incestuous marriage publicly celebrated,
and so we do. The poetry of Theokritos and Kallimachos, the adoption of epithets such as
Philadelphos, the persistent practice in both Ptolemaic and Seleukid documents of addressing
the king’s wife as “sister” (whether she was or not), the celebration of sister-​wives in coinage
and in cult: all of these add up to a remarkable emphasis on the figure of the queen. Ptolemaic
women in particular were portrayed as avatars of love and beauty, and were frequently associated
with or assimilated to Aphrodite, as were the Seleukid queens Stratonike and Laodike III.
Scholars frequently hasten to add that this association was with Aphrodite in her role as patron
of marital love, rather than Aphrodite the goddess of sexual desire and gratification. I am not
sure that we need to make this distinction, any more than we need to assume that Ptolemaic or
Seleukid kings and queens tried to play down their incestuous relationships. On the contrary,
I believe they celebrated the sexuality of the female partner in particular, which in turn drew
attention to the incest.
It may have been primarily the queen who was celebrated for her beauty and sexuality—​not
unlike the modern phenomenon of “trophy wives” of powerful men—​but Sabine Müller’s
2009 study has demonstrated the ways in which sibling-​marriages also entailed an ideology that
focused on the ruling pair as a natural couple. This phenomenon is embodied in the official
Ptolemaic cult that venerated the duality of each generation of deified rulers: the Theoi Soteres
(“Savior Gods”), the Theoi Adelphoi (“Sibling Gods”), the Theoi Euergetai (“Beneficent Gods”),
and so on. Ptolemy II, who initiated the custom of sibling-​marriage and who placed enormous
emphasis on his sister-​wife Arsinoë in literature, art and cult, also chose to advertise that she was
his natural political partner as well. In the famous Chremonides Decree, Ptolemy states that in

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supporting Athens against Antigonid Macedon, he is following the policy of his ancestors and
“of his sister.” In the Egyptian monument known as the Pithom Stele, Ptolemy again references
the wise counsel of Arsinoë: “The king discussed with his sister, the wife and sister of the king,
to protect Kemet (Egypt) against enemies.”43
Older scholarship had a tendency to see Arsinoë II—​Ptolemy’s elder by perhaps as much
as eight years—​as a domineering woman who forced her way into her weak-​minded brother’s
counsels and his bed. This image of Arsinoë (and of Ptolemy) is long gone, and I believe it is
even possible to go to the other extreme, and argue that her role and her influence were only
what her brother-​husband allowed them to be. But as time went on, Ptolemaic sister-​queens
certainly did gain a stature—​and a real power—​that put them on a par with the Ptolemaic kings.
Kleopatra II and Kleopatra III in the second century, and Kleopatra VII in the first, are particu-
larly imposing examples of ancient female monarchy.
The practice of sibling-​marriage ensured that these women were from birth marked out
for a special rank and role. Unlike royal brides who married into the ruling house of another
kingdom, such as the unfortunate Berenike Syra, sister-​brides shared everything with their
brother-​husbands as they grew up: family, status, upbringing, relationships, and so on.44 Not
only would this situation ease the transition into the role of wife of the ruler, it would also
give the queen equal importance to the king as a repository of royal power: sister-​queens
such as Kleopatra II and Laodike IV played a pivotal role in their brothers’ accession to the
throne. And although it is dangerous to make assertions about the psychological makeup of
historical individuals, it is tempting to speculate that the assertiveness of many Ptolemaic
queens is to be connected to the healthy egos they may have developed in a context where
they were seen as significant—​perhaps even the equals of their brothers—​from the moment
they were born.

Royal brother–​sister marriage: appendix

Royal Hellenistic marriages closer than first cousin
The Argeads
• Ptolemy of Aloros and Eurynoë, daughter of Amyntas III (?) (half-​siblings?)
• Alexander I of Epiros and Kleopatra, daughter of Philip II and Olympias (uncle–​niece)
• Philip III Arrhidaios and Adea-​Eurydike (uncle–​niece)

The Ptolemies
• Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II (full siblings)
• Ptolemy IV and Arsinoë III (full siblings)
• Ptolemy VI and Kleopatra II (full siblings)
• Ptolemy VIII and Kleopatra II (full siblings)
• Ptolemy VIII and Kleopatra III (uncle–​niece)
• Ptolemy IX and Kleopatra IV (full siblings)
• Ptolemy IX and Kleopatra Selene (full siblings)
• Ptolemy X and Kleopatra Berenike III (uncle–​niece)
• Ptolemy XII and Kleopatra V Tryphaina (full or half-​siblings)
• Ptolemy XIII and Kleopatra VII (full siblings; almost certainly unconsummated)
• Ptolemy XIV and Kleopatra VII (full siblings; almost certainly unconsummated)

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The Seleukids
• Antiochos I and Nysa (?) (half-​siblings?; Ogden 1999: 124–​5)
• Antiochos II and Laodike I (half-​siblings?; Ogden 1999: 124)
• Laodike IV and Antiochos the Son (full siblings)
• Laodike IV and Seleukos IV (full siblings)
• Laodike IV and Antiochos IV (full siblings)
• Demetrios I and Laodike V (full siblings)

The Antigonids
• Antigonos II and Phila II (uncle–​niece)
• Demetrios II and Stratonike (nephew–​aunt)

Epiros
• Arybbas and Troas, daughter of Neoptolemos I (uncle–​niece)
• Alexander I of Epiros and Kleopatra, daughter of Philip II and Olympias (uncle–​niece)
• Olympias, daughter of Pyrrhos I and Antigone, and Alexander II, son of Pyrrhos I and
Lanassa (half-​siblings)

Pontos
• Mithridates IV and Laodike (full siblings)
• Mithridates VI and Laodike (full siblings)

Kommagene
• Mithridates II and Antiochis (?) (full siblings)
• Antiochos III and Iotape (full siblings)
• Antiochos IV and Iotape (full siblings)

Notes
1 All dates in this chapter are BCE.
2 On the evidence for half-​sibling marriage in Athens, see Harrison 1968: 22–​3.
3 Plut. Mor. 11a; Athenaios 621a; Theokritos Idyll 17.131–​4.
4 Ager 2005; Müller 2009: 134–​53, 262–​6; Carney 2013: 79–​80; Muccioli 2013: 203–​8.
5 The only known examples of nuclear-​family consanguineous marriages among non-​royalty are in
Egypt during the Roman period (and probably the Hellenistic period as well) and Zoroastrian Persia.
6 For discussions of the incest taboo, see Arens 1986; Turner and Maryanski 2005.
7 See Müller 2013.
8 Ptolemy III still evoked the ideology of sibling-​marriage by referring to his cousin-​wife as his “sister;”
see van Oppen 2015: 35–​8.
9 For a summary of Seleukid sibling-​marriages, see Ogden 1999: 124–​8, 134–​7, 140–​3, 146–​7; on the
Hekatomnids, see Carney 2005 and Chapter 14 in this volume.
10 Ma 2000: nos. 2, 17, 18, 26, 37.
11 Widmer 2019: 34; see also Widmer 2008; Chapter 17 in this volume.
12 See Ehling 2008: 154–​64, 213–​14, 219–​21, 226–​8; Chrubasik 2016: 129–​35, 142–​4, 166–​76.
13 See Widmer 2008; 2019.

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Sheila L. Ager

14 Houghton, Lorber, and Hoover 2008: nos. 1318, 1332, 1368; 1371, 1407, 1421, 1422, 1441, 1477; Ager
and Hardiman 2016.
15 Houghton, Lorber, and Hoover 2008: no. 1691. See Chapter 30 in this volume.
16 One exception is the marriage of Perseus to Laodike, daughter of Seleukos IV, a marriage attended by
so much pomp and public ceremony that it drew the (unwelcome) attention of the Romans (Plb. 25.4;
Livy 42.12). See Chapter 26.
17 De Callataÿ 2009: 77–​8, figs. 39–​41. Muccioli argues in favor of the possibility that “Philadelphos” in
Mithridates’ case refers to his relationship with his brother Pharnakes I (2013: 212–​13), but the pres-
entation of the brother–​sister pair is a clear evocation of Ptolemaic precedents. For the jugate coinage
of the Philadelphoi, see Lorber 2018: nos. 307–​19, 707–​8. See Chapter 30 in this volume.
18 Carney 2013: 77.
19 Carney 2013: 70–​82. See also (int. al.) Carney 1987; Ager 2005; Buraselis 2008; Rowlandson and
Takahashi 2009.
20 Ogden 1999: ix–​xxxiv.
21 Ogden 1999: 59–​62, 70–​3.
22 See Müller 2009: 18–​84; Krevans 2012; Carney 2013: 40–​64, 76–​7.
23 D’Agostini 2018.
24 Macurdy 1932: 118; Ogden 1999: 77–​8; Buraselis 2008.
25 Diod. 1.27.1; Paus. 1.7.1.The late date of these writers suggests that their views may have been clouded
by both Ptolemaic practice and by the custom of sister-​brother marriage among non-​royals attested in
Roman Egypt (it seems highly likely, although the evidence is scarce, that non-​royal sibling marriage
had already begun in Hellenistic Egypt; see Modrzejewski 2005: 351–​2).
26 Černý 1954; Middleton 1962. See also Robins 1993: 26–​7.
27 Brosius 1996: 81; cf. also Bigwood 2009.
28 To be fair, Herodotos cites the murder of one of his sister-​wives as an example of Kambyses’ kaka (bad
actions), not the marriage itself. Cf. Sancisi-​Weerdenburg 1983 on the Orientalist approach of the west
in its concept of Persian royal women.
29 Brosius 1996: 81.
30 Ogden 1999: 126.
31 Plut. Artax. 23, 27; Brosius 1996: 30, 69; Llewellyn-​Jones 2013: 116.
32 The question of incestuous marriage among the Achaimenids inevitably brings Zoroastrianism and the
practice of xwēdōdah (achieving virtue through brother–​sister, father–​daughter, and son–​mother incest)
into the discussion. Although the Achaimenid rulers worshiped Ahura Mazda, it is far from certain that
all Zoroastrian beliefs and practices were present at this early stage of Persian history; all our sources on
xwēdōdah are quite late.The Sasanian rulers do seem to have consciously practiced incestuous marriage.
See Frandsen 2009: 60–​103 for an extensive discussion of the sources.
33 Turner and Maryanski 2005: 65–​81. This particular portion of their study is not culturally specific.
34 See Rudhardt 1982: 749–​51.
35 Robins 1993: 29; Dodson and Hilton 2004: 35, 146–​8, 169.
36 See Arens 1986: 8–​9.
37 Shaw 1992; cf. Modrzejewski 2005.
38 Robins 1993: 27–​9; Dodson and Hilton 2004: 17.
39 IOlympia 306, 307; see Carney 2013: 79, 97.
40 Buraselis 2008; Krevans 2012.
41 Ager 2005: 20–​8; 2006: 174–​9; see also Rudhardt 1982; Arens 1986.
42 Koenen 1993; Frandsen 2009: 89.
43 IG II2 687 l. 17; CM 22183 (translation at www.attalus.org/​docs/​other/​inscr_​258.html (accessed
July 31, 2019)). Antiochos III also emphasized his political partnership with Laodike III (see Ma
2000: no. 17).
44 This is not to suggest that all Ptolemaic couples shared identical interests and friends; Ptolemy IV and
Arsinoë III in particular seem to have lived separate lives.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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Ager, S.L. 2006.“The Power of Excess: Royal Incest and the Ptolemaic Dynasty.” Anthropologica 48: 165–​86.
Ager, S. L., and C. Hardiman. 2016. “Female Seleukid Portraits: Where Are They?” In A. Coşkun and A.
McAuley (eds.), Seleukid Royal Women: Creation, Representation, and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship in
the Seleukid Empire. Stuttgart, 143–​72.
Arens, W. 1986. The Original Sin: Incest and its Meaning. Oxford.
Bigwood, J. 2009. “‘Incestuous’ Marriage in Achaemenid Iran: Myths and Realities.” Klio 91: 311–​41.
Brosius, M. 1996. Women in Ancient Persia (559–​331 BC). Oxford.
Buraselis, K. 2008. “The Problem of the Ptolemaic Sibling Marriage: A Case of Dynastic Acculturation?”
In P. McKechnie and P. Guillaume (eds.), Ptolemy II Philadelphus and his World. Leiden, 291–​302.
Carney, E.D. 1987. “The Reappearance of Royal Sibling Marriage in Ptolemaic Egypt.” Parola del passato
42: 420–​39.
Carney, E.D. 2005. “Women and Dunasteia in Caria.” American Journal of Philology 126: 65–​91.
Carney, E.D. 2013. Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life. Oxford.
Černý, J. 1954. “Consanguineous Marriage in Pharaonic Egypt.” Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 40: 23–​9.
Chrubasik, B. 2016. Kings and Usurpers in the Seleukid Empire: The Men Who Would Be King. Oxford.
D’Agostini, M. 2018. “Asia Minor and the Many Shades of a Civil War: Observations on Achaios the
Younger and his Claim to the Kingdom of Anatolia.” In K. Erickson (ed.), War within the Family: A
Reassessment of the First Half-​Century of Seleucid Rule. Swansea: 59–​81.
De Callataÿ, F. 2009. “The First Royal Coinages of Pontos, from Mithridates III to Mithridates V.” In
J. Munk Høtje (ed.), Mithridates VI and the Pontic Kingdom. Aarhus, 63–​94.
Dodson, A., and D. Hilton. 2004. The Complete Royal Families of Ancient Egypt. London.
Ehling, K. 2008. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der späten Seleukiden (164–​63 v. Chr.). Stuttgart.
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Evidence. Copenhagen.
Houghton, A., Lorber, C., and Hoover, O. 2008. Seleucid Coins: A Comprehensive Catalogue, Part II : Seleucus
IV through Antiochus XIII. New York.
Koenen, L. 1993. “The Ptolemaic King as a Religious Figure.” In A. Bulloch et al. (eds.), Images and
Ideologies: Self-​Definition in the Hellenistic World. Berkeley, 25–​115.
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Ma, J. 2000. Antiochos III and the Cities of Western Asia Minor. Oxford.
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30
JUGATE IMAGES
IN PTOLEMAIC AND JULIO-​
CLAUDIAN MONARCHY
Dimitris Plantzos

Introduction
The artifacts discussed in this chapter—​mostly coins, seals, and engraved gemstones—​carry
a distinctive type of imagery, in most cases associating a male ruler with his female consort.
Devised as a symbol of political strength and permanence, the conjoined depiction of the two
members of a ruling couple was widely used in the Greco-​Roman world, as well as its per-
iphery, and produced some considerable spin-​offs (with a pair of siblings, for example, or a
divine instead of a royal pair).The examples to be discussed in this chapter cover this entire span,
from Ptolemaic Egypt (where the scheme was first designed) and the Hellenistic East at large to
Rome in the time of the late republic and the Julio-​Claudians.

Sibling gods and mother-​loving kings

Ptolemaic ideals of kingship were fashioned partly on the Pharaonic tradition and partly on the
Greco-​Persian model established by Alexander.1 This meant that a Ptolemaic king served both
as a Hellenistic basileus and as local pharaoh; as such, he embodied the state as a charismatic ruler
approved of and protected by the gods, while at the same time, as pharaoh, he was seen as the
earthly manifestation of Horus, invincible and ever victorious.
In both traditions, sovereignty drew its legitimacy from dynastic continuity, and the royal
couple soon came to symbolize this. Ptolemy Philadelphos was the first to add the living royal
couple to the cult of Alexander (possibly in 272/​1 BCE), first as the “temple-​sharing gods”
(Theoi Synnaoi) and then as the “sibling gods” (Theoi Adelphoi);2 these were Ptolemy II and his
sibling-​wife Arsinoë, joined in a hieros gamos (“holy marriage”) according to a precedent set by
Zeus and Hera (or Dione; see p. 363), as well as many a pharaonic couple.3 The third Ptolemaic
couple were later incorporated into the dynastic cult as the “benefactor gods” (Theoi Euergetai),
but it was only Ptolemy IV who, retrospectively, added his great-​g randparents, the “savior gods”
(Theoi Soteres), a divine epithet established already under Philadelphos, to the cultic sequence.
The result was a collective, and dynamic, dynastic cult celebrating the legitimacy and the con-
tinuity of the state in the face of its ruling couples. This was a Ptolemaic invention, later to be
exported to the Seleukids and other Hellenistic kingdoms, such as Kommagene.

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Dimitris Plantzos

Figure 30.1 Gold octodrachm issued by King Ptolemy II Philadelphos /​Ptolemy III Euergetes of
Egypt (obverse); Jugate busts of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II; c. 261/​260–​240 BCE
Source: Athens, National Numismatic Museum; inv. no. 455 (Demetriou Collection)

Doing politics through coinage was another habit the Ptolemies inherited from Alexander
(and the Argeads before him);4 heavily politicized coin imageries, in particular, became a trade-
mark Macedonian practice that they developed to perfection. The jugate-​busts scheme itself,
that is the representation of a royal or divine couple in close up, seated side-​by-​side and usually
facing right, seems to have been invented to be employed as a propaganda device on Ptolemaic
coinage.5 It may have been derived from earlier Greek/​Macedonian art, mostly reliefs, where
two individuals were shown to sit, stand, or advance side by side;6 pharaonic imageries, on
the other hand, tomb-​paintings and temple reliefs more likely, may also have provided the
inspiration for this new pictorial type.7 Ptolemaic coins often show fuller busts of deities and
rulers (that is, a complete depiction of the head, in profile, the neck, and the upper part of the
shoulders in three-​quarter view, customarily draped), whereas Macedonian, Seleukid, and other
Hellenistic coinages tend to favor simpler depictions of heads, down to a decorative, undulating
cut-​line at the lower neck.
The first official, and securely dated, image of a Ptolemaic couple in jugate depiction comes
from a monumental series of gold octodrachms and tetradrachms (approximately 27.8 and 14
grams respectively) introduced by Philadelphos in the 260s BCE as a means of glorifying the
newly established dynasty (see Figures 30.1 and 30.2).
The obverse shows the Adelphoi facing right, with a shield symbol behind them (a symbol
of military worthiness as well as civic safe keeping); on the reverse, Ptolemy I and Berenike are
shown, also in jugate depiction. Both wear diadems, and their shoulders are draped. Ptolemy
Soter is shown older (though not as old as he was when he died), with clenched lips, pointy
nose, deep-​set eyes and rather unruly hair. Philadelphos looks younger, and better groomed.
He is sporting a sideburn, and the characteristic big, well-​rounded eye that will soon become
a Ptolemaic trademark. His shoulder is draped with a chlamys-​like garment, possibly the
porphyra, the purple-​dyed cloak worn by royalty in Hellenistic art, though mostly on coins
and gems.8
The two royal consorts are shown partially covered by their kings. They look significantly
alike, as does Arsinoë to her brother, Philadelphos. Both women wear the “melon coiffure,”

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Jugate images

Figure 30.2 Gold octodrachm issued by King Ptolemy II Philadelphos /​Ptolemy III Euergetes of
Egypt (reverse); Jugate busts of Ptolemy I and Berenike I; c. 261/​260–​240 BCE
Source: Athens, National Numismatic Museum; inv. no. 455 (Demetriou Collection)

a heavy, intricately massive hairstyle typical of royal women in the early Hellenistic period
(though not exclusive to them).They both wear diadems and their shoulders are loosely draped.
Their noses are pointy, their lips tight, their chins look rounded and their jowls are heavy. They
are depicted as ideal supplements to their royal husbands—​regal and, in effect, divine.9
The Arsinoë of the Theon Adelphon series—​and, by extension, the portrait of her mother—​
is comparable to the female coin-​portrait types created by the Ptolemies for their consorts.
Arsinoë herself was given a long-​lived series of silver decadrachms, gold octodrachms and (later)
silver tetradrachms soon after her death in c. 270 BCE that continued well into the second
century BCE.10 She is shown on the obverse on her own, wearing the diadem underneath a
stephane (thin, pointy crown), and partly covered by the apoptygma (overfold) of her peplos by
means of a “veil.” A ram’s horn decorates her ear (a reference to a Pharaonic counterpart?) and
the tip of a scepter is usually discernible rising from her side and above her head. The reverse
bears the symbol of the dikeras, a double cornucopia apparently designed for her.11 This is cer-
tainly the image of a deified royal woman, a beneficent basilissa thanked for the prosperity and
well-​being of her people. Although on her posthumous coinage Arsinoë is only identified with
her royal epithet (Philadelphos), Berenike II, royal consort of Ptolemy III, is called a basilissa
(“royal woman”) on hers, where she is shown quite similar to her predecessor, though with a
single cornucopia and without any direct references to deification (such as Arsinoë’s horn).12
These regal images are also present on seals, gems, and signet rings of the period, although with
these, for the lack of inscriptions or any other historical context, we are generally at difficulty to
identify them with any certainty (some of those women might not be royal at all).13
The message of the Theon Adelphon series is clear to anyone handling or—​better still—​
possessing the coins: dynastic continuity is secured through familial ties going back to the Age
of Alexander, and dynastic stability guarantees the prosperity symbolized by the coin at hand.
The words THEON ADELPHON (“of the sibling gods”), the cult name of Ptolemy II and his
sibling-​wife Arsinoë, were first placed together on the obverse of the coin, later to be divided
between the two sides,THEON now seemingly referring to the Soteres, though not necessarily
implying their deification.14 Though the coins were struck well below the weight implied by

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their denominations (a full octodrachm ought to weigh almost 28.5 grams),15 the names they
were commonly identified with suggested their political as well as fiscal importance: the gold
octodrachm was called a mnaeon, a name that suggested it was worth a full mna or 100 silver
drachms. Accordingly, the tetradrachm was called a pentekontadrachmon, that is, a piece of 50
(silver) drachms. Besides confirming that silver remained the basis for monetary exchange across
the Hellenistic world, the two names also help translate their obvious worth into their irresist-
ible street value: combined with their physical attraction, their intrinsic value reflects onto the
personages of the four royal persons depicted, confirming their own worth as rulers and their
potency as divinities.
The impact of the jugate scheme must have been considerable. A mysterious plaster cast,
allegedly from the Fayum in Egypt, seems to confirm this, albeit in a circumspect way.16 The
piece is made of stucco, and it is of irregular shape with its maximum diameter measuring just
under 15 cm. It shows two jugate busts, a draped man and a veiled woman, in relief. Unlike
their counterparts from coinage, these turn left. The diadem the man wears suggests the two
personages are royal, and their physiognomies, as well as the piece’s alleged findspot indicates
they may be members of the Ptolemaic dynasty. Indeed, following the precedent of the dyn-
astic octodrachms and tetradrachms discussed above (p. 360), they seem more likely to be
either Ptolemy I and Berenike or Ptolemy II and Arsinoë. Contrary to the coins, however, the
images on the cast appear heavily idealized. The noses of the two portraits have been tampered
with (already in antiquity?), with that of the man leaving a visible “ghost” on the cheek of his
companion. The man’s strong cheek and pumped-​up forehead, as well as his once pointy nose,
suggest he is Ptolemy Soter rather than his son Philadelphos, which would make the piece a
depiction of the Theoi Soteres. The piece is apparently not a show piece in itself, but a cast made
to be used in the making of another, presumably metal, artifact.
But a cast of what? A general consensus among earlier scholars seems to be that the cast
was taken from a piece of metalwork or a mold for the replication of some sort of metal dec-
oration portraying the royal couple; in this case it would serve as the mold for the making
further molds. Some have hypothesized on the cast being a copy of a “grand cameo” of the
early Ptolemaic period, though this does not seem to be verified by either archaeological evi-
dence or technical probability.17 At any rate, the Alexandria cast provides us with a glimpse into
what an idealized depiction of the savior gods might look like in early Ptolemaic art besides
coinage. The depiction need not be earlier than the dynastic coin-​series; as a matter of fact, its
idealization and possible reworking in antiquity seem to confirm that the portraits were post-
humous and quite possibly were switched from the Soteres to (perhaps) the Philadelphoi at
some point after the piece’s construction (this would mean that after having served as a joint
depiction of the Soteres the image was cast anew and modified to portray the Philadelphoi).
In any case, the piece provides a good depiction of a “state couple” of the early Ptolemaic
period: the two busts, suitably idealized, attired and coiffed, suggest their royal as well as divine
nature as confirmation of their regal power and ability to rule, safeguarding their realm and
their royal subjects.
A series of silver tetradrachms from the reign of Ptolemy IV Philopator (222–​205 BCE)
indicates a new twist in the jugate scheme’s career: the coins represent the archetypical divine
couple, Sarapis and Isis, in the way the Soteres and the Philadelphoi had been depicted in
the previous decades.18 The two divinities are shown in bust, draped, facing right; their facial
characteristics (despite Sarapis’ beard) and expressions recall those of the kings shown on the
dynastic octodrachms and tetradrachms. Sarapis is wearing a minuscule atef crown (once mis-
taken for a “lotus bud” by early students of Greek numismatics) and Isis wears the horns-​and-​
disk crown she shared with Hathor in pharaonic iconography. The reverse shows a Ptolemaic

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eagle facing left, though turning his head backward, toward a dikeras hovering over his back.The
entire scheme seems to suggest Ptolemaic leadership in the form of a royal couple mirroring a
divine one (whereas in fact it is the gods who adopt here the imagery of the kings).19 This does
not mean that Ptolemaic kings were ever assimilated to Sarapis (Ptolemy Epiphanes may have
been an exception, and this posthumously). The women of the Ptolemaic royal family, however,
were gradually assimilated to Isis—​both as a royal consort and a queen mother—​which was
crucial for dynastic continuity and stability. Inevitably, though perhaps also non-​intentionally,
the facial features of Isis on these depictions seem to evoke those of the ruling queen (or a dead
queen mother), an intriguing suggestion to which we will turn below (see p. 364).
Signet rings were quick to adopt the Sarapis/​Isis jugate scheme, as we can tell from a seal-​
impression found affixed on a papyrus from Elephantine (Papyrus XXIII) dating from 223/​
2 BCE.20 A much later papyrus, from 138 CE, states that a witness to a transaction seals the
document with a glymma (seal-​impression) “of Isis and Sarapis.”21 A massive gold ring, now in
London, is a good example of the type.22 A number of engraved gems, roughly dated to the
later third, second, and first centuries BCE, as well as many later ones, also carry the scheme.23
At a later point, the jugate-​busts depiction was adopted by other divinities as well.24 A variant
of the scheme, two frontal busts shown side by side, may be found on a gold medallion now
in New York.25 The two busts recreate the divine personages as shown on Philopator’s coins
(though here with Isis on Sarapis’ right rather than the other way round); the piece is difficult to
date, though it must be later than the coins, possibly second or first century BCE. The Sarapis-​
and-​Isis jugate busts were exported to the numismatic imagery of at least one other Hellenistic
territory, Epirus in northwestern Greece: during the third and second centuries BCE, the jugate
busts of Zeus Dodoneus alongside his (local) consort Dione are featured on the obverse of the
silver staters issued by the Epeirote League, an obvious inspiration derived from Philopator’s
coins.26
Returning to depictions of royals, the jugate-​ busts scheme was soon exported from
Alexandria to other Hellenistic kingdoms. Kleopatra Thea, first, herself a Ptolemaic princess
(she was the daughter of Ptolemy VI Philometor), adopted the scheme when she became a
royal consort and eventually a basilissa in Seleukid Syria.27 Kleopatra became the wife of three
successive Seleukid kings from 150 to 125 BCE (Alexandros Balas, Demetrios II Nikator, and
Antiochos VII Sidetes), and died at the hands of her son and co-​regent Antiochos VIII Grypos,
who, fearing for his own life, murdered her in 121 BCE. Kleopatra’s coins, where she is accom-
panied by a cornucopia as were her Ptolemaic counterparts, name her a basilissa and a thea
eueteria (“a goddess of fertility”). She is shown next to her first husband, Balas, and actually
occupying the foreground of the representation, her bust overshadowing his.28 Twenty-​five
years later, on an issue of 125–​121 BCE, Kleopatra, who was by then sharing the throne with
her son by Demetrios Nikator, Antiochos Grypos, has him appear next to her on their dynastic
coinage.29 She is once again shown as the senior partner in their union, a practice later to be
adopted by her namesake Kleopatra VII of the Ptolemies in relation to her own co-​regents, first
her brothers and finally her son.
At about the same time when Kleopatra was leaving her fatherland to marry Alexandros
Balas, the jugate-​busts scheme was being adopted by king Mithradates IV of Pontos for an
exceptional silver issue, where he is shown next to his consort (and possibly also his sister)
Laodike.30 The busts, conventionally showing the king in the foreground, are both draped
and diademed, turning left in the Ptolemaic fashion. Brutal realism (Mithradates’ head in par-
ticular emphasizes his coarse features and facial hair) was a Pontic trait (initiated by this king’s
predecessors, his father Mithradates III and brother Pharnakes I), here combined with a stately
image, laden with political symbolisms. Impossibly, as was also the case with the coins struck

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for Kleopatra Thea, the imagery suggests dynastic peace and stability even if those rulers’ actual
careers demonstrated anything but.
Farther afield, Eukratides I, who ruled the kingdom of Baktria between c. 171–​155 BCE,
chose a jugate depiction of his parents, Heliokles and Laodike, as a royal couple for the obverse of
an exceptional silver tetradrachm he issued.31 As the ruling king, Eukratides is shown diademed
on the reverse, self-​identified as a basileus and as “great” (megas). Intriguingly, only Laodike is
shown diademed next to her bareheaded husband. It seems that, in this coin too, the jugate-​
busts scheme retains its state symbolism: the couple apparently constituted Eukratides’ claim to
the throne (possibly because Laodike was a Seleukid princess or the widow of a previous king)
and their presence on their son’s coinage most likely carries a clear political symbolism. Later
on, the scheme would also be adopted on the coinage of the Greek kingdoms of India, namely
by Strato (c. 130–​75 BCE) shown next to his mother Agathokleia (who ruled as regent while
he was still a minor),32 and by Hermaeus (c. 75–​55 BCE) shown next to his consort, Kalliope.33
Back in Alexandria, the jugate-​busts type had last appeared in a revival of the Theon Adelphon
octodrachms in gold, by Ptolemy V in the very beginning of the second century BCE.34 The
type then disappears from Ptolemaic coinage, only to re-​emerge in Egyptian seals from the later
second and earlier first century BCE. Official seals and signet rings generally do not survive; we
do however possess some crucial, and massive, finds of clay seal-​impressions from the Hellenistic
and early Roman worlds.35 The so-​called Edfu Hoard of clay seal-​impressions preserves several
interesting Ptolemaic portrait types, including some jugate-​bust depictions (even some triple-​
jugate busts).36 Identification is hindered by the lack of inscriptions, the relatively bad state of
preservation of most surviving sealings, and the fact that images of the late Ptolemies, as well as
those of their consorts, are not otherwise known from coinage or sculpture. As the preponder-
ance of recognizable male and female portraits from the Hoard, however, seems to point to the
period from Philometor to Kleopatra VII, the Hoard is usually dated to the timeframe between
the 180s and the 30s BCE, with some earlier and perhaps later inclusions.
An interesting practice emerging from the study of the Hoard is the tendency to portray
the consort of the king (ruling, recently deceased, or ruling on her own) in the guise of Isis,
and the extent to which these depictions suggest actual deification.37 The jugate-​busts scheme
is also used to portray Sarapis and Isis, in the example set by the use of the type in Philometor’s
coins, as discussed above (p. 362).38 In an additional number of sealings, however, we find joint
depictions of Ptolemaic couples (where the man is either beardless or only slightly bearded,
therefore he cannot be Sarapis; see Figures 30.3 and 30.4).39
These show the ruling couple in all its dynastic glory: the busts are always draped, and some
female ones appear to be veiled; pharaonic insignia are carried by men and women alike (atef
crowns for the kings, horns-​and-​disk crowns for their consorts, alluding to Isis and, secondarily,
Hathor); the men, in particular, also wear Ptolemaic dynastic headdresses, such as elephant scalps
(alluding to Dionysos and Alexander himself), falcon headdresses (alluding to Horus), or the
occasional aegis (a shawl-​like mantle lined with snake-​heads, typical of Zeus; cf. Figure 30.4). As
the rings that created those impressions were worn by state officials—​Alexandria bureaucrats,
most likely, in correspondence with the indigenous priesthood ruling Edfu at the time—​the
depictions offer, quite expectedly, duly authorized, explicitly designed state imageries com-
municating the regime’s political ideology and underlining its stability. Although we are in no
position to identify those men and women with any degree of certainty,40 we can be positive
that we are looking, collectively, at images of Kleopatras I, II, and III next to their male consorts
(Ptolemies V,VII,VIII, IX, and X); some others, on the other hand, and most notably Kleopatra
VII, are more readily recognizable, either on their own,41 or next to their co-​rulers. Although
the later second and earlier first centuries BCE were times of relentless dynastic strife and

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Jugate images

Figure 30.3 Clay seal-​impression from Edfu; Ptolemaic couple, late second /​early first century BCE
Source: Toronto, Royal Ontario Museum inv. no. 906.12.193. Photograph by Royal Ontario Museum

Figure 30.4 Clay seal-​impression from Edfu; Ptolemaic couple, late second /​early first century BCE
Source: Toronto, Royal Ontario Museum inv. no. 906.12.196. Photography by Royal Ontario Museum

catastrophic civil war for Egypt, the stately depictions appearing on the signet rings enlist the
image of the ruling, and also divine, couple in order to promote an official image of stability
and power.
An exceptional representation of this category, though not one coming from Edfu, shows a
deified female bust in Isis/​Hathor costume and carrying an Ammon horn superimposed over
the bust of a boy-​king wearing the double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt.42 The woman
has invariably been called “Kleopatra I” on the basis of her resemblance to Kleopatra’s very rare
coin portraits, to which some further sealings have been compared. The accumulation of divine
attributes is striking, especially for a royal person who does not seem to have been deified during

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her lifetime. It might be possible to accept the image as a joint depiction of Ptolemy Philometor
(“the mother-​loving king”) alongside his mother, who also acted as his regent (which would
mean she is depicted after her death in 176 BCE), though this might be unprovable.

From Mark Antony to the Julio-​Claudians

In a world where kingship lay at the epicenter of politics, the jugate-​busts scheme was easy
to establish. Even when Hellenistic kingdoms succumbed, one after the other, to Rome—​a
polity gradually evolving into an empire governed by a family closely resembling a Hellenistic
dynasty—​the motif ’s potent symbolism was unmistakable. Roman diplomats and generals were
in close contact with the Hellenistic East from the early second century BCE on; their dealings
with Egypt, in particular, uneasy and distrustful as they were, created nonetheless waves of
“Egyptomania” back in Rome now and then, scandalizing the conservative though inspiring
others.
A number of artifacts adopting the jugate-​busts scheme in the Julio-​Claudian period con-
firm this observation. Predominant among them are the so-​called Cameo Gonzaga now in
St Petersburg and the Cameo of the Ptolemies in Vienna.43 Also known as “grand cameos” based
on their exceptional size (15.7 cm and 11.5 cm high, respectively), the two pieces have long
excited the imagination of scholars, collectors, and art enthusiasts at large. Regrettably, they both
lack a reasonably secure archaeological and historical context, and we seem to know more about
their post-​antique afterlife than the actual conditions of their making and use.44
Scholarly tradition persistently associates the two grand cameos with the early Ptolemies,
variously recognizing in them portraits of Ptolemy Philadelphos and Arsinoë or, posthumously,
Alexander and Olympias (and the plaster cast discussed on p. 362 has often been associated with
them). And this has been so, even if there is no reliable evidence to suggest that cameo-​cutting
was practiced prior to the mid-​second century BCE.45 Even stylistically, the two cameos seem
to belong to the early first century CE rather than the early Hellenistic period. Their iconog-
raphy seems obscure to us, however: their heavily idealized features seem imaginary rather than
portrait-​like, so it might be more reasonable to argue that whoever these personages are, they
are not meant to be living at the time the two cameos were created (in which case the identifi-
cation of the Cameo Gonzaga in St Petersburg with a posthumous portrait of Alexander next to
a much more idealized female bust might not be altogether impossible). A third “grand” cameo,
today in Berlin, also carries a similar depiction of a royal or imperial couple.46 The man on this
one has been recognized as Caligula next to a female member of the Julio-​Claudian family;
some scholars have also dated the other two cameos to around Caligula’s time.
Even though, in our present state of knowledge, we are unable to date the three cameos
securely and identify those portrayed in them with any degree of plausibility, we must conclude
that they are early imperial rather than early (or even late) Hellenistic. Although deriving from
Hellenistic prototypes (and the flashy originals from which the Edfu sealings came may have
provided a strong model), the three cameos cannot be placed in the Hellenistic East, where
royal portraits were much more individualized. The three cameos might well represent Julio-​
Claudians, or even Alexander himself next to a heavily idealized Olympias, a representation not
unknown in Augustan art, including gem-​cutting.47
The jugate-​busts scheme was also introduced to late republican and early imperial coinage.
Mark Antony’s cistophori depicting his portrait alongside the bust of his wife Octavia are dem-
onstrably influenced by similar depictions on Ptolemaic coins and seals.48 Octavia is shown here
not as a basilissa, of course, but as a semi-​regal consort, whose presence in the life of Antony and
depiction on his coinage carries a deep political significance (given her familial relationship to

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Jugate images

Octavian). This is made even more explicit with the so-​called “fleet bronzes,” struck across the
eastern Mediterranean, some of which feature the jugate heads of Antony and Octavian facing
Octavia’s bust.49 The jugate heads of the two politicians here suggest alliance and Octavia’s
bust facing them, in recognition as it were, seems to be standing as a symbol of the familial ties
between the two men, as guarantor, once again, of stability, peace, and prosperity.
This practice was continued under the Julio-​Claudians. Female members of the imperial
family are often featured on their coinage, sometimes in jugate depictions with their husbands—​
a practice also noticeable on the engraved gems of the period.50 An interesting feature of these
coins is that, as a rule, male heads appear truncated (following a Hellenistic tradition most not-
able with the Seleukids of Syria) whereas females are represented as draped busts (as with the
Ptolemies).51 The iconographical disparity is striking, and may be attributable to the combination
of two different, though equally strong, visual traditions. A good example is the cistophori issued
by Claudius, where he is shown next to Agrippina the Younger (facing left).52 The two heads are
impressively cut, with deep characterization of their likeness and physiognomy. Agrippina was
also featured on the coinage of her son, Nero, during the first years of his reign, when she was
still able to exert considerable political influence over him.53 Later on, after Agrippina’s death,
Nero included Poppaea Sabina in his coinage following the example of Mark Antony; in one
of his provincial issues, from Ephesos, the pair are shown in the jugate-​busts scheme, Nero as a
truncated head and Poppaea as a draped bust.54
A cornelian intaglio from a private collection in England portrays a Roman emperor, most
likely Nero, next to the conjoined bust of a woman (Figure 30.5).55
Following the precedent set by Roman republican and imperial coinage, the gem shows the
man’s truncated head, with the cut immediately beneath the neck-​line already practiced by the
Antigonids, the Seleukids, and other Hellenistic monarchs, whereas the woman is portrayed
in full bust, veiled. Nero is crowned with a laurel wreath, while his companion seems to be
wearing a stephane. The Ptolemaic overtones in composition and style are unmistakable, even

Figure 30.5 Cornelian intaglio. Imperial couple (Nero and Poppaea?); c. 62–​65 CE
Source: Private collection. Photography by Bob Wilkins

367
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Dimitris Plantzos

though the man is obviously characterized as a Roman ruler. If he is truly meant to be Nero,
then he looks too old to have been paired with Agrippina, and his wife Poppaea Sabina
presents herself as a plausible alterative. The Ephesos coin mentioned above (p. 367) may have
provided the model for this gem, which might well have been cut in the Hellenistic East. An
iconographical debt—​though one of significant political symbolism—​seems thus to have been
repaid.

Conclusions
The jugate-​busts scheme was devised in the Ptolemaic court under Philadelphos, in the early
third century BCE. The representation of the conjoined busts of the ruling royal couple, as
well as their predecessors, was meant to emphasize dynastic unity, stability, and prosperity. The
scheme is most noticeable on coins and seals, though its diffusion in antiquity must have been
wider, including sculpture and toreutics. In it, royal women appear as guarantors of peace in the
realm and the well-​being of their subjects through their double role as consorts of the ruling
king and, more often than not, mothers of the next one. When they are ruling on their own,
they often choose to be portrayed next to their siblings or sons, thus reversing the emphasis on
familial ties. Adopted by the Romans, both of republican and imperial times, the scheme carries
most of its original political symbolisms even though historical circumstances have changed.
Busts of Roman women appear once again conjoined to those of their husbands or sons on
coins or gems as an indicator of social order and political strength.
It is these political connotations that made the jugate-​busts scheme a strong political symbol
and guaranteed its survival during the Hellenistic and Roman periods. And even after the
Ptolemies, the Seleukids, or the Julio-​Claudians had long ceased to exist, the type was revived,
once again on coins and medals, by royals across Europe or even political figures in America
(suffice to mention, here, as an example, the Monroe Doctrine Centennial half dollar struck by
the USA Mint in 1923, bearing jugate depictions of former US Presidents James Monroe and
John Quincy Adams, which however failed to impress critics, if we are to judge by Cornelius
Vermeule’s dismissive view that the piece was “an aesthetic monstrosity,” “a bad pun in art”).56
In most other cases, however, a politically charged pairing, usually a royal marriage, remained
the point of the depiction, as is evident, for example, in the coins and medals issued during the
joint reign of William of Orange and Mary II of England, Scotland, and Ireland between 1689
and 1694.57 Struck in gold, silver, or bronze, the monumental issues emphasize the couple’s
union, as if to drive the point of their “Glorious Revolution” closer to home. At a time when
reigning over England was at least as precarious as ruling over Ptolemaic Egypt or Seleukid
Syria, Queen Mary (who was, in fact, senior to her husband in the line of succession) revives
an old iconographic precedent, laden with political meaning and ideological authority, as a
means of establishing her rule in the face of war abroad and rebellion at home, not to mention
threats from her own family. At once intimate and authoritative, the jugate depiction of the
royal couple seemed to carry the same political substance in the London of the 1680s as in the
Ptolemaic Alexandria of the third century BCE.

Notes
1 See Koenen 1983; 1993; also Hölbl 2001: 90–​123, and Pfeiffer 2016 for an overview.
2 Hölbl 2001: 95, 171, 285–​8; cf. IJsewijn 1961: 119–​21; Pestman 1967: 134–​57. See also Green 1990: 145,
180, 190; and Chapter 9 in this volume.
3 Cf. Frandsen 2009. See Chapter 29 in this volume.

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4 See Heinrichs 2017.

5 See, chiefly, Kyrieleis 1975: 6; Troxell 1983; Mørkholm 1991: 101–​11; Plantzos 1999: 42–​54; Carney
2013: 78–​80. For a recent overview of Ptolemaic portraiture and its significance, see Queyrel 2019.
6 Some of the figures on the Parthenon frieze, for example, like the advancing peplophoroi, seem to be
setting a telling precedent (see e.g. Boardman 1985: fig. 96.15), or many of the figures on burial reliefs
(as on the gravestone of Lykeas and Chairedemos from Salamis; Boardman 1985: fig. 152).
7 See, among many examples, the seated couples in the banquet scene depicted in the wall-​painting from
the Tomb of Nebamun in Egypt (Thebes); Parkinson 2008: 56.
8 Smith 1988: 34.
9 On the intricacies of deification of Ptolemaic royal women, see Carney 2000: 33–​40, with earlier
bibliography.
10 See Troxell 1983; Mørkholm 1991: 103; Carney 2013: 78–​80. A recent re-​examination of the series
revives an old, and rather farfetched theory, according to which Arsinoë’s portrait on the second-​
century issues of the type is modelled on the actual likeness of the actual basilissa at the time, taking this
to suggest an “assimilation,” successively, of Kleopatras I, II, and III to her, something not corroborated
by any existing evidence, historical or other (Lorber 2018).
11 Kyrieleis 1975: 78–​94; Brunelle 1976: 10–​29; Plantzos 1991–​92; for images, see, e.g. Mørkholm
1991: nos 294–​5; Stanwick 2002: no. 215.
12 Images: Mørkholm 1991: no. 307; Stanwick 2002: no. 217.
13 Plantzos 1999: 47–​52.
14 E.g. Mørkholm 1991: nos 297–​8.
15 Ibid.: 104; see also von Reden 2007: 50–​6.
16 Alexandria, Greco-​Roman Museum inv. no. 24345. See Kyrieleis 1975: 6–​7; Plantzos 1996: 122–​3
(with earlier bibliography); La gloire d’Alexandrie 1998: 79 no. 37 [Queyrel].
17 See Plantzos 1996.
18 Mørkholm 1991: 109; pl. 317.
19 See Plantzos 1999: 82–​3.
20 Plantzos 1999: 27, 25 fig. 1.32. Alternatively, the seal may be showing a royal couple, as the old drawing
of it I was able to consult seems quite unclear on the male bust’s features.
21 Plantzos 1999: 82 n. 125.
22 London, British Museum inv. no. GR 1865.7–​12.55. Boardman 1970: 362, pl. 1011; Plantzos 1999: 82–​
3; Walker and Higgs 2001: no. 35; Plantzos 2011: 402, 409 fig. 4.
23 Plantzos 1999: nos 367–​74.
24 E.g. Plantzos 1999: 83 no. 375.
25 La gloire d’Alexandrie 1998: 244 no. 181 [Ballet].
26 Mørkholm 1991: 152, pl. 522.
27 Davis and Kraay 1973: 215–​19 figs. 108–​15. Other female members of the Seleukid dynasty using the
scheme were Laodike IV next to her son Antiochos (see Ager and Hardiman 2016: 145 fig. 1) and
Kleopatra Selene, also next to her son Antiochos XIII (see Ager and Hardiman 2016: 170). For an over-
view, see Meyer 1992/​93.
28 Green 1993: 442–​7 fig. 143; see also Meyer 1992/​93: 114–​25, and Ager and Hardiman 2016: 169–​71
for a recent discussion.
29 Davis and Kraay 1973: figs. 110–​11; 115; Mørkholm 1991: 177, pl. 635.
30 Davis and Kraay 1973: figs. 204, 206; Mørkholm 1991: 175, pl. 624.
31 Davis and Kraay 1973: 238–​9, figs. 146–​7, 149.
32 Davis and Kraay 1973: 247–​8, figs. 168–​9, 172.
33 Davis and Kraay 1973: 249, figs. 176–​7, 179.
34 Mørkholm 1991: 110, pl. 327.
35 See Plantzos 1999: 22–​32 for a survey; also Boussac and Invernizzi 1996 for individual studies.
36 See Lorber and van Oppen de Ruiter 2017 for a recent account; see also Plantzos 1996a; 1999: 27–​8;
and 2011 for study and interpretation. The sealings were affixed onto papyri presumably sent from
Alexandria to Edfu or signed and sealed locally; the documents were destroyed by fire at some point
in antiquity, and the “baked” sealings were thus preserved in order to be found in the early 1900s, by
looters, who sold them to western collectors.
37 See Plantzos 1996a; 2011; contra Lorber and van Oppen de Ruiter 2017 and van Oppen de Ruiter and
Lorber 2017, who seem to be placing too much emphasis on what they understand as “stylistic criteria”
and not enough on historical evidence or probability.

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Dimitris Plantzos

38 See, e.g. Plantzos 2011: figs. 2b and 2c.

39 See, e.g. Plantzos 2011: figs. 2d, 2e, 2f, 8, 9; 1996a: pls. 48.5–​6, 49.8, 49.10–​11, 50.16, 52.21–​2.
40 On the problems of identification and chronology, see Plantzos 1999: 27–​8; 1996a.
41 E.g. Plantzos 1996a: pls. 53.28–​9; Walker and Higgs 2001: no. 176.
42 See Plantzos 1996a: 309, pl. 48.5.
43 See chiefly Plantzos 1996b: 123–​7 with extensive discussion and bibliography.
44 Cf. Brown 1997.
45 See Plantzos 1996b: 127–​30.
46 Platz-​Horster 1997; also cf. Plantzos 1996b: 127–​8.
47 Kyrieleis 1971: 178.
48 Burnett et al. 1992: no. 2202; see also Woytek 2014: 55–​6, fig. 27.
49 E.g. Burnett et al. 1992: no. 1463.
50 See Zwierlein-​Diehl 2007: no. 613 (Augustus and Livia?); no. 624 (Tiberius and Livia?), and so on.
51 See the discussion in Woytek 2014.
52 Burnett et al. 1992: no. 2224; see also Woytek 2014: 56, fig. 29.
53 Sutherland 1984: Nero 6–​7.
54 Burnett et al. 1992: no. 2230.
55 See Plantzos 1993.
56 Vermeule 1971: 165.
57 See Pincus 2011; for an example of William and Mary’s jugate coinage, see British Museum 2019.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Ager, S. and Hardiman, C. 2016. “Female Seleukid Portraits: Where Are They?” In A. Coşkun and
A. McAuley (eds.), Seleukid Royal Women: Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship
in the Seleukid Empire. Stuttgart, 143–​72.
Boardman, J. 1970. Greek Gems and Finger Rings. London.
Boardman, J. 1985. Greek Sculpture: The Classical Period. London.
Boussac, M.-​F. and Invernizzi, A. 1996. Archives et sceaux du monde Hellénistique. Torino, Villa Gualino 13–​16
Gennaio 1993. Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique, Supplément 29. Athens.
British Museum. 2019. Collection Online. https://​bit.ly/​2lzfjo0 (accessed September 3, 2019).
Brown, C.M. 1997. “Isabella d’Este Gonzaga’s Augustus and Livia Cameo and the ‘Alexander and Olympias’
Gems in Vienna and Saint Petersburg.” In M.C. Brown (ed.), Engraved Gems: Survivals and Revivals.
Hanover and London, 85–​101.
Brunelle, E. 1976. Die Bildnisse der Ptolemaërinnen. Frankfurt.
Burnett, A.M., Amandry, A., and Ripolès, P.P. 1992. Roman Provincial Coinage. I: From the Death of Caesar to
the Death of Vitellius (44 BC–​AD 69). London and Paris.
Carney, E.D. 2000. “The Initiation of Cult for Royal Macedonian Women.” Classical Philology 95, 1: 21–​43.
Carney, E.D. 2013. Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life. Oxford.
Davis, N. and Kraay, C.M. 1973. The Hellenistic Kingdoms: Portrait Coins and History. London.
Frandsen, P.J. 2009. An Incestuous and Close-​Kin Marriage in Ancient Egypt and Persia. Chicago.
Green, P. 1993. Alexander to Actium: The Hellenistic Age. London.
Heinrichs, J. 2017. “Coins and Constructions: The Origins of Argead Coinage under Alexander I.” In
S. Müller et al. (eds.), The History of the Argeads: New Perspectives. Wiesbaden, 79–​98.
Hölbl, G. 2001. A History of the Ptolemaic Empire. London and New York.
IJsewijn, J. 1961. De sacerdotibus sacerdotiisque Alexandri Magni et Lagidarum eponymis. Brussels.
Koenen, L.L. 1983. “Die Adaptation ägyptischer Königsideologie am Ptolemäerhof.” In E. Van’t Dack
(ed.), Egypt and the Hellenistic World: Proceedings of the International Colloquium, Leuven, 24–​26 May 1982.
Leuven, 143–​90.
Koenen, L. 1993. “The Ptolemaic King as a Religious Figure.” In A. Bulloch et al. (eds.), Images and
Ideologies: Self-​definition in the Hellenistic World. Berkeley, 25–​38.

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Kyrieleis, H. 1971. “Der Kameo Gonzaga.” Bonner Jahrbücher des Rheinischen Landesmuseum in Bonn
171: 162–​93.
Kyrieleis, H. 1975. Bildnisse der Ptolemäer. Berlin.
La gloire d’Alexandrie. 1998. Exhibition Catalog. Paris.
Lorber, C.C. 2018. “Cryptic Portraits of Ptolemaic Queens on Gold Coins of the Second Century B.C.”
Numismatica e Antichita Classiche (Quaderni Ticinese) 47: 125–​48.
Lorber, C.C. and van Oppen de Ruiter, B.F. 2017.“Clay Seal Impressions from Ptolemaic Edfu.” Numismatica
e Antichita Classiche (Quaderni Ticinese) 46: 73–​95.
Meyer, M. 1992–​3. “Mutter, Ehefrau und Herrscherin: Darstellungen der Königin auf Seleukidischen
Münzen.” Hephaistos 11/​12: 107–​32.
Mørkholm, O. 1991. Early Hellenistic Coinage: From the Accession of Alexander to the Peace of Apamea (336–​
188 BC). Cambridge.
Parkinson, R. 2008. The Painted Tomb-​Chapel of Nebamun. London.
Pestman, P.W. 1967. Chronologie égyptienne d’après les textes démotiques (332 av. J.-​C.–​453 ap. J.-​C. Leiden.
Pfeiffer, S. 2016. “The Ptolemies: Hellenistic Kingship in Egypt.” Oxford Handbooks Online. https://​bit.ly/​
2kpPqXo (accessed September 3, 2019).
Pincus, S. 2011. 1688: The First Modern Revolution. New Haven.
Plantzos, D. 1991–​2. “Ektheosis Arsinoes: On the Cult of Arsinoe Philadelphos.” Archaiognosia 7, 119–​34.
Plantzos, D. 1993. “Nero and Poppaea on a Cornelian Ringstone.” Oxford Journal of Archaeology 12: 355–​60.
Plantzos, D. 1996a. “Female Portrait Types from the Edfu Hoard of Clay Seal Impressions.” In Boussac and
Invernizzi 1996, 307–​13.
Plantzos, D. 1996b.“Hellenistic Cameos: Problems of Classification and Chronology.” Bulletin of the Institute
of Classical Studies 41: 115–​31.
Plantzos, D. 1999. Hellenistic Engraved Gems. Oxford.
Plantzos, D. 2011.“The Iconography of Assimilation: Isis and Royal Imagery on Ptolemaic Seal Impressions.”
In P. Iossif, A.S. Chankowski, and C.C. Lorber (eds.), More than Men, Less than Gods: Studies of Royal Cult
and Imperial Worship. Leuven, 389–​415.
Platz-​Horster, G. 1997. “Der Capita-​Jugata-​Kameo in Berlin.” In M. Broustet and M.Vollenweider (eds.),
La glyptique de mondes classiques. Paris, 55–​70.
Queyrel, F. 2019. “The Portraits of the Ptolemies.” In O. Palagia (ed.), Handbook of Greek Sculpture. Berlin
and Boston, 194–​224.
von Reden, S. 2007. Money in Ptolemaic Egypt: From the Macedonian Conquest to the End of the Third Century
BC. Cambridge and New York.
Smith, R.R.R. 1988. Hellenistic Royal Portraits. Oxford.
Stanwick, P.E. 2002. Portraits of the Ptolemies: Greek Kings as Egyptian Pharaohs. Austin.
Sutherland, C.H.V. 1984. The Roman Imperial Coinage. I: From 31 BC to AD 69. Revised edition. London.
Troxell, H.A. 1983. “Arsinoe's Non Era.” Museum Notes (American Numismatic Society) 28: 35–​70.
Van Oppen de Ruiter, B.F. and Lorber, C.C. 2017. “Royal or Divine? Female Heads in the Edfu Hoard.”
Chronique d’Égypte 92: 349–​94.
Vermeule, C. 1971. Numismatic Art in America. Cambridge, MA.
Walker, S. and Higgs, P. (eds.) 2001. Cleopatra of Egypt: From History to Myth. London.
Woytek, B. 2014. “Heads and Busts on Roman Coins: Some Remarks on the Morphology of Numismatic
Portraiture.” Revue numismatique 171: 45–​71.
Zwierlein-​Diehl, E. 2007. Antike Gemmen und ihr Nachleben. Berlin and New York.

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PART VI

Rome
Late republic through empire
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31
OCTAVIA MINOR AND
PATRONAGE
Katrina Moore

Introduction
Octavia Minor, or Octavia the Younger, the elder sister and only full sibling of the man who
would become the first emperor of Rome, Octavian Augustus (hereafter Octavian), remains
one of the understudied women of the late republican period.1 In some part this is due to her
portrayal as a “good” exemplum in the written sources. Whereas modern historians have a drive
to rescue “bad girls” from the darkness of their undeserved reputations and the androcentric
ancient sources, “good girls” are often considered a bit of a bore. Octavia was never accused of
adultery, or of poisoning her husbands, rivals, or enemies. If we take the classical written sources
at their word, then Octavia’s “goodness” was the quality that most exemplified her life, and the
worst slander against her came from Seneca who accused her of grieving too deeply at the death
of her only son, Marcellus (Sen. Ad Marc. 2.1–​5).
Yet this cloak of “goodness” obscures the fact that Octavia played a large, if unofficial, role
in the politics of the late republican period; to borrow a phrase from Roller, Octavia played a
“public but not civic”2 role throughout the 30s BCE and into the early 20s.3 It is also relevant to
understand that Octavia, and her “goodness,” were on the winning side of the Roman civil war.
Although her reputation in the ancient written sources likely received embellishment due to
her close familial proximity to Octavian, the victor in the struggle for sole power of the Roman
world, it is crucial not to erase Octavia’s agency from the historical record. Octavia assisted her
brother and played the role of “good” Roman matron, but this should not be understood as
blind obedience. Roman women could exercise their agency in a variety of ways, and it appears
Octavia exercised her agency to support her brother, which in turn allowed her unprecedented
access to the public sphere.
Octavia’s acceptable foray into the “public but not civic” life of Rome created a model
that all wives of Roman emperors would aspire to emulate, and Octavia’s patronage helped
set the stage for her brother Octavian’s dynastic intentions. Octavia’s proximity to powerful
men in Rome allowed her the privilege to showcase her understanding of traditional Roman
values and project them, and herself, on and into media and places where female virtues and
women themselves had never been. For example, in the early 30s she became the first mortal,
living Roman woman to have her image appear on Roman coinage.4 In 35 she received an

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extraordinary grant allowing statues in her likeness to appear in public. And in the 20s, she
constructed a portico on the traditionally male area of the Campus Martius.
Octavia’s contact with the Eastern provinces under Rome’s control heavily influenced this
novel and successful use of imagery and patronage. Marcus Antonius (hereafter Antony) was
given the responsibility of governing the East following the Battle of Philippi in 42, and in 40 he
would become Octavia’s second husband. During their eight years of marriage, Octavia came
into close contact with the Hellenistic areas under Roman control. She would even spend time
living in Greece with Antony.
Historically, Rome had a complicated relationship with Hellenistic culture. Though Greek
art, philosophy, and literature were admired by the Romans, they also held a distinct prejudice
against what they described as Eastern decadence and the effeminate effect it could have on
practical and traditional Roman morals.5 Salient to the current discussion, Hellenistic culture
promoted direct familial succession. For example, the Seleukid and Ptolemaic dynasties required
female participation in public and political life. Maintenance of a healthy dynasty required
female counterparts to the male power to produce heirs, provide stability, and help mediate
goodwill.6
Octavia’s contact with the culture of the Eastern provinces, in combination with her
awareness of traditional Roman virtues and values, enabled her to help promote her imagery
and patronage in the “public but not civic” life of Rome, without offending Roman sensibil-
ities, which had, until then, excluded women’s imagery in public and women’s contributions
to the physical space of Rome. Upon examination, it is clear that Octavia played a role in the
transitional period that ended the Roman republic and led to the Roman empire, and that she
bridged and connected the Roman world to the Hellenistic. Octavia borrowed the ideology
of acceptable female power in public from Hellenistic culture and combined it with Roman
ideals of motherhood and devotion to family, traditionally private virtues. Octavia’s success as a
patroness opened the public and physical space of Rome to contributions by women, especially
those of the imperial court.7

Biographical sketch
Understanding how Octavia came to appreciate traditional Roman virtues, how she was
introduced to the “public not civic” role Roman women inhabited, and how she became
acquainted with the Hellenistic areas under Roman control necessitates a biographical sketch.8
Octavia was born around 66 and came of age while the “First Triumvirate” of Gaius Julius
Caesar (hereafter Julius Caesar), Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (hereafter Pompey), and Marcus
Licinius Crassus was the dominant power in Rome.9 Her first marriage was to Gaius Marcellus,
consul in 50. Gaius Marcellus was, by the time of their marriage in the late 50s, a political enemy
of Octavia’s great-​uncle Julius Caesar and an ally of Pompey (App. B. Civ. 2.26–​30; Plut. Pomp.
58–​9). During the years of her great-​uncle’s rise to power in the early 40s, Octavia navigated
a fine line between loyalty to her husband and loyalty to her family. Later, Gaius Marcellus
would take a more moderate stance in relation to Julius Caesar;10 Syme wryly remarks, “the
consul who had placed a sword in the hand of Pompeius [Pompey], mindful at last of his
marriage-​connection with [Julius] Caesar, abated his ardor.”11 It is hard to believe that Octavia,
the “marriage-​connection,” had nothing to do with this reconciliation. Her husband and her
family were now united in purpose and Octavia nurtured the relationship between her husband
and brother.12 By the late 40s, she had all three of her children with Gaius Marcellus: their son
Marcellus and their two daughters, Marcella Major and Minor.13

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During this time Octavia would be witness to a number of female exempla, “good” and “bad”
alike. A “good” Roman woman performed her traditional role of mother and wife without
infringing on male areas of power, such as politics, but a “bad” Roman woman scorned her
traditional roles and attempted to use her influence outside the bounds of acceptable female
behavior. For instance, the actions of the “bad” Fulvia, both her acceptable and her scandalous
behavior, would provide a useful example for Octavia.14 Fulvia was married (sequentially)
to allies of Octavia’s great-​uncle, allowing Octavia to observe Fulvia’s testing of the bound-
aries of female power because of their close social and physical proximity. Fulvia was not the
only “good”/​“bad” woman from whom Octavia could have learned: there was the mistress
of her great-​uncle Julius Caesar, Servilla;15 the wife of her first husband’s close friend Cicero,
Terentia;16 her own mother Atia; Aurelia the mother of Julius Caesar;17 and even elite women
like “Turia”18 provided examples of how women could use their “public but not civic” power.
Octavia would have encountered these women at social gatherings or during casual interactions
in the streets of Rome. Each of these women was, in her own way, testing the limits of proper
and acceptable female behavior and Octavia was in a position to observe and learn from their
agency and ability to navigate the traditional norms, from Servilla’s ability to lead her family, to
Terentia’s skillful management of her household while her husband was in exile, and her own
mother Atia’s social acumen.
In 40, Octavia was married to Antony, following a meeting at Brundisium between the
bickering rivals for power, Antony and Octavian. Like Antony’s spouse Fulvia, Octavia’s husband
Gaius Marcellus had conveniently died, and her brother Octavian used her remarriage to seal
the newfound agreement for renewed cooperation between him and Antony (App. B. Civ. 5.55,
59, 62; Cass. Dio 48.28.3). Octavia and Antony were married in Rome (App. B. Civ. 5.66; Cass.
Dio 48.31.3; Plut. Ant. 31.3;Vell. Pat. 2.78.1).
This marriage symbolized peace to the Romans. Bloody civil war had been raging for many
years prior; this marriage between the two rival families for power meant that Rome could
breathe a sigh of relief that constitutional, republican government would return and restore the
Roman world to normality. The hope for lasting peace was so prevalent that even poets wrote
about the fruits of reconciliation. For example, Vergil’s Fourth Eclogue, written for Pollio, one
of the negotiators at Brundisium (App. B. Civ 5.64; Plut. Ant. 30.4;Vell. Pat. 2.76.3), celebrated
a hoped-​for boy child from the marriage of Antony and Octavia, a boy who would usher in
a new age of peace, but that child was a girl, Antonia Major.19 Despite the hopes of Vergil and
Romans generally, no child would likely have been able to mend the differences between
Antony and Octavian.
Through this marriage to Antony, Octavian assigned Octavia an important diplomatic role. It
was her responsibility to help bridge the gap between her brother and husband, like the famous
Sabine women of Rome’s myth-​history who negotiated between their families and husbands.20
The role of diplomatic negotiator was not novel to Octavia.While the Sabine women provided
the traditional exemplum for Octavia, she also would have observed women such as Julius
Caesar’s daughter, Julia, inhabiting this role. In the early 50s, to help ease the political discord
between Julius Caesar and his rival Pompey, Julius Caesar gave his daughter Julia in marriage to
Pompey (App. B. Civ. 2.14; Cass. Dio 38.9.1; Plut. Caes. 14.4–​5, Pomp. 47.6; Suet. Iul. 21).Years
later, following her death, Romans worried that without her influence to mediate between her
husband and her father, the two men would fall to fighting (App. B. Civ. 2.19; Cass. Dio 39.64.1;
Plut. Caes. 23.4, Pomp. 53.5–​6; Livy Per. 106; Suet. Iul. 26). Julius Caesar even attempted to marry
Octavia to Pompey, following Julia’s death, to recreate a connection between the two men, but
Pompey chose not to marry Octavia (Suet. Iul. 27.1). Thus, in her lifetime, Octavia was a close

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observer to the expectation that a married woman would act as a diplomat between the family
of her birth and that of her husband.
In addition to this responsibility, Octavia was now the wife of the man who was in charge
of the Eastern provinces (App. B.Civ. 5.65; Cass. Dio 48.28.3–​29; Plut. Ant. 30.4). When her
husband was out of Rome, which was to be often considering his command outside of the
city, Octavia would be the point of contact for any of his clientela or emissaries from the East,
a responsibility which exposed her to Hellenistic culture.21 She would have further association
with the East when she and Antony spent time in Greece, living in Athens during 39–​38. Here
the couple seemed contented and relaxed, with Antony putting aside his insignia of command
and walking around the city like an average citizen (Plut. Ant. 33.3–​4). He even attended
lectures and took meals in the Greek fashion. Antony seemed much infatuated with Octavia,
attending festivals with her. She seemed to have a positive effect on Antony, as he tended to his
own business as well as pleasure: he met with embassies which he had previously postponed and
completed the preparations for his upcoming campaign (App. B. Civ. 5.76).
Though their blended family happily spent two years in Athens,22 tensions again began to
rise between Octavia’s brother and husband. In 37, Octavia and Antony sailed for Italy, though
at request of the now pregnant Octavia,23 she departed before her husband and met with her
brother at Tarentum to persuade him to negotiate with Antony. She presented her husband’s
grievances and heard those of her brother. She explained her husband’s position and convinced
Octavian to speak with Antony. She did not hesitate to remind Octavian of her position as the
most miserable woman, trapped between being the wife of one imperator and the sister of
another (App. B. Civ. 5.93–​4; Cass. Dio 48.54.3; Plut. Ant. 35.1–​4). Again, the written sources
should be carefully handled here; their ability to know her exact words is doubtful, but the
sentiments her words express are accurate.24
The men came to an agreement for continued cooperation. At Tarentum, Octavia’s agency
and her negotiation skills are noted by each of the ancient sources that chronicle this encounter.
Octavia was able to arrange for an extra exchange of troops, in addition to the forces the two
men pledged to provide one another (App. B. Civ. 5.95, 48.54.2 and 6; Plut. Ant. 35.4). Her
years of experience on the “small stage” negotiating the relationship between her first husband
Gaius Marcellus and her great-​uncle Julius Caesar aptly prepared her for the “big stage” negoti-
ations between her second husband Antony and her brother Octavian. Octavia’s success was not
reliant on her “goodness,” but rather on her experience and acumen.
Following the Treaty at Tarentum, Octavia returned to Rome with all their children and
Antony went to the East to begin his Parthian campaign (App. B. Civ. 5.95; Cass. Dio 48.54.5;
Plut. Ant. 35.5).25 Neither Antony nor Octavia could have known this would be the last time
they would see each other. The relationship between Antony and Octavian continued to
deteriorate despite Octavia’s efforts, as the bellicose nature of their relationship was continually
assailed by their pursuit of sole control of Rome.26 Though divided by distance and increas-
ingly by politics (and maybe Kleopatra), Octavia did not leave Antony’s home in Rome until
32 when he officially divorced her (Cass. Dio 50.3.2; Livy Per. 132). She took all her children
by Marcellus and Antony with her, as well as one of his sons by Fulvia, Iullus. His other son by
Fulvia, Antyllus, remained with his father (Plut. Ant. 57.2–​3).
Once married to Antony, Octavia became acquainted with the Eastern provinces. Antony’s
alliance (and dalliance) with Kleopatra placed Octavia indirectly in contact with a Hellenistic
queen.27 From across the Mediterranean, Octavia observed how the Egyptian queen used her
motherhood to promote her dynasty. For example, Kleopatra chose to be represented with
the iconography of Isis and included Caesarion, her son by Julius Caesar, on the Temple of
Hathor at Dendera;28 she minted coins showing her and the infant Caesarion.29 Kleopatra’s

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promotion of her children informed the Egyptian people of her fecundity and therefore the
success of her dynasty.30 Naturally, Kleopatra’s and Antony’s deaths in 31, following the Battle
of Actium, ended these dynastic intentions as Egypt became a province of Octavian’s Rome.
Octavia would go on to care for her own children by Gaius Marcellus and Antony, as well as
Iullus, and Antony’s children with Kleopatra, the twins Alexander Helios and Kleopatra Selene,
and Ptolemy Philadelphos (Plut. Ant. 87).31

Patronage
This biographical sketch illuminates the development of Octavia’s iconography and patronage.
Only a few written traces of her patronage remain, but extant material culture preserves aspects
of Octavia’s iconography and patronage. After her marriage to Antony, coins were minted with
her likeness, the first such coins in Roman history to feature a mortal, living woman. In 35,
Octavia and Octavian’s wife Livia were given the novel grant of sacrosanctitas which allowed
them to have public statues in their image. In the mid-​20s, Octavia constructed a portico
which celebrated her role as mother, including a library dedicated to her son. Through these
different forms, Octavia’s “public but not civic” role was promoted. Octavia’s “good” reputation
protected her from censure, as our ancient sources find no fault in Octavia’s actions, though she
repeatedly broke new ground in terms of women’s participation in public iconography and the
public space of Rome.

Books
The most traditional products of Octavia’s patronage are those books which were dedicated to
her. Athenodoros, the Stoic philosopher and once teacher of Octavian, addressed a lost book
to her (Plut. Publ. 17.5). The architect Vitruvius wrote that it was Octavia who recommended
him to Octavian’s service (Vitr. De arch. 1. praef 2–​3). One can only speculate how much more
prolific a patroness of writers Octavia might seem to be had more than a fraction of Rome’s
written works survived to modern times.
It is important to remember that Octavia was married at an early age and from that time
on, she would have been running her own household. She became the wife of a consul when
she was only 16. Through the political and social life of both her husbands, Octavia would have
participated in the patron–​client system of the Roman aristocracy.32 It is not surprising that she
had her own clients who wished to gain her favor as a patron, and it is equally unsurprising that
she chose to bestow her patronage on clients, like the writers mentioned. Artisans of all types
would find a worthy patroness in the grandniece of Julius Caesar, wife of a consul. After her
marriage to Antony, it is likely partisans continued to seek out her patronage, as she was the wife
of the man in control of the Eastern provinces and the sister of the man in control of the West.

Coins
Coins minted in the Eastern provinces were the first material culture to bear Octavia’s image.
These coins originated from the mints of Greek cities over which Antony had authority
following their marriage in 40.33 Wood notes that, “A public celebration of the ruler and his
wife as a royal couple, and the dynastic intentions that such a presentation implied, were far
more acceptable here [in the East] than in Italy.”34 The coins mostly fall into two categories of
series. The first series was minted to celebrate Antony’s accord with Octavian at Brundisium in
40,35 with additional similar series produced in the years following.36 These series either bear

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a portrait of Antony on the obverse and a portrait of Octavia on the reverse, or Antony and
Octavia in jugate portraits on the obverse. The most salient to our discussion of Hellenistic cul-
tural appropriation are the series of cistophoroi: they bear the couple’s portraits along with the cista
mystica (cult objects associated with Dionysus).37 Antony was associated with and even honored
as Dionysos in Athens, alongside Octavia as Athena (Plut. Ant. 57.1).38 Octavia’s representation
as his female counterpart marks her as important and associated with divinity.39
A second series of coins was minted to publicize Antony’s accord with Octavian at Tarentum
in 37. In these coin series, Octavia’s portrait is on the obverse of each, either jugate with Antony,40
facing Antony,41 or most interestingly, facing jugate portraits of Antony and Octavian.42 This last
version demonstrates how important Octavia was to the relationship between her husband
and her brother. The agency of Octavia in playing the role of mediator is clearly shown by her
portrait’s placement on the coin: alone, facing the two men. Octavia’s role at Tarentum cannot
be described as political, but her actions certainly set in motion political events. We cannot say
that Octavia played a direct role in Roman politics, as Octavian and Antony did, but she cer-
tainly helped create the environment in which their political machinations took place. Her
image on the coins of her husband displayed her prominent “public but not civic” role.
All of these coins circulated in the Eastern provinces, which Antony controlled. The inclu-
sion of Octavia’s portrait meant that the people of these provinces were aware of her likeness
and associated her with the Roman power structure; the Hellenistic monarchical iconography
helped enforce Antony’s control of the area and Octavia’s role as his female counterpart.
It is difficult to ascertain how involved Octavia was in the production of these coins. The
coins would have been minted by partisans of Antony’s looking to gain or repay favor and thus
their production would have been known to her. But was Octavia consulted about the specific
look of her portrait, or the arrangement of the figures on the coins? It is impossible to know.Yet,
the agency Octavia exhibited throughout the negotiations at Tarentum suggest that she was far
from a passive observer, generally.43 The circulation of her likeness as the female counterpart of
Antony benefited her, even if she was not involved in the process of minting the coins.

Portraits
In 35, Octavia and Livia were given the extraordinary grant of sacrosanctitas. Along with freeing
the women of the need for a tutor to administer their affairs, and the right of protection for their
persons on the same level as tribunes, sacrosanctitas granted the two women the right to public
statues (Cass. Dio 49.38.1). Until this time, mortal, living women had no public statues made in
their likeness in Rome; only legendary myth-​historical women such as Cloelia and goddesses
were immortalized by statues, with one notable exception, Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi.44
Though this grant was given to both women, far fewer of Octavia’s portraits have survived and
no identifying inscriptions remain.45 This should not be understood as an indication of Octavia’s
importance in her lifetime, but rather as a sign of Livia’s subsequent dominance.46 Livia lived far
more years than her sister-​in-​law and achieved a high level of public exposure, as her husband
was the sole ruler of Rome and her son Tiberius succeeded him.
The wealth of Livia’s preserved portraits should not imply that Octavia was less important
during her own lifetime. Octavia would have been well known from the early 40s until her
death in 11, commemorated by a public funeral and the first public “lying in state” of a female
Roman (Cass. Dio 54.35.4–​5). The senate even voted posthumous honors for Octavia (Suet.
Aug. 61.2). Livia lived until 29 CE, long enough to see her son gain sole power in Rome, unlike
Octavia. Livia’s importance need not diminish Octavia’s; it is vital to assess the women without
the bias of our vantage point in modernity.47

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There are three portrait busts which have been plausibly identified as Octavia: the Velletri
bust, Smyrna bust, and Getty bust.48 With the sides of her hair pulled into a low bun near
the nape of her neck and the middle front styled into a modest pompadour, known as the
nodus hairstyle, her serene facial expression, and family resemblance to her brother Octavian,
Octavia was included in statuary groups which honored the imperial family.49 She appears on
the Ara Pacis Augustae, likely alongside her daughters Marcella Major, and Marcella Minor, and
Octavian’s daughter Julia.50 There are also a handful of precious cameo portraits which are plaus-
ibly identified as Octavia.51 The variety of media and locations of these portraits, statue groups,
and cameos suggest widespread recognition of Octavia. This comes as no surprise considering
her visibility in events and the dissemination of her image in the Eastern Roman territories
through Antony’s coinage.
Most, if not all, of these portraits in their various media would have been commissioned not
by Octavia herself, but for someone looking to gain favor with her.52 Of course, the argument
could be made that a partisan looking to please Antony or Octavian through Octavia could
have commissioned the portraits. As with her coins, these two possibilities need not be mutu-
ally exclusive since Octavia’s aims overlapped with those of her husband and brother. Even if
one removes all agency from Octavia, the creation of the portrait busts would benefit her. Her
likeness in public granted Octavia a level of recognition and respect; the only other images of
women displayed in public were goddesses and exceptional women: Octavia was in elite com-
pany. The continued use of her imagery following her death points to the lingering power of
her iconography; Octavia was still held in high enough regard for clients and partisans to cap-
italize on her portrait.

Portico
Unlike with the coins and portraits, the agency of Octavia is clear and evident in her patronage
of the Porticus Octaviae, or the Portico of Octavia. The Portico of Octavia was a renovation
of the Portico of Metellus, located on the Campus Martius where it was a feature along the
triumphal procession route through the city. Metellus originally erected his portico in 146,
following a successful and victorious Macedonian campaign (Vell. Pat. 1.11.3).53 The Roman
porticus was a unique architectural form: four connected porticos enclosed an area which could
be customized to fit the needs of the patron, and which often contained a temple. The porticus
gained popularity in the second century as a new way to deposit and display booty captured
during successful military campaigns.54
There has previously been much debate on who exactly was the patron of the Portico of
Octavia. Frustratingly, there is a similarly named Porticus Octavia, which can also be translated as
the “Portico of Octavia.” (Hereafter the Latin Porticus Octavia will continue to be used to dis-
tinguish between the two different porticoes and attempt to avoid confusion with the Porticus
Octaviae, Octavia’s portico.) This naming similarity in combination with a brief mention by the
biographer Suetonius led scholars to believe that Octavian erected Octavia’s portico and merely
named it after her (Suet. Aug. 29.4). But, Octavian himself records in his Res Gestae that he
restored the Porticus Octavia in 33 (RG 4.19).The Porticus Octavia was originally built in 168 by a
Gnaius Octavius. Festus (188L) provides the crucial supporting information that there were two
porticos with the name Octavia.Thus, we can be more than reasonably assured that Octavia built
her own portico to replace Metellus’ and Octavian restored the portico built by Gn. Octavius.55
Because of this, I believe that Octavia, not Octavian, was the patron of the Portico of Octavia.
The Campus Martius was already an area of focus for Octavian’s early building program
prior to Octavia’s contribution. In 33, even before he had sole control of Rome, Octavian

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restored the Porticus Octavia. He began construction of his mausoleum at this time and resumed
construction on a theater begun by Julius Caesar. This theater, which would soon be next to
the Portico of Octavia, would eventually be dedicated as the Theater of Marcellus to honor
his nephew, Octavia’s son, following his death. But Octavian was not the only man contrib-
uting to this building program; Agrippa, aedile in 33, began construction on the Saepta Julia
and his Pantheon, while Sosianus restored the Temple of Apollo Medicus which stood next to
the Portico of Octavia. Octavia was the only female patron who built in the traditionally mas-
culine area of the Campus Martius.56 By choosing this area to build her portico, Octavia was
embedding her structure among other buildings built by those who were connected to and
supported her brother Octavian and her portico’s close proximity to buildings of Octavian him-
self emphasized her connection to their gens, or ancestral family.
Octavia began her renovation in the mid-​20s by razing and rebuilding the Portico of
Metellus. 57 The two temples inside the original portico, to Juno Regina and Jupiter Stator, were
refurbished (Plin. NH 36.42) and even Ovid could not fail to admire the beautiful marblework
put in place by Octavia’s patronage (Ov. Ars am. 1.69–​70). In addition, Octavia added a library
that was later dedicated to her son Marcellus (Cass. Dio 49.43.8; Plut. Marc. 30.6; Suet. Gram
21), a curia (Plin. NH 36.28),58 and a schola (Plin. NH 35.114, 36.22). The library included both
a Greek and Latin section (Festus 188) and was large enough for a librarian, G. Melissus, to be
assigned to keep the scrolls in order (Suet. Gram. 21). Though Octavia died in 11, the library
continued to be used for at least another generation, as there are four employees of the library
buried in the household tomb of Marcella Minor.59 This small detail helps to support the con-
clusion that Octavia was indeed the patroness of the portico; the burial of the library employees
in a household tomb attests to her and her family’s personal interest in the portico.60 The dedi-
cation of this library to Marcellus following his death “gave public face to a profoundly intimate
loss”61 and disproves Seneca’s claim that Octavia shut herself away following her son’s death
(Sen. Ad Marc. 2.5.)
Many works of art were housed in the various buildings of Octavia’s portico.62 Some of the
artwork remained as a holdover from the Portico of Metellus.63 When she began her renovations
and added new buildings, one imagines that Octavia removed, rearranged, or added new art to
the buildings of the portico. Her choice to prominently display a statue of Cornelia, mother of
the Gracchi, was an astute decision. The statue of Cornelia was not originally intended to por-
tray the mother of the Gracchi. The statue later identified as Cornelia was probably originally
a goddess, brought over by Metellus following his conquest in Greece.64 Although it has been
argued that it was Octavian who repurposed the statue to help normalize his grant, I would
posit that it was more likely Octavia who realized the importance of a precedent due to her
understanding of both Roman tradition and Hellenistic culture. In Greece, Octavia would have
become familiar with honorific statues of elite women, and she was well acquainted with how
Roman propriety could easily be offended by non-​traditional “public but not civic” actions by
women.65 The famous Cornelia shared many similarities with Octavia: they were both famous
mothers, known for their fecundity, and they were both participants in the “public not civic”
life of Rome.66 Cornelia, like Octavia, was a mortal woman; having a historical precedent for
the unprecedented grant of statues given to Octavia in 35 would help ease the minds of the
Roman public.
The statue of Cornelia, along with featured statues of Venus,67 the mythological mother of
the Julii line, and her son Cupid,68 were a public statement about Octavia’s motherhood. But
further, these choices were the seeds of a dynasty, planted in a public space. Before his death,
Octavia’s son Marcellus was widely seen as the heir apparent to Octavian. In 25, Marcellus
was married to Octavian’s only child, Julia (Cass. Dio 53.27.5; Suet. Aug. 63). In 24 he was

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elected aedile and given the permission to stand for consul ten years early (Cass. Dio 53.28.3).
Marcellus’ early death in 23 would end Octavia’s direct dynastic possibilities. The marriages of
her daughters, however, would indirectly continue her dynasty: the emperors Caligula, Claudius,
and Nero were Octavia’s descendants.
Octavia’s portico would be seen by elite and non-​elite alike,69 and her choice of art conveyed
a strong dynastic theme of motherhood which could be read by any who entered the public
building. Octavia created a space for the Roman public to enjoy an extensive curated art
collection which subtly signaled her virtue and her brother’s dynasty.

Conclusion
The Hellenistic Eastern regions under Roman rule had a long history of public female
patronage. For example, the Seleukid basilissa Laodike III, who lived in the late third century,
acted as patroness of multiple cities and was reciprocally honored by them, as attested in sur-
viving inscriptions. As basilissa, she was the consort to King Antiochos III.70 In the uncertainty
of the Hellenistic period, Laodike’s patronage marked her as playing an important role in pro-
viding stability by reinforcing her role as a mother and thus, in perpetuating a dynasty.71 After
Octavia became Antony’s wife, she would have come into contact with this representational
ideology during her extended exposure to the Eastern provinces over which Antony governed.
The use of Octavia’s imagery on Eastern coins cast her in a role similar to Laodike, as the female
counterpart to the ruling power. In her portico, Octavia was able to use her patronage to high-
light her motherhood and her role in continuing her brother’s line through his nephew, her
son, and the peace which came with a stable dynasty. As Ramsey succinctly writes of Laodike:

patronage and women’s public roles correlated in such a way to empower both parties,
for her as contributor to Seleukid dynastic strength, for them as guarantors of civic
stability and longevity. Kinship and familial ideology underpinned civic identity and
power, and women manifested this in their public lives.
(Ramsey 2013: 524)

Using her experience of Roman virtues and Hellenistic culture, Octavia was able to present
herself as a virtuous Roman matron while innovating in terms of dynastic intentions, public
display, and patronage. In doing so, Octavia created a socially acceptable opening for women to
contribute to the physical space of Rome. Her astute ingenuity created a template for Livia and
all the imperial women who would follow her.

Notes
1 Though he was given the name Augustus in 27, this paper will refer to Octavia’s brother as Octavian
throughout.
2 Roller 2018: 220.
3 All dates are BCE unless otherwise noted.
4 It is possible a series of coins minted in Lugdunum with the goddess Victory were based on Fulvia’s
image.Yet, even if this is true, Fulvia is still depicted in the guise of a goddess, whereas Octavia is pictured
as herself, a mortal woman. See further Wood 2000: 41–​3.
5 Gruen 1984: 250–​72.
6 Ramsey 2013: 510–​12, 516–​18.
7 As Bauman 1992: 98 notes, “She [Octavia] was a not unworthy successor to Fulvia as a forerunner
of (and later as a participant in) the new style of feminine politics that would later emerge in the
Principate.”

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8 Moore 2017 examines Octavia’s life in greater detail.

9 See Moore 2017: 8–​11 for Octavia’s unrecorded birth year.
10 Cicero calls Gaius Marcellus “timid” (Cic. Att. 207/​10.15).
11 Syme 1939: 62.
12 Cic. Att. 390/​15.12 notes Octavian’s attachment to Gaius Marcellus.
13 Marcus Claudius Marcellus: PIR II (2), 213–​15, no. 925. Claudia Marcella Major: PIR II (2): 264–​5,
no. 1102. Claudia Marcella Minor: PIR II (2): 265–​6, no. 1103.
14 On Fulvia, see Babcock 1965; Welch 1995; Brennan 2012; Moore 2017: 43–​85.
15 Cic. Att. 389.1–​3/​15.11 records a family meeting, led by Servilla, which Cicero attended.
16 See Treggiari 2007.
17 Tac. Dial. 28 lists both Atia and Aurelia as model mothers.
18 See Osgood 2014.
19 See Osgood 2006: 193–​201 who terms (193, n. 127) the bibliography on the fourth Eclogue “immense.”
This interpretation of the messianic child as the hoped-​for offspring of Antony and Octavia is now
probably the most common view (Courtney 2010: 33).
20 Cic. Rep. 2.7; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.30–​47; Livy 1.9–​13; Ov. Fast. 3.67–​258 and Ars. Am. 1.101–​134;
Varro Ling. 6.20, are all ancient sources contemporary to Octavia which discussed the Sabine women,
while Plut. Rom. 14–​20 came about a century after her.
21 This was not an unusual arrangement for Roman matrons. See Treggiari 2007: 54–​70 on Terentia’s
similar situation. Octavia had similar responsibilities when her first husband Gaius Marcellus was fre-
quently out of the city.
22 Their daughter Antonia Major was with them, but they also probably had Octavia’s children by Gaius
Marcellus and Antony’s children by Fulvia, Antyllus and Iullus. Plut. Ant 35.5 says that Antyllus and
Iullus were sent back with Octavia to Rome, implying they were with her in Athens.
23 The couple had Julia Antonia Major with them (PIR I (2): 171–​2, no. 884) while they lived in
Athens. Octavia appears to have been pregnant with Julia Antonia Minor (PIR I (2): 172–​3, no. 885) at
Tarentum.
24 Bauman 1992: 91–​2; Green 1990: 673; Osgood 2006: 242–​3.
25 Cassius Dio (48.54.5) implies that Antony’s concern for his pregnant wife was merely a pretense to
return to Kleopatra. Antony had not seen the Egyptian queen since 41 and had not been in any rush
to see her, having since spent apparently contented years with Octavia. Cassius Dio simply foreshadows
Kleopatra’s later involvement in Antony’s story. Since Octavia was pregnant with Antonia Minor, it was
reasonable for her not to accompany her husband, especially on his imminent campaign.
26 Octavia attempted to bring supplies from Rome and meet with Antony in 35, but when she reached
Greece, he ordered her to turn back, though he accepted the supplies she provided (Cass. Dio 49.33.4;
Plut. Ant. 53.1–​2).
27 Moore 2017: 120–​8 postulates that Kleopatra and Octavia could have met in person during the
queen’s visit to Rome in 46, rejecting the androcentric portrayal of the two women’s relationship in
the ancient sources.
28 Jones 2012: 166–​8.
29 Jones 2012: 169–​70.
30 Jones 2012 convincingly argues that Octavian suppresses mention of Kleopatra’s motherhood, casting
her as the dominant, and a masculine (rather than feminine), influence on Antony. Motherhood was a
valued role in Rome; to vilify Kleopatra to Romans, Octavian needed to disassociate her from her role
as mother.
31 Antyllus was killed in Egypt following the death of his father (Plut. Ant. 81.1).
32 See Deniaux 2006 for an overview of the patron–​client system during the Roman Republic. See Kunst
2010 and 2013 for an examination of the relationship between matronage/​patronage.
33 These coins do not bear Octavia’s name. Her identity can be inferred from her appearance and by the
titles given to Antony on each coin. See Wood 2000: 41–​51.
34 Wood 2012: 41.
35 An aureus minted 38/​37 with Octavia on the reverse: RRC I: 531 no. 527; RRC II: pl. 63; Sydenham
CRR, 193 no. 1196. See Wood 2000: 45 n. 66.
36 A series of aurei minted in 36/​35 with Octavia on the reverse: RRC I: 534 no. 533, 3a and 3b; RRC
II: pl. 63; Sydenham CRR: 193 nos. 1200–​1. See Wood 2000: 45 n. 66.
37 Cistophoroi minted in 35 with Octavia’s bust on the reverse above the cista mystica flanked by
snakes: Sydenham CRR: 193 no. 1197. See Wood 2000: 44 n. 64. Cistophoroi minted in 35 with

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Octavia and Antony in jugate on obverse and Dionysian imagery on reverse: Sydenham CRR: 193
no. 1198. See Wood 2000: 44, n. 65.
38 Raubitschek 1946.
39 These coins include no cult objects associated with Athena, the goddess as whom Octavia was honored
in Athens (Plut. Ant. 57.1). Regardless, these coins call to mind a connection between Octavia and
divinity as well as Octavia and the customs of the eastern provinces.
40 Asses with Antony and Octavia in jugate on the obverse: Sydenham CRR: 198 nos. 1258 and 1264,
199 no. 1268. See Wood 2000: 44 n. 65.
41 Sesterii with Antony and Octavia facing each other on the obverse: Sydenham CRR: 197 no. 1255, 198
nos. 1261 and 1265. Dupondii with Antony and Octavia facing each other on the obverse: Sydenham
CRR: 197 nos. 1257, 198 nos. 1263 and 1267. See Wood 2000: 49 n. 77.
42 Tresses with Antony and Octavian in jugate facing Octavia: Sydenham CRR: 197 no. 1256, 198 nos.
1262 and 1266. See Wood 2000: 44 n. 65.
43 Kleiner 1996: 36 suggests that Octavia could have encouraged Antony to put her portrait on his coins.
It does appear that Octavia had an influence on Antony’s behavior both in Athens and at Tarentum, so
her involvement is certainly plausible.
44 Hemelrijk 2005: 310–​11.
45 It is notoriously difficult to differentiate decisively between portraits of Octavia, Livia, and Julia without
accompanying inscriptions: they shared hairstyles, facial features, and often all three bore a striking
resemblance to Octavian’s portraits.
46 Flory 1993: 293–​4 convincingly argues that the grant of sacrosanctitas in 35 was focused more on
Octavia than Livia.
47 Bartman 1999: 214 suggests that “Octavia’s numismatic history has also generated a false impression
of her importance as a subject in Roman portraiture.” This statement is reductive. Wood 2000: 27–​8
writes that the lack of surviving portraits of Octavia suggests that “such portraits were never plentiful.”
I hesitate to correlate this to Octavia’s importance.
48 The Velletri bust: Museo Nazionale Romano delle Terme, inv. 121221. See Kleiner 1992: 39, fig. 17;
Winkes 1995, 68–​9, fig. 15, and 210 no. 226; Wood 2000: 52–​4. The Smyrna bust: Athens, National
Archaeological Museum no. 547. Winkes 1995: 68, 208–​9 no. 221; Wood 2000: 52–​3. The Getty
bust: The J. Paul Getty Museum, inv. No. 72.AA.106. See Erhart 1980.
49 Rose 1997: 120–​1, pls. 125 and 126 discusses Octavia in a group of Julio-​Claudian portraits dedicated
by an association of doctors in Velia; Rose 1997: 128–​9, pl. 166 discusses a portrait of Octavia with
Livia outside two temples at Glanum.
50 Though none of the figures are identified with inscriptions, scholars have long postulated their iden-
tities. Rose 1997: 102–​3, pl. 108.5.
51 Sardonyx cameo portrait: Cameo with portrait of Octavia, Paris, Bibliothéque Nationale. See Babelon
1951; Kleiner 1992: 78. Winkes 1995: 144, no. 69 identifies this cameo as Livia, contra Babelon and
Kleiner. Cameo portraits of glass paste, sardonyx, and yellow chalcedony: Winkes 1995: 67–​71, 209 no. 222,
210 nos. 224 and 225.
52 Rose 1997: 3–​10.
53 Boyd 1953: 152; Richardson 1976: 60.
54 Macaulay-​Lewis 2009: 3.
55 See Boyd 1953; Richardson 1976; Woodhull 2003: 23–​5.
56 Woodhull 2003: 20.
57 Richardson 1976: 61–​2; Woodhull 2003: 18–​19.
58 The curia was used at least once as a meeting place for the senate in 7 (Cass. Dio 55.8.1).
59 CIL 6: 4431–​3, 4435, 4461; Boyd 1953: 157; Richardson 1976: 62; Woodhull 2003: 21–​2.
60 Boyd 1953: 157.
61 Woodhull 2003: 30. Also, 28–​32 on libraries as a fitting memorial for the dead.
62 Temples: Plin. NH 36.42. Temple of Juno Regina: Plin. NH 36.24, 35. Temple of Jupiter Stator: Plin.
NH 36.35. Curia: Plin. NH 36.28. Schola: Plin. NH 35.113, 114, 36.22, 29. Various Other Unspecified
Locations: Plin. NH 35.139, 36.15.
63 Roller 2018: 218–​19. Octavia’s portico may have contained the 25 equestrian statues made in the
likenesses of Alexander’s friends by the artist Lysippus. Pliny notes that Metellus brought these statues
back from Macedonia but fails to clarify if they remained in the portico after Octavia rebuilt it (Plin.
NH 34.64). Velleius wrote that the statues faced the temples in Octavia’s portico (Vell. Pat. 1.xi.3).
Roller 2018: 199 reminds us, “In exceptional cases, female figures might attain exemplary status by

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performing an action in a ‘manly’ sphere, or in a manner that could be described in masculine value
terms.” Octavia’s mediations at Tarentum were firmly in the “manly” sphere, especially the commitment
of extra troops (App. B. Civ. 5.95; Plut. Ant. 35.4).Thus, these equestrian statues would perhaps remind
the viewer of her contribution at Tarentum. See Calcani 1989 for more on these bronze equestrian
statues.
64 Roller 2018: 214–​18. Contra Moore, Roller believes the Portico of Octavia was built by Octavian.
65 Hemelrijk 2005 argues that Octavian repurposed the statue to help normalize his grant and gives these
two reasons to explain why Octavian would re-​fashion the statue, but they are even more fitted to
Octavia’s knowledge base.
66 Roller 2018: 197–​232 discusses Cornelia as an exemplary model, with special emphasis on her
connection to Octavia.
67 Venuses: Plin. NH 36.15, 35.
68 Cupids: Plin. NH 36.22, 28.
69 Macauley-​Lewis 2009: 10.
70 Ramsey 2013 discusses Laodike and her patronage. See also Chapter 17 for more on Laodike III.
71 Ramsey 2013: 524.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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Winkes, R. 1995. Livia, Octavia, Iulia: Porträts und Darstellungen. Louvain-​la-​Neuve, Belgium.
Wood, S.E. 2000. Imperial Women: A Study in Public Images, 40 B.C.–​A.D. 68. Leiden, Boston, and Cologne.
Woodhull, M. 2003. “Engendering Space: Octavia’s Portico in Rome.” Aurora 4: 13–​33.

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32
LIVIA AND THE PRINCIPATE
OF AUGUSTUS AND TIBERIUS
Christiane Kunst

When Livia died in 29 CE the senate decreed extraordinary honors to be conferred on the
dead Augusta (a title given her and some subsequent imperial women, indicating power and
authority),1 resembling those of Augustus in 14 CE: consecration, a year’s mourning for her
on the part of the Roman women, and an arch in her honor. Most likely the senate also voted
for iustitium (abandoning the conduct of the public business for a defined period), as had been
the case for the deaths of Augustus, his adoptive sons (Caius and Lucius), and Tiberius’ Caesares
(Germanicus and Drusus Minor).2 From the senate’s perspective, Livia was a political figure.The
emperor himself curtailed a number of these honors decreed to her memory. He particularly
refused to have his mother deified, insisting on her alleged personal wishes.3 The explanatory
statement clearly shows that Livia’s deification was widely expected, if not hard to refuse. For
Tiberius, however, avoidance in this case was a question of his view on the principate’s ultimate
design. From his accession to power onwards he had been little sympathetic to his mother’s
interference and a female interpretation of imperial rule. His behavior on her death made this
perfectly clear again. By refusing to be present at her public funeral Tiberius avoided acknow-
ledgment of her past role.
However, a decade later, in 42 CE, her grandson Claudius had Livia deified within 12 months
of his accession to the purple.To him, leaning on her was essential for his claim of legitimate rule,
from a dynastic and a political point of view. For Claudius, Livia’s deification was a statement
of reassertion of the Augustan politics in which she had been prominent in representing the
leading family and of the new moral behavior which was particularly encapsulated in female
behavior.
Between 8 and 17 CE, when Ovid hoped for Livia’s help to be called back from exile,
he stated in his poems: “the earth holds nothing more glorious, save Caesar, from the sun’s
rising to its setting.”4 To him she is femina princeps (woman, but princeps) and takes a leading
position toward women and men.5 An anonymous poet echoes (between 33–​38 CE):6 “Can
we follow better patterns of virtues than in you when you do the work of a Roman (female)
princeps?”7
No other sources than these two poets apply the term “princeps” to Livia.Though composed
in a panegyrical tone, the attribution sounds problematic as Augustus himself uses “me principe”8
to refer to his rule over Rome. A decree about the imperial cult from Gytheion in Achaia,
dated to 15 CE, repeatedly refers to Livia and Tiberius as hegemones (used for principes in Greek

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texts).9 Calling Livia princeps puts her next to Augustus and implies the auctoritas/​axioma (“pres-
tige/​dignity”) that he claimed lay at the root of his overwhelming position (Res Gestae 34).
Auctoritas, however, being connected to dignitas (honor and reputation) was no male prerogative.
Hellenistic and other queens had axioma as well.10 A Roman mother assumed auctoritas materna
toward her sons, which obliged them to pay attention to her wishes beyond mere domestic
affairs.11 The historian Tacitus calls the general acceptance of Tiberius’ taking Livia’s advice
auctoritas parentis.12
In Roman society, influence and informal power to a large extent rested on individual cap-
acity to share in patronage, in providing others with favors and benefits of any kind (beneficia).13
To make an impact as patron substantial resources were needed, as well as opportunities to
generate prestige (dignitas) for oneself and others.14 Dignitas, for instance, derived from holding
formal positions of power or being close to people doing so. Dignitas was also gained from a
number of personal qualities and from success, which in turn summed up on an individual’s
auctoritas. Augustus’ auctoritas rested on the accomplishments (rerum gestarum) he laid out in
his life’s record, preserved in an inscription (Monumentum Ancyranum) from the Roma and
Augustus Temple at Ancyra in Galatia.15 One quarter of the text deals with the impensae (his
personal expenditure on the plebs Romana and the military). Next to this he lists immaterial
benefits (merita) he bestowed on the senate and people of Rome: freedom, peace, security, etc.
Another important feature of the text was the list of honors to Augustus and his sons passed by
the senate as gifts in return.
Augustus staged himself not only as princeps but also as guardian of the state and its welfare.16
The symbol of this particular role was a golden shield by which the senate honored Augustus
for the arrangements in January 27 BCE, after he had “transferred the republic from my [his]
own control to the will of the senate and the Roman people.”17 Coins issued to popularize the
golden shield show that the princeps protected state and people through the virtues inscribed
on the shield: virtus, clementia, iustitia and pietas.18
Virtues were also attributed to Livia. Both the author of the consolatio Liviae and Ovid under-
line her virtuous behavior in connection with her role as (Romana) princeps. Livia’s pudicitia
(“chastity”) even surpassed the exemplary pudicitia of the golden past.19 The Augustan historian
Livy equated female pudicitia with male virtus as a qualification to protect the city.20 In the reign
of Tiberius, three golden, shining bronze coins (Dupondii) were distributed, most likely during
the first half of 23 CE, showing on their obverses feminine personifications of pietas (veiled),
iustitia (with stephane) and an individualized portrait of Livia, salus Augusta (RIC²47). The
question whether pietas and iustitia represent goddesses or Livilla and Antonia (Livia’s grand-
daughter and her mother) or even Livia herself is controversial.21 Nonetheless these coin types
were identified with Livia in provincial coinage.22 More important for our concerns is that Livia
is not associated with a single virtue, but rather represented as bearer of public welfare, thus
uniting a collection of virtues.23 Representing Livia on the Salus-​Augusta-​coin was an extraor-
dinary honor and in line with her exceptional role in the first decade of her son’s principate up
to 26 CE, when Tiberius withdrew to Capri.
During the reign of Augustus, Livia was presented as part of imperial rule on various levels.
Though no coin was issued with her individual portrait, one particular coin type was fre-
quently minted from the time of Augustus well into the time of Tiberius and showed a female
figure (sometimes veiled) seated on a throne holding a scepter and laurel branch. At least in the
provinces, this coin was interpreted as representing Livia.24
The official frame for Livia’s integration into public representation was given by honors
bestowed on her by the Roman senate.25 Her appearance in public was legitimized first by her
role as mother, second by her engagement in Roman cult, and third by her role as benefactress.

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Livia’s honors were thus increasingly tied to accomplishments. This becomes even more
apparent when we compare the almost identical honors of 35 and 9 BCE. In 35 BCE Octavian/​
Augustus, still triumvir, had transferred the privilege of sacrosanctity given by the senate for
his victory over Sextus Pompeius to him, his wife (Livia), and sister (Octavia), the wife of his
colleague Marcus Antonius. None of the women had made any identifiable contribution to
the success at Naulochos. At the same time both women were given the right to public statues
and were freed from tutela (male guardianship), which allowed them to manage their own eco-
nomic affairs.26 Twenty years later, in 9 BCE, Livia was given the same honors again. This time,
however, the honors were tied to Livia’s merit as mother. Officially she was given the right to
public statues and the ius trium liberorum, which entailed freedom from guardianship,27 to ease
her sorrow after the loss of her commendable son Drusus.28 Ius trium liberorum was a reward for
free-​born women for having given birth to three children and was designed as an incentive by
Augustus’ marriage laws of 18 BCE. Livia had not only fulfilled the obligation by giving birth,
she had given the republic two outstanding sons.
Opportunities to appear in public were provided by religious ceremonies: in 24 BCE Livia,
together with her sister-​in-​law, performed particular rituals on the occasion of Augustus’ return
from Spain.29 She took part in the secular games of 17 BCE. Most likely she presided over the
110 matrons involved in the ceremonies.30 Religious gatherings of Roman matrons happened
on a regular basis and must have laid out the framework for the conventus matronarum, where,
under Livia’s (growing) leadership, female interaction and networking took place.31
Livia’s support of female deities is well established, as demonstrated by the restoration of
the temples of Fortuna Muliebris (“Womanly Fortune”) or Bona Dea (“Good Goddess”).32
The commitment to Bona Dea tied Livia firmly to the Vestal Virgins, traditionally responsible
for Rome’s well-​being and security, and turned her into their benefactress and leader.33 At the
festival of Bona Dea one of the obligations of the Vestal Virgins was to transfer the cult-​image
of the goddess Vesta from her temple to the house of the consul, where the priestesses together
with the consul's wife offered sacrifice to the goddess.34 Ovid describes the festival of Bona
Dea in his calendar (fasti) for the first of May and turns to its history. In the past, the temple
was dedicated by the vestal Licinia, known for her notable chastity. When he comes to Livia’s
restoration, he gives as her reason, “so she could imitate her husband and follow his lead in
everything.”35 Livia’s marital pudicitia is elevated by Ovid above the old beneficial pudicitia of the
Vestal Virgin and assumes the same nature of protecting the community.36
In addition to religious events, Livia participated in public events as part of the family. First,
her role in Augustus’ adoption of his two grandsons in 17 BCE has to be mentioned, when
the traditional formula was turned upside down and Livia became mother of the two boys.37
Secondly, she appeared in public as mother of her successful sons Tiberius and Drusus, giving
lavish gladiatorial and theatrical shows.38 Tesserae (tokens in lead, bronze, or bone) with her por-
trait document Livia’s benefaction.39 Her sons’ celebrations as victorious commanders provided
particular opportunities for her public appearances.40
In January 9 BCE, Tiberius had been awarded an ovatio (minor triumph) for his Pannonian
victory and had given a public feast for the people. At the same time Livia, together with her
daughter-​in-​law, feasted the women.41 The same festivities, planned for Drusus later in the year,
had to be cancelled because of his death in Germany.42 Only a fortnight after Tiberius’ ovatio, the
Ara Pacis, the impressive altar to the Augustan peace, decorated with panels showing the imperial
family and public office holders, was dedicated on Livia’s birthday (January 30).43 Tiberius’ vic-
tory and Livia’s birthday thus merge with the Augustan promise of peace.The calendar of Cumae
in Campania lists an annual thanksgiving on the day “for the reign of Caesar Augustus the
guardian of the Roman people.”44 That Livia played a part in the whole program can be deduced

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from her leading position on the relief panel as first of the family behind Augustus and the
already deceased Agrippa. For January 30 and the dedication of the Ara Pacis Ovid enters in his
calendar, “And ask the gods who favor pious prayer /​That the house that brings peace, may so
endure forever” (Fast. 1. 721–​2). The domus Augusta (Augustan House) was a political unit.
Two years later, in January, 7 BCE, the celebrations of 9 BCE were more or less repeated.
This time it was Tiberius who celebrated a formal triumph over the Germanic tribes. Again
two feasts were organized, one for the senators on the capitol and another for their wives by
Livia (Cass. Dio 55. 8. 2).45 The people were not left empty-​handed, because together with her
son Livia dedicated the Porticus Liviae,46 a portico surrounding a lavish garden decorated with
works of art, a pleasant gift to the urban population.47 The contemporary author Strabo (5.3)
testified to the high significance of the portico for the new Augustan Rome; he describes the
building as embedded in the imperial, gendered patronage of the new city and also connected
to the political topography of capitolium and forum.
The way Livia negotiated her position can be tracked by looking at the years between 6 CE
and 2 CE, when Tiberius, who had been sharing tribunician power with Augustus, withdrew to
Rhodes. At first intended as an attempt to put pressure on Augustus, the retirement soon turned
into exile. Livia, meanwhile, worked to restore her son to Rome, using her female network
and reinterpreting the highly cherished concordia.48 On the occasion of his triumph in 7 BCE,
Tiberius had voted to restore the temple of Concordia on the Forum Romanum, “in order that
he might inscribe upon it his own name and that of [his dead brother] Drusus.”49 When the
temple was finally dedicated by him in 10 CE, it was to Concordia Augusta,50 embracing not
only the restored concord of Tiberius and Augustus, but also the marriage of Livia and Augustus,
which became a model for the whole imperial period.51 During the absence of Tiberius, Livia
aligned herself with his promise and herself dedicated an Ara Concordiae in her porticus Liviae,
inaugurated on June 11.52 The date is notable as the Matralia was an important festival for the
Roman matrons; it enabled them to embody family solidarity. The Ara Concordiae of Livia
became a symbol of marital harmony53 and was a political tool, together with the religious
gathering of noble Romans, as a way to keep Tiberius’ case in the public eye.
Livia’s accessibility to women as well as her public representation as an ideal wife and mother
helped to create a female aspect to the principate.When the colony of Narbo dedicated an altar
to Augustus in 11 CE, the citizens’ expectations were voiced in this way: “May it be good, well-​
omened and fortunate to Imperator Caesar Augustus […] to his wife, offspring and family; to
the senate and people of Rome and to the colonists and resident aliens of the colony of Iulia
Paterna Narbo Martius […]”54 Seen from Gallia Narbonensis the imperator was at the head,
followed by his wife, children, and family, all of whom ranked before the senate and people
of Rome.
Three years later the princeps confirmed the Narbonian perspective of an imperial couple,
bequeathing his name Augustus, which the senate had bestowed on him in 27 BCE as a gift
for returning power,55 to Livia and his adoptive son Tiberius. From then onwards, Livia became
Iulia Augusta.56 The senate reacted promptly and offered the title mater patriae (mother of the
country) to Livia,57 parallel to the pater patriae once given Augustus and now to be assumed by
Tiberius. The title encapsulated the official recognition that Livia had stood next to Augustus
and was meant to keep her position next to Tiberius, who should also be addressed as “son
of Iulia.”
The new princeps forestalled the decrees, but he could not change social reality. Most honors
were granted to Livia during his principate, beginning after Augustus’ death.58 The latter had
not only bequeathed his name to his wife but also one third of his immense wealth, making her
an even richer woman. More important, Livia became priestess of the deified Augustus (sacerdos

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divi Augusti) which opened up to her a formal position, made visible by the lictor accorded to
her.59 She was prepared to use this new position to acquire an even more public role.60 For
example, on a dedication of a statue for Augustus in 22 CE, her name was put before that of
Tiberius.61 Perhaps it was on this occasion that she planned to give a banquet to the senate and
the knights together with their wives; Tiberius insisted the senate had first to allow it and then
that he and his mother had to entertain the women and men separately.62
When Livia fell ill later in the same year the senate decreed vota (“prayers”) for her health
(Tac. Ann. 3.64). She had been included in vota publica at Rome by, at the latest, 21 CE.63 The
Roman knights promised a gift for her recovery to Fortuna Equestris, later to be dedicated
at Antium (Tac. Ann. 3.71). Now Livia was given the privilege of using a carriage (the two-​
wheeled carpentum) in town, just like the Vestal Virgins.64 From 24 CE on, she took her seat
among the Vestals in the theater, supposedly to increase their prestige (Tac. Ann. 4.16). Livia’s
precedence over the Vestal Virgins actually shows that their role preserving the state had been
transferred to the Augusta. Livia was not put on an equal footing with the Vestal Virgins, but was
valued as first woman of the principate.
To sum up: Livia’s role as a model and cornerstone of the dynasty and as a universal bene-
factress justified her incorporation into public representation. This again affirmed her being the
first woman of the domus Augusta as well as of the empire.65
The Ara Pacis, decreed in 13 BCE and dedicated in 9 BCE, had made visible the entangle-
ment of the public sphere with the Augustan house. In the reign of Tiberius, Livia’s morning
receptions (salutationes) were announced in the acta publica, the official news (Cass. Dio 57.12),
underlining her role as a leading patroness.66 An anonymous poet wrote, “You direct eyes and
ears toward you, your deeds we notice,/​and the voice sent from the mouth of the princeps
cannot be covered up.”67 Moreover, the poet attests Livia has the power also to harm, but does
not wield it in a negative way. On the contrary, she does not interfere with elections or in court,
but exerts influence only in the (Augustan) house and there within reason (cons. Liviae 47–​50).
A similar position is taken by the historian Velleius Paterculus, a loyal supporter of Tiberius.
Writing shortly after Livia’s death, he describes her as, “a woman pre-​eminent among women,
and who in all things resembled the gods more than mankind, whose power no one felt except
for the alleviation of trouble or the promotion of rank.”68 Along the same lines, the senate jus-
tified the arch decreed on Livia’s death by pointing out that the Augusta had saved senators and
looked after the education and welfare of their children, by contributing to the dowries of their
daughters (Cass. Dio 58.2.3). At the beginning of the third century CE, Cassius Dio wrote, “she
occupied a very exalted station, far above all women of former days.”69
Indeed, there are quite a few testimonies that Livia was able to influence things on behalf
of herself or her friends and favorites: saving senators from the emperor’s wrath, protecting
her female friends from prosecution, providing men with offices and priesthoods, or helping
individuals and communities to tax privileges, etc. That Augustus was well aware of this fact
and indeed favored Livia as patron, presumably because he trusted her, is clearly illustrated by a
decree issued to Samos in which he makes public her suit on their behalf.70
The case of Tiberius’ praetorian prefect Seianus (Sejanus) proves that particular opportunities
to influence could create a quasi-​monarchic position. Initially, Seianus relied on the loyalty of
the guards but then he “had gained the favor of the senators, partly by the benefits he conferred,
partly by the hopes he inspired, and partly by intimidation.”71 The exchange of favors for loy-
alty is generally called patronage, but for women we should rather employ the term matronage
because we are dealing with a slightly different concept.72 On the basis of her access to the ruler
Livia could—​like any of his friends and protégées—​obtain personal favors for herself or others.
As a woman, however, she was not able to hold any office (except priesthoods) or act in court,

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let alone take on military responsibility. She therefore could only appoint people in the realm
of her own household and on the basis of her personal property, all over the empire. No doubt,
Livia’s authority reached into the highest decision-​making body, but never directly. For instance,
in its sentence on Calpurnius Piso, the Roman senate publicly approved of Livia’s intervention
to save her protégée Plancina from conviction. Beforehand, the Augusta had to turn to the prin-
ceps and make him act in her name. The senate justified its decision in favor of Plancina, who
does not seem to have been entirely innocent, with two arguments. First, Livia was entitled
to implore the senate because of her services and benefactions (merita et beneficia) toward the
state and all orders, including her having given birth to Tiberius. Second, the senate honored
Tiberius’ pietas (loyalty) toward his mother:

the senate deemed Iulia Augusta, who was most well deserving of the republic not only
because she gave birth to our princeps but also because of many and great kindnesses
to men of every order—​although she rightly and deservedly should have the greatest
influence in what she requested from the Senate, she used it most sparingly—​and the
very great devotion of our princeps to his mother should be supported and indulged;
that it was its pleasure that the punishment of Plancina be remitted.
(SC Z, 115–​20, translation Potter and Damon 1999 )73

For the patronal system, this means that even a woman of Livia’s rank was predominantly
in the broker’s position.74 On the political stage she could arrange favors for her protegées
(saving Plancina in court, appointing men to high-​ranking positions), but she could not grant
these favors single-​handed. That made her, at a certain point, dependent on remembrance and
thus gratitude for benefits obtained. After the accession of Nero, his mother Agrippina Minor
was pushed aside by those who earlier had cooperated with her to secure the young man’s
succession. From that point of view, it is not surprising that Livia, like other Augustae, built up
a great many close relationships with other women. Friends of the Augusta were, like friends of
her husband, primarily and above all allies and favorites. The favored women themselves acted
as patronesses of women and men. Plancina not only had an entourage of women, but also was
flattered by the Armenian-​Parthian ruler Vonones, who had realized that the wife of the gov-
ernor of Syria was held in high esteem at court. With plurima officia et dona (“numerous services
and presents”) he tried to win over Plancina and was therefore venerated by her husband Piso
(Tac. Ann. 2.58). Husbands and sons of women close to Livia achieved honors and offices. The
female circle of Livia also encompassed the wives of client-​kings, making it easier to affiliate
them to the principate.
Tiberius attacked these amicitiae muliebris (“feminine friendships”)75 in the letter he wrote
from Capri turning down the senate’s decrees after Livia’s death. Apparently he was targeting
the consul Fufius Geminus, “who had risen by the favor of Augusta”76 and may have been
responsible for the senate’s vote in 29 CE. Geminus’ wife Mutilia Prisca belonged to the friends
of Livia and opened up the inner circle (inter intimos) for her husband.77 In any case the prom-
inent timing of Tiberius’ critique illustrates that the princeps was not talking about his mother’s
personal friends but the patronal system described.
Women of the local elites either had close ties to the imperial court and/​or imitated the
Augusta’s behavior, patronizing their own communities. This can best be proved by looking at
endowments for public buildings.78 Priestesses of the imperial cult were of particular import-
ance here, since they acted also as benefactresses out of their priestly role and made benefactions
in their own name or on behalf of their children.79 In return, they gained public honors and
privileges. It seems probable that individual women identified with the Augusta as being a good

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wife and imitated her as patron and broker of personal and family interests, but also tried to
enhance their own social position and local prestige in their local communities by adapting
patterns of matronage established by the Augusta.
Livia’s particular involvement with women and their roles stimulated female integration into
the political system of the principate and contributed to its stability.The incorporation of women
was highly political. Augustus’ promiscuity was defended on the grounds that he was trying “to
keep track of his adversaries’ designs through the women of their households.”80 During the late
republic and in the triumvir period, women of the leading families had participated in political
affairs through their family connections. The relationships with Livia renewed these opportun-
ities and channeled ambitions at the same time. Since access to the Augusta provided dispro-
portionally high chances for women to gain prestige, the number of women participating grew
notably, but this also happened because they were no longer exclusively dependent on their
male-​dominated family networks. The tendency to provide women prepared to adjust to the
new political system with some kind of independence also accords with Augustan marital laws.
Women of wealth who were prepared to give birth were rewarded with economic freedom of
action (ius trium liberorum).

Conclusions
In the principates of Augustus and Tiberius, Livia was decreed exceptional honors that
acknowledged her distinguished position as princeps among the women. She personified the
female interpretation of the Augustan principate. Public appearances in the religious sphere or
as mother of successful commanders gave her the opportunity to present herself as guarantor of
welfare and security. Her role was complementary to that of the princeps whom she emulated
and supported. The mater domus Augusti (“the mother of the Augustan house”) transforms into
mater patriae, “mother of the country.”
Livia generates auctoritas (“authoritative dignity”) as the basis of her political agency through
her intimate relationship with the ruler and participation in the patronal system. Her assets were
a) access to the emperor, b) chances to build, maintain, and activate personal ties with relevant
people, and c) disposal of material wealth. Matronage was an accepted social practice for influen-
tial families of the republic. Concentrating political power in the hands of a single ruler propor-
tionally enhanced the opportunities of women in this family and those who had access to them.
The female side of the principate was not limited to natural reproduction; it was reflected in the
integration of leading women into the political sphere via matronage. The Augusta became the
moral ideal in virtue as loyal wife and mother of the family and house, but she also became a
broker of social opportunities and a stimulus to other women to engage in their home civitas to
enhance their personal as well as their family prestige. In this way, Livia made her contribution as
mater patriae and salus Augusta for acceptance and consolidation of the principate.

Notes
1 Cass. Dio 58.2; Tac. Ann. 5.2.1; Suet. Tib. 51.2.
2 Kunst 2008b.
3 Tac. Ann. 5.2.1; Suet. Tib. 51.2.
4 Ov. pont. 3.1.127–​8.
5 Ovid. pont. 125; see Ov. Tr. 1.6.25: “femina seu princeps.”
6 For the date of the consolatio: Schlegelmilch 2005; Jenkins 2009.
7 Cons. Liv. 349, 355–​6 : “an melius per te virtutum exempla petemus,/​quam si Romanae principis
edis opus?”

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8 RG 13; 30; 32: έπ’ έμοῦ ήγεμόνος (“in my time as princeps”).

9 SEG 11, 922. The monumentum ancyranum uses hegemon for princeps, cf. Kunst 2014.
10 Diod. 19.11.2; 51.6 (Olympias); Plut. Dem. 14 (Phila).
11 Asconius (p. 23St.) in his introduction to Cicero‘s speech pro Scauro; Hillard 1983. In the good old days
a severa mater had bossed her sons around and made decisions concerning the farm’s economic welfare
(Hor. Carm. 3.6.39f.).
12 Tac. Ann. 5.3.1.
13 For the following, see Kunst 2010: 147; 2013b: 7–​14.
14 See Plin. Ep. 10.26.3. See Saller 1982: 76.
15 See RG. 4; Ov. Fast. 1.606: “illa domus meritis maxima dicta suis.”
16 See Kunst 2014: 158–​9.
17 RG. 34; AE 1952, 156 (clipeus virtutis).
18 Two victories holding the shield: RIC 86a, RIC 42a.
19 Ov. Pont. 3.1.113–​18.
20 Liv. 23.7–​8: “vosque hortor ut, quod certamen virtutis viros in hac civitate tenet, hoc pudicitiae inter
matronas sit.”
21 Harvey 2011: 335–​7; 2019.
22 Tiberius: RIC 42, 46f. For identification with Livia, see RPC I 1570.
23 Clauss 1999: 87 identifies Livia as Goddess Salus; for Livia‘s identification with Ceres, goddess of
fecundity and agricultural wealth, see Bartman 1999, 93–​4. For Livia as Ceres on the Ara Pacis, see
Spaeth 1994.
24 Augustus: RIC I² 219f.; Tiberius: RIC I² 25–​30, 71–​3; for explicit interpretations as Livia in provin-
cial coins, see: RPC I 39 (Emerita), 66 (Italica), 341 (Caesaraugusta/​Tarrac.), 849 (Leptis Magna), 1569
(Thessaloniki), 2097 (Bithynia), 3919 (Cyprus), 4005 (Tarsos/​Cilik.).
25 Alexandridis 2004: 37–​8.
26 Cass. Dio 49.38.1. Scardigli 1982. See also Chapter 31 in this volume.
27 “Right of three children” = freedom from guardianship after having given birth to three children.
28 Cass. Dio 55.2.5.
29 Hor. Carm. 3.14.
30 Indicated by the close imitation of the Severan festival and the role of the empress Iulia Domna therein,
see Cancik 1996; Schnegg-​Köhler 2002: 28–​9.
31 Purcell 1986; Šterbenc Erker 2013: 81; Hemelrijk 2015: 213ff.
32 CIL VI 883; Ov. Fast. 5. 148–​58.
33 Severy 2003: 135.
34 Cic. Har. Resp. 37–​38; 44; Brouwer 1989: 369.
35 Ov. Fast. 5. 148–​58: “ne non imitata maritum /​esset et ex omni parte secuta suum;” Herbert-​Brown
1994: 130; for the identity of the Vestal as Licinia, see Barrett 2002: 333–​4.
36 For the pudicita of the Vestal Virgins, see Stahlmann 1997: 117–​42.
37 Kunst 2014.
38 Suet. Tib. 7.1.
39 Rostovtzeff 1905: 23–​6; Buttrey 1973: plate 4, nos. 11–​13; 20.Virlouvet 1995: 349.
40 For integration of women into the triumph, see Flory 1990: esp. 491–​3.
41 Cass. Dio 55.2.4: “καὶ τοῦ δήμου τοὺς μὲν ἐν τῷ Καπιτωλίῳ τοὺς δ´ ἄλλοθι πολλαχόθι ἐδείπνισε.
Κἀν τούτῳ καὶ ἡ Λιουία μετὰ τῆς Ἰουλίας τὰς γυναῖκας εἱστίασε.”
42 Cass. Dio 55.2.5.
43 Dedication 9 BCE: Fasti Praenestini (=InscrIt XIII 2,17); decree in July, 13 BCE: RG. 12; Fasti
Amiternini (=InscrIt XIII 2,25).
44 Feriale Cumanum: InscrIt XIII 2,44: “[III K(alendas) Febr(uarias) eo die ara Pacis dedicata] est
supplicatio Imperio Caesaris Augusti custo[dis] /​[i(mperii) R(omani).”
45 For another feast in the celebration of the triumph in 12 BCE, see Suet. Tib. 21, but no activities
of Livia known. Possibly the opening of the macellum Liviae on the Esquiline hill belongs in this
context.
46 For the education together with triumph: Cass. Dio 55.8.1; for the portico: Plin. HN. 14.11; Ov. Ars.
am. 1.71–​2; Ov. Fast. 6.639–​46; Cass. Dio 54.23.6 takes Augustus as benefactor who attached Livia’s
name to the building (similarly Suet. Aug. 29.4), but this clearly contradicts Strabo and other cited
testimonies.
47 Claridge 2010: 301–​40; Flory 1984.

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48 In Livy’s Roman history from the Augustan period the lack of concordia is responsible for the cata-
strophic defeats against Hannibal, see Ridley 2000: 20, 38.
49 Cass. Dio 55.8.2. In 6 CE, he dedicated the temple of Castor (and Pollux) in his and his brother’s
names (Cass. Dio 55.27.4) as part of the commemoration of Drusus, 15 years after his death; see CIL
6, 40339 = AE 1992, 159.
50 The fasti Verulani (InscrIt 13,2,22) composed between 14 and 37 CE give for January 16 [without
year]: “XVII n(efas) p(iaculum) fer(iae) [e]‌x s(enatus) c(onsulto) quod eo die aedis /​C[o]ncordiae in
foro dedic(ata) est;” whereas the fasti Praenestini (InscrIt 13,2,17 = AE 2007, 312) mention on January
16, 10 CE, “Concordiae Au[gustae aedis dedicat]a est P(ublio) Dolabella C(aio) Silano co(n)[s(ulibus)]
/​Ti(berius) Caesar ex Pa[nnonia reversus dedic]avit.”
51 For concordia, see Noreña 2011: 132–​5.
52 Ov. Fast. (June 11) 6.637–​48. Kunst 2008a: 163–​5.
53 Openly connected to the temple of Tiberius: Ov. Fast. 1.649 (January 16).
54 CIL XII 433: “quod bonum faustum felixque sit Imp(eratori) Caesari […] coniugi liberis gentique
eius senatui /​populoque Romano et colonis incolisque /​c(oloniae) I(uliae) P(aternae) N(arbonensis)
M(artii).”
55 RG. 34; Suet. Aug. 101.
56 Cenerini 2016.
57 Tac. Ann. 1.14; Cass. Dio 58.2.3 cf. Cass. Dio 57.12.3–​4. The city of Leptis Magna issued coins with
Livia as Augusta mater patria(e) (RPC 849).
58 Hahn 1994: 43–​105; for Livia’s cult in Greece, see Stafford 2013: 205–​38; Bräänstedt 2016.
59 Lictors were granted to chief magistrates who had imperium and thus showed their rank. From the
Triumviral period on,Vestal Virgins were also given a lictor, apparently, however, to protect them when
they left the Atrium Vestae (Cass Dio 47.19.4).
60 Kunst 2008a: 197–​9.
61 InscrIt 13,2,17 (fasti Praenestini): “[Viminalia] Iulia Augusta and Tiberius Augustus dedicated a statue to
the father Augustus near the theatre of Marcellus” (sig[num] divo Augusto patri ad theatrum Marc[elli]
/​Iulia Augusta et Ti[berius] Augustus dedicarunt); see Tac. Ann 3.64. 2. At Gytheion (SEG 11, 922),
Livia was named after the deifeid Augustus, but before the living princeps Tiberius.
62 Cass. Dio 57.12.5.
63 CIL VI 32340 (January 11, 21 CE).
64 RIC² 51.
65 Vell. Pat. 2.75.3: “genere, probitate, forma Romanorum eminentissima…”
66 For the relevance of salutationes for people close to the emperor, see Cass. Dio 58.5.1–​4.
67 Cons. Liv. 350f: “ad te oculos, auresque trahis, tua facta notamus /​Nec vox missa potest principis
ore tegi.”
68 Vell. Pat. 2.130.5: “eminentissima et per omnia deis quam hominibus similior femina, cuius potentiam
nemo sensit nisi aut levatione periculi aut accessione dignitatis.”
69 Cass. Dio 57.12.2: “Πάνυ γὰρ μέγα καὶ ὑπὲρ πάσας τὰς πρόσθεν γυναῖκας ὤγκωτο[…].”
70 Reynolds, J., Aphrodisias and Rome, London 1982, No. 13, commentary 104 –​106. Kunst 2008a: 77.
71 Cass. Dio 58.4.2 (Xiphilinos 145, 22): “καὶ τῶν βουλευτῶν τὸ μὲν εὐεργεσίαις τὸ δὲ ἐλπίσι τὸ δὲ καὶ
φόβῳ προσεπεποίητο[…]”
72 Kunst 2010.
73 “senatum arbitrari et Iuliae Aug(ustae), optume de r(e) p(ublica) meritae non partu tantum modo
principis nostri, sed etiam multis magnisq(ue) erga cuiusq(ue) ordinis homines beneficis, quae, cum
iure meritoq(ue) plurumum posse<t> in eo, quod a senatu petere deberet, parcissume uteretur
eo, et principis nostri summa<e> erga matrem suam pietati suffragandum indulgendumq(ue) esse
remittiq(ue) poenam Plancinae placere.”
74 Seianus tried to use Livia and Livilla to discredit Agrippina and her children in the eyes of Tiberius, see
Tac. Ann. 4.12.4.
75 Tac. Ann. 5.2.2.
76 Tac. Ann.
77 Mutilia Prisca allegedly opened the circle to her lover: Tac. Ann. 4.12.4.
78 Hemelrijk 2013. For the prominent Eumachia, see Cooley 2013: 31–​6; Edelmann-​Singer 2013.
79 See for example Lutatia CIL X 7501 (Gaulus/​Gozzo).
80 Suet. Aug. 69.1: “quo facilius consilia adversariorum per cuiusque mulieres exquireret.” Seianus was
supposed to have liaisons for the same reasons; see Cass. Dio 58.3.8.

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Livia and the principate

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

RPC Burnett, A., and Amandry, M., and Ripollès, P.P. 1992–​. Roman Provincial Coinage, 10 vols. London.

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Livia bis Iulia Domna. Mainz.
Barrett, A.A. 2002. Livia: First Lady of Imperial Rome. New Haven and London.
Bartman, E. 1999. Portraits of Livia: Imaging the Imperial Woman in Augustan Rome. Cambridge.
Bräänstedt, L. 2016. Femina Princeps: Livia’s Position in the Roman State. PhD Dissertation, Lund
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Brouwer, H.H.J. 1989. Bona Dea: The Sources and a Description of the Cult. Études préliminaires aux religions
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Cancik, H. 1996. “Carmen und sacrificium: Das Saecularlied des Horaz in den Saecularakten des Jahres 17.
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Cenerini, F. 2016. “Le matronae diventano Augustae: un nuovo profilo femminile.” In F. Cenerini and
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Edelmann-​Singer, B. 2013. “Herrscherfrauen als Leitfiguren: Iulia Severa, Poppaea und die ‘Matronage’
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33
JULIO-​C LAUDIAN
IMPERIAL WOMEN
Francesca Cenerini

Introduction
This chapter takes into consideration six women, chosen because they represent the continuity
of the Julio-​Claudian family: Julia the Elder, Agrippina the Elder, Claudia Livia Julia, Valeria
Messalina, and Agrippina the Younger. These women represent the most direct link with the
charismatic blood of the founder of the empire, especially after his divinization. These women
had the task of transmitting the blood of the god Augustus to their successors.These ties, neces-
sary for the succession of the emperor and functional to the role of these women at court, are
highlighted by their marriages. Until Nero’s death in 68 CE, the emperor always belonged to
the same Julio-​Claudian family and the women examined in this chapter were the mothers of
aspiring, designated, or actual successors.
There are three major ancient works that discuss these women: the Annales of Tacitus (since
the death of Augustus), the Lives of the 12 Caesars of Suetonius and the Roman History of
Cassius Dio. Tacitus’ narrative is certainly political, but it is vitiated by his substantial hostility to
the imperial court. Suetonius is a biographer who often indulges in gossip, while the version
of Cassius Dio, dating from the third century CE and therefore the furthest from the events
narrated, displays the attitudes of the court of the third century CE, a very different cultural and
political world from that of the Julio Claudians.

Julia the Elder and Julia the Younger

Julia the Elder, only daughter of Augustus and of his second wife Scribonia, played a key role
in Augustus’ succession1. In 25 BCE Julia married her cousin Marcellus, son of Augustus’ sister
Octavia. Two years later her husband died, and at the end of 21 BCE she married Marcus
Vispanius Agrippa, a good military commander loyal to Augustus (Plut. Ant. 87. 1–​5; Suet. Aug.
63). The marriage produced five children: three sons, Gaius Caesar, Lucius Caesar, and Agrippa
named Postumus, since he was born after his father’s death in 12 BCE, and two daughters, Julia
the Younger and Agrippina the Elder (Suet. Aug. 64). Julia, left a widow for the second time,
married Tiberius, the older son of Livia, third wife of Augustus, while her sons Gaius and Lucius
had already been adopted in 17 BCE by their grandfather Augustus as his designated heirs (Suet.
Aug. 65). About 10 BCE Julia and Tiberius lost their newborn child (Suet. Tib. 7. 2–​3) and from

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9 BCE on, the relationship between the spouses declined in such an irreparable way that in 6
BCE Tiberius retreated to Rodi. Sources explain this voluntary exile in different ways; how-
ever, the passionate rivalry between Julia’s and Claudius’ family branches in view of Augustus’
succession was indisputable.2
In 2 BCE Julia was removed from Rome under the pretext of her scandalous way of life
(Suet. Aug. 65.4; Dio 55.10.12–​16); her father, the emperor Augustus, supported the charge
by writing a letter to the senate. On the grounds of adultery, Julia was relegated in insulam
Pandataria (“to the island of Ventotene”) according to the legislation that Augustus had firmly
supported in 18/​17 BCE with regard to the family law, the lex Iulia de adulteriis coercendis.3
It is clear, on the one hand, that ancient writers mainly reported the official version confirmed
by Augustus, which identified the adulteries of Julia and her immoral way of life as the reason
for her being sentenced. However, it is highly likely that the charge of adultery was created as a
pretext;4 this fact should be read in a political way, as the reaction of some members of Augustus’
own entourage to the increasing conservatism of Augustus himself. Julia and her supporters
pressed to make the monarchy more autocratic and populist, based on the support of both
soldiers and the people, according to the model of Hellenistic monarchy. Tiberius, in contrast,
was seen as the representative of the agreement with the conservative and traditionalist ruling
class within the domus principis (the family and the court of emperor). Iullus Antonius was a key
figure among Julia’s friends: accused of being her lover, he was heir to the political inheritance
of his father Marcus Antonius. According to Cassius Dio (55.10.15), Iullus’ actions were driven
by the desire to become emperor. Augustus’ subsequent propaganda would not have missed
a chance to create a parallel between the old bond between Antonius and Kleopatra and the
new one between Iullus Antonius and Julia. As Seneca wrote (Brev. vitae 4.6), Augustus could
not accept iterum timenda cum Antonio mulier (“to fear for the second time a woman next to an
Anthony”), after the danger represented by Kleopatra VII, Queen of Egypt.
Despite the marriage Augustus imposed on Julia and Tiberius in 11 BCE, his conferment of
proconsular power and the power of a tribune on Tiberius, his adoption of Julia’s children and
the self-​imposed retirement of Tiberius, he had no intention of indulging the political plans of
the Iulii branch. The charges against Julia and Iullus Antonius ratified their defeat (even if not
actually definitive).
Some years later, in 8 CE, Julia’s daughter, named Julia and called the Younger in order to
distinguish her from the mother, would be involved in another conspiracy against her grand-
father. In 4 BCE Julia the Younger married the noble Lucius Aemilius Paullus, who was related
to Scribonia. Like her mother, Julia the Younger was also accused and charged with adultery. She
was also a leading light of those in the court now antagonistic to the designated heir Tiberius
rather than to Augustus himself. In 8 CE Julia the Younger and her husband L. Aemilius Paullus
fell into misfortune: the adoption by Augusus of Agrippa Postumus, last son of Agrippa and Julia
the Elder and therefore last direct heir of the Julii, was revoked, an adoption that had once been
granted by Augustus. The young prince was exiled first to Sorrento then to Pianosa. Evidently,
a heated dynastic dispute between the two branches of the Julio-​Claudian dynasty had taken
place. The political faction connected to Julia the Younger looked to Agrippa Postumus as heir
of Augustus and opposed Tiberius, who was, in turn, supported by the faction of Augustus
and Livia. A plot was planned to free Agrippa Postumus and take him to Germany, where his
brother-​in-​law Germanicus and sister Agrippina the Elder were located supposedly in order to
raise the legions against Tiberius; the young man, however, was murdered, even if it is not clear
from whom the order actually came. His slave Clement, who looked like him, took his place
and was also killed while marching on Rome at the head of an army (Tac. Ann. 2.39–​40; Suet.
Tib. 25; Dio 57.16.3–​4). The poet Ovid was somehow involved in the conspiracy of Julia the

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Younger and of L. Aemilius Paullus; for this reason, Augustus exiled Ovid to Tomi on the Black
Sea and never let him return to Rome, despite the numerous and heartfelt pleas of the poet to
the emperor. Ovid incriminated himself in two crimes, a carmen and an error. The carmen could
be the Ars Amatoria, a work which did not suit the new moralism of Augustus; the error is still
unknown but could be linked to the behavior of Aemilius Paullus and Julia the Younger.5

Agrippina the Elder

The heir of Augustus, in the end, was Tiberius. Lucius and Gaius Caesar died prema-
turely, respectively in 2 CE and in 4 CE, in which year Augustus obliged Tiberius to adopt
Germanicus, son of Drusus the Elder and Antonia the Younger (Suet. Cal. 1.1). Germanicus
was very popular among the troops of the Germanic frontier since he had the support of
the plebeians of Rome, many of whom were enlisted after the defeat of the legions of Varus
(Tac. Ann. 1.16.3). Modern historians report the presence of his wife, Agrippina the Elder,
and her effective role on the Rhine front between 14 CE and 15 CE together with their son
Gaius Julius Caesar, also in relation to the different versions of Tacitus (Ann. 1.40.1–​4) and of
Cassius Dio (57.5, 6–​7) based on different sources. In any case we must underline the presence
near the military front of the wife of a military commander, despite her being pregnant and
accompanied by a little child, just like her mother Julia, who appeared in front of the Roman
populace while pregnant, on the occasion of the Saecular Games. Agrippina announced to the
potential supporters of her husband Germanicus that she belonged to the domus of Augustus by
blood (Tac. Ann. 1.40.3: se divo Augustus ortam) and proclaimed her role as heir of the domus via
her several maternities. Such propaganda reasons, which were certainly present in the autobio-
graphical work written by her daughter Agrippina the Younger,6 with a clear apologetic intent,
were also present in Tacitus’ description of the role of Agrippina the Elder during the fight
on the Rhine front. The novitas of an imperatoria uxor (the novelty of a woman who had the
power) near the military front fits within a familial and dynastic context: the father Agrippa,
the grandfather Augustus, the stepfather Drusus and the son Gaius (nicknamed Caligula, since
he wore military shoes: Tac. Ann. 1.41.2). Once Tiberius was emperor, his natural son, Drusus
Julius Caesar (called the Younger), played a relevant role in the succession. Drusus Julius Caesar
could also boast a powerful marriage from a dynastic viewpoint: he was married to Claudia
Livia Julia, who was not only the daughter of Drusus the Elder and of Antonia the Younger,
but, more importantly, also the widow of Gaius Caesar, who had earlier been designated heir,
and in 14/​15 CE was pregnant by her husband Drusus.7 Tacitus (Ann. 44.6) appositely iden-
tified the grounds of the dispute between the two couples.8 We have no information about
possible and similar actions of (Claudia) Livia Julia on the Illyrian front where she might have
accompanied her husband (since she had no daughter who could have recorded such possible
actions).
In any case, sources indicate that the marriage between Germanicus and Agrippina the Elder
was characterized by affection and mutual devotion: her modesty and love for her husband
reinforced, however, her arrogant character (Tac. Ann. 1.33.3). After Germanicus’ death in 19 CE
(under circumstances which had never been completely clarified) and the death of Drusus Julius
Caesar in 23 CE, a conflict within Tiberius’ camp between Seianus, powerful praetorian prefect,
and Agrippina the Elder took shape. In fact, after her husband’s death in Antioch, and notwith-
standing the fact that she remained loyal to her husband’s memory (Tac. Ann. 4.12.2: pudicitia
Agrippinae impenetrabili), she started to be dominandi avida (“power-​hungry”), and to behave
in a way that was contrary to male conceptions of proper female behavior.9 After returning
to Rome with the urn containing her husband’s ashes, Agrippina continued with a brilliant

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communication strategy aiming to present herself as the inconsolable widow of a “myth” and to
prepare the succession as emperor of one of her sons.10
According to sources, her relationship with Tiberius further worsened after the death of
Drusus Julius Caesar. In these years a split between Agrippina and Germanicus’ supporters
developed. On the one hand, we find some friends of Germanicus joining forces with Seianus
who were supported by Tiberius; on the other hand, we have Agrippina the Elder keeping her
husband’s memory alive and looking for consensus among the senators. Seianus’ shrewd lead-
ership further strained the relationship between Agrippina the Elder and Tiberius. In 26 CE
Tiberius refused Agrippina the Elder permission to marry again, clearly intending to avoid
strengthening her position. One again, Agrippina the Elder reminded Tiberius that she was
descended from Augustus (Tac. Ann. 4.26.2: celesti sanguine ortam) and therefore had the right to
play an important role within the new center of power, the domus Augusta (the family and the
court of emperor),11 which was deeply divided about the appointment of Tiberius’ heir. In 29
CE, Tiberius, now retired in voluntary exile to Capri, acting at the instigation of Seianus, built
a case against Agrippina the Elder and her older son Nero. Agrippina the Elder died in exile,
while Nero was led to kill himself in 30 or 31 CE. The same fate descended on Nero’s brother
Drusus, who was arrested in 30 CE and died in prison in 33. Caligula was now the only sur-
viving son of Germanicus and of Agrippina the Elder.

Claudia Livia Julia

Tacitus portrayed the elder Agrippina negatively, especially because she seemed to have passed
down the desire to be Augusta to her namesake daughter. The importance of this power
legacy on a family dynastic base was one of the distinguishing aspects of Tiberius’ heir Gaius
(Caligula). Caligula may have inherited this feeling for the congruence of his family and
imperial power from his mother; if so, Agrippina the Elder played an important role in the
evolution of the principate.12 Seianus, in order to consolidate his position in the succession
to the principate, planned to marry Germanicus’ sister, (Claudia) Livia Julia, widow of Gaius
Caesar and of Drusus Julius Caesar, and also mother of the very young Tiberius Gemellus,
grandson of the emperor, in order to aspire to a sort of regency. The praetorian prefect, how-
ever, underestimated Antonia the Younger, mother of Livia Julia, and widow of Drusus the
Elder, brother of Tiberius. Antonia had her brother-​in-​law Tiberius deliver a letter in which
she explicitly accused Seianus of laying claim to the power. The intervention of Antonia
marked the end of Seianus, who was sentenced to death in 31 CE, and of Livia Julia, who died
shortly after. In this case, Tacitus commented perceptively: he described the scheme of Seianus
to pretend to be in love with Livia Julia and so led her to have a sexual relationship with him
(Ann. 4.3). In this way, she would have lost her virtue and, consequently, any inhibitory brakes.
Tacitus accused Livia Julia, driven by her desire for power, of having killed her husband to
please Seianus, “hoping that they could then get married and reign together.” Thus, in Tacitus’
view, Livia Julia, granddaughter of Augustus, daughter-​in-​law of Tiberius, mother of the chil-
dren of Drusus Julius Caesar, betrayed herself and her noble origins by loving a non-​noble man
and by succumbing to the dark fascination of murder.
We do not know whether Livia Julia really killed her husband or not. His death would cer-
tainly have weakened her position at court. Apicata, whom Seianus divorced in 23 CE, accused
Seianus and Livia Julia of having poisoned Drusus Julius Caesar. Tacitus (Ann. 4.11.2) asserted
that proofs of this charge would have been found in the confessions (extorted under torture)
of a doctor and of the eunuch Ligido. Sentencing Livia Julia to death could suggest her actual
participation in the “conspiracy of Seianus.” However, we must stress Tacitus’ disdain for a noble

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woman who linked herself to a man of non-​noble origins, even if he was the praetorian prefect;
Tacitus considered it an unnatural marriage from which only monsters could be born.13
After the fall of Seianus, only two Iulii could aspire to the succession: Caligula, the surviving
son of Germanicus and Agrippina the Elder who was raised by his grandmother Antonia the
Younger, and Tiberius Gemellus, son of Drusus Julius Caesar and Livia Julia. Tiberius elected
them co-​heirs, but Caligula, thanks to his parents, had the support of both the army and the
plebs. Tiberius also had to choose the husbands for the two daughters of Germanicus and
Agrippina the Elder, Julia Drusilla and Julia Livilla, since the age of both girls did not permit
further delays. The selected husbands were, respectively, Lucius Cassius Longinus (and, later, as
indicated by Caligula, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus) and Marcus Vinicius (Tac. Ann. 6.15.1). Gnaeus
Domitius Ahenobarbus, consul in 32 CE, son of Antonia the Elder, had been chosen five years
before for the elder daughter, Agrippina the Younger.
At the death of Tiberius in 37 CE, the senate elected as emperor Caligula, who was strongly
supported by the praetorian prefect Macro.14 The short reign of Caligula was marked by the role
played at court by women. Antonia the Younger died in May 37 CE. Despite sources suggesting
an increasing conflict between grandmother and granddaughter (Suet. Cal. 23.2; Dio 59.3.6),
the death of the old matron deprived Caligula of an important point of reference, as well as
her huge clientele and influential friendships.15 In 37 CE Caligula entombed the ashes of his
mother Agrippina the Elder in Augustus’ mausoleum, which had been built by the founder
of the empire near the Ara Pacis. The inscription on the cremains vessel containing her ashes
commemorated her as the daughter of Marcus Agrippa, granddaughter of the divine Augustus,
wife of Germanicus Caesar, and mother of prince Caius Caesar Augustus Germanicus.16
Suetonius’ biography of Caligula focused on his sexual life: marriages, adulteries, homo-
sexuality, and incest. Caligula, clearly in search of an heir, had four wives who were barely
more than bit players on the contemporary political scene. Junia Claudilla died in childbirth
before 37 CE.17 His marriage to Cornelia Orestilla lasted only few months, perhaps because
she did not get pregnant.18 In line with his attempt to give the Roman government a strong
theocratic aspect, on the model of the Hellenistic monarchies, and, at the same time, to utilize
the genetic Julian inheritance of the domus Augusta, between 37 and 38 CE Caligula granted
special honors to his sisters (in the formulae of oaths and in coinage productions; Suet. Cal.
15.3).19 According to Suetonius (Cal. 24.3), Caligula had strong ties to Drusilla who was dei-
fied post mortem (38 CE), an act which has been interpreted as a celebration of the dynasty.20
However, Suetonius himself wrote (Cal. 24.1) that Caligula had incestuous relationships with
all his sisters. After Drusilla’s death, Caligula looked again at the issue of the dynastic succession
and decided to marry Lollia Paulina, wife of the consul P. Memmius Regulus, who had been
repudiated because of her sterility (Dio 59.23.7). Milonia Caesonia, in advanced stages of preg-
nancy, became the last wife of Caligula in 39 CE and gave birth to a daughter, Julia Drusilla,
who in any case was proclaimed as daughter of the emperor and daughter of Jupiter, the divinity
with whom the emperor identified (Dio 59.28.7). The cruel character ascribed by Suetonius
(Cal. 25.4) to this poor daughter killed when she was barely one year old, derived, of course, to
propaganda hostile to Caligula.21
However, the maternity of Caesonia and the increasing influence on Caligula of people
who did not belong to the family coterie led to the exclusion from the succession of Agrippina
the Younger and Livilla, sisters of the emperor, and of their sons. This exclusion was probably
the reason for the participation of his sisters in the plot hatched by two men: M. Aemilius
Lepidus, Drusilla’s second husband, the widowed lover of Agrippina the Younger and of Livilla
(according to Dio 59.22.6), and personal friend of the emperor; and Gaetulicus, governor of
the province of Upper Germania. Caligula, however, thwarted the plot: Gaetulicus and Lepidus

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Francesca Cenerini

were sentenced to death, while Agrippina the Younger and Livilla were exiled after their prop-
erties were put up for auction by their brother (Suet. Cal. 39.1). In any case, according to Tacitus
(Ann. 14.2.2), even in these first years Agrippina the Younger would have been driven by a real
“thirst for power.” After another plot, which put together members of the senate representing
the domus Augusta and courtiers, had removed Caligula, his wife Caesonia, and his daughter
Drusilla in January 41 CE, Claudius, younger brother of Germanicus, took power. According
to the latest scholarship, Claudius, who was far from being the lame and stuttering laughing-​
stock of the family, had always had a prominent position within the domus Augusta, even if
more limited compared to that of Tiberius and Germanicus himself.22 Caligula also sent away
Claudius after the discovery of the family plot, even though Claudius was neither complicit nor
even aware of it.23
One of the most important elements of the propaganda of the first years of Claudius’ empire
was focused on his membership of the domus Augusta. Among his first actions, there was the
deification of his grandmother Livia on January 17, 42 CE, the anniversary of her wedding
to Augustus;24 her marble statue was also placed in the temple dedicated to the divus Augustus
(Dio 60. 5. 2). He conferred on his mother Antonia the Younger the title of Augusta.25 In fact,
Claudius continued a modified version of the policy of his predecessor Caligula, one aimed
at establishing the high position of the women of the imperial domus who were seen as key
elements in the transfer of power.26 Claudius’ behavior showed that the depiction of the divine
origins, character, and deification of the ruling family were an essential part of imperial self-​
representation.27 Livia was adopted by Augustus in his testament: she changed her status from
wife into daughter, changing her name from Livia Drusilla to Iulia Augusta as well, a change
which represented the final statement of her legitimacy in the creation and transfer of power
within the domus Augusta.28

Valeria Messalina
At the time he came to power in 41 CE, Claudius was married to the noble Valeria Messalina.
She went down in history as the “imperial prostitute” (meretrix Augusta), thanks to the portraits
that Juvenal, Tacitus, Suetonius, and Cassius Dio painted of her. Both ancient and modern
authors depict Messalina as a feminine representative of the evil tria vitia: avaritia, saevitia, and
libido (“greed for money, cruelty and sexual excess”). It is highly probable that this negative por-
trayal was inspired by a mystifying event, one that upset Claudius’ court and led to her death,
one for which we cannot currently find a sufficiently clear explanation: her adulterous marriage
to Caius Silius, elected consul, “the most beautiful man in Rome” according to Tacitus.29
According to ancient sources, Messalina was a slave to erotic passion. According to the author
of praetexta Octavia, doubtless the closest source in time to the events, she was pray to sexual
furor. In this work, her daughter Octavia blamed Messalina who, caught up in a sort of erotic
excitement, wanted to get married again, ignoring her children, her husband, and the laws, only
to die at the order of her enemies (257–​269). According to Cassius Dio (60.18), Messalina was
not the only woman to be perverted, she also forced other women to act as she did. The report
of Juvenal (6.116–​32) is well known: at night, she left the marriage bed, wearing a blond wig,
and using the street name Lycisca she sold her body in a low-​class brothel, offering free the
same womb that gave birth to Britannicus. As we can see, this is a portrait that was fundamen-
tally shaped by prejudices, and tragic events involving Claudius’ wife followed. We must not
forget that, for the first time, the emperor’s wife had given birth to a boy after the emperor had
come to power, a fact that at first strengthened Messalina’s position at court so much that there
are Alexandrian monetary emissions celebrating her fecunditas (“fertility”), as someone who

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brought health to the empire. In the year 47 CE Messalina seemed to reinforce her position
at court and “to rule” according to her whims while fooling the emperor (Dio. 60.14, 16.2;
27.4.2). The story could simply be a rhetorical expedient used by sources to forewarn of the
disaster. The portrait of the nymphomaniac and lethal dark lady reached its paroxysmal apex in
the version by Cassius Dio.
Tacitus also said that Messalina was increasingly angry and cruel. We have an example of
this attitude during the Ludi Saeculares organized by Claudius in 47 CE, when the plebs on the
occasion of the Trojan Games applauded Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, son of Agrippina the
Younger and the future emperor Nero, more warmly than Britannicus, son of Claudius and
Messalina. This was the context in which she lost her head over Silius, the most beautiful man
of Rome (Tac. Ann. 11.12.2) and the appointed consul in 48 CE.
Tacitus, with regard to the insane love of Messalina, used the verb exardesco (“to burn”), indi-
cating the uncontrollable woman’s libido, a word that was already adopted by ancient writers to
exemplify immoral women because of their passionate nature.Tacitus constructed a scale for the
vices of Messalina, according to which her uncontrollable impudicitia is stronger than her ambi-
tion for power. Tacitus stressed that the lovers were without restraint and without shame, but
contemporary historians wonder whether the actions of Silius and Messalina related to adultery
or to political plot. No consensus has developed. Some reject the idea of any kind of conspiracy
and explain the adultery of Messalina by saying that her marriage with Claudius was unhappy,
that she was madly in love with Silius, that she needed sexual pleasure, or that she used her free
sexuality against the prince’s power.
In my opinion, this was an attempt to transfer the imperial power from Claudius to Silius
through the mediation of Messalina, as Tacitus himself affirmed, and the two conspirators
intended to physically eliminate Claudius.30 They hoped that celebrating a marriage between a
patrician and the Augusta might somehow legitimate this arbitrary power-​transfer, essentially a
“coup.” Messalina was necessary as a carrier of the charismatic blood of Augustus (through her
grandmother Antonia the Elder, daughter of Octavia). According to the plan of the conspirators,
Claudius would be removed by a noble who would marry his wife and then declare himself
willing to adopt Claudius’ son Britannicus (Tac. Ann. 11.26.2). Their marriage was presented
as legitimate; it was celebrated in front of witnesses and, as all valid marriages, it was meant to
be prolific (liberorum causa) and the wedding itself was witnessed by the people, by senators and
by soldiers, the fundamental sources of imperial legitimation. If Claudius did not react and did
not ask for his wife back, Silius tenet urbem (“would take over the power”) (Tac. Ann. 11.30).
With the creation of the domus Augusta, the female element became an integral and essential
factor in the legitimation of new imperial power: the figure of the wife of the princeps and her
physical and sentimental position were increasingly linked to the structure and the symbols of
the imperial power and played a very defined role in the subjects’ expectations, for example, in
the practices of their religion. A fundamental role was, in fact, played by the cult of the divae, the
Augustae dead and divinized, which allowed wealthy women to play a role in economical and
institutional life in the cities of the Roman empire.
The conspirators were sentenced to death; Messalina faced Claudius accompanied by her
sons, but their pleas were useless. Tacitus (Ann. 11.37.2) asserted that Claudius, befuddled by
food, wine, and sex, could have forgiven Messalina, but that his freedman Narcissus commanded
soldiers to execute her, as if Claudius had given the order. We could wonder about the reasons
for Messalina’s second marriage: in my opinion this decision was due to the increasingly
commanding presence of Agrippina the Younger or, more specifically, because of the parties
who identified themselves with her or with Messalina. Scholars stress that from the begin-
ning of Claudius’ reign, Messalina took care to secure the succession to her son Britannicus.31

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Since at first Claudius seemed to consider Britannicus to be his heir,32 something must have
happened that led Messalina to consider that the position of her son was no longer secure. It is
also likely that Claudius himself started to see in Agrippina the Younger, rather than Messalina, a
possible tool to strengthen his relationship with his brother and his sister-​in-​law Agrippina the
Elder, who were supported by both troops and the people of Rome, the fundamental elements
in public displays of consent to a new prince. Tacitus himself (Ann. 11.37.2), while discussing
the people’s affection for the young Ahenobarbus rather than for Britannicus, talked about the
memory of Germanicus of which only that male descendant remained.
Tacitus’ narrative (Ann. 11.26) is enlightening concerning the difficulties of Messalina: Silius
pressed to take action and, obviously, to overthrow Claudius. Messalina procrastinated. Silius
said that mansuram eandam Messalinae potentiam, addita securitate (“Messalina would have been
always powerful, but in an even safer position”). If the position of Agrippina the Younger at
court was increasingly powerful, Messalina’s choice of a new husband fell on a figure whose
father had been condemned under Tiberius for having honored his friendship with Germanicus
and Agrippina the Elder. Messalina underestimated Claudius’ reaction and the conspiracy was
repressed.

Agrippina the Younger

After the death of Messalina, sources recount that each of three freedmen of Claudius proposed a
new wife for him (Tac. Ann. 12.1–​2). Narcissus proposed the wife of the previous emperor, Aelia
Paetina; Lollia Paulina, already the wife of Caligula, was supported by Callisto; and Agrippina
the Younger, the one who would actually succeed, was supported by Pallas. Pallas underlined
the doubly noble origins of Agrippina the Younger (Tac. Ann. 12.25): she belonged to the Julian
branch on her mother’s side (Agrippina the Elder, daughter of Julia, daughter of Augustus)
and to the Claudian branch on her father’s side (Germanicus, son of Drusus the Elder, son of
Tiberius Claudius Nero and Livia). Furthermore, Agrippina brought with her the grandson of
Germanicus, thereby allowing the reunification of the gens Iulia and of the gens Claudia, a fact
that could benefit the empire. In the event, thanks to his marriage to Agrippina the Younger,
Claudius controlled a woman of proven fertility and still able to produce children, a woman
who could otherwise have transferred the prestigious blood of the Caesars to another domus.
Assured of her marriage to Claudius (49 CE), Agrippina the Younger consolidated her pos-
ition at court and realized that it was necessary to wed Nero to Octavia, daughter of Claudius
and Messalina. Tacitus commented as follows: “Since from then on, the state was subverted,
and everything obeyed a woman who, however, did not play with the fate of Rome for dissol-
uteness, as Messalina instead did” (Ann. 12.7.3). Tacitus characterized the actions of Agrippina
the Younger, a prototype of the woman with mainly masculine traits, as suiting the austere and
fair-​minded behavior typical of ancient matronly virtues:

She behaved severely, as if she was a man; in public she was austere and increasingly
proud, at home she did not indulge in any dissoluteness, unless it was useful for her
power. She explained her wild desire for richness with the excuse of taking care of
the state resources.
(Tac. Ann. 12.7.3)

On February 25, 50 CE, Claudius adopted the son of Agrippina the Younger, Lucius
Domitius Ahenobarbus, who took the name of Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar, or also Nero
Claudius Caesar Drusus Germanicus.33 In this way, legally Nero became a member of Claudius’

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Julio-Claudian imperial women

family, including patrimonial rights. On this occasion, as wife of the emperor and as mother of
the adopted son of the emperor, Agrippina the Younger was granted the title of Augusta (Tac.
Ann. 12.26). In 53 CE Nero, whose rise to power occasioned the fall of Britannicus, married
Octavia, daughter of Claudius and Messalina. Claudius died on October 13, 54 CE.34 Ancient
and modern authors35 have speculated that Agrippina the Younger intentionally poisoned
Claudius with a plate of mushrooms, but, in my opinion, the attribution to Agrippina of the
responsibility for the death of Claudius is functional for the ancient authors, to characterize her
role at court even more negatively. Agrippina the Younger arranged Nero’s succession with the
praetorian prefect Sextus Afranius Burros (Tac. Ann. 12.68; Suet. Cl. 45.1). Nero was elected
emperor by the praetorians, the senate ratified this military decision, and the young man was
allocated full power. However, the good relationship between mother and son did not endure
and her influence on Nero came to an end. Agrippina the Younger urged that Nero and Octavia
have a child in order to address the problem of succession. Instead, Nero started a personally ful-
filling relationship with a concubine, the freedwoman Claudia Atte, who remained faithful until
his death. Nero might have considered marrying her and to this end, invented a royal ancestry
for Atte as the descendant of the Attalids, the ancient sovereigns of Pergamon (Tac. Ann. 13.12).
Agrippina, aware of the dynastic importance of Nero’s marriage to Octavia, opposed the
relationship with Atte (Tac. Ann. 13.12) and committed the error of supporting Britannicus.
Nero, tired of her oppressive protectiveness, began to isolate her: he sent Pallas away from court
and eliminated the support of men who had been faithful (an effort facilitated by her boasting
about her descent from Germanicus, a figure who has always been loved by both troops and
people). Britannicus died of poisoning in 55 CE (Tac. Ann. 13.16). Both ancient and modern
scholars agree that Britannicus was likely killed at the command of Nero.36 Britannicus’ rapid
and private burial increased suspicions; Nero likely wanted to avoid turning Britannicus’ funeral
into an occasion to show opposition to his power.
Tacitus seemed to dramatize the deaths by (assumed) poisoning of Claudius (by Agrippina
the Younger) and of Britannicus (by Nero), suggesting that the son exceeded his mother in
terms of atrocity. The end result could only be matricide (Tac. Ann. 13.16). From 55 CE to 59
CE, Agrippina the Younger was expelled from Rome by the will of Nero.37 However, in March
59 CE, he decided to have her killed. Why did Nero decide to commit such an extreme crime?
Suetonius (Nero 34) claims that he had already tried to poison her three times, but Agrippina
the Younger had been cleverer than he. According to Tacitus (Ann. 13.45), the final conflict
between mother and son was caused once again by a woman, Poppaea Sabina, wife of Salvius
Otho, the future emperor. Tacitus’ description of Poppaea Sabina corresponded to the usual
Roman political cliché: noble, beautiful, rich, but dishonest and immoral. Agrippina the Younger
feared the relationship between Nero and Poppaea and Poppaea herself realized that Agrippina
the Younger could represent an obstacle to her wedding plans with the emperor.
Tacitus (Ann. 14.2) even told of incest between mother and son, at the wish of one or the
other, prompted by the usual “thirst for power” (Tac. Ann. 14.2.2: spe dominationis).The freedman
Anicetus, commander of the fleet in Cape Miseno, organized a shipwreck, but Agrippina the
Younger managed to swim away (Tac. Ann. 14.3–​69; Suet. Nero 34). People showed her their
support and their joy at her narrow escape. Nero now sent Anicetus to kill her once and for all.
There are reports about the courage that Agrippina the Younger showed her assassins: ventrem
feri, strike my belly, she supposedly said to the man was about to stab her (Tac. Ann. 14.8) in
a narration with a “movie” sequence.38 It is clear that this lurid narrative was the rhetorical
expedient used by sources to condemn the atrocity of the matricide. The “monster” Agrippina
the Younger, the woman who went beyond the limits of the ideal femininity, gave birth to
the “monster” Nero who committed the most abominable murder, matricide, second only to

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Francesca Cenerini

patricide.Tacitus for the first time employed the adjective atrox (“fierce”) to describe a historical
woman, not a mythological queen.

Conclusions
Women who belonged to the Julio-​Claudian domus had only indirect influence on political
matters, and always through male mediation. Furthermore, their aims concerned the long-​
established roles for a woman inside any domus: those of a daughter, of a wife, and above all
of a mother. The words that Tacitus (Ann. 12.65) attributed to the freedman Narcissus were
emblematic: Agrippina the Younger was the cause of maius flagitium, “total disgrace;” she was
even harbinger of disasters and worse than the impudicitia of Valeria Messalina, also because as
a bad stepmother, she plotted to extinguish the direct ancestry of Claudius. The final image
provided no security: decus, pudorem, corpus, cuncta regno viliora habere, for Agrippina the Younger,
“absolute power was worth more than anything, honor and decorum, decency, her own body”
(Tac. Ann. 12.65.2). Tacitus’ portrait of Agrippina the Younger traced the motivation of her
actions to the sphere of passions, but at other times to more rational concerns. According to
Tacitus, Agrippina the Younger had a double personality. She was a woman behaving like a man
(virago), who therefore had a volatile and contradictory personality, exemplified by the famous
expression: Agrippina, quae filio dare imperium, tollerare imperante nequibat (Tac. Ann. 12.64.3), “she
wanted to grant power to her son, but she could not bear him at the power.” The analysis of
literary and documentary sources related to Agrippina the Younger does not allow us to know
the real story, but only to recognize the ways in which her image was manipulated.39
The deification of Augustus introduced a new element into the dynamic of the aristocratic
Roman marriage. In addition to the republican model, which was focused on the continu-
ation of the family heritage and on the alliances with important political factions, generated by
arranged marriages, now having the blood of Augustus, who was seen as a divinity, played an
essential role in the legitimation of the imperial power itself.40 Furthermore, the Augustae could
have an important and functional role with regard to the propaganda of the imperial regime,
as it was testified by the several portraits and inscriptions in their honor by all components of
Roman society and in all places of the empire: the presence of the Augustae, attested by the
media, could play a positive role for the welfare of the citizens of the empire.

Notes
1 Most recently, see Arena and Marcone 2018.
2 Arena and Marcone 2018: 90–​91.
3 Lamberti 2017.
4 Rohr Vio 2011: 77–​100.
5 There is a distinction in Ovid’s lexicon between the voluntary guilt (scelus) and the involuntary, how-
ever fatal, mistake (error): Salvo and Colpo 2018.
6 See Lazzeretti 2000.
7 Kienast, Eck, and Heil 2017: 76.
8 Et coniunx Germanici Agrippina fecunditate ac fama Liviam, uxorem Drusi, praecellebat: “and
Germanicus’ wife, Agrippina, exceeded Livia wife of Drusus as far as fecundity and good name were
concerned.”
9 Cenerini 2009a.
10 Cristofoli 2018: 3.
11 This term appears for the first time in an official paper in AD 19 on the public honors that were to be
granted to Germanicus, the so-​called Tabula Siariensis (EDCS, 4550003).
12 Shotter 2000.

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Julio-Claudian imperial women

13 Cenerini 2016a: 124–​30.

14 Cristofoli 2018: 88–​92.
15 Cristofoli 2018: 99.
16 CIL VI 886.
17 Raepsaet-​Charlier 1987: 402.
18 Cristofoli 2018: 107.
19 RIC I2, 33.
20 Herz 1981.
21 Cristofoli 2018: 119.
22 Hurlet 1997.
23 Cristofoli 2018: 161.
24 Kienast, Eck and Heil 2017: 60.
25 Kienast, Eck and Hail 2017: 62.
26 Cenerini 2009b: 51–​3.
27 Flory 1995.
28 Cenerini 2014.
29 See Cenerini 2010.
30 For a deeper analysis, please refer to Cenerini 2010.
31 Cogitore 2002.
32 Wood 1992.
33 Kienast, Eck and Heil 2017: 88.
34 Ibid.: 82.
35 Buongiorno 2017: 230–​2.
36 So Champlin 2005: 111.
37 We know nothing about her in this period: Eck 2002: 155.
38 Champlin 2005: 329.
39 Ginsburg 2005: 245.
40 Cenerini 2016b.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

EDCS 
Epigraphik-​Datenbank Clauss, M. et al. (eds). http://​db.edcs.eu/​epigr/​epi_​einzel.php?s_​sprache=
en&p_​belegstelle=CIL%2013,%2000456 (accessed June 30, 2020).

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H. Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum (ed.), Die Kaiserinnen Roms von Livia bis Theodora. Munich, 103–​63.
Flory, M.B. 1995. “The Deification of Roman Women.” The Ancient History Bulletin 9: 127–​34.
Ginsburg, J. 2005. Representing Agrippina: Constructions of Female Power in the Early Roman Empire. Oxford.
Herz, P. 1981. “Diva Drusilla. Aegyptisches und Römisches im Herrscherkult zur Zeit Caligulas.” Historia
30: 324–​36.
Hurlet, F. 1997. “La Domus Augusta et Claude à son avènement, la place du prince claudien dans l’image
urbaine et les strategies matrimoniales.” Revue des Études Anciennes 99: 535–​59.
Kienast, D., Eck, W., and Heil, M. 2017. Romische Kaisertabelle: Gründzuge einer römischen Kaiserchronologie.
Darmstadt.
Lamberti, F. 2017. “Convivenze e unioni di fatto nell’esperienza romana: l’esempio del concubinato.”
Revue Internationale des Droits de l’Antiquité 64: 5–​24.
Lazzeretti, A. 2000. “Riflessioni sull’opera autobiografica di Agrippina the Younger.” In Género, dominación y
conflicto: la mujer en el mundo antiguo, Studia Historica. Historia antigua 18. Salamanca, 177–​90.
Raepsaet-​Charlier, M.-​T. 1987. Prosopographie de femmes de l’ordre sénatorial (Ier-​IIe siècles), vols. I-​II. Leuven.
Rohr Vio, F. 2011. Contro il principe. Congiure e dissenso nella Roma di Augustus. Bologna.
Salvo, G. and Colpo, I. 2018. “Errore o colpa? Gli ‘indistinti confine’.” In F. Ghedini (ed.), Ovid, amori, miti
e alter storie. Napoli: 73–​9.
Shotter, D.C.A. 2000. “Agrippina the Elder: A Woman in a Man’s World.” Historia 49: 341–​57.
Wood, E. 1992. “Messalina, Wife of Claudius: Propaganda Successes and Failure of his Reign.” Journal of
Roman Archaeology 5: 219–​34.

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34
THE IMPERIAL WOMEN
FROM THE FLAVIANS
TO THE SEVERI
Kordula Schnegg

Introduction
This chapter looks at general issues concerning the place of women in the imperial milieu
from the period of the Flavians until the Severi.1 To that end, its focus is directed toward
social conditions and political networks; these indicate both the positions of women and their
relationships to men in this milieu. Based on individual cases, this article pursues the importance
of women as connecting links for political alliances (marriages), for dynastic hierarchies (the
role of sisters, mothers, and wives) and for the representation of rule. Completing the analysis
are considerations of possible autonomous political actions by individual female protagonists.
The following section analyzes how the conditions of rule functioned through power
relationships into which both men and women were integrated. These power relationships
were arranged, among other things, by social status, gender relationships, and gender hierarchies.
Employing such a perspective enables analysis of women in the imperial milieu not only as
instruments of male domination but also as participants who shared in power. They had high
social prestige and were of central importance for legitimizing the ruling order. Thus, the main
focus is on examining how family relationships and social and political networks were put
together to benefit the elite’s political ambitions.

Lucilla and Lucius Verus: a question of benefits

The Historia Augusta provides information about the bridal procession of the approximately
14-​year old Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla, who is about to be married to the considerably older
Lucius Verus in Ephesos.2 In the Life of Marcus Aurelius we read the following:

In the midst of this war he entrusted his daughter, who was about to be married and
had already received her dowry, to the care of his sister, and, accompanying them him-
self as far as Brundisium, sent them to Verus together with the latterʼs uncle, Civica.
Immediately thereafter he returned to Rome […].
(SHA Aurel. 9.4–​5)3

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And we learn from the Life of Lucius Verus:

Finally, however, at the insistence of his staff he set out for the Euphrates, but soon, in
order to receive his wife Lucilla, who had been sent thither by her father Marcus, he
returned to Ephesus, going there chiefly in order that Marcus might not come to Syria
with her and discover his evil deeds.
(SHA Verus 7.7)4

The marriage was preceded by a three-​year engagement, which was celebrated in 161
CE,5 immediately following Marcus Aurelius’ elevation to Augustus and the appointment of
his adopted brother Lucius Verus as co-​emperor.6 The 11-​year-​old Lucilla, the eldest living
daughter of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor, was engaged to Lucius Verus in order to
strengthen the alliance between the emperors.7 The bond was preceded by the political calcu-
lation of securing the position of the bride’s father as well as her future husband. After all, the
bridegroom was no stranger to the bride. He had lived in Marcus Aurelius’ family surroundings
as an adopted brother and to a certain extent had taken on the role of Lucilla’s uncle. When
Lucius Verus married her, he was 31 years old. Lucilla and Lucius Verus’ wedding did not take
place in Rome. This is because Lucius Verus was sojourning at the time in Antiocheia (Syria), at
the front in the war against Parthia. Lucilla was therefore sent to him.The bridal couple were to
meet in Ephesos and hold the wedding there. The young girl had to embark on a long journey.
She did this without much family support because her mother had just given birth to twins and
was recuperating in Rome.8 Lucillaʼs father accompanied her as far as Brundisium; from there
Lucilla proceeded by ship with her entourage to Ephesos.
Looking at the conditions of rule at the time of the Antonines, a question arises as to how
this matrimonial arrangement between Lucilla and Lucius Verus benefited the persons involved.
According to the Historia Augusta, the engagement was one of several favors Marcus Aurelius
did for Lucius Verus.9 Lucius Verus was first elevated to the position of co-​emperor and there-
after he received the name Verus, which was a way of admitting him genealogically into Marcus
Aurelius’ family.10 The engagement and the subsequent marriage positioned Lucius Verus, now
son-​in-​law, in Marcus Aurelius’ core family.
The political and family relationships generated between Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus,
however, were not at all egalitarian. They were arranged hierarchically, with Marcus Aurelius in
a dominant position. Marcus Aurelius gained a co-​emperor who was obliged to him through
family ties of loyalty and who was of use especially in military matters. Lucius Verus was a
competent army officer, who could be deployed in crisis regions. For Marcus Aurelius this last
point was important, because he probably did not see himself as a man of war. Thus Cassius
Dio summed up Lucius Verus as “a vigorous man of younger years and better suited for military
enterprises” who could be sent into the war against Parthia.11
Finally, the marriage opened up the possibility of an additional natural heir to the throne,
one with high social prestige at that.12 Such an advantage was certainly important since child
mortality in the imperial family was very high. Indeed, Marcus Aurelius and his wife had to
bury many of their children.13 Marcus Aurelius recorded in his Meditations that one’s own chil-
dren not only served to stabilize the rule but also to guarantee the continuation of one’s own
family.14
The marriage conferred benefits on Lucius Verus as well. He could stake out his own field
of action in the East of the empire, far from Rome and from emperor Marcus Aurelius. His
marriage to Lucilla made him a close family relation of the emperor and offered him max-
imum security as co-​emperor. Indeed, in terms of power relationships during Marcus Aurelius’

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lifetime, Lucius Verus could not have obtained more. As regards the emotional bonds between
the couple, the sources leave no clues.They do make clear, however, that Lucius Verus continued
to maintain an intimate relationship with his mistress Panthea probably until his death.15 But
this need not mean that as a social and political alliance the marriage did not function. After all,
Lucius Verus died at the age of 39, in CE 169, so the marriage lasted only a few years, and there-
fore the possibilities for analyzing the relationship between the spouses are limited.
Lucilla’s role as a link between Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus was important. As the
daughter of the Roman emperor, she held a top social position, which was then further elevated
by the marriage.16 She herself was soon bestowed the honorary title Augusta—​a special tribute,
as explained below (see p. 415).17 The marriage stabilized Lucilla’s top position in the imperial
family, especially after she bore legitimate offspring. Lucilla as well as Lucius Verus functioned as
essential pillars of a ruling strategy which served the political positioning of the higher-​ranking
Augustus and the continuation of Marcus Aurelius’ lineage. However, Lucilla and Lucius Verus
were probably aware of their functions, their positions, and thereby the limitations on their
actions. Both appear to have been loyal to Marcus Aurelius, for the primary sources do not
suggest anything to the contrary.
That Marcus Aurelius made marital alliances with the goal of further securing his rule is
also evident in Lucilla’s second marriage. Marcus Aurelius chose Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus,
a competent army officer who was also a loyal subordinate, as the husband for the too soon
widowed Lucilla. This arrangement was extremely useful to Marcus Aurelius. The marital
alliance is said to have been concluded without the consent of either Marcus Aurelius’ wife or
his daughter; it seems that Lucilla married Pompeianus against her will and remained his wife
for the rest of her life.18

Succession and a lack of sons

The example of Lucilla’s marriage provides insight into a specific case and yet also points more
generally to aspects of the exercise of power, of legitimacy, and of stabilization of rule as they
were accounted for during the period between the Flavians and the Severi. Altogether the
phase of the principate is distinguished by attempts to establish an inheritance, even though
there was no institutional anchoring in the res publica for this purpose, and to put order into
the dynastic hierarchical structure, although male heirs were few and far between. Augustus had
already addressed these challenges. He did not have a natural son. But, through adoption of sons
and through marriage alliances, for which he used female relatives, he was able to stabilize the
imperial family for several generations.19 Both strategies were pursued also in the time from the
Flavians to the Severi, used as required.
During Flavian rule (69 to 96 CE), a mere two generations, succession was “natural” and
passed from the father, Vespasian, to his two sons, Titus and Domitian.20 Titus’ daughter, Julia,
died early, without descendants, in her uncle Domitian’s reign.21 With the death of Domitian,
who left no natural son behind, the rule of the Flavian lineage ended. Following his assassination
and damnatio memoriae, new political arrangements had to be forged.
The period from Nerva to Antonine Pius (96 to 161) is marked by the political program of
appointing the best man (optimus) to become the succeeding princeps. To this end, adoption by
the incumbent princeps served to bring the successor into a family relationship. Nevertheless, for
this phase of the principate too, the endeavor to establish the rule dynastically via natural children
is visible, as it was for the Julio-​Claudians.Yet it is to be emphasized that precisely the principes
from 96 to 192 suffered from a dearth of natural sons who could have succeeded as rulers. Only
with Commodus (appointed princeps in 182) did a natural son once again succeed his father as

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ruler. Female heirs were therefore key in making sure that one’s own family was the starting
point of the dynastic order. They were deployed deliberately in order to regulate and legitimize
the ruling succession. This occurred in various ways, as the following illustrates.

Marriage policy and dynastic order

The strategy of binding persons to the emperor via marriages to further secure the rule can
clearly be seen in the connection between Lucilla and Lucius Verus. This form of political
alliance was characteristic of the Nerva-​Antonine period. Two additional cases exemplify it.
According to the sources, emperor Trajan was happily married to Pompeia Plotina. They had
no children, however. Nevertheless,Trajan was able to regulate the succession within the Ulpian
family, because his sister, Ulpia Marciana, had a daughter and granddaughters who could be
employed for political marriages. Thus Trajan’s great-​niece Vibia Sabina was engaged to his
chosen successor Hadrian, whom she later married. What tied this successor even more firmly
to the Ulpian family was that Hadrian himself was distantly related to Trajan, had been raised
under Trajanʼs guardianship, and had an obviously close relationship to Pompeia Plotina. The
sources relate that Pompeia Plotina supervised Hadrian’s education and that she had a hand in
organizing his adoption by Trajan and also his wedding to Vibia Sabina.22
Trajan’s second great-​niece, Mindia Matidia, assumed an important role as well. Although she
had no children, she was affluent and acted as a rich aunt, for example, for Faustina Minor (the
daughter of Antoninus Pius). The marriage between Hadrian and Vibia Sabina, which in the
ancient sources is described as unhappy, remained childless.23 In contrast to Trajan, Hadrian did
not set store by the progeny of his sister Domitia Paulina. Instead, he took care early on to find a
successor via adoption. For his part, Antoninus Pius, Hadrian’s successor, employed his daughter
Faustina Minor in order to tie his adopted son, Marcus Aurelius, even more closely to his family.
The importance of Faustina Minor for the succession may be recognized by the fact that her
engagement to Lucius Verus (made during Hadrian’s lifetime, around 168) was broken off by
Antoninus Pius in order to marry her to Marcus Aurelius, his preferred successor.24 Faustina
Minor was about 15 years old when she married Marcus Aurelius. She bore her husband and
the imperial family more than ten children, but few of them survived.
Antonius Pius placed enormous importance on Faustina Minor’s first child, as the fact
that, after she had given birth, Faustina Minor was awarded the honorary title “Augusta,”
demonstrates.25 This female child was of political importance, even though she could not take
up the position of a princeps. After all, daughters could be employed for political alliances in
case sons were lacking. Antonius Pius pursued this strategy himself. Of his four children, two
of whom were sons, only Faustina Minor reached adulthood. The fact that Faustina’s eleva-
tion to Augusta happened at a moment when her husband still held the position of a Caesar
(an emperor-​in-​waiting) is remarkable in the light of power politics. Faustina Minor’s many
pregnancies led to her fecundity being emphasized on coins.26 Eventually, a natural son of an
emperor, Commodus son of Marcus Aurelius, survived and could be trained as successor, which
must have satisfied the emperor. Of course the imperial house could not have foreseen that
Commodus’ reign would mark the end of the Antonines.
The close web of relationships within an imperial family is remarkable in the case of Faustina
Minor. Several aspects of these relationships are worthy of further discussion. Faustina Minor
was the daughter of Antoninus Pius and Faustina Major. She was the adoptive sister of Marcus
Aurelius and Lucius Verus. All three grew up in the household of Antoninus Pius. Faustina
Minor was originally engaged to Lucius Verus, but she eventually married Marcus Aurelius, to
whom she bore, above all, Lucilla, who was married off to Lucius Verus. Faustina Minor, the

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adoptive sister and once a fiancée of Lucius Verus, would eventually become his mother-​in-​law.
What is not handed down from the sources is how each individual coped with these changing
relationships.

Imperial women’s honors as part of political communication

Imperial women could be given various honors, for example, being awarded the title “Augusta,”
being deified, or having cities named after them.27 In each case the women were honored in a
special way: as members of the imperial family. These honors shone a light on the individuals
as well as simultaneously increasing the prestige of the imperial family. They were also used for
political benefit.
Between 69 and 193, numerous women in the close imperial milieu were bestowed the hon-
orary title “Augusta,” which required a senatus consultum. In this way, a practice was established to
bestow the title during one’s lifetime.28 It was given to wives or daughters, for example, when
their husbands or fathers were named emperor (e.g., Faustina Major, Iulia Titi).29 The senate
bestowed it on daughters, wives, or mothers-​in-​law after a wedding (e.g., Salonia Matidia,Vibia
Sabina, Lucilla) or after the birth of a child (e.g., Faustina Minor). Pompeia Plotina and her
sister-​in-​law Ulpiana Marciana were given the title Augusta at the same time that Trajan received
the title pater patriae. The title Augusta was bestowed not only on wives, but also on sisters such
as Ulpiana Marciana and probably also Domitilla Minor, on daughters such as Faustina Minor
or Lucilla, and on mothers-​in-​law such as Salonia Matidia. Flavia Domitilla, the mother of
Titus and Domitian, was titled Augusta upon her death; this occurred during Titus’ rule. During
Domitian’s rule, Domitilla, by contrast, was deified. In this way not only was honor bestowed
to the deceased, but the honor directly reflected on the ruler Domitian, since he was now the
child of a deified mother. Thus, the deceased Domitilla served to represent and legitimize the
ruling order. The honorary title Augusta was directly connected to the esteem that the Senate
accorded the princeps. Should a princeps be subject to a damnatio memoriae, the honorary title was
revoked, which is what happened to Domitia Longina, Domitian’s wife. To be clear: the title
Augusta did not indicate a political office nor was there any political authority connected to it.
Rather, the title generated an association with Augustus, the first princeps of the res publica, and
his wife Livia, who received the title in his will.30 This title and its bestowal thus served to legit-
imize the ruling order.
Another honorary title for imperial women was added during the era of Marcus Aurelius’
rule: namely, the title mater castrorum (“Mother of the Camp”).This honor is attested for the first
time for Faustina Minor; the army proclaimed it.31 It therefore denoted a special connection
of wife of the emperor with the army, which was subordinate to the emperor. In fact, Faustina
Minor accompanied her husband on his campaigns and her presence was, at least occasionally,
perceptible to the soldiers. Earlier wives had traveled with their husbands on campaign: Pompeia
Plotina (wife of Trajan), Vibia Sabina (wife of Hadrian), and Lucilla (wife of Lucius Verus). Yet
these women received no honorary title. The title mater castrorum was awarded selectively. The
emperors named are mainly the militarily active emperors of the end of the second century
and of the third century who took advantage of the special significance of the title. Septimius
Severus, for instance, let his wife, Julia Domna, receive the title (195/​196); the soldier emperors
also resorted to this honorary title for female members of their family.32
A further honor for women of the imperial dynasty was their divinization after death.
For this, too, a senatus consultum as well as a public act of consecration, the consecratio, were
required. By the time of the Julio-​Claudian dynasty, a public cult was established along with
the divinization.33 During the Flavian dynasty, Flavia Domitilla and Julia, Titus’ daughter, were

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divinized.34 During the Nerva-​Antonine dynasty, Ulpia Marciana, Pompeia Plotina, Salonia
Matidia,Vibia Sabina, Faustina Major, and Faustina Minor were all divinized.35
In addition, representation of imperial rule now took on a female dimension. From the
Nerva-​Antonine dynasty on, women of the imperial dynasty served as leading figures for polit-
ical programs and thus became part of the dynastic and imperial publicity, as it were. The ruling
order’s representation no longer concentrated only on the emperor: his wife and family were
also important. The political programs of the coinage illustrate this new dimension particularly
well. Trajan, for example, for the representation of his rule, had recourse to his wife and sister,
because the image of the entire imperial family could be projected through these two women:36
his wife symbolized modesty and his sister represented fertility.37 The fertility of Faustina Minor
was rendered in coinage in a similar fashion.38
Yet another phenomenon during this principate is noteworthy. According to the political
program, the emperor’s wife was increasingly tied to her function as child-​bearer and mother.
For example, the Augustae were more and more identified with fertility goddesses or else had
alimentary charities named after them.39 These incarnations of femininity are parts of a polit-
ical communication which not only addressed the family’s continuation and the dynasty’s sta-
bilization, but also related to the growth of the empire’s population, something for which the
emperor and his wife bore a shared responsibility.40
The naming of a city after a woman probably also belonged to the types of honors bestowed
on women in the imperial milieu. This was already the case during the Julio-​Claudian dynasty.
Emperor Claudius named the Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippensium after his wife. Trajan had a
city founded in Numidia named after his sister, namely Colonia Marciana Traiana Thamugadi.41
Later, two cities in Danubia were named after women who were key for the ruling order’s
program: Plotinopolis and Marcianopolis.42 And when Faustina Minor died during the cam-
paign in Syria in 175–​176, Marcus Aurelius renamed a village in Kappadokia in his wife’s honor,
namely Faustinopolis.43

Autonomous actions and political networks

Occasionally, ancient sources discuss women in the imperial milieu who acted autonomously in
the political field. Domitia Longina, Emperor Domitian’s wife, is an example. Domitia Longina
came from a politically influential family. Her father was the successful general and senator Cn.
Domitius Corbulo.44 Her first marriage was to an equally successful politician, L. Aelius Lamia
Plautius (consul suffect in the year 80). The marriage apparently happened prior to 69 and the
couple had a daughter, Plautila.45
Shortly thereafter Domitian seems to have become aware of Domitia Longina. Cassius Dio
reports that Domitian “removed” Domitia Longina “from her husband and made her one of his
own mistresses.”46 Her divorce from L. Aelius Lamia Plautius was brought about to open the
way for Domitian to marry her. Later on, Domitian had Lamia executed. Suetonius insinuates
that Domitian could no longer bear Lamia’s mocking of Domitian for robbing him of his wife.47
The actual relationship between Domitia Longina and Domitian is difficult to assess.
Indications regarding Domitia Longina are incorporated into a literary discourse that predom-
inantly characterizes Domitian negatively (e.g. as sexually excessive and addicted to domination
and control) and insinuates that he was heavily dependent on Domitia Longina.48 In the context
of these records, Domitia Longina’s own views and agency regarding certain acts (for instance,
her divorce from Lamia—​who never remarried—​or her marriage to Domitian) remain unclear.
That she bore the princeps children, all of whom died young, does not answer the question
of whether it was a consensual marriage; it merely points to the fulfillment of her duties as

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wife. Both Domitian and Domitia Longina had extramarital affairs, according to Suetonius and
Cassius Dio.49 Domitian, upon finding out about Domitia Longina’s sexual contact with an
actor, for example, is said to have repudiated her at first, only to take her back into his household
shortly thereafter.50 According to the ancient sources, he did this out of love. Recent studies
suggest, however, that it was out of political calculation.
Whether Domitia Longina participated in the murder of Domitian is uncertain. According
to Cassius Dio, she had good reasons to do it.51 She herself had survived Domitian’s proscription
and assassination.52 After Domitian’s damnatio memoriae, she simply had to relinquish the hon-
orary title “Augusta,” which she had received at the start of his reign in 81.53
Looked at from the perspective of Domitia Longina’s milieu, her possible involvement in
her spouse’s assassination can (also) be interpreted as being politically motivated, not simply
inspired by personal feelings. She came from an influential senatorial family, and her first
husband was a senator.54 Her father Corbulo, who enjoyed much popularity in the army,
died ingloriously during Nero’s rule. He fell from Nero’s graces and was driven to suicide.
The sources do not clarify whether Nero feared Corbulo’s power or whether he could prove
that Corbulo was directly involved in the Pisonian conspiracy. In any case, Corbulo’s family
became suspect. Domitian selected Domitia Longina as his wife despite the rumors about
her family.55 We must correlate Domitia Longina’s career with the fact that it was precisely
during Domitian’s rule that the senatorial aristocracy became ever more powerful in their
opposition to the emperor’s policies. By virtue of the family of her birth and of her first
marriage, she was part of the political milieu of this senate aristocracy.56 Domitian’s revoca-
tion of her repudiation may signify that Domitian could simply not afford politically to cast
out Domitia Longina, esteemed as she was by the senate and the plebs urbana.57 Domitiaʼs
prestige survived the murder and the damnatio memoriae of Domitian, as coinage and portraits
illustrate.58
Autonomous action by an imperial woman did not necessarily mean acting against the
ruler’s and/​or husband’s policies, as the next example illustrates. Pompeia Plotina, Emperor
Trajan’s wife, clearly came from an influential and affluent family.59 “She was rich, educated
and had extensive family and friends’ connections as well […].”60 She was already married to
Trajan when he was adopted by Nerva in CE 97. The literary sources paint a picture in which
Plotina decisively contributed to Hadrian becoming Trajan’s successor, although they also dis-
cuss the controversy about whether there was an adoption and whether Plotina had pursued
it.61 Furthermore, it is reported that Plotina had advocated for the marriage between Hadrian
and Vibia Sabina.62
Trajan’s guardianship of his distant relative Hadrian led, at any rate, to a close relation-
ship between Hadrian and Plotina, which continued even after her husband’s death.63 Plotina’s
continued presence in the imperial household after Trajan’s death indicates her ties not only to
Hadrian but also to Vibia Sabina (Hadrian’s wife and Trajan’s great-​niece) and Salonia Matidia
(Hadrian’s mother-​in-​law and Trajan’s niece). Perhaps the closeness in this family implies less
about the emotional bonds among the protagonists than about their political networks, which,
after all, were shaped actively by women. From the beginning of her husband’s reign, Plotina
had to share the public role and the social prestige with her sister-​in-​law Ulpia Marciana, as
well as with the latter’s daughters and granddaughters.64 If anything at all is written about the
relationship among the imperial women around Trajan then what is emphasized is the con-
cord among these women.65 Seen from the literary tradition, another specific feature stands
out: Pompeia Plotina was presented more often and also more actively than Ulpiana Marciana.
However, in the representation of Trajan’s rule, both women assume a central role, each with
clearly defined competencies.66

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Concern for a secure future for themselves and for their family may have also induced
Faustina Minor as well as Lucilla to enter into a connection with the successful army officer
Avidius Cassius, in two phases.67 The first phase relates to Lucilla’s second marriage. According
to the Historia Augusta, Avidius Cassius was a favorite of Lucilla and Faustina Minor.68 This
successful army officer and deputy commander for Lucius Verus in the Parthian war, who was
loyally devoted to Marcus Aurelius and who came from a respectable family, however, did not
win the race to marry Lucilla. Marcus Aurelius chose Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus as his
daughter’s husband.
Six years later, according to the sources, Faustina Minor herself took up direct contact with
Avidius Cassius.69 According to Cassius Dio, when Marcus Aurelius became seriously ill and had
hardly any hope of surviving, Faustina Minor offered Avidius Cassius the position of emperor
(after Marcus Aurelius’ death) and that of her spouse. Faustina Minor was clearly concerned
about Marcus Aurelius’ successor. Again according to Cassius Dio, her son, Commodus, appeared
too “young” and too “limited” to be emperor and she did not wish to contemplate retiring to a
private life.70 Although on the one hand the historical record paints a negative image of Faustina
Minor and blames her for “hoodwinking” the skillful and so far loyal Avidius Cassius so that
he would revolt against Marcus Aurelius, it, on the other hand, attributes to her (unintention-
ally) the capacity of reflecting on the political and social repercussions caused by her husband’s
death. The shift toward Avidius Cassius should thereby be judged as Faustina Minor’s strategic
calculation.
Finally, it should be recalled that some imperial women were quite affluent. Mindia Matidia,
Trajan’s second great-​niece, for example, acted as a rich aunt to Marcus Aurelius’ children.71
Faustina Major, too, Antoninus Pius’ wife, was considered very wealthy as the owner of landed
property and brickworks. Whether these women could freely dispose of their finances or not is
a matter of scholarly debate.72

Conclusions: imperial women and patriarchal power

The principate was a ruling structure with patriarchal features. The patriarchal organization
of the citizens’ community, which was noticeable during the Roman republic, lived on in the
principate. At its pinnacle stood a chosen man. He was the princeps and the optimus of the elite
and therefore entitled to stand at the top of the res publica. As in the time of the republic, when
the nobility tried to advance their own familia and gens into the future, so too was this practice
continued during the imperial era, except that now their endeavors had repercussions for the
entire Roman empire.
Women played an important role in the dynastic bonds during the era of the Ulpian and
Antonine dynasties.73 This central importance of women for the rule’s legitimacy may firstly
be explained by the political dictum that the best (optimus) had to stand at the pinnacle of
the res publica. Secondly, there was a lack of male heirs. Marriage alliances became important
as a result. For the connection of the chosen successor to the incumbent emperor’s family to
work, successors were adopted and taken into the imperial family. A traditional Roman prac-
tice employed adoptions to secure the continuation of the ruler’s own family. Patriarchally
structured power placed women, as well as men who did not act as dominus and pater familias,
in a subordinate position. Nevertheless, occasional female protagonists between 69 and 193
were politically engaged, whether they were involved in actions for or against the emperor or
whether they dealt with future scenarios strategically. Despite the poor availability of ancient
sources, we can see women in the imperial milieu acting and participating in power politics.

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Notes
1 I thank Laurie Cohen for her help in translating the text into English.
2 Lucilla received her name from her paternal grandmother; see Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 239.
3 “medio belli tempore et Civicam, patruum Veri, et filiam suam nupturam commissam sorori suae
eandemque locupletatam Brundisium usque deduxit, ad eum misit Romamque statim rediit […].” See
Levick 2014: 70–​1.
4 “ad Euphratem tamen impulsum comtium suorum sequendo profectus est. Ephesum etiam rediit, ut
Lucillam uxorem, missam a patre Marco, susciperet, et idcirco maxime ne Marcus cumea in Syriam
veniret ac flagitia eius adnosceret. nam senatui Marcus dixerat se filiam in Syriam deducturum.” See
also SHA Verus 2.4.
5 All dates in this chapter are CE.
6 SHA Aurel. 7.5–​6: “Post excessum divi Pii a senatu coactus regimen publicum capere fratrem sibi
participem in imperio designavit, quem Lucium Aurelium Verum Commodum appellavit Caesaremque
atque Augustum dixit […].” Further on, we read that this was the first time that the Roman Empire
had two Augusti.
7 Cass. Dio 71.12.3; SHA Aurel. 7.5–​6; Hdn. 1.8.3.
8 Levick 2014: 76–​7.
9 SHA Aurel. 7.7: “[…] he also betrothed him to his daughter Lucilla, though legally he was his
brother […].”
10 Lucius Verusʼ birth name was Lucius Ceionius Commodus. After his fatherʼs adoption by Hadrian
(136), his name was Lucius Aelius Commodus. After his adoption by Antoninus Pius in 138, he was
named Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus.
11 Cass. Dio 71.12.3.
12 Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 240.
13 Temporini-Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 236–​9.
14 Marcus Aurelius points to a corresponding epitaph, which bemoans the “last man of his lineage”
(Med. 8.37).
15 See Demandt 2018: 154–​6; Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 242. Lucian makes Panthea the main
protagonist in his opus Imagines. He celebrates her as lovely, virtuous, wise, and benevolent and describes
her as the companion of the emperor (Im. 10–​11). Marcus Aurelius discusses how Panthea sits by Lucius
Verus’ coffin (Med. 8.37).
16 The number of portraits and coinage in honor of Lucilla demonstrate her exceptional position after
her marriage to Lucius Verus. Even after the deaths of Lucius Verus and Marcus Aurelius she retained
her imperial privileges (e.g., title Augusta) until her execution. See Varner 2001: 73.
17 Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 241.
18 SHA Aurel. 20.6–​7; Hdn. 1.8.3–​8. According to SHA Comm. 4.1–​4; Cass. Dio 72.4.4; Hdn. 1.8.6–​4,
Lucilla took part in a failed conspiracy against her brother and emperor Commodus. As a consequence
of the failed plot she was condemned and executed.
19 Colbier 1995.
20 According to Suetonius (Vesp. 25),Vespasian told the senate that only his two sons could succeed him.
21 Suetonius (Dom. 22.3) indicates that Domitian had had a relationship with Julia and compelled her
to have an abortion, which led to her death. The trustworthiness of this account should be critically
scrutinized, since this story about Julia’s death is used to exemplify Domitian’s immoral lifestyle. Julia’s
death was also recorded in Mart. 6.3.13, 9.1.
22 Cass. Dio 69.1.2–​4; SHA Hadr. 2.10; 4.1–​5.10. Cf. Brennan 2018: 51–​4.
23 In SHA Hadr. 11.3 and 15.2, relationships with the praefectus praetorii C. Septicius Clarus and with the
writer C. Suetonius Tranquillus are alluded to. See Brennan 2018: 82–​8. But the sources also point to
intimate relationships between Hadrian and Antinous (Cass. Dio 69.11.2; SHA Hadr.), see Brennan
2018: 54–​8, 115–​24. 14.5. Julia Balbilla, a Roman poet, praised the beauty of Sabina during her stay
with Hadrian in Egypt. About this she inscribed four epigrams on the statue of Memnon near Thebes;
see Plant 2004: 151–​3; Brennan 2018: 127–​37.
24 Barnes 1967: 77–​8 interprets Faustina’s engagement to Lucius Verus, which Hadrian had ordered in
connection with the adoptions of Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, and Lucius Verus, as evidence
that Hadrian preferred Lucius Verus as his successor over Marcus Aurelius. If the decision to designate
Marcus Aurelius as successor originated from Antoninus Pius, then the family relationship of Faustina
Maior, that is Antoninus Pius’ wife and Marcus Aurelius’ aunt, might offer an explanation. The classical

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Kordula Schnegg

sources offer another explanation. In SHA Aurel. 6.2–​3 und SHA Verus 2.3–​4 we learn that Lucius
Verus was too young to marry his coeval Faustina.
25 SHA Aurel. 6.6. See Levick 2014: 63.
26 Ameling 1992. Kolb 2010: 14–​55; That was a special privilege she had received immediately after the
birth of a son.
27 Coinage, portraits, foundations offered further possibilities for honoring imperial women.
28 Kuhoff 1993; Strothmann 2002: 908; Kolb 2010: 14–​55; Brennan 2018: 6–​8.
29 For Iulia Augusta, see RIC II nos. 54–​8 and Kuhoff 1993: 246.
30 For the main significance of the title “Augustus” and its sacred and political nature, see Temporini
1978: 42–​3, Kuhoff 1993; Strothmann 2002.
31 Cass. Dio 71.10.5; SHA Aurel. 26.8. See Levick 2014: 78–​9.
32 Strothmann 2002.
33 Verifiable for the first time for Drusilla, who is reported after her death in 38 as diva Drusilla. See
Edelmann-​Singer 2016: 390.
34 Castritius 2002: 177.
35 Varner 2001: 43; Temporini-​ Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 200, 209–​ 12, 224, 230–​ 1, 252. Cf. Levick
2014: 119–​37; Brennan 2018: 175–​93.
36 The first surviving coins which depict Plotina are dated 112; see Wegner 1956: 74–​6.
37 Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 197–​8.
38 Ameling 1992; Levick 2014: 110–​12.
39 Temporini 1978: 71–​5.
40 Temporini 1978: 76–​7.
41 Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 194.
42 Temporini-Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 196.
43 SHA Aurel. 26.4–​9.
44 Cass. Dio 62.19.2. The political importance of the family is evident from the fact that Corbulo’s half-​
sister, Milonia Caesonia, was married to Caligula. See Suet. Calig. 25; Cass. Dio 59.23.7–​8; 59.28.7.This
marriage draws attention to the exclusive circle that, during the early empire, participated in political
power and developed close ties to the emperor through family relationships.
45 Her son, Lucius Ceionius Commodus, would later be adopted by Emperor Hadrian, but Commodus
died before Hadrian.
46 Cass. Dio 65.3.4; cf. Suet. Dom. 1.3.
47 Suet. Dom. 10.2; cf. Juv. 4.154.
48 Cf. Suet. Dom. 2.3, 3.1, 22.1; Cass. Dio 67.3.1–​2.
49 In Suet. Titus 10.2, Domitia Longina had to defend herself from accusations of having had a relation-
ship with her brother-​in-​law Titus.
50 Suet. Dom. 3.1.
51 Cass. Dio 67.15.2 cites that Domitia Longina “stood in terror of her life.” See also Suet. Dom. 14.1.
52 Until 126/​127 bricks were burned with her name: CIL XV 548–​58. See Bodel 1983: 37. In CE 140
freed slaves erected a temple in her honor in Gabii (CIL XIV 2795). See also Balsdon 1962: 132;
Castritius 2002: 186.
53 According to Suet. Dom. 3.1, Domitia Longina received the title Augusta from Domitian after the birth
of her first child.
54 Varner 1995: 187–​8.
55 As a member of a noble family Domitia can be seen as important link between the equestrian Flavians
and the Roman nobility: see Varner 1995: 188; Castritius 1969: 494–​5.
56 Varner 1995: 187–​8; Castritius 2002: 182. For critical reflections on literary sources which portray
imperial women negatively because of their “tyrannical” husbands, see Hemelrijk 2004: 116.
57 Cass. Dio 67.3.2. According to Suet. Dom. 3.1, the political dimension of the revocation was intended
to save Domitian’s face in public, but in reality he missed his wife a great deal; critical of this is
Castritius 1969: 497; 2002: 182–​4.
58 See Varner 1995 for detailed analysis.
59 Only vague inferences may be drawn regarding her precise family structures, her place of birth, and her
life prior to Trajan becoming emperor, because the availability of sources is inadequate. See Temporini
1978: 18–​22.
60 Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 189. See also Hemelrijk 2004: 116–​18.
61 Cass. Dio 69.1.2–​4; SHA Hadr. 4.10.

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Imperial women from Flavians to Severi

62 SHA Hadr. 2.10. Balsdon 1962: 139; Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 195.
63 For example, in Plotina’s letter to Hadrian (ILS 7784), she acts like a patronus for the Athenian
EpICUReans; see Hemelrijk 2004: 117. For her divinization and the erecting of a temple in Nîmes
(her native city?) in her honor under the rule of Hadrian, see Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 212.
64 Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 198–​9.
65 Plin. Pan. 84.1–​8. According to Pliny, the women supported Trajanʼs politics with their actions.
66 Temporini 1978; Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 192–​4, 198–​201.
67 C. Avidius Cassius came from Cyrrhus in Syria. He was of a respected family, see Cass. Dio 69.3.5; SHA
Aurel. 25.12; SHA Avid. Cass. 1.1–​3.8.
68 SHA Aurel. 20.6.
69 Cass. Dio 72.22.3. Cf. Levick 2014: 83–​7.
70 Cass. Dio 72.22.3–​23.1; Hdn. 1.6.4–​7; SHA Avid. Cass. 7.1–​2.
71 Cf. Bruun 2010: 228–​33.
72 Kunst 2013 and 2010: 153–​6 asserts the financial independence of imperial women, while Boatwright
1991 considers that the imperial women of the period of Trajan and Hadrian were especially restricted.
73 Cf. Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 232.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
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Papyrologie und Epigraphik 90: 147–​66.
Balsdon, J.P.V.D. 1962. Roman Women: Their History and Habits. London.
Barnes, D.T. 1967. “Hadrian and Lucius Verus.” Journal of Roman Studies 57: 65–​79.
Boatwright, M.T. 1991. “The Imperial Women of the Early Second Century A.C.” The American Journal of
Philology 112, 4: 513–​40.
Bodel, J.P. 1983. Roman Brick Stamps in the Kelsey Museum. The University of Michigan, Kelsey Museum
of Archaeology, Studies 6. Ann Arbor.
Brennan, T.C. 2018. Sabina Augusta: An Imperial Journey. Oxford and New York.
Bruun, C. 2010. “Matidia die Jüngere –​Gesellschaftlicher Einfluss und dynastische Rolle.” In A. Kolb (ed.),
Augustae. Machtbewußte Frauen am römischen Kaiserhof. Herrschaftsstruktur und Herrschaftspraxis II, Akten der
Tagung in Zürich 18.–​20.09.2008. Berlin, 211–​33.
Cary, E. (Trans.) 1961. Dioʼs Roman History, vol.VIII. London and Cambridge, MA.
Castritius, H. 1969. “Zu den Frauen der Flavier.” Historia 18, 4: 492–​502.
Castritius H. 2002. “Die flavische Familie: Frauen neben Vespasian,Titus und Domitian.” In H.Temporini-​
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Corbier, M. 1995. “Male Power and Legitimacy through Women: The Domus Augusta under the Julio-​
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Demandt, A. 2018. Mark Aurel. Der Kaiser und seine Welt. Munich.
Edelmann-​Singer, B. 2016.“Die Kaiserpriesterinnen in den östlichen Provinzen des Reiches –​Reflexionen
über Titel, Funktion und Rolle.” In A. Kolb and M.Vitale (eds.), Kaiserkult in den Provinzen des Römischen
Reiches: Organisation, Kommunikation und Repräsentation. Göttingen, 387–​405.
Hemelrijk, E.A. 2004. Matrona Docta: Educated Women in the Roman Élite from Cornelia to Julia Domna.
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Kolb, A. 2010. “Augustae –​Zielsetzung, Definition, prosopographischer Überblick.” In A. Kolb (ed.),
Augustae. Machtbewußte Frauen am römischen Kaiserhof. Herrschaftsstruktur und Herrschaftspraxis II, Akten der
Tagung in Zürich 18.-​20.09.2008. Berlin, 11–​35.
Kuhoff, W. 1993. “Zur Titulatur der römischen Kaiserinnen während der Prinzipatszeit” Klio 75: 244–​56.
Kunst, C. 2010. “Patronage/​Matronage der Augustae.” In A. Kolb (ed.), Augustae. Machtbewußte Frauen am
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Magie, D. (Trans.) 1967. The Scriptores Historiae Augustae (3 vols), vol. I. London and Cambridge, MA.
Plant, I.M. (ed.) 2004. Women Writers of Ancient Greece and Rome: An Anthology. London.
Strothmann, M. 2002. “Augusta.” Der Neue Pauly 12, 2: 908–​9.
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Varner, E.R. 2001. “Portraits, Plots, and Politics: ʻDamnatio Memoriaeʼ and the Images of Imperial
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35
PORTRAITURE OF FLAVIAN
IMPERIAL WOMEN
Annetta Alexandridis

The women of the Flavian dynasty (69–​96 CE) have been portrayed in multiple ways and
media. Similar to many other female relatives of Roman emperors, they appear in ancient “his-
torical” texts and in modern scholarship, in poetry and in honorific inscriptions, in miniature
images stamped on coins, or carved in precious stone, and in (more than) life-​size likenesses
sculpted in the round.1 Depending on who created them, when, where, how, why, and for
whom, these portrayals shaped ideas about which roles a woman of the imperial family (domus
Augusta) could or should assume and which not. Closeness to power and public promin-
ence of women always meant a provocation, for Roman patriarchal society in general, and
for the Roman principate in particular, especially in its early years.2 As a system of govern-
ment that (to some) looked like a monarchy yet was not supposed to be one, the republic
“restored” under Augustus (res publica restituta) could not, unlike Hellenistic kingdoms, tolerate
a male–​female couple at the top.3 The respective women’s public prominence would have to
be cast as an extension of their private or domestic functions.4 Accordingly, various honorific
titles, privileges, and priestly functions were introduced for the first emperor’s wife, Livia, to
define and legitimate her role.5 Visual representations of the emperor’s female relatives—​an
exceptional honor rarely granted to women during the republic—​proved to be critical to
meet the initial challenge. The imagery developed under the Julio-​Claudians set the stage
and remained a benchmark for all future domus Augustae.6 The Flavian dynasty’s follow-​up
offers insights into how the gradual institutionalization of the principate played out in its
self-​representation. Upon seizing power, after all, the Flavians were facing a situation some-
what comparable to that Augustus had encountered: after a civil war, an old order had to be
restored and also reinvented. How did that impact the role and image of the imperial family’s
female members? This chapter focuses on four overlapping aspects of the women’s private
and simultaneously public roles: family or dynasty, exemplary womanhood, beauty or luxury,
and divinity. Predominantly based on coinage and honorific names or “titles”—​evidence that
comes closest to how the imperial house wanted to be perceived—​it charts how imagery in
different media shaped these ideas. Focus will be mostly on the imperial center’s strategies
rather than their reception in the provinces.7 A short methodological introduction explains
potential pitfalls in interpreting the evidence.

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Annetta Alexandridis

Female portraits for “monarchs”—​evidence and methods

Ancient rulers made conscious use of imagery to communicate, promote, and simultaneously
legitimate their power. It remains, however, difficult to determine how much impact such
“propaganda” had in a specific context, or who exactly was responsible for conceiving, designing,
and implementing it.8 Not every decision was established in a top-​down manner from the
imperial court to be imitated by its subjects. In using coins issued for empresses, for example,
dedicating statues to them, or putting up likenesses in less conspicuous materials, various people
participated in disseminating the women’s portraits and in establishing their presence. The pro-
cess might have been stimulated by the center, but was not necessarily managed by it. Also,
different media of representation did not only target different audiences; they involved different
agents since they resulted from different mechanisms of production.9 This does not diminish the
level of thought and investment the imperial center would have put into promoting its image.
The Flavians are a striking case. They shaped their official lineage by means of releasing or
suppressing portraits. Only three of the rulers’ close female relatives were considered relevant
enough to have their likenesses officially disseminated. The imperial mint in Rome circulated
images of the following women: Flavia Domitilla, whether Vespasian’s wife (the elder) is
intended or his daughter (the younger), neither of whom lived to see the emperor assume power
(Figures 35.1, 35.2; figures for this chapter appear at the end of the chapter); Titus’ daughter
Flavia Julia (or Julia Titi, also Iulia), who was born while her father was still heir apparent to the
throne, and died under her uncle’s reign (Figures 35.3–​5, 35.8); and Domitian’s wife Domitia
Longina, who would survive her husband (Figures 35.6–​8).10 Numismatic evidence allows
for further specification.11 Under Vespasian (69–​79 CE), no female relative at all appeared on
coins.12 Sesterces issued under Titus commemorated the emperor’s mother, not with a portrait
but with the depiction of a funerary cart.13 Julia Titi’s likeness appeared on several coin types.
Under Domitian, profiles of his wife and his niece were circulated. In addition, a posthumous,
first portrait type was developed for Flavia Domitilla, the emperor’s mother or sister.14
This narrow selection, in tandem with the rather sparse record from other media—​at least
when compared to the Julio-​Claudian evidence—​has until recently led scholars to under-
estimate the ideological (and real life) importance of the Flavian dynasty’s female members.15
Vespasian’s refusal to have any of them officially portrayed seemed to support reports of his
wife’s humble and thus unworthy origins.16 In any case,Vespasian’s decision reduced the period
during which distribution of the Flavian women’s portraits was encouraged to about 27 years.
Evidence is further impaired by the fact that none of the Flavian imperial women’s offspring
lived long enough or remained adequately connected to higher circles of power to warrant con-
tinuous commemoration of their female imperial ancestors and maintenance of their effigies.17
The example of Domitia Longina seems a striking, if at first an unlikely, case in point. Born to a
family of excellent pedigree—​her father was the eminent politician and military leader Cnaeus
Domitius Corbulo; her mother Cassia Longina was related to the Cassii—​Domitia could claim
to be a scion of emperor Augustus. Her ancestry, in combination with her substantial (family)
wealth, made her a perfect bride for an emperor to be.18 The couple had a son who, however,
died in childhood. Unlike so many other imperial consorts, Domitia survived her husband and
his damnatio memoriae for a long time.19 Though she did so in peace, in material prosperity, and
well respected, this was likely due more to her older family connections and wealth than to her
relation to the emperor. At Gabii, in 140, two of her freedpeople erected a temple in her honor
and memory and that of her domus; the local assembly decreed a celebration of her birthday
each year, and statues were dedicated.20 Even though the inscription does not specify, we can
posit that a likeness of Domitia would have been part of the ensemble of statues. Her parents,

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Portraiture of Flavian imperial women

for whom heroic honors are attested elsewhere, were probably depicted too, rather than her
condemned husband.21
Some of the gaps in our evidence, however, might originate precisely in the enormous effort
that was put into the Flavian women’s official imagery. Inconsistent facial features displayed by
Julia Titi and Domitia on coins challenge traditional methods of portrait identification. But
they could easily result from confusion in the die-​cutters’ workshop. This is suggested by the
minting of coins for Domitia immediately after her husband took office, and later by simultan-
eous emissions for both women.22

Portraits and dynasty: between family resemblance and

Julio-​Claudian model
The gens Flavia had what seems a particularly close-​knit “family identity.” Not only did cousins
intermarry (a fairly widespread habit among larger gentes), but a restricted number of cognomina
(Vespasianus, Domitianus, Domitilla) was transmitted with the nomen gentile (Flavius, Flavia) over
generations. At the same time, connections to the Julio-​Claudians were sought on various levels,
as for example through Domitia’s lineage. Recently, the tempting suggestion has been made
that Titus’ daughter Julia was named after the first empress Livia (also known as Julia Augusta,
after her adoption into her husband’s gens of the Iulii). 23 Once she had been declared Augusta,
Flavia Julia’s name was indistinguishable from that of Augustus’ wife. Julia, in this context, would
also refer to Venus, the first imperial family’s divine ancestor and, as mother of Aeneas, of all
Romans.24
Portraits of the Flavian women display a similar mixture of “family-​features” and continu-
ation of Julio-​Claudian traditions, their coiffures combining older and novel styles. Busts of
Flavia Domitilla show her with a long, looped plait at her neck made up of multiple braids.The
front and temples are covered by several rows of big, snail-​shaped curls (see Figures 35.1b, 35.2).
Structurally, the hairdo is close to that of Nero’s mother Agrippina Minor.25
Julia Titi’s hair in some of her first (coin) portrait types clearly breaks away from this
fashion: the small and dense curls on the forehead form a bushy coronet, whereas the braids at
the back, instead of hanging down, are either coiled up into a snail-​like bun or gathered into
a tuft (see Figure 35.5).26 On some coins Julia displays a tight bun closer to the neck and rem-
iniscent of Livia’s hairdo (see Figure 35.4a).27 Domitia’s coiffures, if sporting a somewhat more
extravagant coronet of curls, also follow two basic patterns, one with a long plait, the other with
a bun (see Figures 35.6a and 35.7a).28 Family resemblance might have been suggested when
busts of father and daughter or husband and wife were paired on the two sides of a coin, as
attested for all three women in a series issued by Domitian (see Figure 35.1).29
Finally, statue groups showcased the whole gens Flavia, women included.30 At times, their
dedicators added them to pre-​existing Julio-​Claudian ensembles. At the sanctuary of Olympia,
for example, the temple of Meter had been transformed into a site for the imperial cult. Next
to statues of Augustus, Claudius, and Agrippina Minor stood other effigies of Julio-​Claudians.
Some of them were modified to represent members of the Flavian family, among them two
women.31 The statue types emulate classical styles and were popular with imperial and non-​
imperial sitters alike in the first century CE.They showed the women in richly folded garments
that cling to the body so as to emphasize its female forms. Additional attributes have not
survived, but could here have included a libation bowl (patera) to match the religious context.32
Both in its composition and in the individual statue types, this group continued Julio-​Claudian
traditions and expanded them to incorporate members of the Flavian gens. Other dedications
in the Greek East focus on imperial couples in different constellations. This might be rooted in

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Annetta Alexandridis

local predilection for ruling couples in Hellenistic tradition, yet a double dedication for Julia
and Domitia is also attested.33

Portraits and exemplary womanhood

Traditional female “functions” such as wedlock and motherhood constituted a central aspect of
imperial women’s official representation, in both visual and verbal form. Honorific “titles” (or
names) such as Augusta helped conceptualize the idea of a dynasty and the women’s role in it.
Under the Julio-​Claudians, the title of Augusta had been awarded retrospectively to mothers
or grandmothers of emperors.34 Nero was the first to bestow it precociously upon his wife
Poppaea Sabina and their baby daughter. The Flavians seem to have systematized this trad-
ition: all of an emperor’s close female relatives who effectively or potentially guaranteed dyn-
astic continuity received the title. According to the numismatic evidence, Julia Titi was declared
Augusta once her father had become emperor.35 The honoree would at this point have been the
only living descendant of an emperor and expected to secure succession. Domitia was declared
Augusta as soon as her husband seized power.Their little son had already died but Domitia could
still have been expected to bear an heir.
Coins provided an effective means to communicate the domestic and simultaneously
public relevance—​literally the two sides—​of exemplary female lives and tasks. While the
obverse featured the profile bust of an individual woman, personifications or symbols on the
back emphasized a specific female sphere or quality, additionally designated in the legend.36
Coinage issued under Titus for his daughter in various denominations is the first system-
atically to exploit the medium’s compactness and consequently pair the woman’s bust on
the obverse with different reverse types. During his short reign, a set of female virtues was
composed for Titus’ daughter that would provide a template for many Augustae to come.37
The goddesses and personifications depicted here—​Ceres, Concordia, Pax, Salus, Venus,
and Vesta—​could all be related to ideal female virtues such as fertility (fecunditas), chastity
(castitas), beauty (pulchritudo) and harmony (concordia) (see Figures 35.3b and 35.4b).The add-
ition AVGVSTA, AVGVSTI, or AVGVSTAE in the reverse legends tied them directly to the
emperor, imperial women, and the imperial house.38 Many of the goddesses had important
cults in Rome, which expanded their relevance to society at large. Seen together, then, all
these figures propagated (with varying emphasis) matrimony, fertility, or the blessings of
marriage and household when harmonious and well taken care of. The figure of Vesta, seated
with patera and scepter, connected this message to the political realm: guarding the imperial
hearth and house secured the stability of the state.39 Venus—​shown with helmet and scepter
as Victrix—​referred to the progenitor of the first imperial family (and by extension of their
successors) and of the Roman people (see Figure 35.3b). None of the types were new, but
the fact that they did not include “male” symbols underscores the desire to compose a fitting
design.40
Obverse and reverse could additionally be linked by specific iconographic details. Several of
the busts, for example, feature the Flavian women wearing a stola. What looks like a necklace
of pearls, actually depicts the straps of this garment that marked the freeborn Roman married
woman (matrona) (see Figure 35.1b). Highly ideologically charged, especially under Augustus, it
signified not only a woman’s civic status, but her proper behavior including matrimonial virtues
such as chastity and modesty (castitas, pudicitia). In the second half of the first century CE the
stola successively disappeared from public representation, both in imperial and non-​imperial
portraiture.41 On the Flavian women’s coins, it must have seemed a deliberately conservative

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Portraiture of Flavian imperial women

element that evoked both republican tradition and Julio-​Claudian attire. Julia wears it on
obverses that are paired with a Ceres-​or a Vesta-​reverse (see Figure 35.4a). Reverses depicting
Venus are combined with obverses on which the Augusta sports a diadem, an attribute with
originally divine associations, but which also seems to denote the Augusta, at least in coinage
(see Figure 35.3a).42
Domitian’s emissions for his wife followed a different strategy in that they focused almost
entirely on pietas. As duty or loyalty toward the gods (erga deos) and the family (erga parentes),
pietas encompassed in both cases aspects of public and private or domestic life. Images con-
sequently render the personification in two different ways, either standing veiled in front of
an altar while pouring a libation, or sitting, with a scepter in her arm, one hand stretched
out to one or more children.43 The legend, spreading over both sides of the coins, reads
DOMITIA AVGVSTA/​DIVI CAES(AR[IS]) MATER (“Domitia Augusta/​mother of the
deified Caesar”). This way it collapses a traditional iconography into a depiction (labeled as
that) of the empress (see Figure 35.6). 44 The anonymous child consequently “is” her deceased
and deified son. A separate emission pairs the bust of Domitia on the obverse with the deified
(baby-​)boy on the reverse, sitting on a globe and surrounded by stars.45 The “shades” of div-
inity conveyed by the specific combination of legend and images encompass Domitia herself
to varying degrees.46
Wreaths and infulae (knotted woolen ribbons) also visualized pietas. Deities and priest(esse)s
alike were depicted wearing these attributes, which could therefore denote both the executor
and the receiver of a pious act.47 The wreath of wheat, rendered on a marble portrait of Flavia
Domitilla, could thus also refer to Ceres, patron goddess of fertile crops and of marriage, and
in this way celebrate the sitter’s female virtues while simultaneously conveying a touch of div-
inity.48 The wreath also recalled portraits of the first dynasty’s women.49 Alignment with Julio-​
Claudian models is even better manifested in a cameo now in Stuttgart. Originally depicting
a woman of the Claudian family, it was slightly re-​carved to portray Domitia.50 The laurel
wreath crowning the woman’s head and the infula holding it together remained unaltered.
While women in the procession on Augustus’ Ara Pacis wear such wreaths, the laurel also
connoted spheres that were gendered male, such as the celebration of a triumph, the god Apollo,
or the emperor Augustus who had made it his “signature plant.” For the Julio-​Claudians this
iconography of pietas might have been connected to a particular form of religious service: the
cult of the deified emperor. Livia and Antonia Minor were made the first and only priestesses
of this cult.51 Flavian women and their successors, in contrast, rarely display wreaths or infulae, if
at all. This might be another effect of the gradual institutionalization of the principate and the
women’s role within it. No priesthood had to be invented to justify their closeness to divinity. In
the end, the imperial women’s own deification—​prepared so strongly under Domitian—​would
become the norm in the second century CE.52

Portraits and pomp

A common allegation ancient authors raised against women in general, and female members
of the imperial house in particular, was their love of excessive luxury. Even though beautifi-
cation of the female body was key for displaying status and dignity, imperial women almost
never appear with jewelry in official imagery.53 Their coin portraits are especially striking in
this respect when contrasted with those of Hellenistic queens or portraits in other media.54
Kleopatra is shown on coins wearing a necklace and earrings, but so are Julia Titi or Domitia on
gem stones or cameos.55 In the case of the Flavian women, luxury is not only conveyed by the

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Annetta Alexandridis

iconography. Crafted exquisitely of precious material, these images targeted a more exclusive
audience.56 The majority of portraits in marble, in contrast, seem to have followed the “offi-
cial” standard, although we might miss additions in paint or other materials. Flavia Domitilla’s
colossal portrait now in Copenhagen, for example, and a bust of Julia Titi have their earlobes
pierced, undoubtedly for the insertion of earrings (see Figures 35.2 and 35.5).
And yet, portraits of the Flavian women did not renounce luxury entirely. Their coiffures
with their sumptuous coronets of curls conveyed a sense of expenditure, both for the real-​life
model and its effigy. Hairdos of the Julio-​Claudian women, although giving an impression
of restraint and austerity, would already have required a lot of time and skilled labor to be
arranged. For Neronian and subsequently Flavian coiffures, locks had to be piled up in front
while tightly braiding and bundling up the hair in the back. This style showcased extrava-
gance and virtuoso craftsmanship, both of the hairdresser and of the sculptor.57 Compared to
how non-​imperial women were represented, however, the Flavian Augustae did not particu-
larly stand out.58 If anything, they would have looked rather old-​fashioned, for instance, when
shown wearing the stola.

Portraits and divinity

By consecrating his son, niece, and either mother or sister, Domitian systematically tried to
build a divine lineage for himself and the gens Flavia.59 Apart from launching a posthumous,
first portrait type for the new Diva Domitilla, long after her death (see Figures 35.1b and 35.2),
new iconographies were developed for theomorphic representations of the imperial family.60
As discussed earlier, the power of Hellenistic royal women had constituted a provocation in the
beginning stages of the principate, as did another characteristic feature of Hellenistic kingship,
the rulers’ assimilation to deities.61 Initially banned from official self-​representation, portrayals
in divine guise of the emperor and his relatives did however circulate in other, more exclusive
media, such as cameos.62 Caligula reintroduced Hellenistic tradition in official imagery, which
from there found its way into the self-​fashioning of the lower strata of society.63 Especially
popular in funerary art, theomorphic likenesses deployed a metaphorical language to praise their
sitters. When the Flavians came to power, portraits in divine guise were no longer restricted to
the imperial family. Visual language developed under Domitian seems to have reacted with a
more immediate, less metaphorical way to depict divinity. Coinage, as discussed, could suggest
an assimilation of the person on the obverse to the goddess or personification on the reverse.
The latter, because of their repetitiveness and formulaic nature, ultimately remained abstract.
They symbolized female virtues, but they did not embody them. The emissions issued for
Domitia as mother of the deified Caesar, or those for the deified child himself, instead made
divinity “real.” Text and image worked in tandem: Pietas is not the pietas of the Augusta, or
the Augusta as Pietas—​she simply is the Augusta. Similarly, Domitia’s deified son is not simply
designated as divus (deified), but depicted as a god: a giant baby, sitting on a globe among the
stars (see Figures 35.6 and 35.7).
A similar, if more complex strategy is deployed by the poet Martial when, in one of his
epigrams, he praises a statue of the deified Julia in the guise of Venus.64 As the poet’s descrip-
tion follows the figure’s posture, it collapses the Augusta’s beautiful and sensuous body with
that of the goddess and simultaneously its masterful, “life-​like” effigy.65 The text suggests that
erotic aspects were prevalent—​Julia/​Venus loosens her breast band—​although we cannot tell
how much of the body was exposed. Given the manifold connections of Julia to Venus and

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Portraiture of Flavian imperial women

to the Iulii, as we have seen, it is likely that a statue of the Augusta in the guise of the goddess
existed. Women of the Julio-​Claudian family had often been aligned with, if not assimilated
to Venus Genetrix, progenitor of the Romans. All of these depictions, however, showed them
fully dressed, accompanied by an Eros figure and/​or scepter, and only occasionally exposing the
collarbone. 66
Two replicas of a female marble bust that have been identified as probable portraits of
Julia in the guise of Venus break away from this pattern.67 Their wavy hair, loosely bundled
up on top of their heads, is inspired by depictions of the goddess after having taken a bath.
The Copenhagen bust, once part of a statue, also indicates that the woman’s upper right chest
was nude. The replica in the Vatican has the hair arranged slightly differently. In the back of
the head, it forms a loose bun that is reminiscent of Julia Titi’s coiffure. Real model, artifice,
and goddess seem to merge again. Statues and poem do not allow for reconstructing a statue
of Julia in the nude, but they share a similar aesthetic. Collapsing mimetic and metaphorical
representation, simultaneously displaying highest artifice and corporeal immediacy, they made
the divine palpable.68
The most extraordinary honor bestowed on imperial women, finally, was their deification
proper.69 A small chalcedony group in the British Museum is the first to visualize this act (see
Figure 35.8). Its precious material suggests it would have been accessible only to a very select
group of people, if not individuals in the palace itself. It shows a female bust, with floating
mantle, on a peacock which is fanning its tail. Identification of the woman is debated. Given the
interchangeability of their coiffures and facial features, she could be Julia Titi or Domitia. In the
first case, we would look at a “legitimate” rendering of Titus’ daughter as Diva. Emissions issued
under Domitian explicitly refer to her consecration.70 In the second case, the bust would depict
an anticipated (and ultimately unjustified) deification, for Domitia survived her husband and
died when no longer a member of the imperial house.71 A cameo in the Ponsonby collection
with the laureate bust of Domitian and that of his wife (or Julia?) on a winged eagle could
support this interpretation. Moreover, the imperial consorts’ assimilation to Jupiter and Juno,
the Roman Pantheon’s two highest divinities, could have celebrated them as true gods. This
would find confirmation in Domitian’s alleged wish to be addressed as dominus et deus (rather
than divus) during his life.72

Conclusion
The women of the Flavian dynasty have been described as belonging to a “transitional period.”73
What is the case for their public role and dynastic situation, also applies to their visual represen-
tation. Evolving from complete absence under Vespasian, alignment with Julio-​ Claudian
traditions under Titus, and divinization under Domitian, these portraits established the presence
of women in how an imperial house wanted to be seen. The Flavians were the first systematic-
ally to develop a visual, dynastic program for their female relatives and to mint regular coinage
for them, always responding to Julio-​Claudian, but also to non-​imperial traditions of depicting
women as family members, as exemplary, beautiful, luxurious, and even divine. Under Domitian,
a posthumous portrait type was developed for Flavia Domitilla; theomorphic likenesses of Julia
Titi and Domitia followed a new, less metaphorical visual language. The presence of women in
the representation of rule and the rulers’ assimilation to deities once had conjured up the specter
of Hellenistic monarchy. They now seemed almost a requirement.

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Annetta Alexandridis

Illustrations

Figure 35.1 Aureus of Domitian, depicting Divus Vespasianus on the obverse (a) and Diva Flavia
Domitilla with stola on the reverse (b) (RIC II2 136)
Source: Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum

Figure 35.2 Colossal marble head of Flavia Domitilla with metal pins for diadem (?); the back of the
head was worked separately
Source: Courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (IN 3186), Copenhagen

430
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Portraiture of Flavian imperial women

Figure 35.3 Denarius of Titus with Julia Titi on the obverse and Venus with helmet and scepter on the
reverse (RIC II2 88)
Source: Courtesy of Harvard Art Museums (2005.115.118)

Figure 35.4 Dupondius of Titus with Julia Titi on the obverse (a) and Ceres with torch and ears of
wheat on the reverse (b) (RIC II2 391)
Source: Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum

431
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Annetta Alexandridis

Figure 35.5 Portrait of Julia Titi, head on modern bust, marble. Rome, Museo Nazionale delle Terme
Inv. 8638
Source: Courtesy of German Archaeological Institute Rome DAInst Neg. 57.619

Figure 35.6 Sestertius of Domitian, with Domitia on obverse (a) and Domitia seated with child as
mother of the divine Caesar on reverse (b) (RIC II2 132)
Source: Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum

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Portraiture of Flavian imperial women

Figure 35.7 Aureus of Domitian, with Domitia on obverse (a) and her son as Divus Caesar on reverse
(b) (RICII2 152)
Source: Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum

Figure 35.8 Cameo bust of Julia Titi/​Domitia (?) in apotheosis

Source: Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum (Inv. 1899.07–​22.4)

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Annetta Alexandridis

Notes
1 Overview (if in part outdated) in Daltrop et al. 1966: 115–​25, pls. 42–​59; Hausmann 1975.
2 The discursive strategies of how ancient literary texts responded to the situation—​predominantly
by marginalizing or condemning imperial women in an attempt to target the emperor—​have been
analyzed many times; for the Flavians see e.g. Vinson 1989; Hidalgo de la Vega 2003b; on the “social
power” of women see Temporini 1998; Späth 2010.
3 See ­chapters 6–​11, 15–​18, 26–​34 in this volume.
4 In general: Kampen 1991.
5 Frei-​Stolba 1998; 2008: 358–​78; see also chapters 32 and 33 in this volume.
6 See Alexandridis 2004.
7 For that see Hahn 1994: 228–​49; Alexandridis 2010: 219–​22; Boruch 2012: 211–​13, 226–​31.
8 In the desire to ascribe agency to the women, scholars often cast them as “sitters” who single-​handedly
decided how they wanted to be rendered in order to make a specific (fashion) statement: e.g. Castritius
2002: 177–​8; Fraser 2015: 223–​6. On “propaganda” see Weber 2003; Mayer 2010.
9 Alexandridis 2010 with further literature; on portraits see also Fejfer 2008: 407–​25; D’Ambra 2013.
10 FOS 357 or 368, 371, 327 respectively. On these women, see recently Castritius 2002; Cenerini
2009: 83–​94; Hidalgo de la Vega 2012: 81–​98; ­chapter 34 in this volume. No coin portraits were
issued for Vespasian’s granddaughter, also called Flavia Domitilla (FOS 369), whose two sons would
be adopted by Domitian as Vespasianus and Domitianus (both probably perished in the context of the
conspiracy against the emperor in 96 CE). Also excluded were Titus’ two consorts: Arrecina Tertulla
(FOS 93), most probably Julia’s mother, died before Titus assumed power; while still Caesar he also
divorced Marcia Furnilla (FOS 525). A statue of a woman in the guise of Venus now in Copenhagen,
Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek inv. 711, cannot be identified as Titus’ second wife; Barrow 2018: 110–​22,
fig. 15.
11 This is the merit of the revisions provided in RIC II2.
12 It does not follow that no dedications at all were made in their honor; see e.g. CIL VI 8.2: 40452
and AE 1994, 244 (both from Rome) in honor of Flavia Domitilla; Cogitore 2000: 250–​1; Rosso
2007: 131–​3.
13 RIC II2 262–​4.The reverse type refers to similar ones for Agrippina Maior issued under Caligula (RIC
I2 55), and for Agrippina Minor issued under Claudius (RIC I2 103).
14 Debate is still ongoing as to whether the coins refer to Vespasian’s wife or his daughter. While most
scholars seemed to have settled on an identification of the former (Kienast 1989; Frei-​Stolba 2008: 386–​
8; Wood 2010), recently the idea that Domitian deified his sister has gained renewed momentum, also
due to the revisions provided in RIC II2; see Rosso 2007: 143–​6; Morelli and Filippini 2014, with full
bibliography.
15 But see below and p. 428–9 on Domitia Longina who has received increased attention: Chausson 2003;
Levick 2002; 2003; Fraser 2015.
16 Castritius 2002: 170–​2; Cenerini 2009: 83–​6; Hidalgo de la Vega 2012: 86–​8.
17 Domitia herself had such connections, see Chausson 2003: 118–​29; Fraser 2015: 242–​4.
18 Chausson 2003 with further literature.
19 Ibid.; Fraser 2015.
20 Gabii: CIL XIV 2795 (= ILS 272). Pace Varner 1995 and Frazer 2015: 246–​54 it is so far impossible
to identify a portrait type created for Domitia after Flavian rule ended. Fittschen and Zanker 1983: 50
n. 3 is still valid.
21 ILS 9518 from Peltuinum.
22 Coins issued immediately after Domitian took power show Domitia resembling Julia Titi; later coins
of Diva Iulia assimilate her to Domitia; see RIC II2 132–​6, 147–​8, 678–​84, 760.
23 Gregori and Rosso 2010: 195–​6; see Castritius 2002: 184–​5 for a stemma. The suggestion could find
support in the reconstruction coins issued under Titus which include a type with Livia in the guise of
Salus: RIC II2 409. 430.
24 Gregori and Rosso 2010: 197–​201, who also point out that Titus had close personal connections to
the Julio-​Claudians. In addition, Julia’s birthday (September 26) falls on the day the inauguration of the
temple of Venus Iulia was celebrated.
25 See Alexandridis 2004: nos. 99, 102 , pl. 24 1.2.
26 While Roman women wore extensions of hair, even more extravagant coiffures could be created
without such artificial additions; Ziegler 2000; Bartman 2001; Stephens 2008.

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Portraiture of Flavian imperial women

27 Compare RIC II² 391 and 409, 430 (reconstructions); Wood 1999: 317–​8.
28 RIC II2 146–​8.
29 Ibid. But see Alexandridis 2010: 205–​6.
30 The Augusteum at Herculaneum featured, next to several statues of Julio-​ Claudians, dedicatory
inscriptions for Flavia Domitilla, Julia, and Domitia: CIL X 1419, 1422; Boschung 2002: 119–​25;
Gregori and Rosso 2010: 200–​2.
31 Their heads have not survived. Hitzl 1991; Boschung 2002: 100–​5, pls. 79–​81.
32 Hitzl 1991; Alexandridis 2004: 61–​3, cat. nos. 160, 161 pl. 29. 1.2.
33 Deppmeyer 2008: vol. 2: 9 (cat. no. 9, Brykos: Domitian and Domitia), 46 (cat. no. 14,
Thyssanous: Domitian and Domitia), 59 (cat. no. 19, Pinara: Julia Titi and Domitia), 63–​5 (cat. no. 22,
Stratonikeia: Titus, Domitia, and the donor); see also chapters 29 and 30 in this volume.
34 Flory 1988, who also thinks that it was initially bound to the office of priestess of the cult of the deified
emperor; Kuhoff 1993.
35 An inscription from the Augusteum at Herculaneum might date this moment a little earlier, for it names
Titus as Caesar. Gregori and Rosso 2010: 201, however, suspect this could have been an error of the
stone-​cutter.
36 See also Scheer 2006; Ercolani 2012.
37 Keltanen 2002; Alexandridis 2004: 18–​20; 2010; Scheer 2006.
38 The abbreviated AVG(VST) granted all the options.
39 According to Foubert 2015, however, there is no evidence for explicit cultic connections between Vesta
and the imperial women.
40 Scheer 2006: 300–​5; Alexandridis 2010: 201–​4.
41 Alexandridis 2004: 51–​5.
42 Alexandridis 2004: 49–​50.
43 RIC II2 132, 133, 135, 136; Alexandridis 2004: 74–​81. Women are rarely shown sacrificing, but see
Hemelrijk 2006.
44 RIC II² 156, which shows a seated woman with scepter and child, has the legend PIETAS AVGVSTA.
On the figure of the (imperial) mother: Morelli 2009; 2010; 2012.
45 Desnier 1979.
46 The titles were made up by Domitian; Rosso 2007: 127–​8.
47 The infula also adorned sacrificial victims.
48 San Antonio, former collection Denman: Alexandridis 2004: 173 cat. no. 146 pl. 31, 1.2. On
Ceres: Späth 2010; Erker 2006.
49 Alexandridis 2004: 77–​9, pls. 56–​57.
50 Alexandridis 2004: cat. no. 158, pl. 56, 6.
51 Hidalgo de le Vega 2003a; Hemelrijk 2006; Frei-​Stolba 2008.
52 Rosso 2007: 140–​6; Morelli and Filippini 2014.
53 Berg 2002; Alexandridis 2004: 71–​3.
54 RRC 543/​1; Alexandridis 2003.
55 Bartman 2001; Berg 2002; Alexandridis 2004: 174–​5, cat. no. 152, 153, pl. 57.8.
56 Megow 1997.
57 Bartman 2001.
58 Fejfer 2003; Alexandridis 2010: 206–​10; D’Ambra 2013.
59 Rosso 2007: 140–​7.
60 Portraits of colossal dimensions (e.g. Fig. 35.2) also visualized divinity; Ruck 2006: 216, 289, 290, cat.
nos. 41, 66.
61 See chapters 9 and 30 in this volume.
62 Megow 1997.
63 Wrede 1981; Matheson 1996.
64 Martial, Epigrams 6.13.
65 Alexandridis 2014: 84–​6 with further literature.
66 Alexandridis 2004: 84–​7.
67 Rosso 2007: 142–​3; Alexandridis 2004: 173 cat. nos. 147, 148, pl. 31, 3. 4; 2014: 71–​7, 84–​7; see also
D’Ambra 2000. It should be noted that there is no definitive proof for this identification.
68 Alexandridis 2014.
69 Flory 1995.

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70 RIC II2 717, 718.The reverses show a carpentum (funeral cart) drawn by mules or the Diva herself sitting
on such a cart drawn by elephants. The first representation of an imperial woman’s apotheosis, i.e.
ascending to heaven on a winged creature, is attested for Hadrian’s wife Sabina. Earlier examples exist
in the more panegyric and exclusive genre of cameos, including prematurely anticipated depictions of
Nero in apotheosis; Alexandridis 2004: 92–​5.
71 Julia Titi: Rosso 2007: 143; Julia Titi/​Domitia (?): Alexandridis 2004: 176, cat. no. 159, pl. 59.4;
2010: 212–​3.
72 Suet. Dom. 13.2; Cass. Dio 67.4.7.
73 Boatwright 1991: 537.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those found in
the Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

FOS Raepsaet-​Charlier, M. 1987. Prosopographie des femmes de l’ordre sénatorial (I°-​II° siècles). Louvain.

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Fejfer, J. 2003. “Images of the Roman Empress and Her Fellow Élite-​and Kinswomen.” In M. Büchsel and
P. Schmidt (eds.), Das Porträt vor der Erfindung des Porträts. Mainz, 77–​87.
Fejfer, J. 2008. Roman Portraits in Context. Berlin and New York.
Fittschen, K. and Zanker, P. 1983. Katalog der römischen Porträts in den Capitolinischen Museen und den anderen
kommunalen Sammlungen der Stadt Rom III. Kaiserinnen-​und Prinzessinnenbildnisse. Frauenporträts. Mainz.
Flory, M.B. 1988. “The Meaning of Augusta in the Julio-​Claudian Period.” American Journal of Ancient
History 13: 113–​38.
Flory, M.B. 1995. “The Deification of Roman Women.” Ancient History Bulletin 9, 3–​4: 127–​34.
Foubert, L. 2015. “Vesta and Julio-​Claudian Women in Imperial Propaganda.” Ancient Society 45: 187–​204.
Fraser, T.E. 2015. “Domitia Longina. An Underestimated Augusta (ca. 53–​ 126/​8).” Ancient Society
45: 205–​66.
Frei-​Stolba, R. 1998. “Recherches sur la position juridique de Livia, l’épouse d’Auguste.” Études de lettres
1: 65–​89.
Frei-​Stolba, R. 2008. “Livia et aliae: le culte des divi et leurs prêtresses; le culte des divae.” In F. Bertholet,
A. Bielman Sanchez, and R. Frei-​Stolba (eds.), Égypte –​Grèce –​Rome. Les différents visages des femmes
antiques. Bern, 345–​95.
Gregori, G.L. and Rosso, E. 2010. “Giulia Augusta, figlia di Tito, nipote di Domiziano.” In A. Kolb (ed.),
Augustae. Machtbewusste Frauen am römischen Kaiserhof? Herrschaftsstrukturen und Herrschaftspraxis. Zürich,
193–​210.
Hahn, U. 1994. Die Frauen des römischen Kaiserhauses und ihre Ehrungen im griechischen Osten anhand
epigraphischer und numismatischer Zeugnisse. Saarbrücken.
Hausmann, U. 1975. “Zu den Bildnissen der Domitia Longina und der Iulia Titi.” Mitteilungen des Deutschen
Archäologischen Instituts Rom 82: 315–​28.
Hemelrijk, E.A. 2006. “Imperial Priestesses, a Preliminary Survey.” In L. de Blois, P. Funke, and J. Hahn
(eds.), The Impact of Imperial Rome in Religions, Ritual and Religious Life in the Roman Empire. Leiden,
179–​93.
Hidalgo de la Vega, M.J. 2003a. “La importancia de las princesas imperiales em el culto imperial.”
Mediterraneo Antico 6, 1: 393–​407.
Hidalgo de la Vega, M.J. 2003b. “Esposas, hijas y madres imperiales: el poder de la legitimidad dinastica.”
Latomus 62: 47–​72.
Hidalgo de la Vega, M.J. 2012. Las emperatrices romanas. Sueños de púrpura y poder oculto. Salamanca.
Hitzl, K. 1991. Die kaiserzeitliche Statuenausstattung des Metroon. Berlin and New York.
Kampen, N.B. 1991. “Between Public and Private: Women as Historical Subjects in Roman Art.” In S.B.
Pomeroy (ed.), Women’s History and Ancient History. Chapel Hill, 218–​48.
Keltanen, M. 2002. “The Public Image of the Four Empresses: Ideal Wives, Mothers and Regents?” In P.
Setälä (ed.), Women,Wealth and Power in the Roman Empire. Rome, 105–​46.
Kienast, D. 1989. “Diva Domitilla.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 76: 141–​7.
Kuhoff, W. 1993. “Zur Titulatur der römischen Kaiserinnen während der Prinzipatszeit.” Klio 75: 244–​56.
Levick, B. 2002. “Corbulo’s Daughter.” Greece & Rome 49: 199–​211.
Levick, B. 2003. “Corbulo’s Daughter.” In P. Defosse (ed.), Hommages à Carl Deroux III. Histoire et épigraphie,
Droit. Brussels, 250–​70.
Matheson, S.B. 1996. “The Divine Claudia : Women as Goddesses in Roman Art.” In D.D.D. Kleiner and
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36
THE FAUSTINAS
Stefan Priwitzer

Introduction
Aelius Aristides characterized the reign of Antoninus Pius (138–​161 CE) as the heyday of peace
and prosperity,1 and Marcus Aurelius (161–​180 CE) is considered a philosopher king because
of his Meditations. With Marcus Aurelius’ reign ended, according to Cassius Dio, “a kingdom of
gold” (Cass. Dio 72.36.4 [Xiph.]).2 Edward Gibbon judged:

If a man were called to fix the period in the history of the world during which the
condition of the human race was most happy and prosperous, he would, without
hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of
Commodus.
(Gibbon 2005: 103)

Faustina Maior (the Elder), wife of the emperor Antoninus Pius, and her daughter Faustina
Minor (the Younger), married to the emperor Marcus Aurelius, lived during this peak of the
high empire. What do we know about these women?3 Those who are interested in women in
antiquity normally find themselves with little information. The sources are usually scant, even
for women of the upper classes and of the imperial family (domus Augusta). Information about
the Faustinas, however, is relatively abundant.4 This is especially surprising in the case of Faustina
Maior, as she died only two years after her husband’s accession to power. Consequently, Faustina
Maior has a modest presence in the literary tradition, but still appears in archaeological, epi-
graphic and, especially, numismatic artifacts, decades after her death. A large number of coins
and sculptures, and an increased interest by ancient authors reflect her daughter Faustina Minor’s
over 30 years of “service” to the dynasty as a daughter, wife, mother, and mother-​in-​law. Still,
the Faustinas were treated only as part of the historiography of the ruling men and integrated
into the representation of the emperor in the form of coins, buildings, portraits, and inscriptions.5

The family of Faustina Maior

Faustina Maior, exact name probably Annia Galeria Faustina and born at the end of the first
century CE, descended from the family of the Annii Veri on her father’s side.6 This family was

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originally from Baetica (southern Spain), as were Trajan (98–​117 CE) and Hadrian (117–​138
CE), the first non-​Italic emperors.
The mother of Faustina Maior, Rupilia Faustina, also bore two sons, as well as a daughter,
to her husband M. Annius Verus. Faustina Maior’s older brother married Domitia Lucilla; one
of the children of this marriage, Marcus Aurelius (a nephew of Faustina Maior) later became
emperor. The family of Antoninus Pius, husband of Faustina Maior and later emperor, came
from Nemausus (Nîmes) in the province of Gallia Narbonensis (southern France). The women
of the families involved brought considerable wealth, particularly from brick production, into
their marriages.7
This outline shows that the families of the two Faustinas and of the later emperors Antoninus
Pius and Marcus Aurelius combined economic and political power at a very high level.
Nevertheless, it was by no means foreseeable that Faustina Maior would someday become emp-
ress and mother of an empress.

The succession arrangements of Hadrian and the role of the Faustinas

In modern scholarship, the succession arrangements of Hadrian are interpreted very differently,
with some far-​reaching consequences for the understanding of the rule of the males involved.
All interpretations, however, assert that women played a central role.
In 136 CE the childless Hadrian adopted L. Ceionius Commodus, henceforth called L. Aelius
Caesar. Hadrian’s adopted son in turn had a biological son, subsequently emperor Lucius Verus,
and two biological daughters. Most scholars, however, believe that Hadrian had intended the
future emperor Marcus Aurelius as his successor and that L. Ceionius Commodus had been
elected only as a placeholder for the 15-​year-​old Marcus.8 Supporting this view of affairs is the
engagement of Marcus to Ceionia Fabia, the eldest daughter of L. Ceionius Commodus.9 Even
biological daughters could be used to secure the succession by marrying them off to the desired
candidate (who was often adopted as well). Julia, the daughter of Augustus, at the beginning of
the imperial era, is a prominent example of this approach.10
Whatever Hadrian’s earlier planning, it was thwarted by the death of Aelius Caesar at the
beginning of 138 CE. Hadrian then (on February 25) adopted Antoninus and made him his
chosen successor. Antoninus, on the orders of Hadrian, adopted his 16-​year-​old nephew Marcus
and 7-​year-​old Lucius, son of the deceased Aelius Caesar. By this time Antoninus had already
lost his two biological sons and, of his two daughters, only Faustina Minor was still alive. The
older adopted son, Marcus, now clearly was in pole position for the succession to the throne
after Antoninus.
This interpretation contradicts the assumption that in 136 CE and in 138 CE Hadrian
intended the Ceionii Commodi and thus Lucius, the son of Aelius Caesar, as successors.11
Following this theory, Faustina Minor plays a crucial role: in correlation with the adoptions in
138 CE Hadrian would have requested that Lucius should be engaged to the daughter of his
designated successor Antoninus, Faustina Minor.12
Apart from the role of Antoninus, whether the succession regulation of 138 CE was aimed
primarily at Marcus or at Lucius is debated. Most scholars choose a middle course as a solution:13
Lucius was initially engaged to Faustina Minor, at the request of Hadrian, but Antoninus Pius
broke this engagement after the death of Hadrian, and instead betrothed Marcus to his daughter,
thus thwarting Hadrian’s plans. The sources support this interpretation, but, surprisingly, assign
Faustina Maior a decisive role: she supposedly asked Marcus, on behalf of Antoninus Pius, if
he was ready to break the engagement with Ceionia Fabia and become engaged to Faustina
Minor.14 Why would Antoninus not have asked Marcus himself?15 Regardless of how these

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contradictions might be resolved,16 it has become clear which central legitimizing function has
been assigned to Ceionia Fabia and above all Faustina Minor by ancient and modern observers.
Possible family relationships are brought into play (with the women of the families again
central) to explain the fact that Hadrian reportedly found his desired successor in Marcus,
if only in the second generation.17 Since the participating families, not at least the women,
were active in tile production, some have attributed ownership changes in production facil-
ities to inheritance-​based family relationships.18 Ancient sources refer to these alleged family
relationships with only general, ambiguous phrases.19 The recognized importance of family
ties for imperial succession, even in the period of the “adoptive” emperors Trajan and Hadrian,
explains this sometimes desperate search for family connections.

Faustina Maior as empress and her early death

July 10, 138 CE was the day on which Antoninus Pius came to power. A short time afterwards
Faustina Maior was awarded the title Augusta.20 Since Trajan, the title Augusta (during the first
century CE not yet regularly awarded to women of domus Augusta), had gained more import-
ance. Apart from Trajan’s wife, Plotina, also his sister, Marciana, and after the death of the latter,
her daughter Matidia Maior, were given this title.21 In this way, Hadrian, through his wife
Sabina, a daughter of Matidia Maior, was connected with Trajan.22 The early awarding of the
Augusta title to Faustina Maior and certainly its subsequent awarding to Faustina Minor were
likely related to dynastic concerns.
The death of Faustina Maior in 140 CE did not change that.23 Faustina Maior was raised to diva
(“goddess”), and a temple at the Forum Romanum was consecrated to her.24 Never before had a diva
been worshiped alone (at least for almost 20 years until the death of Antoninus Pius) in the trad-
itional heart of the res publica.25 Antoninus permitted the presentation of pictures of diva Faustina
Maior on the occasion of circus games, which took place in front of several hundred thousand
spectators.26 Even long after her death, presumably until the year 161, coins for the diva Faustina
Maior were minted.27 Diva Faustina Maior Maior played a more prominent role in public than
any previous diva Augusta; some earlier Augustae were not so prominent even during their lifetimes.

The good marriage and the construction of a dynasty

Faustina Maior’s prominence is understandable considering a central theme of Antoninus Pius
and its dynastic implications: in the context of Roman society and especially within the domus
Augusta, Faustina Maior (and her daughter) symbolized the good and legally valid marriage
and the children born of such a connection. A decree of the Decurions of Ostia (CIL XIV
5326) invited all wedding couples to offer a sacrifice at a monument erected for this purpose. It
refers to the concordia (“harmony”) of the couple Antoninus Pius and Faustina Maior, although
the latter had already died. The Ostian decree accepts a Roman senatus consultum (“resolution of
the senate”), which was adopted after the death of Faustina Maior in autumn 140 CE, i.e. very
early in the reign of Antoninus Pius.28 A few decades later, a corresponding senatus consultum for
Rome is documented for Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor, again after the death of the wife.29
Presentation of the “exemplary” imperial marriage superseded actual chronology.30 The joint
apotheosis relief of Antoninus Pius and his wife Faustina Maior on the base of Antoninus Pius’
column, although created after his death and over 20 years after her death, still reflects this
central aspect of the reign of Antoninus Pius. A foundation for the support of girls (puellae
Faustinianae, “girls of Faustina”), set up in tradition of charitable donations (alimenta) and in
memory of diva Faustina Maior, references the children of such a marriage.31

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Antoninus Pius considered his “exemplary” marriage to Faustina Maior and the fruit of this
matrimony, his daughter Faustina Minor, important in the context of his dynastic politics, par-
ticularly the marriage between Faustina Minor and Marcus Aurelius. Aurei (gold coins), struck
on the occasion of the marriage, can be understood as a reflection of Antoninus Pius’ dynastic
politics (RIC III Antoninus Pius no. 434). It is worth comparing the position of the spouses
on these coins with those depicting a sacrificial bridal couple in front of the altar of Antoninus
Pius and Faustina Maior (RIC III Antoninus Pius no. 601): the woman, Faustina Minor, not the
man, Marcus, stands on the right, the “better”, high-​ranking side of the central figure, Concordia
personified. Also, the Fasti Ostienses (inscribed public calendar from Ostia) starts the entry for
the wedding with Faustina: Annia Faustina M. Aurelio Caesari nupsit. (Fasti Ostienses frg. Pa, line
3)32 Even the deceased Faustina Maior was involved in the celebrations: the reverse stamp of the
coin just mentioned (RIC III Antoninus Pius no. 434), that depicted under the legend VOTA
PVBLICA (“public vows”) the dextrarum iunctio (“clasping right hands”) between Marcus and
Faustina Minor, was used for aurei for diva Faustina and for Marcus Caesar (“crown prince”).33
This emphasis on Faustina Minor appears during Marcus’ career as a presumptive successor.
On November 30, 147 CE, Faustina Minor gave birth to a child; a day later, Marcus was
awarded the tribunicia potestas (“tribunician power”) and an imperium proconsulare (“powers of
a proconsul”), i.e. the powers of a Roman emperor, and Faustina Minor the title Augusta.34
Whether or not one wishes Faustina Minor to be the more honored of the two,35 it is obvious
that Marcus would not (yet) have received the awards at this time without Faustina Minor and
her motherhood.The official powers of a Roman emperor were transferred to Marcus not as an
individual or, for example, as a military conqueror, but only in conjunction with and dependent
upon his wife Faustina Minor, the daughter of Antoninus Pius.
The significance of the dynastic function of the two Faustinas can also be clearly recognized
by the exceptionally high proportion of coins representing women in relation to the entire
emission of coins (see Table 36.1).36
The importance of the coins for the Faustinas is even more evident in some details.37 Coins
for divus Hadrianus under Antoninus Pius are virtually undetectable in the hoards and Antoninus
is never named divi (Hadriani) filius (“son of god (Hadrian)”) on coins.38 In the period between
140 and 161 CE, however, coins commemorating diva Faustina Maior make up 20.5–​28.5% of
the different denominations. Antoninus Pius gave much more publicity to his deceased wife and
thus to the mother of Faustina Minor, the fiancée and later wife of the “crown prince” Marcus
than to divus Hadrianus, who had laid the foundation for the rule of Antoninus Pius and Marcus
in 138 CE.
An investigation of the coin legends, the inscriptions on coins, supports this interpretation of
the coinage policy of Antoninus Pius.39 The legends on these coins refer to her, during her life-
time, as Faustina Augusta or as the wife of Antoninus Pius. For Plotina, under Trajan, and Sabina,

Table 36.1 Proportion of coins representing women in relation to all coins of the reigns in the era of the
Faustinas

Gold Silver Bronze

Hadrian (128-38 CE) 16% 14% 7%
Antoninus Pius (138–61 CE) 30% 39% 30%
Marcus Aurelius (161–80 CE) 29% 34% 42%
Commodus (sole rule 180–92 CE) 3% 12% 15%

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under Hadrian, there are similar legends. One would expect this scheme to be used for Faustina
Minor, i.e. that she was presented as the wife of Marcus. However, legends of this kind did not
exist for Faustina Minor, but legends do exist that put her in relation to a man, namely as the
daughter of Antoninus Pius (filia Augusti). The father, Antoninus Pius, was the central reference
person, not the husband Marcus, who benefited from the father–​daughter line.40 Some years
before the death of Pius, the filiation in the legends of the coins for Faustina Minor began to
be omitted,41 but was not replaced by a reference to her husband Marcus. She was now simply
Faustina Augusta and later diva Faustina.
Most likely only members of the senatorial aristocracy had enough familiarity with the
conventions of legends on coins to notice.42 Resistance to the deification of Hadrian revealed
his difficult relationship with the Senate immediately after his death. Antoninus Pius faced a
dilemma. Since Hadrian had brought him to the throne by his adoption, ignoring Hadrian
was not an option;43 rather, in times of crisis, Antoninus Pius reminded Romans of Hadrian’s
regulations governing the succession as a basis for his own legitimacy.44
Given the mood in the Senate, however, it was appropriate to distance himself partially from
Hadrian. One consideration was the legitimation of power for the generation of his successor.
The central message of the coins’ legends about the two Faustinas, in conjunction with the
enormous quantity of coinage, was that the legitimacy of the designated successor, Marcus,
was founded on the family of Antoninus Pius. The link between Antoninus Pius and Marcus
Aurelius was Faustina Minor. As a result, the real creator of the two-​generation adoption regime,
Hadrian, had to take a back seat.
The fact that this message conveyed by Antoninus Pius was appreciated in the aristocracy is
revealed by a bon mot ironically attributed to Marcus Aurelius:

When Marcus Antoninus was told about her [i.e. Faustina’s adulterous life], so that he
might divorce her—​if not execute her—​he is reported to have said, ‘If we send our
wife away, we must give back her dowry too’, and what dowry did he have but the
empire […]
(SHA Marc. 19. 8–​9 )45

Faustina Minor: the multiple mother

Prior to his accession to the throne in 161 CE, Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor, thanks to
their numerous children, remained in the public eye. Faustina gave birth to at least 10, more likely,
11, and possibly 14 children.46 Two of these children, the later Emperor Commodus and Lucilla,
wife of Lucius Verus, made a name for themselves. This immensely fertile marriage symbolized
fecunditas (“fertility”) and therefore the stability of the state. In this sense, the births of the children
were exploited in propaganda. That little children, whether girls or boys, were among the main
themes of the pictorial representations on coins, and the fact that their births gave rise to new
sculptural portrait types of the mother shows their great importance for the dynasty.47

Mater castrorum
Completely new and formative for the women of the domus Augusta after Faustina Minor was
the title of mater castrorum (“mother of the camp”).48 For the first time, a woman was officially
connected with the Roman military, an obviously male domain.49 The title was probably given
to Faustina Minor in the summer of 174 CE.50 Faustina Minor’s stay with her husband and the

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troops during the war on the Danube border, probably contributed to the award of the title, but
such a stay by itself was not so unusual that it would have demanded a new title. Perhaps the
title was awarded to Faustina Minor in connection with an acclamation of Marcus Aurelius as
imperator (whether spontaneously by the soldiers, or by Marcus Aurelius himself, perhaps taking
up an idea of the imperial office, is disputed),51 after a spectacular or hard-​fought victory on
the battlefield.52 Her dynastic importance and her bearing of many children certainly played a
role in the new creation of this title. Additionally, a new connection was established between
the imperial family and the soldiers, who knew Faustina Minor through the images on the
coins especially as a mother. The coins with the legend mater castrorum include a religious com-
ponent: as a new type, a Pietas (“dutiful behavior”), sacrificing in front of an altar, and several
standards appear. This flag shrine (where the standards of the legion were stored) on the coins,
the cult of the emperor, and the domus Augusta were all closely related. The mater castrorum also
suggested diva Faustina Minor’s protective function for the soldiers.

Faustina Minor as mother of Commodus

Granted the importance of the ruler’s children, it is not surprising that women’s fertility was
given high priority. In this respect, Faustina stood apart from her predecessors by having an
unusually large number of children and especially by the fact that, for the first time in 80 years,
a natural son, Commodus, succeeded his father. One would expect that ancient writers would
value Faustina’s role as a mother, but, instead, literary tradition portrays her in a decidedly nega-
tive way, contrary to their extremely positive portrayal of Marcus Aurelius.
Different “types” of women could characterize imperial husbands, fathers, or sons, in literary
tradition.53 If a man was to be discredited, sources either assigned him adulterous and power-​
hungry women or emphasized that women could exercise power under his weak (because
effeminate) rule. Messalina, the meretrix Augusta (“imperial whore”), and Agrippina Minor, a
ferox atque impotens mulier (“unrestrained and intemperate woman”) under Claudius serve as
examples. Sources assigned women connected to “good” rulers traditional positive qualities.54
Alternatively, exemplary women could serve as a foil for “bad” rulers, making them even more
repulsive. Often writers used female characters as “coloring” for the men associated with them,
rather than attempting to portray the women’s individual personality.
Why did writers provide such a lurid picture of Faustina Minor? While imperial coinage
celebrated Faustina Minor for her numerous children, literary tradition pictured one of these
births as fateful. On August 31, 161 CE, Faustina Minor gave birth to the twin brothers T. Fulvus
Aurelius Antoninus and L. Aurelius Commodus.While T. Fulvus Aurelius Antoninus died at the
age of 4, Commodus survived his father Marcus Aurelius and became his successor in 180 CE.
The completely contrary character traits of Commodus and Marcus Aurelius raised a funda-
mental question: how could it be that such a “good” (because respected in senatorial circles)
emperor such as Marcus had such a “bad” (because unpopular and hated in senatorial circles)
son like Commodus?
At this point, Faustina Minor comes into play: undeniably the mother of the “tyrant”
Commodus, she offered an opportunity to explain the unworthy nature of Commodus and to
free Marcus Aurelius from this blemish:55 Faustina Minor must have committed adultery. Given
the gladiatorial character of Commodus, a gladiator must have been the biological father, as
reflected in anecdotes about his conception in the Historia Augusta.56 In one version, Faustina
Minor is said to have fallen madly in love with a gladiator. She had confessed this love to her hus-
band, who had consulted the Chaldeans (Babylonian soothsayers).Their solution was radical: kill
the gladiator, bathe Faustina Minor’s abdomen in his blood (or, rather less strangely, anoint

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her with the blood) and then she was to have immediate sexual intercourse with Marcus. In a
second version, Faustina simply conceived Commodus by committing adultery with a gladiator.
The case of Agrippina Maior illustrates how much the literary intent can determine the
representation of a woman with a comparable biography. She was the wife of Germanicus, a
man glorified like Marcus Aurelius, and was mother of nine children, but among them was the
later despotic emperor Caligula. In order to present Agrippina Maior in a positive light, Tacitus
portrayed her and her husband Germanicus as an outstanding example of a marital bond even
in difficult times, while he simultaneously downplayed Agrippina’s role as mother.57

The rebellion of Avidius Cassius

In 175 CE Avidius Cassius, successful commander and, since 169 CE, controller of the Eastern
provinces of the Roman Empire, proclaimed himself emperor, but was murdered only a short
time later. If this were all we knew about the coup d’état of Avidius Cassius, we would regard it
as the unsuccessful act of a power-​hungry general.58
Cassius Dio, however, presents information that ascribes a prominent role in the coup to
Faustina Minor. He reports that Faustina Minor had incited Avidius Cassius to insurrection. She
had believed her husband’s death to be imminent because of a serious illness, and concluded
that her son, Commodus, because of his age (13) and his intellectual limitations, would not be
suitable for the throne. “Someone” could seize imperial power and she would have to accept
the retreat into private life.59
Although there are no other indications of a serious illness of Marcus Aurelius in 175 CE,
what would a successful usurpation have meant for Marcus’ bereaved family?
Faustina Minor had been involved in dynastic politics for over 30 years, but her dynastic
and legitimizing potential would have been a double-​edged sword after Marcus’ death. Faustina
Minor and her children could have served as a link to the domus Augusta or as a potential threat
to a pretender to the throne, such as a usurping general. In the latter case, the statement of
Cassius Dio, that Faustina feared to become a private citizen, was understated: her fear would
have been, as a minimum, about exile, more likely about death.60
According to Cassius Dio, Faustina Minor therefore suggested that Avidius Cassius take over
the rule and marry her after the death of Marcus Aurelius. While Avidius Cassius was thinking
about Faustina Minor’s proposal, believing a false report of the death of Marcus Aurelius, he
proclaimed himself emperor. However, an “external” solution with Avidius Cassius would have
raised numerous problems, such as the integration or exclusion of Commodus, or the question
of long-​term viability of the arrangement, not least in the light of the biological children of
Avidius Cassius. An “internal” solution with the sons-​in-​law of their daughters would have been
safer and probably more successful in the long term.
The participation of Faustina Minor is doubtful; it is unclear why ancient sources blame
her.61 Two explanations are plausible. The rebellion triggered numerous measures in favor of
the pretender Commodus, culminating in his elevation to co-​Augustus in 177 CE; the rebellion
led to the rule of Commodus. The step from an adulterous to a scheming Faustina Minor is
not far: she is thus blamed not only for character defects, but also for the onset of the reign of
terror of Commodus.
There is a second possibility, relating to a contradiction in the sources. Cassius Dio complains
that Avidius Cassius did not wait for confirmation of the alleged death of Marcus Aurelius,
implying that Faustina Minor was the source of the death message. This could explain Dio’s
puzzling claim that Faustina Minor had deceived Avidius Cassius. The deception would then
have been that Avidius Cassius had not questioned the message because of its supposedly safe

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source (Faustina Minor).The (eastern) senatorial supporters of Avidius Cassius could have blamed
Faustina Minor for the failure of the rebellion and exculpated Avidius Cassius with this episode.62
At the same time, the “ideal” emperor Marcus was not personally threated with usurpation, since
Avidius Cassius started from the assumption that Marcus Aurelius was dead.

The death of Faustina Minor

Cassius Dio links Faustina Minor’s involvement in the uprising with her death soon after: it was
suicide out of fear of punishment.63 Faustina did die very soon after the uprising, in the fall of
175 CE in Cilicia, accompanying her husband on his return from the East. However, this picture
can easily be reversed: the timing of her death, shortly after the uprising, may have led to rumors
that Faustina was involved. And, as Cassius Dio admits, the death may have had natural causes.
Like her mother, numerous measures honored the deceased Faustina Minor. Her place of
death, Halala, a village in Kappadokia (Cappadocia), was elevated to city status as Faustinopolis.
She was made diva Faustina and there must have been a temple for the diva Faustina Minor
in Rome. The charitable foundation instituted to her mother’s memoria was renewed as novae
puellae Faustinianae (“new girls of Faustina”).
Her marriage was central even after her death: Ceionia Fabia, once the fiancée of Marcus, is
said to have tried “to be united with him in marriage” (SHA Marc. 29.10).64 However, Marcus
Aurelius, like Antoninus Pius after the death of Faustina Maior, renounced a new marriage.
A legally non-​binding partnership with a concubine not only recognized the libido of the two
emperors, but also prevented new competition through biological or adoptive sons.

Conclusions
Perhaps Faustina Minor really was a scheming adulteress and aspects of the emperor’s represen-
tation of her served as cover-​up.65 But the androcentric and partly misogynistic view of many
ancient authors instead suggests a purposeful misrepresentation of her, and some modern
researchers continue to accept.66
Maybe Faustina Minor lived only to legitimate the power of her husband and to mother her
many children. The traditional and schematic appreciation of his wife by Marcus Aurelius in his
Meditations could be so interpreted, “that my wife is such as she is, so obedient, so affectionate,
so straightforward” (M. Aur. Med. 1.17).67 Conclusions regarding personal impulses such as pri-
vate mourning for the deceased wife or domestic bliss are difficult.68 The coins reliably reflect
only the importance of the Faustinas for the emperor’s public image and representation. A dyn-
astic role, as we can see for Faustina Maior and Minor, had previously been assigned to women
of the domus Augusta.69 But the public image of the empresses in this context increased to an
unprecedented degree of quality and of quantity, especially in the coinage, which also opened
doors to further developments in the future. However, these representations were of their time,
and thus limited, and can only be seen in retrospect as partially groundbreaking for the women
of domus Augusta.
Despite this extraordinary prominence in public representation, there is no proof of an active
political role for the Faustinas,70 even though literary sources have attributed such an active role
to them.This could be explained, apart from the reasons already mentioned, by recalling that the
sources came from a later era and thus that the women of the Severan dynasty may have served
as the model for their treatment of the women of the earlier domus Augusta. My analysis of the
tradition about the two Faustinas may seem very limited regarding their actual personalities, but
everything more would be mere speculation.

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Notes
1 My special thanks to Juliane Kerkhecker for the great help in correcting the English text. Martin
Beckmann generously allowed me to look at his manuscript. Elizabeth D. Carney and Sabine Müller
have shown great patience and improved the text in many passages. All remaining mistakes are mine.
E.g. Aristid. Or. 14.69–​71 and 94–​9.
2 Translation: Cary 1927: 69.
3 For a wide-​ranging study on the Faustinas, see Levick 2014. For a shorter and thus more super-
ficial overview see Temporini-​Gräfin Vitzthum 2002: 220–​54; Burns 2007: 140–​78; Freisenbruch
2011: 204–​15; Cenerini 2015; 2017 (with a main emphasis on Faustina Minor).
4 The main ancient literary sources for the Faustinas are Cassius Dio, a Greek senatorial writer of the third
century CE, and the Historia Augusta, a collection of biographies of emperors and usurpers by an unknown
writer probably of the fourth century CE (for the dating controversy see e.g. Cameron 2011: 743–​82).
5 There was no women’s right to coin, see Scheer 2006: 313–14; Levick 2014: 36–​8. For a short over-
view over the coinage for the Faustinas see Baharal 2000; Keltanen 2002; Alexandridis 2004: 23–​6.
6 For these and the following family relationships see Priwitzer 2009: 22–​9.
7 Chausson and Buonopane 2010; Kunst 2013: 111–12; Charles-​Laforge 2015.
8 E.g. Birley 1987: 38–​48; 2000: 146–​8.
9 SHA Marc. 4.5.
10 See Chapter 33.
11 The main representatives of this thesis were Pflaum 1964 and Barnes 1967.
12 It must be emphasized that only the wish, not the execution of the engagement has been handed
down: SHA Ant. Pius 4.5–​6; Hadr. 24.1; Marc. 6.2; Ael. 6.9; Verus 2.2–​3.
13 E.g. Weiss 2008: 40; Eck 2012: 97; Birley 2012a: 144; 2012b: 155; Börner 2012: 17;Yarrow 2012: 430;
Adams 2013: 74; Levick 2014: 53–​6, 62; Kulikowski 2016: 34, 37. Lindsay 2009: 214, mentions the
engagement in the context of adoption only marginally.
14 SHA Marc. 6.2.
15 Fündling 2008: 36, wants to recognize a certain closeness between Marcus and Faustina Maior, based
on her alleged mediating role.
16 Maybe Hadrian’s supposed desire for a betrothal between Lucius and Faustina Minor was a
misunderstanding, arising because Marcus and Lucius have been nicknamed “Verus” at different times,
see Priwitzer 2009: 63–​83; 2010: 239–​44; Priwitzer 2017a: 20, n. 121; Michels 2018: 25.
17 Surprisingly, an engagement between Lucius and Faustina Minor is accepted even by those researchers
(e.g. Chausson 2007), who believe in a kinship between Hadrian and Antoninus Pius or Marcus (as e.g.
Vita-​Evrard 1999; Letta 2005). Hekster 2001: 44, already noted that such a kinship “would not further
clarify the earlier choice for Ceionius Commodus.”
18 Setälä 2002: 190, who had been an advocate of the relationship thesis for the changing ownership of
brickworks, now admits that it is not impossible that the sites were simply sold.
19 Priwitzer 2009: 31, 57–​9, 89–​92.
20 On the title of Augusta see Kuhoff 1993.
21 See Chapters 34 and 35.
22 Temporini 1978; 120–​56; Tausend 2011: 15.
23 For the date of death see Weiß 2008: 7–​8. For the commemoration of empresses in general see Davies
2000: 102–19.
24 Beckmann 2012: 41–​50; Michels 2018: 154–​60.
25 A model could have been the temple of diva Matidia Maior, which Hadrian had erected for his mother-​in-​law.
26 For the honors after her death see Michels 2018: 150–​4.
27 Beckmann 2012: 11, 63–​72; Michels 2018: 167–​73.
28 Weiß 2008: 6–​10.
29 Cass. Dio 72,31,1–​2 [Xiph.].
30 Weiß 2008; Michels 2018: 161–​7.
31 Levick 2014: 104–​6.
32 SHA Ant. Pius 10.2: nuptias filiae suae Faustinae, cum Marco Antonino eam coniungeret […]. For possible
interpretations of RIC III Antoninus Pius no. 601 see Scheer 2006: 303 n. 36.
33 Beckmann 2012: 51–​5; Michels 2018: 185–​6.
34 Fasti Ostienses 1982: frg. Pb, line 14–​15; SHA Marc. 6.6.
35 Michels 2018: 188.

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36 Duncan-​Jones 2006; Yarrow 2012: 433–​4. Similar numbers are shown by the studies of Rowan
2011: 992; Hobley 1998: 55, 70, 87–​8, 99; Claes 2013: 191–​2 with graph 9, 201–​6, and 215 with graph
15. Coins from the reign of Hadrian are evaluated only from the period of the elevation of Sabina to
Augusta on; the numbers would be much lower regarding the whole of the reign of Hadrian. About
the meaningfulness of statistical evaluations see Scheer 2006: 316.
37 Priwitzer 2017b: 98–​9.
38 Michels 2018: 61.
39 Meyers 2016.
40 Hadrian evidently chose a different approach. Sabina was referred to either as Sabina Augusta or
Hadrian’s wife. As a daughter of Matidia Augusta she played (at least in the coin legends) no role, see
Priwitzer 2017b: 101–​2.
41 Beckmann 2014: 44. See also Beckmann forthcoming.
42 On other target groups and the reception in other media (inscriptions and sculpture) and in the
provinces of the Roman Empire see Priwitzer 2017b: 102–​6; Beckmann 2012: 73–​91.
43 Cass. Dio 70.1.2-​3 [Xiph.]: “Well, then, I will not govern you either, if he has become in your eyes
base and hostile and a public foe. For in that case you will, of course, soon annul all his acts, of which
my adoption was one” (translation: Cary 1925: 469).
44 Börner 2012: 80–​101.
45 Translation: Birley 1976: 127. For the dynastic importance of Faustina Minor also see Tausend 2011.
46 For an (incomplete) overview of the different counts, see Petraccia Luceroni 2006: 483–​6. Fittschen
1982: 18 n. 9, notes that Faustina may also have had miscarriages; Fittschen sees representations of Spes
(“hope”) on coins as an indication of pregnancies.
47 Fittschen 1982; adjustments by Ameling 1992; Beckmann 2014.
48 Speidel 2012, with detailed discussion of earlier scholarship; Cenerini 2016: 38–​43; 2017: 111–​13.
49 Scheer 2006: 308–9, 312, 316; for a concise view on women and the military see Langford 2013: 24–​31.
50 Cenerini 2016: 38–​9; 2017: 111–​12, dates the event in 171 CE; however, then years would have
passed before the first use of the title on coins. Birley 2012c: 228, arranges the awarding anachronis-
tically (Faustina Minor was clearly awarded the title clearly before the rebellion) as a reaction to the
uprising of Avidius Cassius (see p. 445).
51 Speidel 2012: soldiers; Cenerini 2016; 2017: Marcus Aurelius or his imperial office/​ central
administration.
52 Langford 2013: 33–​48, thinks that “it [the title mater castrorum] was designed […] to convince civilian
populations in Rome and throughout the provinces that the emperor had the army’s unflinching
support for his reign and the establishment of his dynasty” (47).
53 Priwitzer 2009: 4.
54 Tausend 2011: 14.
55 Priwitzer 2009: 170–​4; 2010: 244–​50; Adams 2013: 175.
56 SHA Marc. 19–​1–​7.
57 Hälikkä 2002: 82, 85; Priwitzer 2009: 174.
58 For the usurpation see Priwitzer 2009: 175–​207, with detailed discussion of earlier scholarship, and
Levick 2014: 83–​7.
59 Cass. Dio 72.22.3 [Xiph.].
60 SHA Avid. Cass. 10.5.
61 Cenerini 2015: 8–​9; Cenerini 2017: 104–​8; Birley 2012c: 228–​9, does not even mention the allegations
against Faustina.
62 Cenerini 2015: 9; Cenerini 2017: 107.
63 Astarita 1983: 91, 107–​18, and esp. 137–​8, follows Dio’s interpretation.
64 Translation: Birley 1976: 137; Cenerini 2015: 16.
65 See e.g. Eck 2006 on the honors for Faustina Minor after her death: “These measures were probably
taken by Marcus Aurelius with the intention of countering rumors about her.”
66 Some male historians assume that they have in-​depth knowledge of how women tick. See, e.g. the
assessment of allegations of adultery against Faustina Minor by Schipp 2011: 55, “She was a young
woman and was often left alone”, or Eck 2006 regarding the title mater castrorum, “perhaps also as a
compensation for her unlooked-​for sojourn on the Danube.”
67 Translation: Hard 2011: 9.
68 Fündling 2008: 67–​8; Michels 2018: 173; Cenerini 2015: 5.
69 Corbier 1995.

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70 Michels 2018: 147–​8. For the “power” of the empresses see Levick 2014: 19–​39.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents are those found in the Oxford
Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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Van Ackeren, M. 2012. A Companion to Marcus Aurelius. Malden, MA.
Vidman, L. (ed.) 1982. Fasti Ostienses. Prague.
Weiß, P. 2008. “Die vorbildliche Kaiserehe: zwei Senatsbeschlüsse beim Tod der älteren und der jüngeren
Faustina, neue Paradigmen und die Herausbildung des ‘antoninischen’ Prinzipats.” Chiron. Mitteilungen
der Kommission für alte Geschichte und Epigraphik des deutschen archäologischen Instituts 38: 1–​45.
Yarrow, L. M. 2012. “Antonine Coinage.” In W.E. Metcalf (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Greek and Roman
Coinage. Oxford and New York, 423–​52.

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37
WOMEN IN THE SEVERAN
DYNASTY
Riccardo Bertolazzi

Introduction
It is beyond question that the imperial women who lived during the Severan age were all but
elusive figures.Three out of the five emperors who formed the Severan dynasty, Geta, Elagabalus,
and Severus Alexander, are reported to have been murdered while clinging to their mothers—​
Julia Domna, Julia Soaemias and Julia Mamaea, respectively—​which is indeed striking. To be
sure, after Livia and Agrippina Minor, it was the first time that imperial women whose sons
inherited the purple survived the deaths of their husbands. They consequently found them-
selves in a unique position to assert their authority and, as in the cases of Livia and Agrippina,
to overstep the traditional norms defining the role of high-​ranking women in Roman society.
Their agency is occasionally documented through literary evidence, such as the (lament-
ably epitomized) Roman History written by the contemporary senator Cassius Dio, the History
of the Empire Since the Death of Marcus composed by the otherwise unknown Herodian, and
the imperial biographies of the Historia Augusta (HA). On the other hand, artworks, coins, and
inscriptions, which were abundantly produced in this period, provide us with valuable insights
regarding their presence in public life. I will briefly describe the most salient events which
characterized their staying in power for over 40 years, as well as the most important transform-
ations that the public image of imperial women underwent in this period. I will start with Julia
Domna, wife of emperor Septimius Severus (193–​211) and mother of Caracalla (198–​217) and
Geta (209–​211), and then pass to her sister Julia Maesa, mother of both Julia Soaemias (mother
of emperor Elagabalus [217–​222]), and Julia Mamaea (mother of emperor Severus Alexander
[222–​235]).

Dawn of the dynasty: Julia Domna and the early reign of Severus
The reasons why Septimius Severus, an ambitious senator from the African city of Leptis
Magna, decided to marry Julia Domna, a noblewoman from Emesa, in Syria, are not clear.
Marriages like these were quite unusual, but the HA, our best source about Severus’ life, says
that he was attracted by her horoscope, according to which she was destined to marry a king
(Sev. 3.9; cf. also Geta 3.1 and Alex. Sev. 5.4). This story might well be a propagandistic inven-
tion, though it is important to bear in mind that Emesa had been the capital of a small kingdom

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ruled by “great kings” between the first century BCE and first century CE. Members of the
Emesene aristocracy were still politically active during the second century CE, and one of
them, Julius Alexander, “a prominent man” according to Dio (73[72].14.1), seems to have even
attempted to stir up a revolt against Commodus. We cannot be totally sure that Domna was
related to these people, but thanks to the Epitome de Caesaribus (23.1) we do know that her
father, Julius Bassianus, was priest of the sun god Elagabal, Emesa’s main deity whose cult
enjoyed great renown in the East. It is interesting to note that it took Severus some negotiations
and the intervention of certain friends to secure the hand of Domna (Sev. 3.9). Moreover, their
firstborn son, Septimius Bassianus (the future emperor Caracalla), was named after Domna’s
father, whereas only the second-​born, Septimius Geta, received a cognomen typical of Severus’
family. Remarkably, the cognomen Bassianus was also transmitted through the marriage of Julia
Maesa. She married a Syrian knight, Julius Avitus Alexianus, but their firstborn daughter was
named Julia Soaemias Bassiana, whereas the second was named Julia Avita Mamaea in honor
of her father. Finally, the child born from the marriage between Soaemias and a knight from
Apamea, Sextus Varius Marcellus, became Varius Avitus Bassianus (later to be known as emperor
Elagabalus). This not only demonstrates that Domna’s lineage was regarded as more important
than Severus’, but also indicates that the idea of dynasty was rooted in her family background.1
After Severus was acclaimed emperor by the legions of Pannonia in 193, Domna was almost
immediately given a distinctive place within the regime. In 195 she already appears as Augusta
on a statue base in Panhormus, in Sicily (CIL X 7272), and on the pediment of a temple in
Thugga, in Africa (CIL VIII 1482 = 15504 = 26498); she was also mentioned in a list of omens
which had predicted the accession of Severus, who had dreamed that Marcus Aurelius’ wife
Faustina had prepared the nuptial chamber when he was about to marry Domna. A further pro-
motion came in 196, at around the same time as the elevation of Caracalla to the rank of Caesar,
when she was granted the title of “mother of the camps” (mater castrorum), which Faustina
Minor had already possessed. According to the HA (Clod. 3.5), Domna persuaded Severus to
get rid of his former Caesar and ally Clodius Albinus, the governor of Britannia who was even-
tually defeated and killed in 197. As this anecdote is not confirmed by other sources, it could
be quickly dismissed as gossip. It seems more likely, however, that it reflected the importance
that contemporaries would attribute to her influence. Her maternal role was, in fact, greatly
emphasized from the beginning of Severus’ reign, as clearly demonstrated by a striking number
of coins and inscriptions where she is either mentioned or depicted together with her hus-
band and with her two sons, Caracalla and Geta (respectively Augustus and Caesar since 198).
An early cameo portrays her as the goddess Victoria—​an equation which does not seem to be
documented with respect to previous imperial women—​thereby attesting to her role as per-
sonification of the victories of Severus.2
Nevertheless, such a great exposure made Domna a dangerous enemy. According to Dio
(76[75].15.6), the powerful prefect of the Praetorian Guard C. Fulvius Plautianus, a friend
and fellow countryman of Severus, hated her to such a degree that he would miss no oppor-
tunity to discredit her before the emperor. The enmity between the Augusta and the prefect
probably started during the long stay of the imperial court in the East between 197 and 202.
At this time, in fact, Plautianus took advantage of his position to accumulate riches to the det-
riment of local populations, to whom Domna was naturally sympathetic on account of her
Syrian origin and cultural background. As Aurelius Victor (Caes. 20.35) reports that Severus
retained Domna despite her infidelity and treacherous behavior, it is probable that some of
Plautianus’ accusations ended up circulating outside the imperial court. Interestingly, a large
amount of coins produced for Domna during this period display the legends pi etas (“loy-
alty”) and p vdiciti a (“demureness”). Dio (76[75].15.7) tells us that she retired to a life of

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seclusion among philosophers chiefly on account of Plautianus’ accusations. With Domna on

the defensive, Plautianus managed to persuade Severus to betroth Caracalla to his daughter,
Fulvia Plautilla. The marriage was celebrated in Rome in 202 and Plautilla received the title
of Augusta. Apart from a laconic comment by Dio, who calls her “a most indecent woman”
(77[76].3.1), she remains a very elusive figure, though traces of a distinctive personality indeed
arise when considering that she is portrayed on coins with at least five different coiffures in
less than three years. At any rate, Caracalla bore a strong hatred toward both his spouse and his
father-​in-​law. Hence the suspicion that Domna somehow nurtured this hostility, which finally
led Caracalla to kill Plautianus in front of Severus in 205. Dio (77[76].4.4) notes that this caused
joy to Domna and grief to Plautilla, who was immediately banished to the island of Lipara
(77[76].6.3).3

The last years of Severus and the reign of Caracalla

The removal of Plautilla left Domna as the only Augusta at court. Although by now she was no
longer expected to generate heirs to the throne, her role as mother of the dynasty continued
to be extensively advertised. Some of her most innovative coin types belong to this period.
Among these, it is worth mentioning the type bearing the unprecedented legend mate r avg g
(“mother of the Augusti,” following Geta’s promotion to the rank of Augustus between 208 and
209) and displaying Kybele on a chariot pulled by four lions, as well as the type dedicated to
Vesta (the goddess of hearth, home and family) with the new legend ve sta mate r (“mother
Vesta”). Moreover, she also appears at least six times in the surviving panels that decorated the
famous Severan arch of Leptis Magna, in one instance returning to the persona of Victoria.
Therefore, it does not come as a surprise that, when Severus died in 211 and the rivalry between
Caracalla and Geta violently erupted, Domna was identified as the only person who could keep
peace between them. Herodian explicitly hints at her role of mediator by putting in her mouth
a pathos-​filled speech with which she tried to instill harmony between her two sons (4.3.8–​9).
Beginning in 211, she is called “faithful, blessed mother of the camps, the senate and the father-
land” (Pia, Felix, mater castrorum, senatus et patriae) on coins and inscriptions. Aside from mater
castrorum, this was the first time that an imperial woman was awarded such an array of titles,
which evidently recalled those borne by emperors. Coins issued during this year also depicted
her holding a scepter while either standing or sitting on a throne, a scene which is quite telling
about her enhanced authority. Despite this, Caracalla had Geta treacherously murdered by the
end of the year during a supposedly reconciliatory meeting called in the apartments of Domna.
In a highly dramatized scene described by Dio (78[77].2.1–​4), Geta tried in vain to escape his
assassins by seeking refuge in the arms of his mother, who ended up covered in his blood and
wounded on her hand.4
The violent suppression of Geta’s supporters immediately followed, and it appears to have
marked a deterioration in the relationship between Caracalla and Domna. The HA says that,
in the aftermath of the assassination, Caracalla was tempted to kill his mother as well (M. Ant.
3.3), whereas Dio reports that she was forbidden to mourn Geta and kept under close watch
(78[77].2.5–​6). Curiously, coins minted for her during this period do not display any particular
innovation, thus corroborating the impression that she was forced to reduce her presence in
public life. Yet the situation soon began to change. In 213 Caracalla left Rome to campaign
against the Alamanni and Domna accompanied him. When a victory was achieved toward the
end of the year, the Arval Brethren (priests who offered sacrifices to the Lares and gods to
guarantee good harvests) in Rome celebrated it as a success of both Caracalla and his mother.
This was probably a consequence of the fact that, as Dio notes, Caracalla “used to include her

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name, in terms of high praise, together with his own and that of the legions, in his letters to
the senate, stating that she was well” (78[77].18.2). Dio was also present when the imperial
court, on its way to the East, wintered in Nicomedia between 214 and 215, and it was pre-
sumably on this occasion that he saw her “holding public receptions for all the most prom-
inent men, precisely as did the emperor” (78[77].18.3). Furthermore, she would give Caracalla
“many and excellent recommendations” (78[77].18.1), being also entrusted with the managing
of the imperial correspondence in both Greek and Latin (78[77].18.3). Although this task did
not imply any official power, it put the Augusta in an unprecedented position to decide which
matters would be prioritized and submitted to the attention of the emperor. An inscription
from Ephesus reporting two letters, one from Domna and the other from Caracalla (IEph 212
ll. 9–​22), nicely illustrates how this mechanism might have worked. In her letter, Domna praised
the city and stated that she wanted all the communities of the empire to receive benefits from
her son; immediately after a separate letter from Caracalla granted the privileges sought by
the Ephesians. Along with her prevalence in literary sources, it is noteworthy that her general
presence in inscriptions remarkably increased in this period. At this time some of her most
innovative imperial coin types were also struck, most notably the double denarii depicting a
lunar crescent under her bust, which paired with the double denarii portraying Caracalla with
the radiate crown symbolizing the sun. It is finally important to mention the famous Warsaw
relief, where Domna is for the third time depicted as the personification of Victoria while pla-
cing a laurel crown upon the head of her son in military attire. Dio’s references to her “crafti-
ness” (78[77].6.1a and 10.2) are, after all, telling of her ability to overcome the fluctuations of
fortune, and this certainly impressed contemporary politicians. At a more popular level, a variety
of jibes hinting at an incestuous relationship between Domna and Caracalla started to circu-
late: the HA reports the anecdote about her alleged affair with her son (M. Ant. 10.1–​4); and
Herodian (4.9.3) claims that the Alexandrians nicknamed her Jocasta.5
The close cooperation between the Augusta and the emperor turned out to be fatal for both
of them. In early 217, a letter from the prefect of the city to Caracalla informing the emperor
of a conspiracy hatched by the prefect of the guard Opellius Macrinus was diverted to Domna,
who was residing in Antiocheia while her son campaigned in Mesopotamia.The warning never
reached Caracalla, and the conspirators consequently took the emperor by surprise and killed
him on April 6, 217. To show continuity with the Severan regime, Macrinus, now emperor, at
first allowed Domna to keep her titles and retinue, but later ordered her to return to Emesa as a
private person, upon discovering that she was trying (without success) to incite the praetorians
against him. Unable to tolerate such a humiliation, Domna committed suicide. Notably, she is
the only Augusta to whom Dio dedicated an obituary, deprecating her attachment to power
and recalling the numerous adversities she had faced during the reigns of her husband and son
(79[78].24.1–​3). Her remains were brought to the tomb of Gaius and Lucius in Rome, pre-
sumably by her sister Maesa, who later moved them to the mausoleum of the Antonines, where
the bones of Severus and her two sons had also been placed. She was also deified together with
Caracalla under either Macrinus or Elagabalus.6

The dynasty strikes back: Elagabalus and the Syrian Augustae

Following the death of Domna, Macrinus forced Maesa and her two daughters, Julia Soaemias
and Julia Mamaea, to leave the imperial court and retire to Emesa. However, Macrinus’ inability
to successfully conclude the Mesopotamian war started by Caracalla, his decision to come
to terms with the Parthians, and his refusal to grant an increased salary to the new recruits
made him less and less popular among the soldiers. Presumably aware of this, Maesa foresaw an

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opportunity to bring the dynasty back to power. According to Herodian (5.3.10–​12), by prom-
ising money and spreading word that the son of Soaemias, the 14-​year-​old Avitus Bassianus,
was the illegitimate son of Caracalla, she managed to have him acclaimed emperor on May
16, 218, under the name Marcus Aurelius Antoninus by the legionaries of the Legio III Gallica
(which was stationed not far from Emesa). Dio reports a similar story (79[78].31.2–​4), but
he attributes the whole plan to a freedman of Maesa, Eutychianus, who claimed that the god
Elagabal had bidden him to bring the young Bassianus to the legionary camp.This was probably
the official version of the story which Maesa put into circulation. Although she was immedi-
ately proclaimed Augusta and avia Augusti (“grandmother of the Augustus,” a new title which
was expressly created for her), she seems to have been particularly concerned with keeping a
low profile. An imperial woman who would take too much initiative was, in fact, generally
frowned upon, for which reason Domna had been accused of incest and, after Caracalla’s death,
of aspiring to “become sole ruler” in the same fashion as Eastern queens from the legendary
past. As a result, Eutychianus was put in command of the troops supporting Antoninus’ claim
to the throne, though, as observed by Dio (79[78].38.4), Maesa and Soaemias had to intervene
during the final battle to restrain the soldiers from fleeing. Once Macrinus had been defeated
and killed, Eutychianus was entrusted with the task of teaching the young Antoninus how to
behave as an emperor, but Herodian noted that the current affairs “were set in order for him by
his grandmother and his advisors” (5.5.1). Soaemias soon became Augusta as well, bearing also
the title of mater Augusti (“mother of the Augustus”).7
Problems started to arise, nonetheless, quite early in the new reign, for the emperor soon
grew intolerant of the supervision of Eutychianus, eventually killing him while the imperial
court was returning to Rome during the winter of 218–​219. Antoninus made no mystery of
his intention to present himself as an emperor who was above all chief minister of the god
Elagabal, as coins and inscriptions referring to him as sacerdos amplissimus dei Solis Invicti Elagabali
(“most elevated priest of the Invincible Sun God Elagabal”) clearly indicate. Furthermore, our
sources attribute to him a long list of cruelties and sexual extravagances, though verifying the
truthfulness of all this information remains difficult. It is certain that the new emperor, who
was soon nicknamed Elagabalus, turned out to be unbearable to the conservative senatorial
elite and, most importantly, to the praetorians, whose role in making and unmaking emperors
had been determinant only a few decades before, as the cases of Pertinax and Didius Julianus
demonstrate. Herodian says that Maesa tried in vain to moderate the excesses of her grandson
(5.5.5). Notably, her prudent and pragmatic conduct appears quite clearly in her coinage, which
is entirely dedicated to traditional deities and virtues of the Augustae such as Juno, Pudicitia,
Fecunditas, etc. Soaemias adopted a quite different stance. Her strong attachment to Elagabalus
is stressed by the HA, where it is noted that the emperor “was wholly under the control of his
mother […] so greatly that he did no public business without her consent” and, predictably, “she
lived like a harlot and practiced all kinds of indecencies in the palace” (Heliogab. 2.1). She was,
moreover, authorized to enter the senate and to sit on the bench of the consuls and eventually to
create a “senate of women” (senatus mulierum), whose function was to legislate for privileges for
matrons (Heliogab. 4.1–​4).This latter passage has been generally dismissed as fiction, but it seems
quite revealing of how her influence over the emperor and unusual behavior inconvenienced
the elites of Rome. Traces of unconventional conduct might also be found in her coinage. This
places a conspicuous emphasis upon Venus Caelestis, an incarnation of Venus appearing for the
first time on Roman imperial coins and personifying the Carthaginian goddess Urania, whom
the emperor wanted to symbolically marry to the god Elagabal.8
The numerous marriages of emperor Elagabalus seem also to reflect the differing views of
Maesa and Soaemias.These seem to have influenced the boy emperor in opposite ways, pushing

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him to alternately pursuing traditional and theocratic styles of rule. Soon after his arrival in
Rome, in 219, Elagabalus married a distinguished noblewoman, Julia Cornelia Paula, but he
divorced her the following year when he decided to marry Aquilia Severa, a Vestal virgin, with
the apparent purpose of creating a sacred union between himself, the priest of Elagabal, and a
priestess of Vesta. Inasmuch as this decision violated one of the most sacred Roman traditions,
this new marriage caused an immense scandal. Yet, besides the title of Augusta, Aquilia Severa
was also awarded the titles mater castrorum, senatus et patriae which had belonged to Julia Domna.
A third marriage in 221, this time with a great-​granddaughter of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina
Minor, Annia Faustina, was probably meant to regain credibility, but it did not seem to have had
the desired effect, particularly because Elagabalus returned to Aquilia Severa shortly thereafter.9
Amid such chaotic events, Maesa realized that the only way to stay in power was to replace
Elagabalus before an uprising would eliminate both him and the members of his family. According
to Herodian (5.7.1–​2), by using a good deal of persuasion Maesa convinced Elagabalus that the
best way for him to fulfill his priestly duties was to delegate some power to his 12-​year-​old cousin
Gessius Alexianus, the son of Julia Mamaea, by bestowing the title of Caesar upon him.The cere-
mony, which also included Elagabalus’ adoption of Alexianus and the bestowal of the new name
Marcus Aurelius Alexander upon him, took place in the senate in June 221. Dio (80[79].17.2–​3)
also records this event, though he omits the details of Maesa’s work behind the scenes, simply
noting that she was present together with Soaemias at the side of the emperor. Interestingly,
Elagabalus affirmed that it was a prophecy of the god Elagabal that had persuaded him to adopt his
cousin.This detail recalls the alleged prediction of Elagabal which had urged Eutychianus to bring
Elagabalus to the legionary camp three years before. Hence the probability is that Maesa made
use of this stratagem once again, displaying her authority by coming to the senate, but prudently
avoiding an overt role as the mastermind behind the operation.10
The promotion of Alexander to the rank of Caesar did not imply the granting of any con-
spicuous powers, his new title of nobilissimus Caesar imperi et sacerdotis (“most noble Caesar of the
empire and the priesthood”) being a clear allusion to his subordination to the priest-​emperor.
Nevertheless, the accession opened the way to the ambitions of Julia Mamaea, who started to
work hard to win support for her son among senators and praetorians. Thanks to Herodian we
know, in fact, that she kept Alexander under close watch in order to prevent him from joining
the emperor when he was worshiping Elagabal (5.7.5), had him educated according to Greek
and Roman customs (same passage) and, finally, that she started to secretly distribute money to
the praetorians (5.8.3). Once Elagabalus became aware that something was coming down the
pike and started to plot the removal of his cousin, Maesa and Mamaea joined forces to pro-
tect Alexander. At some point before the end of 221, a first attempt by Elagabalus to murder
Alexander was frustrated with the help of the praetorians, who took Alexander and Mamaea
under protection in their camp. It was only thanks to the intervention of the praetorian prefect
Flavius Antiochianus that the soldiers spared Elagabalus. His prestige was at this point severely
damaged, and Maesa’s hatred of him reportedly drove her to favor Severus Alexander as the
only “true son” of Caracalla. A second plot was discovered a little later, on March 11 or 12, 222,
inevitably resulting in another outcry of the praetorians. In order to placate them, Elagabalus
went to the camp with Alexander, but this time Dio notes that a violent quarrel broke out
between Soaemias and Mamaea, who were also present, causing excitement among the soldiers
(80[79].20.1–​2); when Elagabalus tried to take advantage of the confusion to escape, he was
seized and killed together with his mother, who died while clinging tightly to him (same
passage). Their bodies were mutilated and dragged through the streets of Rome, the corpse of
Elagabalus eventually being thrown into the Tiber, quite symbolically near the outlet of the
Cloaca Maxima.11

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Severus Alexander and the rule of mamma

Alexander was acclaimed emperor with the name of Marcus Aurelius Severus Alexander imme-
diately after the assassination of Elagabalus. At the same time, Mamaea took the place of her
murdered sister by assuming the titles of Augusta and mater Augusti. Maesa retained both her
titles and position of influence. According to Herodian (6.1.1–​2), Maesa and Mamaea, who
were de facto controlling the management of imperial affairs, carefully selected the men who
were to form Alexander’s council of advisors (consilium principis) by including the most authori-
tative senators, thus communicating an idea of rupture with the policies of Elagabalus and
promoting a reconciliation with the senatorial class. The Byzantine chronicler Zonaras, who
says that Mamaea “gathered wise men about her son […] with whom she shared all that had
to be done” (12.15), and the HA, which affirms that the emperor “while still a boy, used to do
everything in conjunction with his mother, so that she seemed to have an equal share in the
rule” (Alex. Sev. 14.7), partially confirm this information. Furthermore, the New History by the
late-​antique historian Zosimus says that Mamaea entrusted the jurist Ulpian, a knight who had
perhaps been Alexander’s secretary when he was still a Caesar, with a sort of supervision over
the praetorian prefects, Julius Flavianus and Geminius Chrestus (1.11.2–​3). These were never-
theless replaced by Ulpian as sole prefect already in 222. As one of the foremost experts in law
and Mamaea’s trusted man, Ulpian was expected to foster legal protection under the law as the
main trait of the new regime, checking the excessive power which courtiers and praetorians
had accumulated under Elagabalus. His tenure did not last for long, however, since the imperial
freedman and influential courtier Epagathus formed a conspiracy against him. The details of
the plot are wrapped in obscurity, but we are certain about the involvement of the praetorians,
whose hostility toward Ulpian had been brewing in the meantime. During a riot between the
soldiers and the mob, Ulpian was chased down by a group of soldiers and killed in the imperial
palace, in front of Alexander and Mamaea, who watched the scene helplessly. In order to punish
Epagathus without upsetting the praetorians, Alexander had to appoint him prefect of Egypt
and have him killed away from Italy at some point in 224.12
The death of the elderly Maesa, which should be dated not long after Ulpian’s, must have
further weakened the regime, but the spirit of cooperation between emperor and senate did
not deteriorate. In 225, Alexander married Gnaea Seia Herennia Sallustia Barbia Orbiana,
the daughter of the senator Lucius Seius Sallustius. The latter was probably made Caesar, a
move which was evidently supposed to strengthen Alexander’s position by adding an elder
and authoritative male individual to the imperial family. This experiment, however, was short-​
lived. Both Herodian (6.1.9–​10) and Zonaras (12.15) report that Mamaea treated Sallustius and
Orbiana in an insolent way, and that Alexander did not dare to restrain his mother. In 227 Seius
Sallustius tried, in vain, to appeal to the praetorians for protection, but Mamaea managed to
have him charged with conspiracy and put to death. As for Orbiana, she was exiled to Africa.13
That Mamaea did not want to lose her position of influence appears quite clearly from the
examination of the epigraphical dedications, where she was systematically given precedence
over Orbiana, thus making it clear that her omnipresence was anything but diminished after her
daughter-​in-​law had been granted the title of Augusta. Furthermore, starting from this period,
Mamaea assumed the titles of mater castrorum, senatus et patriae, which had already belonged to
Julia Domna. This seems to indicate that Mamaea progressively distanced herself from the pru-
dent policies of Maesa, resuming a protagonist role like that of Domna. Curiously, as in the case
of her aunt, jokes about Mamaea’s attachment to her son seem to have been in circulation. This
time, though, more emphasis was placed on her overly controlling attitude and on Alexander’s
dependency on her: according to the HA, some halls in the imperial palace which the emperor

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had named after Mamaea were popularly renamed Ad Mammam (Alex. Sev. 26.9), and another
anonymous text, the Epitome de Caesaribus, relates that she would force her son to feast with
leftovers from previous meals (24.5).14
It is not surprising, then, that Mamaea met the same tragic fate as Alexander. She followed her
son in the campaigns against the Persians and the Germans between 232 and 235, and, together
with him, she became the target of the dissatisfaction of the soldiers. According to Herodian
(6.5.8 and 6.8.3), they blamed the lack of decisive victories on Alexander’s poor military lead-
ership and dependency on a mother who was also accused of embezzling the money of the
donatives (6.9.4). These accusations were evidently so widespread that even the HA, the source
most favorably inclined toward Alexander, admits that the soldiers “were speaking of him as a
child and of his mother as greedy and covetous” (Alex. Sev. 59.8) and hated Alexander because
they thought that Mamaea “wanted to abandon the war against the Germans and return to the
East in order to display her power there” (Alex. Sev. 63.5). This resentment was exploited by an
ambitious official in charge of training the recruits, Maximinus, who was acclaimed emperor
by his soldiers while the court was still in Germany, in February or March 235. Nobody rose
in defense of the emperor and the Augusta, who were slain while clinging to each other in the
imperial headquarters near Mogontiacum. Maximinus ordered the destruction of their images
and the erasure of their names from inscriptions. Although the senate restored the name of
Alexander and deified him after the death of Maximinus in 238, the same honors were not
granted to Mamaea, as no coins or inscriptions refer to her as a goddess. She was probably still
blamed for the death of Seius Sallustius and the banishment of Orbiana, but the impression
remains that such a treatment was unfair. After all, it was she who, together with Maesa, had
engineered the philo-​senatorial regime of Alexander in the first place.15

Conclusions
This discussion of Roman imperial power demonstrates that one cannot really study the pol-
itical history of the Severan age without considering the agency of its Augustae. There is no
doubt that they surpassed previous imperial women in both visibility and influence. Several
factors made this possible. The first is Severus’ decision to establish a dynasty, which allowed
Domna and her successors to play an important role in the transmission of power. The second
is the availability of young princes whom they could influence. The third, and perhaps most
important one, is their extraordinary political perspicacity and courage: Domna managed to
survive Plautianus and the assassination of Geta, coping with Caracalla in such a successful way
that she was granted honors never before achieved by an imperial woman; Maesa overthrew an
emperor, put a theocrat in power, and then replaced him with a senate-​friendly regime when
she concluded that the latter would better serve her purposes; neither Domna nor Soaemias nor
Mamaea showed hesitation when they realized that addressing the soldiers was the only way to
stay in power; lastly, through thick and thin, Mamaea managed to remain a point of reference in
Roman politics for over 13 years.
It is attractive to think that their Syrian (and therefore Hellenistic) background provided
them with precious knowledge on how to navigate dynastic struggles and conspiracies, insofar
as this kind of conflict had a much older tradition in the East than in the West. They were able
to achieve, all things considered, more honors and power than Livia and Agrippina, who were
both mothers of emperors. Yet, apart from Maesa, who died of old age, Domna, Soaemias and
Mamaea had to succumb to the vicissitudes of the army, the real emerging, powerful force
which would dominate imperial politics during the rest of the third century. One might note,
however, that their style continued to be imitated. Otacilia Severa (wife of Philip the Arab),

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Riccardo Bertolazzi

Cornelia Solonina (wife of Gallienus), and Ulpia Severina (wife of Aurelian) were also matres
castrorum, senatus et patriae; on coins they were portrayed with hairstyles recalling those of the
Severan Augustae, and their busts were often placed over lunar crescents. The memory of the
Syrian imperial women had not completely faded away.

Notes
1 Marriage: Okoń 2010. Dynasty of Emesa: Levick 2007: 6–​22 and references there. Julius Alexianus: Letta
1985; Buraselis 1991. Caracalla as Septimius Bassianus: PIR2 S 446. Domna’s lineage and dynastic trad-
ition in her family: Buraselis 1991: 32; Chausson 1995: 698–​9.
2 Dream: Dio 75(74).3.1. Mater castrorum: Kienast, Eck, and Heil 2017: 137 (Faustina), 152 (Domna). Cf.
also the discussion in Langford 2011: 23–48; Conesa Navarro 2019: 283–7. Maternal role on coins and
inscriptions: Bertolazzi 2019: 465–​71; Nadolny 2016: 113–​32 with further references. Cameo: Staatliche
Kunstsammlungen of Kassel (Germany): inv. no. Ge 236. Cf. Alexandridis 2004: 205–6 no. 233 (tab. 60
fig. 3); Lichtenberger 2011: 358. Domna as Victoria: Ghedini 1984: 132–​5; Lichtenberger 2011: 357–​9.
3 Hatred with Plautianus: Bertolazzi 2018. Connection between pi etas and pvdicitia types (RIC
572, 885 and 575–​76) and Domna’s retirement: Lusnia 1995: 130. Contra: Levick 2007: 76. Cf. also
Rowan 2011: 250–​1 on the quantity of coins in circulation. Domna and philosophers: Buraselis 1991;
Levick 2007: 107–​23. On Plautianus and Plautilla, González Fernández and Conesa Navarro 2014;
2018; Bingham and Imrie 2015. On Plautilla’s coiffures,Varner 2004:164–​5.
4 On the mate r avgg and ve sta mate r types (RIC 562, 858, 885 and 583–​6, 868, 892–​3), Bertolazzi
2019 and bibliography there. Arch of Leptis: Ghedini 1984: 55–​110. Presence on arches: Cassibry 2014.
New titles: Kienast, Eck, and Heil 2017: 152; cf. also Bertolazzi 2019: 476–​7. Coins depicting her
while holding a scepter: RIC 380–​1, 588, 601.
5 Lack of innovations on coins after Geta’s murder: Bertolazzi 2019: 477–​8. Arval Brethren: CIL VI
2086 = 32380 = Scheid 1998: 284 no. 99a ll. 23–​5. Presence in Caracalla’s letters and public receptions,
cf. Bertolazzi 2015. Tuori 2016: 196 stresses Domna’s peculiar position in managing the imperial
correspondence. Increased presence in inscriptions: Nadolny 2016: 88. Innovative types: Bertolazzi
2019: 477–​80. Relief: National Museum in Warsaw inv. no. 139678, cf. Ghedini 1984: 113–​19
(fig. 12); Alexandridis 2004: 205 no. 230 (tab. 53 fig. 2); Lichtenberger 2011: 358 (fig. 283); Heckster
2015: 152–​3. On the incest, Davenport 2017.
6 Letter: Dio 79(78).4.2–​3. Failed plot and suicide: Dio 79(78).23.1–​6. Remains: Dio 79(78).24.3. On
the impression Domna left on Dio, cf. Scott 2017.
7 Maesa’s retirement to Emesa: Dio 79(78).30.3; Hdn. 5.3.2. Macrinus and the army: cf. in gen-
eral Potter 2014: 146–​51. Maesa Augusta: upon co-​opting Antoninus, at some point between June
and July, the Arval Brethren included Maesa as Augusta and avia Augusti nostri in their prayer (CIL
VI 2104 = 32388 = Scheid 1998: 297 no. 100 l. 21). Domna as sole ruler: Dio 79(78).23.3. On
Eutychianus, who is sometimes referred to as Gannys, Scott 2018: 86–​7. Dio 80(79).6.2–​3 stresses his
role as tutor of Antoninus. Soaemias Augusta: Kienast, Eck, and Heil 2017: 168.
8 Eutychianus’ death: Dio 80(79).6.1, cf. Scott 2018: 121; for a general overview of the reign of Elagabalus,
cf. Potter 2014: 151–​7; McHugh 2017: 61–​85 with further references. According to Dio (80[79].6.2),
Soaemias had an affair with Eutychianus, “who was virtually her husband.” This relationship probably
contributed to foment rumors about her unconventional behavior. Interestingly, before Elagabalus’
accession, Soaemias had dedicated the tomb of her late husband, Sex.Varius Marcellus, by calling him
“most beloved husband” (CIL X 6569 = IG XIV 911), thus displaying herself as a devout widow.
Senatus mulierum: Kettenhofen 1979: 68–​9; Elefante 1982; Wallinger 1990: 99–​103. Coins: Rowan
2011: 261–​7.
9 Cornelia Paula: PIR2 C 660. Aquilia Severa: PIR2 A 648. Annia Faustina: PIR2 A 710.
10 On the connection between the predictions of the god Elagabal and the agency of Maesa, cf. Bertolazzi
(forthcoming).
11 Nobilissimus … sacerdotis: cf. McHugh 2017: 70–​1. Dio (80[79].19.1–​2) narrates Elagabalus’ first attempt
to murder Alexander, stressing the role of Maesa and Mamaea in protecting Alexander. Herodian
(5.8.3) talks of several failed plots, also noting the agency of Maesa and Mamaea. Cf. Scott 2018: 144–​5.
Elagabalus spared: HA, Heliogab. 13.4–​5. Maesa’s hatred: Dio 80(79).19.4. Cloaca Maxima: Hdn. 5.8.9.
12 On the reign of Alexander in general, cf. Potter 2014: 151–​67; McHugh 2017. On Alexander’s consilium,
cf. also Letta 1991: 690–​1; Davenport 2011; Schöpe 2014: 208–​10. Mamaea’s titles: Kienast, Eck, and

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Heil 2017: 174. Dio, who became a protégé of Alexander, attributes the appointment of Ulpian to the
latter (80.1.1). Cf. Scott 2018: 148–​9. Assassination of Ulpian: Dio 80.2.2–​4.
13 On Maesa’s death and deification, cf. the discussion in McHugh 2017: 129–​30, who places her
death between the end of 225 and 226. Kettenhofen 1981, who suggests a date before August
224 sounds, however, more convincing: in Ostia, a dedication to Alexander and Mamaea dating
to August 3, 224 (CIL XIV 125) refers to the latter as mater […] totius domus divinae, thus indi-
cating that Maesa was no longer present as a member of the court. Cf. also Letta 1991: 692.
Her deification likely took place after November 7, 224, for the number of deities to whom
the Arval Brethren sacrificed on this date (CIL VI 2107 = 32390 = Scheid 1998: 315 no. 105b
ll. 13–​14) was still the same as in 218 (CIL VI 2104 = 32388 = Scheid 1998: 293 no. 100a
l. 4); cf. Kettenhofen 1981: 247. Marriage with Orbiana: Hdn. 6.1.9. Dating: Kienast, Eck, and
Heil 2017: 173; McHugh 2017: 132–​3. Overthrow of Seius (PIR2 M 27 and S 81) and exile of
Orbiana: Hdn. 6.1.10. Dating: Kettenhofen 1981: 247.
14 Mamaea’s titles on inscriptions: Kettenhofen 1979: 156–​63; coins: Kosmetatou 2002.
15 Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History (6.21.3) attests to Mamaea’s presence in Antiocheia during the campaign
against the Persians. Assassination in Mogontiacum: Hdn. 6.9.6–​7.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections not listed here are those found in the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

IEph Wankel, H., et al. (eds.) 1979–​1984. Die Inschriften von Ephesos. Bonn.

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Bertolazzi, R. 2015. “The Depiction of Livia and Julia Domna by Cassius Dio: Some Observations.” Acta
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Bertolazzi, R. 2018. “On the Alleged Treachery of Julia Domna and Septimius Severus’ Failed Siege of
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Bertolazzi, R. (forthcoming). “Cassius Dio, Julia Maesa, and the Omens Foretelling the Rise of Elagabalus
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Bingham, S. and Imrie, A. 2015. “The Prefect and the Plot: A Reassessment of the Murder of Plautianus.”
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Buraselis, K. 1991. “Syria, Emesa and the Severans: Political Ambitions and Hellenistic Tradition in the
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Chausson, F. 1995. “Vel Iovi vel Soli: quatre études autour de la Vigna Barberini (191–​354).” Mélanges de
l’École Française de Rome. Antiquité 107, 2: 661–​765.
Conesa Navarro, P.D. 2019. “Faustina la Menor y Julia Domna como matres castrorum. Dos mujeres al
servicio de la propaganda imperial de las dinastías Antonina y Severa.” Lucentum 38: 281–99.
Davenport, C. 2011. “Iterated Consulships and the Government of Severus Alexander.” Zeitschrift für
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Elefante, M. 1982. “A proposito del senaculum mulierum. S.H.A. Ant. Hel. 4,3–​Aurel. 49,6.” Rendiconti della
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Ghedini, F. 1984. Giulia Domna tra oriente e occidente. Le fonti archeologiche. Rome.

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González Fernández, R. and Conesa Navarro, P.D. 2014. “Plauciano: la amenaza de la domus Severiana.”
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Kettenhofen, E. 1979. Die syrischen Augustae in der historischen Überlieferung. Bonn.
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Letta, C. 1991. “La dinastia dei Severi.” In A. Schiavone (ed.), Storia di Roma, vol. II.2. Turin, 639–​700.
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des Septimius Severus und seiner Familie (193–​211 n.Chr.). Leiden.
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38
WOMEN IN THE FAMILY
OF CONSTANTINE
Michaela Dirschlmayer

Dynastic potential (the prelude)1

The ideology of the tetrarchy—​two Augusti ruling the Roman Empire together with two
Caesares—​conceded no influential position to imperial women, yet even without an explicit
statement it is clear that the dynastic potential of the empresses was used to encourage loyalty
to the newly appointed Caesares within this system, through the matrimonial policy of the
tetrarchs:2 Galeria Valeria, daughter of Diocletian and Prisca, was married to Galerius;Theodora,
daughter of Eutropia (wife of Maximianus—​also known as Maximian), to Constantius I; Fausta,
daughter of Maximianus and Eutropia, to Constantine I; Valeria Maximilla, daughter of Galerius,
to Maxentius (son of Maximianus); and Constantia, half-​sister of Constantine I, to his imperial
colleague Licinius. We do not know much about these women, just little snippets—​sometimes
they are not even mentioned by name, and sometimes they are mentioned only to play a certain
role within a tendentious account. Let us focus on Galeria Valeria.3 From coins and inscriptions
we know that she bore the titles Augusta and mater castrorum (“mother of the army camps”), and
from Ammianus Marcellinus and Aurelius Victor that Galerius named a province after her. But
most information is conveyed in the account of Lactantius. According to this contemporary
author,Valeria and her mother Prisca were forced by Diocletian to sacrifice to the pagan gods,
found refuge at the court of Maximinus Daia after Galerius’ death, only to have to flee once
again because of Maximinus’ sexual advances and intention to marry Valeria. But this Roman
empress preferred to remain an univira, a Roman woman married only once. Together with
her mother she was banished to Syria and both were beheaded in the province.4 Besides the
few facts provided by Lactantius, namely her flight to Maximinus Daia rather than appearing
at Licinius’ court as her dying husband had ordered, her exile to Syria and execution under the
rule of Maximinus Daia, our Christian author is painting here a certain picture: the tetrarch
emperors are bloodthirsty devils, while Valeria and Prisca, the female part of the imperial court,
seem to be the modest (Christian) counterpoint.5
In addition to the stereotypical description of Roman empresses, we see here the main
problem of the sources about women in the family of Constantine. On the one hand we now
have Christian sources emphasizing that Roman empresses were supporters of the Christian
faith, and on the other hand pagan sources condemning them for this support or emphasizing

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Michaela Dirschlmayer

that they took the pagan side.The present chapter about the women in the family of Constantine
is written with these concerns in mind.

Sisters, a bargaining chip

Anastasia6 and Constantia,7 daughters of Constantius I and Theodora and thus half-​sisters of
Constantine, are mainly mentioned in the context of the matrimonial policy just described.
After the defeat of Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in 312 CE, Constantine arranged the
marriage between his sister Constantia and Licinius, a marriage that took place in Milan in
313, and another marriage between his sister Anastasia and a senator named Bassianus.8 The
first part of the Anonymous Valesianus reports that Licinius favored Bassianus as Caesar (perhaps
for the Italian region), but these hopes did not last long. Bassianus was executed, the conflict
between Licinius and Constantine broke out openly, and Licinius took his wife Constantia, his
son, and his treasuries and headed for Dacia.9 With the death of Bassianus, Anastasia disappears
from sight. Constantia, on the other hand, is mentioned after Licinius’ defeat at Nicomedia in
324, in different sources, as interceding for the life of her husband and, of course, her son.10 At
first her pleas seem to have been successful; Licinius was sent to Thessaloniki, to continue his
life in safety as a private individual. But shortly afterwards, in 325, Licinius was killed and—​if
we follow the fourth-​century writer Eutropius—​just one year later their son Licinianus was
too (Licinianus had been proclaimed Caesar in the year 317 together with Constantine’s sons
Crispus, a son from his first marriage to Minervina, and Constantinus II).11 Of these three
Caesares just one survived the fateful year 326, when Constantine executed his son Crispus and
his wife Fausta. Constantia’s later fate is unclear: the literary sources do not mention her again.
Her son Licinianus would have been 11 years old then, and Fausta, Constantine’s wife and
Augusta of the Roman Empire, would have been in her late 20s or early 30s.

The two Augustae, Fausta and Helena

Panegyrics from the tetrarchic period mention Fausta12 in a completely typical way for that
time: if at all, then within a picture or in allegory, but not by name.13 The Panegyric of the
year 307, delivered on the occasion of Constantine’s appointment as Caesar and the wedding
of Fausta and Constantine, describes a picture (probably a mosaic) in which the young empress
hands over an adorned helmet to her future husband.14 The intention of the orator in this case
is clear: to signify that Fausta and Constantine were meant to be married, and were promised
to each other a long time before, obscuring the actual circumstances: in the years before 307,
Constantine had already been married, to Minervina. Their son Crispus is praised as an excel-
lent commander of the troops in 321,15 so it can be assumed that in 307 he was no longer an
infant. What happened to Minervina is unclear, because the sources neither refer to the death
of Constantine’s first wife nor stress an end of the marriage (or concubinate) that left the way
free for Fausta.
Flavia Maxima Fausta was most likely born around 298.16 Her marriage to Constantine,
at a very young age, was intended to tie the bond between the Augustus Maximianus and the
Caesar Constantine, so in handing over the adorned helmet Fausta is handing over an imperial
insignium. Another snippet is given in an oration of Julian (later known as the Apostate), an
encomium written for Constantius II:

The city, that rules over them all was your mother and nurse, and in an auspicious
hour delivered to you the imperial scepter […] I meant that, even if men are born

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Women in the family of Constantine

elsewhere, they all adopt her constitution and use the laws and customs that she has
promulgated, and by that fact become Roman citizens. But her claim is different,
namely that she [the city of Rome] gave your mother birth, rearing her royally and as
befitted the offspring who were to be born to her.
(Iul. Or. 1.5C–​D)17

The skillfully created allegory linking Fausta and Rome is an indication that Fausta was
born in the imperial city and grew up there, emphasizing once more the dynastic potential of
the empress. After her wedding to Constantine, the sources describe Fausta as a loyal spouse,
granting her a special role in the events around her father’s death. While still very young, she
did not shrink from accepting the death of her father, uncovering a plot by Maximianus to kill
Constantine in 310.18 The conspiracy failed and the former Augustus was forced to commit
suicide. Just two years later, in 312, Constantine defeated Fausta’s brother Maxentius, who had
reigned at Rome for six years, at the Milvian Bridge, and so within a very short period Fausta
lost her father and brother. The young empress and her mother Eutropia probably lived in her
natal city of Rome from that point on.
It was four further years until Fausta bore her first child, Constantinus II, in 316,19 followed
by Constantius II in 317, Constans in 323, and in between two daughters, Constantina and
Helena the Younger, later wife of Julian. It can be assumed that Fausta lived with her children
in Rome on an estate known as domus Faustae, west of the Lateran basilica.20 This imperial
property may have been part of Maximianus’ estates and after his death of those of Maxentius.
In the vicinity were the quarters of the equites singulares, a military unit under Maxentius
(which had supported him in the civil war), that was dispersed by Constantine in 312.21 In all
probability this estate was Fausta’s residence in Rome, since she was one of the last survivors
of Maximianus’ family, along with Theodora, her (half-​)sister and widow of Constantine’s
father Constantius I, and their six children.22 A large fresco, found in a corridor, which was
added in the early fourth century to an existing structure, shows the imperial family with
Constantius I (who was already dead by that time), Theodora, Constantine, and Fausta, and
perhaps Crispus and his wife Helena.23 This was the official representation of the family for
the years between 312 and 317, the year when the little Caesares, Fausta’s children, would
have been added.24
Next to the domus Faustae was the palatium Sessorianum, where Fausta’s mother-​in-​law,
another Helena, lived. Since Severan times the palatium Sessorianum or Sessorium had been an
imperial property; it was a large complex with numerous different buildings, a race-​track, an
amphitheater, the burial site of the equites singulares, and baths, the so-​called Thermae Helenae.25
Four inscriptions were found in this area and provide an insight into the activity of imperial
women living in Rome.26 These inscriptions honor Constantine’s mother Helena for rebuilding
the public baths and the aqueduct. They term her the genetrix of the Constantinian dynasty,
as mother of Constantine the Great, and avia, grandmother of the Caesares, requiring us to
date them after 317. Furthermore, three of the four inscriptions give her the title Augusta.
Fausta and Helena both received the title Augusta in 324/​325 when Constantine’s rival Licinius
was defeated and the Roman Empire was once again in the hands of a sole ruler. Thus, the
inscriptions must date between 325 and 328 (the latter being the probable year of Helena’s
death).
With the title Augusta, Fausta and Helena also obtained the right to mint coins, though, of
course, under imperial control.27 Their images were presented as profile busts on the obverse
with the title Augusta and their name, and on the reverse the two Augustae were identified as
personifications of salus and spes, as the well-​being and hope of the Roman Empire. For Fausta

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Michaela Dirschlmayer

the aspect of hope is underlined by picturing her with children, since she fulfilled her dynastic
duty of producing heirs; Helena embodies well-​being and security as the mother of the ruling
emperor. Thus, both are presented in a traditional Roman way that had been well established
by previous empresses.
We have little information about Fausta’s life but even less about Helena’s.28 Literary
sources—​as well as scholars of our time—​agree on Helena’s low birth, her concubinage to
Constantius I, and her being the mother of Constantine. Ambrose, bishop of Milan in the late
fourth century, in his oration on the death of Theodosius I, used the following words:

They claim that she was originally the hostess of an inn [stabularia], and as such known
to the elder Constantius, who subsequently obtained imperial office […] Christ raised
her from dung to royalty, according to what is written, that He raises the poor from the
dust and lifts the needy from the dung [and later, on finding the True Cross:] The wood
shone, and grace sparkled, because just as previously Christ had visited a woman in the
person of Mary, so now the Spirit visited a woman in the person of Helen.
(Ambr. obit.Theod. 40–​8)29

Contrary to the pagan, anti-​Constantine sources, which revile Helena for her low birth,
Ambrose employs this detail to exalt her to the level of Mary. When Constantius I became
Caesar as part of the first tetrarchy, he had to leave Helena to marry Theodora, (step)daughter
of Maximianus, sometime after 293. Whether Helena remained with her son at the court of
Diocletian in Nicomedia, or later at the court of Constantine in Trier is unknown, but some-
time after the defeat of Maxentius in 312 it is most likely that she was living in a suburban villa
in Rome, the palatium Sessorianum. According to the liber pontificalis the possessions of Helena
comprised two properties, the palatium Sessorianum and the fundus Laurentus, but it is not expli-
citly stated since when, and it could be an entry dating from later times.30 Literary sources from
the late fourth century onward stress Helena’s role in finding the True Cross in Jerusalem and
her role as a founder of several churches in the Holy Land and elsewhere. By assuming the
female role next to Constantine at what had become the first Christian court of the Roman
Empire, Helena became a saint of the Christian church.
But why did Helena rather than Fausta, the young beauty who handed the helmet to
Constantine, who bore at least five children including three Caesares, assume this role? The
events in the year 326 seem to answer this question. According to Zosimus, Constantine killed
his own son Crispus (his son from his first marriage and Caesar from 317 onwards) for having
a sexual liaison with his stepmother Fausta, who therefore also met her death (in an overheated
bath).31 Zosimus’ explanation for these events seems dubious because the sexual liaison of a
stepmother and stepson is a well-​known topos of ancient literature, not necessarily a serious
explanation for the death of these two figures who, next to Constantine, were the highest-​
ranking persons of the Roman Empire. The fourth-​century author Eutropius hints at another
explanation: “But Constantine, made somewhat arrogant by his success, changed from his
former agreeably mild temperament. First he persecuted his relatives and killed his son, an out-
standing man, and his sister’s son, subsequently his wife and afterwards numerous friends.”32 The
moral decline of a ruler toward tyranny, paranoia, and violence is, unfortunately, also a topos.
Since what happened may never be clear because of lack of information,33 historians’ interpret-
ations vary and are often speculative. Some take the affair seriously, even interpreting Fausta’s
death in the hot bath as an attempted abortion.34 However, considering Crispus’ residence at the
court in Trier and Fausta’s at Rome, an affair between the two is more than doubtful. Others

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suggest that Fausta herself invented the adultery in order to strengthen the position of her
own sons in the succession.35 The elimination of Crispus, Licinianus (Constantine’s nephew),
Fausta and numerous friends could suggest the elimination of a usurpation conspiracy. In 326,
Constantine was on his way to Rome to celebrate the 20-​year jubilee of his reign (the vicennalia)
and Crispus his tenth jubilee (the decennalia). Perhaps his son expected to be rewarded with the
title Augustus or that his father might lay down the scepter after 20 years in power, the intended
procedure within the tetrarchic system.36 Instead, Crispus was stopped on his way to Rome in
Pola (today’s Pula in Croatia), and killed. Fausta’s participation in these little-​known events is
still questionable, but the erasure of her name on inscriptions implies some involvement, as does
her complete lack of mention by Eusebius in his Vita Constantini.37
Helena’s involvement in these events, mentioned in the non-​ Christian sources, is also
unknown. These sources blame Helena, grief-​stricken for her grandson, for the accusation that
led to Fausta’s death. Considering that there were two different branches of the imperial house
(the dynasty of Maximianus and his wife Eutropia, their offspring Theodora and Fausta, with all
their children; and Helena, her son Constantine and her grandson Crispus) and that, when in
Rome, Helena, Fausta, and Crispus lived next to each other, tensions could be expected.
Whatever happened, after the death of her grandson and daughter-​in-​law, Helena left Rome
and began her journey to the Holy Land:

As she [Helena] visited the whole East in the magnificence of imperial authority, she
showered countless gifts upon the citizen bodies of every city, and privately to each
of those who approached her; and she made countless distributions also to the ranks
of the soldiery with magnificent hand. She made innumerable gifts to the unclothed
and unsupported poor […]. Others she set free from prison and from mines where
they labored in harsh conditions, she released the victims of fraud, and yet others she
recalled from exile.
(Eus.V. Const. 3.44)38

Eusebius of Caesarea in his Vita Constantini, written between 337 and 339, describes
Helena’s progress through the Eastern provinces, acting as expected of an Augusta. Her grand
progress argues against the theory that the empress was exiled for intrigues at court.39 Just two
years after Licinius’ defeat and after the deaths of Fausta and Crispus, Helena was chosen to
represent her son in the Eastern part of the Roman empire and she apparently did this in a
striking way. Helena not only visited cities and soldiers, but also showed care for the poor—​a
genuinely Christian kind of action by the emperor’s mother, as Eusebius emphasizes—​and
above all she is supposed to have discovered the True Cross while building the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre.This inventio crucis is a literary construction from the second half of the fourth
century, reaching its fullest extent in the account of the Church historians.40 According to the
account of Sozomen, to single out one of them, it was Helena’s religious zeal that led her to
find the tomb of Christ and the wooden cross on which he died.41 Underneath the base of
the temple of Aphrodite, three crosses were finally found, one of which, in the presence of
Macarius, bishop of Jerusalem and the emperor’s mother, was identified by a sick woman as
the True Cross. From the nails of the cross, a helmet and harness were made for Constantine,
to protect the first Christian emperor. Helena died in about 329, at 80 years of age, perhaps
on her way back from her journey, and was buried in Rome, in the mausoleum at Santi
Marcellino e Pietro. For the next 50 years, no other imperial woman would be honored with
the title Augusta.

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Michaela Dirschlmayer

Constantina42 and Helena (the Younger)43

In 335 Constantine the Great celebrated 30 years in power (the tricennalia) and shortly after
this event he seems to have arranged for his succession. He nominated four Caesares, a similar
division of power to the system of tetrarchy: his three sons Constantinus (II), Constantius
(II), and Constans, and a descendant from the line of Constantius I and Theodora, Delmatius.
(Hannibalianus, a brother of Delmatius, was a kind of fifth member, a rex for the territory of
Armenia.)44 Matrimonial alliances continued in order to tighten the dynastic bonds: in 335
Hannibalianus married Constantine’s elder daughter Constantina.After the death of Constantine
in 337 the next generation took over the rule of the empire, but not as Constantine had planned.
Once again we do not really know what happened. In 337 descendants of Constantius I and
Theodora, among them Delmatius and Hannibalianus, were killed in Constantinople, most
likely by order of Constantius II.45 Just three years later Constantinus II died, so the Roman
Empire from now on had just two emperors, Constantius II and Constans, neither of whom
chose Rome as their residence. Milan, Aquileia, Constantinople, and Antiocheia remained their
cities of residence.
Constantina, now a widow, apparently stayed in Rome, judging by her building activity. Next
to the Via Nomentana, on the supposed gravesite of the martyr Agnes, Constantina founded an
ambulatory basilica in honor of this female martyr; the remains of the huge external wall that
leads around the coemeterium S. Agnetis are still visible today. A 14-​line inscription refers to
Constantina as the founder and to Agnes “the victorious virgin.”46 The first letter of each line, the
epigram’s acrostic, forms the two words Constantina deo, corresponding to the inscription’s first
line Constantina deum venerans christoque dicata (“I, Constantina, venerating God and consecrated
to Christ”).47 Since the third century, Roman society women had been collecting the bones of
Christian martyrs and arranging for an appropriate burial, so Constantina was acting in precisely
this early Christian “female” tradition, not just as an ordinary benefactor, but as the daughter of
the late emperor and, of course, as the sister of the reigning emperors.
The narrative about Agnes’ martyrium may have originated in fourth-​century Rome. A son
of Rome’s praefectus urbi Simphronius wants to marry the young Agnes, but she refuses this offer
because she is already promised to Christ; after her refusal she suffers martyrdom.Virgins who
dedicated their lives to Christ were an increasingly popular ideal for women in those times.
The Church Fathers also considered the univira (a woman who married only once) exemplary.
Perhaps Constantina chose Agnes to honor because, after her brief marriage to Hannibalianus,
she aimed to live a life dedicated to Christ, not as a virgin, but as univira. The mausoleum
constructed nearby, Santa Costanza, also expresses the strong connection between Agnes and
Constantina. Shortly after founding the basilica, Constantina built a mausoleum, connected
to the basilica to the south by a narthex, where she and her sister Helena (the Younger) were
buried.48
In the years between 338 and 350, Constantina’s power may have been enormous. According
to Philostorgus, a fifth-​century Church historian, Constantina intervened in political matters
after the death of Constans, during the usurpation of Magnentius in 350.49 She appointed as
Roman emperor the magister militum Vetranio, one of the most influential strategists in command
of the Illyrian army, and sent him against the usurper, with success. Philostorgus writes that she
was in a position to do so because her brother Constantine had given her the title Augusta. Since
no other literary sources, coins, or inscriptions award her the title, she probably did not have it,
but her actions still show Constantina’s influence in these events. After the defeat of the usurper,
Vetranio gave back his imperial title (voluntarily or not)50 and Constantina, failing in her aim to
remain an univira, was married again, this time to Constantius Gallus.

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Women in the family of Constantine

Gallus, Caesar from 351 to 354 and a descendant of Constantius I and Theodora, resided
in Antiocheia with his newly married wife Constantina. By choosing this place of residence
for them, Constantius II killed two birds with one stone. The couple were to represent the
imperial court in the East while the emperor was still busy in the west with the conflict with
Magnentius. Furthermore, Antioch’s distance from Rome kept Constantina far away from
where her network functioned, where she, as the daughter of an emperor, could have lived and
acted independently, without a male counterpart. On the other hand, appointing Gallus to the
position of a Caesar and marrying him to a daughter of Constantine the Great must have given
the impression of serious succession plans. Gallus moved successfully against Persian forces and
also against those who envied him this achievement. Ammianus Marcellinus, who wrote in
the fourth century, describes the brief reign of Gallus and Constantina as harsh. Through spies
Gallus and Constantina always knew what was going on, people fell victim to false accusations,
and were killed. Especially for Constantina, Ammianus uses harsh words:

To his [Gallus’] cruelty his wife was besides a serious incentive, a woman beyond
measure presumptuous because of her kinship to the emperor […] She, a Megaera in
mortal guise, constantly aroused the savagery of Gallus, being as insatiable as he in her
thirst for human blood.
(Amm. 14.2)51

Ammianus describes the cruelties committed by the imperial couple in hyperbolic detail.
Remarkably, his description puts Caesar and empress on the same level, both being blamed for
misgovernment. This is evidence of Constantina’s political influence, if not necessarily of her
personal fury.52
Ammianus (or his source) took offense at the conviction of the praefectus praetorio Domitian,
who was sent to the court of Gallus by Constantius II and was accused of conspiracy.53 Perhaps
to resolve this contentious issue, Constantina tried to meet Constantius II, but died in Bithynia
in 354; Gallus was executed shortly after her death. Constantina found her last resting place in
the church of Santa Costanza, which she had built only a few years previously.
Once again the succession of Constantius II was open, but a woman with dynastic capital
was still available: Helena the Younger. In 355 Constantius II proclaimed Julian (Gallus’ step-
brother) Caesar, dressed him in the imperial purple, and married him to Helena, “the virgin.”54
There is much to say about Constantina, but not much about Helena, her little sister. Helena
probably lived in Rome until she married Julian, after which she accompanied her husband
through the western parts of the empire, to Gaul, but also to Rome, and Paris. Their marriage
had no surviving children, although Helena gave birth to at least one child, who died soon after
birth. Ammianus focuses on her only on this occasion since he is painting a hostile picture of
the relationship between Helena and Eusebia, her sister-​in-​law. First, Ammianus reports that
Eusebia “coaxed Helena to drink a rare potion, so that as often as she was with child she should
have a miscarriage.” Second, he recounts a tale in which Helena lost a child, because the “mid-
wife had been bribed with a sum of money […] to cut the umbilical cord more than was right”
and so killed the baby.55 Ammianus is presumably simply retelling some kind of court gossip, but
the passage does indicate rivalry between the two women. If we contextualize this within the
family structure, this strife probably had its roots in the two rival lineages.56 Helena was now, as
the wife of Julian, a part of the Constantius I—​Theodora line, the one that faced elimination
in 337. This continuing struggle clearly found its expression when, in 360, the troops, in the
presence of Helena, proclaimed Julian, the last surviving descendant of the line of Constantius

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Michaela Dirschlmayer

I and Theodora, as Augustus in Paris. In the same year Helena died and was buried next to her
sister in Rome.

Eusebia (the aftermath)57

With the deaths of Constantina and Helena the Younger, the two last female descendants of
Constantine the Great were gone, leaving behind Constantius II as his last son, who had since
353 been married to Eusebia. In the case of Eusebia, literary sources from three different points
of view are available, enabling the possibility of a multi-​layered picture of the empress. Zosimus
describes her in a positive way as a highly educated and wise woman who persuaded her hus-
band to appoint Julian as Caesar;58 Eusebia’s support for the new Caesar, who changed course
in religious matters, is not in doubt. Zosimus is one of the last pagan writers and Julian was
the last pagan Augustus, so this is no surprise. Julian himself provides us with a panegyric on
the empress, composed in 356/​357, with the main purpose of thanking her for her support.59
In this speech he stresses female exempla, citing well-​known exemplary women drawn from
the Homeric world, especially Penelope, wife of Odysseus.60 Penelope’s virtue, according to
Julian, is marked by faithfulness to her husband, support for his decisions, stewardship over his
domains during his absence, and her behavior as a woman of virtue when suitors pursued her.
Thus Julian, grateful for her support and her fostering of his position, paints an idealized pic-
ture of the empress. Ammianus generally confirms this picture of a good consort and advisor,
portraying their partnership as exemplifying the ideal of Concordia, but he also, as we have seen,
describes her malicious side, in her treatment of Helena.61 In describing Eusebia as an ideal
consort of the emperor, Ammianus constructs an opposing image to the negative ideal picture
of Constantina—​the “Megaera.” For Constantina, too, the role of counselor is emphasized but
in a contrary way: her advice was misleading and overambitious, and ended up bringing in a
cruel reign.
We can presume Eusebia’s death simply from the date of Contantius II’s next marriage in 360/​
361; thus she died at nearly the same time as Helena the Younger. Roman empresses have one
thing in common: we rarely know their year of birth and seldom their year of death. Ammianus
offers some last words on the empress: she was “a lady distinguished before many others for
beauty of person and of character, and kindly in spite of her lofty station, through whose well-​
deserved favor (as I have shown) Julian was saved from dangers and declared Caesar.”62 After
just seven years at the side of a Roman emperor, Eusebia left remarkable footprints in literary
sources, as Constantina did too.

Conclusion
Just one generation after the tetrarchic women Galeria Valeria, Theodora, and Fausta, about
whose lives only snippets are known, imperial women found different ways to become more
visible. Helena represented her son Constantine on her journey to the eastern provinces, a hith-
erto unknown action by an imperial woman that was required by the special circumstances.
Then, due to the absence of an emperor in Rome, Constantina took over the “matronage” of
building a church for a female martyr; beyond this, she strengthened the position of her hus-
band Gallus in the East. And finally Eusebia assumed the “patronage” role in fostering the next
emperor. With these imperial women the position of the Roman empress changed, pioneering
new paths for the next generations.

470
 newgenrtpdf
471
DIOKLETIAN (284305)∞ Prisca

Eutropia ∞ 1. Afranius Hannibalianus

GALERIA VALERIA ∞ GALERIUS 2. MAXIMIAN

(308–311) (305–311) ?

CONSTANTIUS CHLORUS ∞ 1. (concubine) HELENA (324328) CONSTANTIUS CHLORUS ∞ 2. Theodora

CONSTANTINE I THE GREAT (306337) MAXIMIANUS (286305) ∞ Eutropia Hanni- Dalma‰us Julius Constana Anastasia Eutropia

Women in the family of Constantine

∞ 1. Minervina balianus Constan‰us
1.Galla∞2.Basilina

2. FAUSTA Maxen‰us ∞ VALERIA Maximilla ∞ LICINIUS (308324)

471

Crispus (317326) ∞ Helena

Licinianus Licinius (317324/6?)

CONSTANTINUS II (337340) Delma‰us (335337)

CONSTANTIUS II (337363) ∞ Eusebia

Hannibalianus

(335337)

Constanna ∞ 1. (335)
∞ 2. (351) Constan‰us Gallus (351354)

CONSTANS (337350)

Helena (the Younger) ∞ (355) JULIAN (361363)

Figure 38.1 Genealogical chart of the family of Constantine. Dates are regnal dates
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Michaela Dirschlmayer

Notes
1 For an overview of the Constantinian dynasty, closely interwoven with the tetrarchic families, see the
genealogical chart at the end of this chapter (Fig. 38.1); due to the quantity of publications, especially
concerning Constantine I and Helena, the literature taken into account is not exhaustive and focuses
on recent publications in order to present the current state of research; late antique literary sources are
abbreviated according to the PLRE.
2 Explicitly mentioned in Eutr. 9.22.1; for imperial women in tetrarchic times see recently Chen
2018: 42–​82 as well as James 2013: 93–​112; Harris 2012: 257–​8; Clauss 2002: 340–​5.
3 PLRE 1 Galeria Valeria, 937; Barnes 1982: 38.
4 Lact. Mort. Pers. 15.1 (sacrifice); 39.2 (escaped to Maximianus’ court); 41.1 (exiled to the Syrian desert);
51.1–​2 (beheaded).
5 James 2013: 106. “Valeria served as a device for Lactantius to criticize Maximinus.”
6 PLRE 1 Anastasia 1, 58.
7 PLRE 1 Constantia 1, 221.
8 For Constantia see Anon.Val. 5.13; Lact. Mort. Pers. 43.2. Licinius and Constantia were already engaged
in 311, one of the reasons (in the account of Lactantius) for Maximinus Daia to ally with Maxentius.
For Anastasia see Anon. Val. 5.14; Barnes 1982: 37 dates the marriage of Anastasia and Bassianus to
the year 316 while Hillner 2017: 61 suggests 315, when Constantine was celebrating the decennalia
in Rome.
9 Anon.Val. 5.17.
10 Anon.Val. 5.28; Aur.Vict. Epit. 41.7; Zos. 2.17.2.
11 Eutr. 10.6; Barnes 1982: 45 proposes that Licinianus’ death happened at the same time as his father’s.
12 PLRE 1 Fl. Maxima Fausta, 325–​6.
13 For panegryrics in Constantinian times see recently Omissi 2018: 41–​67; for imperial women in
panegyrics, see Wieber 2010: 254–​257.
14 Pan. Lat. VII (VI) 6. 1–​2.
15 Pan. Lat. IV (X) 36.3–​5.
16 See detailed discussion in Barnes 1982: 34. He prefers an earlier date around 289/​290, but most recent
publications assume Fausta’s birth date was around 290; for references see note 18.
17 Translation from Wright 2014: 12–​15.
18 Lact. Mort. Pers. 30; Eutr. 10.3; Zos. 2.11.
19 PLRE I Fl. Maxima Fausta, 326 suggests Fausta had a role as stepmother not only to Crispus but also
to Constantine II, in opposition to Barnes 1982: 44–​45; for a short discussion, see Harris 2014: 203–​4;
the large gap between marriage and the birth of the first child supports the argument that Fausta was
a young age when she married Constantine, see for instance Drijvers 1992a: 502; Potter 2009: 146;
Hillner 2017: 62.
20 The domus Faustae: Scrinari 1991: 136–​222; Harris 2014: 203; Hillner 2017: 63–​5.
21 Drijvers 2016: 148.
22 For the land tenure, see Curran 2000: 93–​6.
23 PLRE I Helena 1, 409.
24 For the mural painting of the fourth century see Scrinari 1991: 136–​61, and on the epigraphic evi-
dence and composition of the plates see 162–​73; McFadden 2013: 83–​114 and Hillner 2017: 64 with
new interpretation.
25 For the possession of Helena, see Hillner 2017: 67; Drijvers 2016: 147–​53; Dirschlmayer 2015: 43–​6
and Angelova 2015: 131–​9.
26 CIL VI 1134;VI 1135;VI 1136;VI 36950.
27 On how the virtues that dominated the coins of the Roman period were resumed in the late antique
era, see Brubaker and Tobler 2000: 572–​94, especially 575–​8 for Fausta and Helena; some new aspects
concerning the coinage of the two Augustae are approached in Centlivres Challet and Bähler Baudois
2003: 269–​80, Longo 2009: 97–​129, Angelova 2015: 90–​2.
28 PLRE I Fl. Iulia Helena, 410–​11; for a new biography see Hillner forthcoming.
29 Translation from Liebeschuetz 2005: 198–​9.
30 Liber pontificalis XXXIIII, XXVII; Curran 2000: 94.
31 Zos. 2.29.2.
32 Eutr. 10.6; translation from Bird 1993: 66.

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Women in the family of Constantine

33 Drijvers 1992a: 504–​6; Woods 1998: 71–​86; Potter 2009: 137–​54; Olbrich 2010: 104–​16.
34 Woods 1998.
35 Olbrich 2010; Potter 2009: 152 asks if Constantine’s decision to move his court to Constantinople was
the main reason for Crispus opposing his father and suggests that Fausta may have fostered this position.
36 For the coincidence of these dates see Clauss 2002: 353; for Crispus’ imperial residence and journeys,
Barnes 1982: 83–​4; and for Constantine’s stay in Rome at the end of July and his stay in Split in
September, Barnes 1982: 77.
37 For a discussion of these inscriptions see for example Drijvers 1992a: 501; 1992b: 49; Hillner 2017: 66;
for a numismatic documentation and interpretation of the events in 326, see R.-​Alföldi forthcoming.
38 Translation from Cameron and Hall 1999: 138, 295 (with a commentary and further literature).
39 For discussion of the controversial opinions on this subject as well as her journey to the Holy Land and
her church foundation see Dirschlmayer 2015: 32–​52.
40 Drijvers 1992b: 119–​45; 2011 presents a detailed discussion of the inventio crucis.
41 Soz. HE 2.1.
42 Omissi 2018: 189 tends to deny Constantina’s influence.
43 PLRE I Helena 2, 409–​10.
44 Mosig-​Walburg 2005: 229–​54 gives a profound insight into the position of Hannibalianus.
45 For a detailed analysis, see Di Maio and Arnold 1992: 167–​8.
46 ICUR IIa 44–​5.
47 For a general overview about the Coemeterium S. Agnese and the female epitaphs see Trout 2014: 214–​
34, with an English translation of the verse; about the legendary conjunction between the empress and
Agnes see especially Jones 2007: 115–​39; Curran 2000: 128–​9 emphasizes the importance of the place
for the ruling Constantinian dynasty.
48 For Constantina’s presence in Rome and Antioch, and her description in the literary sources and
church foundations see Dirschlmayer 2015: 52–​67 with further literature and summary.
49 Philost. HE 3.22.
50 Bleckmann 1994: 29–​68 and Drinkwater 2000: 131–​59 both discuss this point; Clauss 2002: 359
suggests a peaceful solution.
51 Translation from Rolfe 1950: I, 5.
52 Wieber-​Scariot 1999: 74–​195 is a detailed study of a female discourse especially for Constantina in
Ammianus’ Res Gestae; Günther 2000: 60–​1 takes Ammianus’ description of Constantina’s behavior in
Antiocheia not as a transgression from female to male but as one towards bestial behavior.
53 Philost. HE 3.28.
54 Amm. 15.8.80.
55 Amm. 16.10.19; translation from Rolfe 1950: I, 253.
56 Murder by poison and infanticide in the literary sources are addressed in Wieber-​Scariot’s examination
of Ammianus Marcellinus and the presentation of imperial women in his oeuvre, see Wieber-​Scariot
1999: 238–​48; Clauss 2002: 362.
57 PLRE I Eusebia, 300–​1.
58 Zos. 3.1.2.
59 Iul. Or. 3; see Tougher 1998: 105–​23 for a detailed examination of the text and James 2012: 47–​60 for
new interpretation.
60 Thoroughly researched by Wieber 2010: 257–​69.
61 Tougher 2000 discusses Eusebia’s “split personality” and concludes that Ammianus’ positive picture of
Eusebia is a result of his assessment of her brothers and that the author himself is the one “who emerges
a split personality” (Tougher 2000: 100).
62 Amm. 21.6.4; translation from Rolfe 1950: II, 119.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and collections of documents not listed here are those used by the
Oxford Classical Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

ICUR Inscriptiones Christianae Urbis Romae

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Michaela Dirschlmayer

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Harries, J. 2014. “The Empresses’ Tale, AD 300–​360.” In C. Harrison, C. Humphrees, and I. Sandwell (eds.),
Being Christian in Late Antiquity: A Festschrift for Gillian Clark. Oxford, 197–​214.
Hillner, J. 2017. “A Woman’s Place: Imperial Women in Late Antique Rome.” Antiquité tardive, revue inter-
nationale d’histoire et d’archéologie 25: 75–​94.
Hillner, J. forthcoming. Helena Augusta. Women in Antiquity. Oxford.
James, L. 2012. “Is There an Empress in the Text? Julian’s Speech of Thanks to Eusebia.” In N. Baker-​Brian
and S. Tougher (eds.), Emperor and Author: The Writings of Julian the Apostate. Swansea, 47–​60.
James, L. 2013. “Ghosts in the Machine: The Lives and Deaths of Constantinian Imperial Women.” In
B. Neil and L. Garland (eds.), Questions of Gender in Byzantine Society. New York, 93–​112.
Jones, H. 2007. “Agnes and Constantina: Domesticity and Cult Patronage in the Passion of Agnes.” In
K. Cooper and J. Hillner (eds.), Religion, Dynasty, and Patronage in Early Christian Rome, 300–​900.
Cambridge, 115–​39.
Liebeschuetz, J.H.W.G. (trans.) 2005. Ambrose of Milan: Political Letters and Speeches. Translated Texts for
Historians, vol. 43. Liverpool.
Longo, K. 2009. Donne di Potere nella tarda antichita. Le Auguste attraverso le Immagini Monetali. Reggio
Calabria.
McFadden, S. 2013. “A Constantinian Image Program in Rome Rediscovered: The Late Antique
Megalographia from the So-​called Domus Faustae.” Memoirs of the American Academy in Rome 58: 83–​114.
Mosig-​Walburg, K. 2005. “Hannibalianus Rex.” Millennium 2: 229–​54.
Olbrich, K. 2010. “Kaiser in der Krise –​religions-​und rechtsgeschichtliche Aspekte der ‘Familienmorde’
des Jahres 326.” Klio 92: 104–​16.

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Omissi, A. 2018. Emperors and Usurpers in the Later Roman Empire: Civil War, Panegyric, and the Construction
of Legitimacy. Oxford.
Potter, D. 2009. “Constantine and Fausta.” In P.B. Harvey Jr. and C. Conybeare (eds.), Maxima Debetur
magistro Reverentia: Essays on Rome and the Roman Tradition in Honor of Russel T. Scott. Biblioteca di
Athenaeum 54. Como, 137–​53.
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PART VII

Reception from antiquity

to present times
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39
SEMIRAMIS
Perception and presentation of female
power in an Oriental garb

Brigitte Truschnegg

Introduction
Focusing on aspects of female power, this chapter will seek to define the characteristics of
Semiramis as an important literary figure in classical sources from the fifth century BCE
(Herodotos) to the fifth century CE (Orosius). The varied depictions of Semiramis have been
affected by each author’s individual perspective on Assyrian history, the quality of the sources
used in each case, and, not least, by each of these authors’ cultural backgrounds and views on
gender issues. I will show that different cultural elements and gender performances were moved
in different streams of tradition, each interpreting Semiramis in their own way. The steadily
increasing emphasis on her negative moral qualities illustrates the mounting uneasiness of the
classical tradition about the performance of a female Assyrian ruler, who did not fit the political
and social norms of either Greece or Rome. This uneasiness could be responsible for the con-
sistent presentation of Semiramis with alien, “Oriental” stereotypes of luxury and promiscuity.
Current discussions of Semiramis deal with the historical background and/​or the literary
aspects of the legend, as well as the cultural and historical context of the sources. There are
those who are skeptical about the importance of the historical figure in the background,1
but there are also scholars who support the view that there is a deeper historical Assyrian
background for Semiramis.2 It is unclear how much the Greeks knew about the historical
figure of Sammu-​ramat, but the similarity of the names is hardly coincidental.3 Semiramis
became an object of interest to scholars of the ancient Near East and classical history more
than 100 years ago.4 Her status as one of the ancient “exceptional women” was of particular
interest at the time.5 Certain aspects and the perception of the legendary Semiramis (e.g. the
hanging gardens of Babylon) have been discussed before.6 Her effect as a sort of “role model”
for the presentation of subsequent rulers (e.g., Alexander the Great who reportedly emulated
her (and Kyros II) on his march through the Gedrosian desert) have also been investigated in
recent years.7 Recently, scholarly debate on the subject has turned from the 1970s discourse
on Semiramis as an “exceptional women” into a topic discussed in terms of gender issues and
roles.8 A recent study focused on the gender performance of Sammu-​ramat and of the literary
figure of Semiramis.9 Semiramis also appears to serve as a basis for transmitting Greek and later
Roman ideas of power, rulership, and femininity.

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Semiramis in the classical sources

Classical sources from the fifth century BCE to the fifth century CE narrate the story of an
Assyrian queen named Semiramis and depict her in various ways. The textual evidence is not
easy to assess: the various texts belong to different literary genres and the classical authors write
about Semiramis in the context of their perspectives on Assyrian history, influenced by their
primary sources, their specific cultural backgrounds, and, not least, by their views on gender
issues and female power. Current research has investigated a cross-​section of these aspects, but a
longitudinal section, so to speak, is better able to visualize recurrent narrative elements.This has
been successfully presented in a recent study that completed a detailed contextualization of the
Classical sources with an analysis of important narrative patterns (Erinnerungsbausteine literally
“memory building blocks”) on Semiramis in the longue durée.10 How do the classical sources on
Semiramis deal with female power and how does their representation change over time?

Aspects of female power

The classical sources depict Semiramis in the diverse situations of royal female life: as a ruling
queen, as a general, as the wife of a king, and as the mother of the next king. Semiramis’ power
is expressed, on the one hand, in public political space (as queen and in terms of rulership, mili-
tary expansion, and building projects where she broke political norms) and on the other hand
in social space (motherhood, promiscuity), where she breaks social norms.

Ruling an empire and building monuments

Two narrative elements representing public political space appear in almost all descriptions of
Semiramis and form a constant basis for the various forms of the story: her role as female ruler
and her building projects. And it is Herodotos who lays the foundation for this.
In the middle of the fifth century BCE, Herodotos introduces Semiramis into classical lit-
erature as one of two queens who ruled over the Babylonians (1.184). As a further detail of her
rulership, he mentions that she has created amazing dams on the plain of Babylon that pro-
tect the land from flooding. A gate named after Semiramis indirectly refers to further building
projects of hers in the city (3.155).11 From this time onwards, the classical sources present
Semiramis as a ruler who initiated impressive construction projects.
The most detailed story about Semiramis is based on Ktesias of Knidos (fourth century
BCE) and handed down by Diodoros in the first century BCE (2.4–​2.20), who stresses the
following aspects: after Ninos’ death, Semiramis ruled the Assyrian Empire, founded the city of
Babylon, and built streets, tunnels and palaces (e.g. Ekbatana).12 She is admired both as a great
builder (for instance, the Bisutun relief was ascribed to her) and as a ruler.
The importance of prestigious building projects for the image of a ruler may be seen in the
short comment on Semiramis by Berossos the Babylonian, at the beginning of the third cen-
tury BCE. Berossos criticizes the existing historical tradition on Semiramis (Jos. c.Ap. 1.20) and
depicts his favorite kings Nebuchadnezzar and Nabonid as initiators of numerous important
buildings at Babylon. He thus adapts history to his personal interests and denies Semiramis the
fame that went with these achievements.
Geographical works from the time of the early Roman Empire also deal with the queen
and her building activities. At the beginning of the first century CE, the Greek geographer
Strabon describes her as the wife of king Ninos and mother of his successor. He presents her
as a successful builder of various monuments that are shown in Babylonia and beyond in her

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empire (Strab.16.1.2). He depicts her as the founder of Babylon (2.1.17)13 and as a constructor
of walls (11.14.8: Opis) and mounds (12.2.7: Zela; 2.1.17 and 16.1.2).14 In the first century CE,
the Roman geographer Pomponius Mela (De chorographia libri tres) presents a positive image
of Semiramis that is primarily based on her qualities as a ruling queen (1.63).15 Under her
reign, Syria was at the top of its power. She is described as an excellent ruler, who founded
Babylon and built an artificial water system (1.63): “Her works certainly have many distinctive
characteristics: two in particular stand out: Babylon was built as an city of amazing size, and the
Euphrates and Tigris were diverted into once dry regions.”16
The Roman Historian Quintus Curtius Rufus, who wrote a history of Alexander the Great,
probably in the second half of the first century CE, reflects in several passages on the admiration
Alexander had for the achievements of Semiramis.17 Semiramis is described as the founder of
Babylon, a city whose beauty is explicitly named (5.1.24); she appears as a constructor of various
monuments (9.6.23); and she was adored for her admirable deeds and her fame (7.6.20). Also in
the first century CE, Pliny the Elder offers some short comments on Semiramis in his extensive
work Naturalis Historiae, focusing in particular on her qualities as a founder of various cities (he
names Melita in Kappadokia, Arachosia, Abaisamis and Saraktia) and as a builder of monuments
(altars in Sogdiana).18
The Roman historian Suetonius in the second century CE mentions Semiramis in his
biography of Julius Caesar, at a point when Caesar is faced with criticism that he is acting like
a woman (Iul. 22.2). Suetonius describes her female rulership positively, although he clearly
ascribes it to Asia and thus as far distant from Rome.
It is not until the second century CE that classical sources demonstrate a need to explain female
rulership. Arrian mentions Semiramis first in passing when he reports that it was common in Asia
that women ruled over men (Anab. 1.23.7).19 He confirms the existence of the rulership of women
over men and his comment characterizes this rulership as an exceptional aspect of a foreign society,
one which has to be addressed.20 He does not report anything on Semiramis’ construction activity.
At the end of the fourth century CE, a detailed narrative on Semiramis again enters the histor-
ical tradition. Once again, female power as reigning queen and building activities are combined
to form a positive picture. Marcus Junius Justinus’ Epitome historiarum Philippicarum is a condensed
compilation of the lost Historiae Philippicae by the Augustan historian Pompeius Trogus.21 It is
very likely that Justin’s dependence on Trogus is responsible for the “revival” of a more detailed
narrative about Semiramis. As the wife of King Ninos, Semiramis played a central role in the
Assyrian government. Justin ascribes the founding of Babylon and the construction of the famous
city walls to Semiramis. And, like Arrian, Justin has to explain Semiramis’ regency. However, he
does not blame “Asian customs” for it, but a trick of the extraordinary Semiramis. According to
Justin, Semiramis did not dare to take over the rulership on her own or to give it to her young
son after her husband’s death. Neither did she expect that a woman would be accepted as a ruler
of the empire. She therefore disguised herself as a man. Wearing long garments and a turban on
her head, she pretended to be her son (1.2.1).22 With this explanation, Justin indicates that for
his readership, a queen as an absolute ruler would have been unthinkable even for Assyrians (a
strange and faraway people). After she has been very successful politically, Semiramis lays down
her male costume and reveals herself to her people as a woman. Her reputation was not reduced
by this: “a woman surpassing not only women but men, too, in manly achievement!” (1.2.6)23
Rather casually, the story ends with the remark that her son killed her because she desired him.
Christian literature takes up this explanation of female rule, but paints a negative idiom of
the Assyrian ruler. At the beginning of the fifth century CE, Paulus Orosius from Bracara in
Portugal wrote the first Christian universal history, Historiae adversum paganism, a work in seven
volumes.24 Published in 416–​417/​418, it begins with the fall of mankind (1.1.4) and starts with

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the king who built the first great empire, the Assyrian Ninos.25 That Justin was a major source for
his work is well demonstrated by the passage dealing with Semiramis.26 This passage shows both
strong parallels to, as well as remarkable differences from Justin, especially in the areas of ruler-
ship, sex-​change, conquests, and building activities. Orosius narrates that Semiramis started her
public performance as a man: “She had her husband’s spirit and took on his son’s appearance.”27
But, in contrast to Justin, she is characterized very negatively by Orosius.This is not because she
is a woman, since her husband was, according to Orosius, a “bloodthirsty” and “greedy” man and
Semiramis is declared to have surpassed her husband in this regard. It is her sex life in particular
that Orosius describes as licentious and unnatural: “This woman, ablaze with lust and thirsting
for blood, lived amid an unending fornication and murder” (1.4.7).28 She killed all her lovers
and “on illicitly conceiving a son, she vilely exposed him. Then, when she learned that she had
indulged in incest with him, she covered her personal disgrace by inflicting this crime on all
her people” (1.4.7).29 The political and military ability of Semiramis, which Justin rated rather
positively, Orosius treated negatively. The Christian author stresses the bad moral qualities and
the bloodthirstiness of the foreign queen. This negative characterization quite overshadows her
building activities in Babylon, which she made the capital of her empire.30

Leading an army
Leading an army is another aspect of female power in the public sphere and Semiramis is not
only described as a reigning queen and a builder of famous buildings, but she also leads mili-
tary campaigns with cleverness and great drive and successfully enlarges the Assyrian Empire.31
Like her rulership, Semiramis’ military successes were not questioned in the Greek and Roman
sources for a long time and often are mentioned only briefly.
According to Ktesias (apud Diod. Sic. 2.6.5–​9), who is the first to mention the military qual-
ities of Semiramis, these already played a role in her time as wife of Ninos. During that time,
Semiramis supported him in the war against Baktria. After Ninos’ death Semiramis expanded
the Assyrian Empire and conducted military campaigns against distant countries (Aithiopia,
India: Diod. 2.13–​14, 16–​20). She also started a well-​prepared campaign against the Indian King
Stabrobates. Even though both parties had to withdraw from the battle, she is reported to have
fought bravely.
In the first century CE, Strabon completes this list of military campaigns with Semiramis’
crossing of the Gedrosian Desert (15.1.5–​6). However, according to him, Semiramis died before
she could start her campaign on India (15.1.6). Quintus Curtius Rufus picks up this topic in
his passages on Alexander’s admiration for the deeds of Semiramis. In a speech to his army,
Alexander emphasizes that Semiramis subjugated people (5.1.24), and appeals to his soldiers not
to lose their ambition before they have reached the same fame as this woman. Following the
same tradition as Strabon, Arrian agrees that Semiramis died before she could start a military
campaign to conquer India (Ind. 5.7), but reports (referring to Nearchos) that she successfully
crossed the Gedrosian desert (Anab. 6.24.2).
Probably due to his source Pompeius Trogus, Justin again picks up the Indian campaign and
reports Semiramis’ military activities in Ethiopia and India, attesting that she turned out to be a
very skillful military leader (1.2.7). As with previous observations on Semiramis’ rulership and
building projects, the evaluation of her character—​more positive (Justin), respectively more
negative (Orosius)—​dominates the depiction of her campaigns. According to Orosius, she even
surpasses her greedy and bloodthirsty husband in the military field: “This woman […] crushed
Aithiopia in war, drenched it in blood […] At that time hunting down and slaughtering peoples
who lived in peace was a more cruel and serious matter than it is now” (1.4.5–​6).

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Preliminary results on aspects of female power in the public space

Since Herodotos, aspects of female power in the public space (rulership, building projects, army
leadership) have been recurrent narrative elements in the description of Semiramis, independent
of the literary genre and the scope of the stories handed down. Apart from a few exceptions, all
texts mention these three components, which were clearly seen as positive until the first cen-
tury CE. It was not until the second century CE that, for the first time, there was felt to be a
need to explain the regency of a woman. In the sources of the fourth and fifth centuries CE,
narrative elements attributing negative moral qualities to Semiramis move to the foreground of
the descriptions.
The most important result of this overview is that the female power in the public space attested
for Semiramis does not differ in its representation from male power in the public space. The
only difference is that a woman exercises it. This is particularly highlighted by the texts naming
Semiramis as a model for Alexander III: successful expansion and crossing of the Gedrosian
desert (Strab.15.1.5, 2.5; Arr. Anab. 6.24.2) and honoring her as a ruler over Syria (Suet. Iul. 22.2).
That the walls of Babylon could be perceived as a monument for eternal memory is emphasized
by a passage in Dionysios of Halikarnassos about the legendary king Servius Tullius (Dion.Hal.
Ant. Rom. 4.25.3–​4). The project appears to be unsuitable for Servius Tullius, as it only serves to
heighten the reputation of a single person and not the welfare of many.
When, according to Curtius Rufus, Alexander III told his soldiers to remember the fame of
a queen, he was playing, on the one hand, with Semiramis as a positive role model (7.6.20), and
on the other hand, with the idea that men should surpass women (9.26.23). Julius Caesar also
turns the accusation of behaving like a woman into a positive one by presenting Semiramis as a
positive role model (Suet. Iul. 22.2).
The positive image of Semiramis during the first century CE, which had been based on her
rulership and activities, developed even further, even making her a role model for men.

Female power in the social space

Semiramis’ power in the social space is described in the sources above all when Semiramis fails
to observe standards for female behavior as a queen, wife, mother, and woman and becomes
subject to moral assessments.

An Assyrian queen and “mundus muliebris”

A remarkable passage on Semiramis by Valerius Maximus dates from the first third of the first
century CE. His Facta et dicta memorabilia is the oldest complete collection of exempla in the Latin
language.32 The passage on Semiramis in book nine (­chapter 3: “De ira aut odio”), starts with a
reference to the Punic general Hannibal as a child (Semiramis is referred to in the following as
“Samiramis”).33

Such was the force of hate in a boy’s heart, but in a woman’s too it was no less potent.
Samiramis, queen of Assyria, was busy doing her hair, when news came that Babylon
had revolted. Leaving one half of it loose, she immediately ran to storm the city and
did not restore her coiffure to a seemly order before she brought it back into her
power. For that reason her statue was set up in Babylon showing her as she moved in
precipitate haste to take her vengeance.
(Val. Max. 9.3, ext. 4)34

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This is the only mention of Semiramis in the whole of Valerius’ collection of almost 1000
exempla.35 Here, Semiramis is put into a typical female environment, practicing a typical female
activity. She is staying in her private rooms, taking care of her appearance. She is located exactly
where women are supposed to be according to the so-​called mundus muliebris; she had only left it
for a short period to fulfill her rulership and military commitments and then returned to caring
about her appearance again!36 The presentation of her as an Assyrian queen depends mainly on
the Greek sources, but the image also corresponds to the cultural background and the current
gender concerns of the Roman texts.
Her active reaction and her immediate campaign against the revolting city can be considered as
a hallmark of typically male behavior. However, even though she acts swiftly and successfully, she
reaps little positive attention for it. It is the manner in which she reacts to the report of the rebellion,
which exposes her—​in the presentation of Valerius Maximus—​as a typical female. Not wise con-
sideration, but quick-​tempered anger characterizes her abrupt reaction. Semiramis is driven by her
emotions, a severe character deficiency for both genders, from a Roman point of view. However,
lack of control of emotions is described primarily as characteristic of women.37 Valerius Maximus
emphasizes her undue haste by her unfinished, inappropriate hairstyle for a public appearance.

Semiramis under moral judgment—​motherhood, promiscuity

and stereotypes
Semiramis mainly survived in Roman literature as an exemplum of outstanding female behavior,
which had different values in different contexts. As a female ruler, she did not fit into the
Roman worldview. The increasing emphasis, perceptible from the second century onwards, on
her moral qualities clearly demonstrates the growing uneasiness of the Roman authors about
the gender-​crossing performance of this Assyrian queen.
From the first century CE onwards, the sources refer with increasing frequency to Semiramis’
origin from the “East,” using this circumstance to explain her extraordinary position, power, and
behavior.The Roman History of Cassius Dio (second/​third century CE) can be seen as a turning
point in the evaluation of Semiramis. The Assyrian queen explicitly serves as a negative role
model for Iulia Domna, the mother of the Roman Emperor Caracalla. According to Cassius
Dio, Iulia Domna was accused for trying to rule on her own and alone (79.23): “how she might
attain the imperial position rendering herself the peer of Semiramis and Nitocris, since she
came in a way from the same regions as they.”38 The passages in Arrian and Justin explaining
to the audience why a woman can rule in Assyria have already been discussed. Together they
depict the strangeness of Semiramis.
An exceptional passage in Pliny the Elder fits in with this. Pliny focuses in particular on
Semiramis’ qualities as a founder of various cities and then he reports one quite outstanding
aspect. In book 8 of Naturalis Historiae, which deals with the nature of horses, Pliny (referring to
the Numidian king Juba) reports that Semiramis loved her horse so much that she had sex with
it (8.64, 155).39 However, after this stunning announcement, Pliny gives no further comment
on her behavior. The passage seems primarily intended to demonstrate the estimation of the
horse and only in a secondary capacity highlights an abnormal sexual activity. It appears that the
image of the Assyrian queen was already linked with abnormal sexual practice so closely that
the passage needed no further explanation.
This is emphasized in the fourth century CE by the single passage in Ammianus Marcellinus
recording foreign customs demonstrating immoral behavior. Ammianus Marcellinus carries on
the image of Semiramis as a negative role model and uses her as a mirror for Roman society.
He accuses “Samiramis” of being the one “who was the first of all to castrate young males, thus

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doing violence, as it were, to Nature” (14.6.16–​17).40 While criticizing the decadent behavior
of Roman nobles in Roman bathhouses, Ammianus Marcellinus reports that Semiramis was
overwhelmed with flatteries by her people, just as the Roman nobles were overwhelmed with
flatteries by prostitutes in the Roman bathhouse (28.4.9).41 With regard to gender issues, it is of
great interest that a powerful female figure acting in a typical male sphere for decades is made
responsible for the instigation of a custom that emasculates men (castration).The fact that Ninos
is defined as her husband (and not the other way around: 23.6.22) is possibly the only reflection
to the strong position that is generally ascribed to Semiramis after her husband’s death.
The portrayal of Semiramis by Justin begins very promisingly with her founding Babylon,
the construction of the famous city walls, and her successful military activities in Ethiopia and
India. But this success story does not have a happy ending. According to Justin, Semiramis
developed an “unnatural” desire for a sexual relationship with her son, Ninyas. He did not resist,
but slayed her after their affair was revealed (Just. 1.2.10).The death of the Assyrian queen is not
glorious, in contrast to her military and political achievements. The fact that her son, according
to Justin, did not act like a man at all, that he lived like a woman together with other women,
appears to be a result of the incorrect gender behavior of his mother:

Her son, Ninias, was content with the empire built up by his parents and completely
abandoned military activity. Further, almost as if he had exchanged sex with his
mother, he was rarely seen by men and he grew old surrounded by women.
( Justin, 1.2.11)42

Her illicit sexual lifestyle is emphasized here. Her “criminal passion” for her son forces
him to kill her. In this way, she is responsible for her own death and for the fact that her son
committed matricide. Even after her death, she appears to be responsible for the further devel-
opment of Ninyas, who is not interested in extending the empire (in contrast to his mother)
and who prefers to live the life of a woman (among women) that she never lived. According to
Justin she failed terribly, both as a wife and as a mother. Her deeds as a female ruler, founder,
and military leader are obscured and overpowered by her negative characteristics such as her
greed for power and viciousness.
At the beginning of the fifth century CE, Paulus Orosius intensifies the negative evaluation
of Semiramis. He shows strong parallels with, as well as remarkable differences from, Justin
in the aspects of Semiramis’ rulership and sex-​change. Paulus Orosius, quoted above (1.4.7),
describes the sex life of Semiramis as especially licentious and unnatural. It is obvious that these
passages are influenced by the tendency to condemn war and by Christian moral standards of
behavior, especially in sexual life. Semiramis suffers from a lack of shame (pudicitia) and a lack
of chastity (modestia), two typical virtues expected of Roman women. She is bloodthirsty and
is able to force men to follow her will, in contrast to the ideals of a Roman/​Christian woman.
Various lovers are the victims of female sexual violence. This sounds like the exact antithesis
of the descriptions of some male rulers in Roman sources. At least the incestuous relationship
with her son documents the climax of sexual misbehavior for which she paid with her life, and
her son with matricide. Beyond that this atypical sexual behavior fits in perfectly with Orosius’
intention of putting the barbarians at the service of the narrative by using stereotypes of trad-
itional historiography.43
If we look at the representation of Semiramis in various sources over the centuries, the
legendary queen starts out with a fairly positive image, but is defamed more and more as a sinful
and vicious woman, greedy for power, with an unnatural sexual lifestyle and an unacceptable
way of life.

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Conclusion
Narrative patterns in the reception of the Assyrian queen move along in the stream of tradition
from the fifth century BCE to the fifth century CE, each layer of narrative interpreting the
figure of Semiramis in its own way. Different literary genres, various cultural contexts, a number
of primary sources, and the author’s own perspective all affect the purpose of the text. Against
the background of numerous investigations into these aspects, the long-​term view provides the
opportunity to compare the textual sources in order to uncover patterns of female power.
With the depiction of Semiramis as ruler and successful builder, in the fifth century BCE
Herodotos introduced two basic elements of female power in the public space into the represen-
tation of Semiramis. All traditions on the Assyrian queen until late antiquity mention these two
narrative elements. They remain influential, independent of the cultural and historical back-
ground of the respective source. In the first century CE, the rulership of a woman needs
explanation for the first time. Arrian and the later author Justin find different ways to explain
Semiramis’ rulership. However, Semiramis’ military activities are not called into question.
The classical sources present Semiramis with female power, but in “male action.” Female
power does not differ in its representation from male power in public space. In any case, the
appearance of an authoritative female figure also connects with the construction of female
power: all literary traditions can be seen as constructing and evaluating female power in
public space.
Semiramis’ power in social space is characterized by Semiramis exceeding social norms. Her
behavior as a queen, wife, mother, and woman becomes subject to moral assessments. In the
classical sources, Semiramis survived particularly as an exemplum of outstanding female behavior
that had different values in different contexts. As a female ruler, she does not fit into the Greek
and Roman idea of female behavior. The passage in the exempla of Valerius Maximus contrasts
the traditional ideas of the Assyrian queen with the ideals of the daily life of a Roman matrona.
Narratives dealing with female power displayed in social space increasingly emphasized
both the queen’s origin from the “East” and her “bad” or unusual sexual behavior sup-
posedly characteristic of the “East.” The increasing emphasis on her (negative) moral qualities
demonstrates the growing uneasiness of the authors about the unusual gender performance
of this Assyrian queen. The moral criticism of Semiramis as an authoritative and promiscuous
woman and a bad mother plays a crucial role in the classical sources and became markedly
stronger over time.

Notes
1 E.g., Rollinger 2010; Lanfranchi 2011: 175–​223; Kuhrt 2013: 6133–​4; Bichler 2014: 55–​71; Heller
2015: 331–​48.
2 E.g., Pettinato 1988; Dalley 2005: 11–​22. On historical archetypes for the legendary Assyrian queen, see
Frahm 2001: 377–​8.
3 See Rollinger 2010: 385; Novotny 2002: 1083–​5; Weinfeld 1991: 99–​103.
4 Lehmann-​Haupt 1901/​1902 and 1918; Hommel 1921; Lenschau 1940: 1204–​12; Schramm 1972: 513–​
21; Dietrich 1989: 117–​82; Fuchs 2008: 61–​145, esp. 74–​5; Siddall 2013.
5 For the idea of exceptional women as a phenomenon of “andro-​normative” historiography, see Asher-​
Greve 2006: 324.
6 Bichler and Rollinger 2005: 153–​217; Rollinger 2008: 487–​502; Rollinger 2010; Dalley 2013.
7 Bichler 2014; Szalc 2015: 495–​507; Nearchos, BNJ 133 F 3a/b = Arr. An. 6.24.3; Strab. 15.1.5. For a
current compilation of the history of research see Droß-​Krüpe 2019.
8 Bleibtreu 1992: 57–​72; Comploi 2000: 223–​44; Melville 2004; Dalley 2005: 11–​22; Asher-​Greve 2006;
Svärd 2015: 49–​51; Svärd 2014: 17–​23.
9 Svärd and Truschnegg forthcoming.

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10 Droß-​Krüpe 2019: 1–​124. In addition, Droß-​Krüpe offers a detailed and up-​to-​date compilation of
the relevant research literature on Semiramis.
11 The second one was named Nitokris and lived five generations later than Semiramis (Hdt. 1.185).
Herodotos describes her as cleverer than Semiramis and as a great builder: she diverted the river
Euphrates in order to better protect Babylonia and also created a huge lake above Babylonia to allow
navigation. On women in Herodotos, see Bichler 2000: 80.
12 For a detailed discussion of all passages on Semiramis by Diodoros, see Stronk 2017: 86–​121.
13 Her husband Ninos dedicated the foundation of Ninive as capital city in (As)Syria (Strab. 2.1.17).
14 Strab. 11.14.8; 12.2.7, 3.37.
15 On the close connection of the mythical past and outstanding female behavior, see Rollinger
2000: 209, n. 84.
16 Translation from Romer 1998 (cf. Rollinger 2000).
17 How far his presentation is related to the Greek sources and to what extent it is related to his positive
presentation of Alexander himself, see Comploi 2013.
18 Also see Plin. HN 6.8; 6.49; 6.92; 6.145. On women in Pliny the Elder, see Vons 2000.
19 Günther 2002: 437 points out that for Arrianus, Semiramis embodies an “Oriental” type of ruler. The
passage is dealing primarily with the Karian queen Ada.
20 Günther (2002: 436) characterizes Arrianus’ understanding of gender roles as a simple one: “Dass bei
Arrian also ein sehr schlichter, holzschnittartiges Verständnis der Geschlechter vorliegt.”
21 In contrast to earlier studies, which dated the epitome into the second or third century CE, more
recently—​because of the specific nature of the text as a breviarium—​a more plausible date in the fourth
century CE has been suggested, see Schmidt 1999; Emberger 2015: 11.
22 Translation from Yardley 1996.
23 On the narrative of Semiramis in Justin see Comploi 2002, esp. 338–​9.
24 See van Nuffelen 2012.
25 Eigler 2000: 53–​4; Fear 2010: 15.
26 This strengthens the point of Eigler 2000: 53 who stated: “He appears to have made particular use of
the world history by Pompeius Trogus in Justin’s Epitome.This is also certainly the source of his classifi-
cation of the course of history into four empires (Babylonian, Macedonian, Carthaginian and Roman).”
27 Translation from Fear 2010: 15.
28 “haec, libidine ardens, sanguinem sitiens, inter incessabilia et stupra et homicidia.”
29 Van Nuffelen 2012: 128 notes that Orosius was fascinated by women overstepping the limits of
their sex.
30 “Semiramis, his wife and ruler of Asia, rebuilt the city of Babylon and decreed that it should be the
capital of the Assyrian kingdom” (2.2.1). See also 2.2.5, 3.1.
31 Bichler 2014: 55–​8 pointed out that Semiramis was seen in competition with great male conquerors.
32 Written late in the reign of the Emperor Tiberius, it offers almost 1000 exempla, that is, moral anecdotes,
in nine books. The nine books are divided into different categories, including exempla domestica and
exempla externa. The examples in general represent more or less outstanding human behavior, almost
exclusively drawn from the upper classes. On the exempla of Valerius in the framework of situation
ethics, see Langlands 2011: 100–​22.
33 All the other exempla externa in that chapter present men as military leaders. The story of Semiramis
thus perfectly fits here and gains additional importance by contrasting military matters with the female
morning toilette.
34 Translation from Shackleton Bailey 2000 (Loeb).
35 This episode is reported first by Valerius Maximus and later by Polyainos (8.26).
36 On the continuity of this theme in visual arts see Asher-​Greve 2006: 344–​5.
37 When one remembers the beginning of the passage referring to Hannibal, who acts angrily and full of
hate as well, it is also probably understood as behavior typical of non-​Romans. Nonetheless, one must
recall that the famous Punic general is described when a child not as an adult. However, a child in an
angry temper tantrum is not a very flattering comparison for Semiramis.
38 For general remarks on women in the Roman History of Cassius Dio, see Schnegg 2006: 259–​60.
39 For the narrative in detail and its reception, see Droß-​Krüpe 2019: 102–​7.
40 Translation from Rolfe 1950–​8 (Loeb).
41 Günther 2000.
42 Translation from Yardley 1996.
43 Yardley 1996: 176.

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Acknowledgments
This chapter benefits from a presentation given at the 9th Melammu Conference in Helsinki/​Tartu 2015
in cooperation with Saana Svärd (Helsinki) on “Sammu-​ramat and the figure of Semiramis—​Reflections
on Gender.” The author would like to thank Saana Svärd, Robert Rollinger, and Sebastian Fink for valu-
able hints and Stefanie Hoss for improving the English of the paper.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works, and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Ancient sources
Fear, A.T. (trans.) 2010. Orosius: Seven Books of History against the Pagans. Liverpool.
Rolfe, J.C. (trans.) 1950–​8. Ammianus Marcellinus: Res Gestae. Cambridge, MA and London.
Romer, F.E. (trans.) 1998. Pomponius Mela’s Description of the World. Ann Arbor.
Shackleton Bailey, D.R. (ed. and trans.) 2000. Valerius Maximus: Memorable Doings and Sayings. Cambridge,
MA and London.
Yardley, J.C. (trans.) and Develin, R. (intr. and notes) 1996. Justin: Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius
Trogus. Atlanta.

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40
TANAQUIL AND TULLIA
IN LIVY AS ROMAN
CARICATURES OF GREEK
MYTHIC AND HISTORIC
HELLENISTIC QUEENS
Judith P. Hallett and Karen Klaiber Hersch

In fond memory of Larissa Bonfante (1931–​2019)

Introduction
This chapter analyzes Livy’s representation of Tanaquil and Tullia, wives of Tarquinius Priscus
and Tarquinius Superbus—​Rome’s fifth and seventh Etruscan kings respectively—​in Book One
of his Ab Urbe Condita, maintaining that they are Roman caricatures of Greek mythic and his-
toric, both earlier and contemporary, Hellenistic queens. We argue that Livy depicts these two
women as embodying the negative aspects of Etruscan rule in early Rome by focusing almost
exclusively on their political ambitions and behind-​the-​scenes maneuverings. Their conduct,
we contend, is meant to underscore, for Livy’s Augustan-​era audience, the dangers inherent
in hereditary monarchic government, especially the opportunities it offers female kin of male
rulers to exercise unaccountable control over the Roman state.
Furthermore, we observe that Livy’s portrait of these two women as exercising formid-
able political influence, albeit only by exhorting and promoting their male family members to
assume the actual responsibilities of Roman rule, omits key details about Tanaquil attested in
other ancient sources.The information that Livy excludes permits a more complex and nuanced
understanding of how Romans of his milieu would have viewed Tanaquil and her contributions
to Roman culture, among them her positively charged associations with fertility, healing and
wool-​working as well as divination.We will first, however, explore resemblances between Livy’s
portrayal of Tanaquil—​as the supernaturally knowledgeable wife of Tarquinius Priscus and
“maternal” advocate of the lowly-​born outsider Servius Tullius—​and two depictions of Greek
royal women, one mythical and the other historical: Iokaste, wife and mother of Oidipous in
Sophokles’ Oedipus Rex, and Olympias, mother of Alexander the Great, in Plutarch’s life of her
son. Similarly, we will look at how Livy’s description of the equally ambitious but far more mor-
ally corrupt Tullia—​whom he identifies as wife of Rome’s last Tarquin king, daughter-​in-​law
of Tanaquil, and mother of the arrogant prince whose rape of the noblewoman Lucretia ended

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Judith P. Hallett and Karen Klaiber Hersch

Rome’s monarchy—​recalls characterizations of Klytaimnestra in Greek and Roman tragedy,

and of Kleopatra VII in Roman literary and Greek historical sources.1
We will additionally consider how Vergil’s depiction of Dido in his Aeneid not only recalls
Livy’s representation of Tanaquil but also seeks to warn his readers about the disastrous down-
side of female monarchic power, at the same time recognizing key differences between Dido
and Tanaquil in their relationship to the responsibilities of royal rule. Finally, we will reflect on
how Livy’s portraits of Tanaquil and Tullia may have influenced Roman governmental practice
from the Augustan era onwards. Although the Julio-​Claudian principate accorded a great deal of
unaccountable political power to the wives and mothers of successive principes such as Augustus’
wife Livia and great-​granddaughter Agrippina Minor, it never assigned women formal and offi-
cial roles as rulers or regents for future rulers.
Before undertaking our analysis of how, and why, Livy likens these two, legendary women
married to Etruscan kings to earlier female figures from Greek mythic and historical Hellenistic
royal houses, we need to acknowledge challenges posed by our ancient sources. Sheila L. Ager
argues that Livy’s depiction of Tullia as well as earlier Hellenistic accounts may have influenced
the representation of a Greek royal couple from the second century BCE—​Antiochos VIII
Grypos and Tryphaina—​by Livy’s contemporary, the history writer Gnaeus Pompeius Trogus,
and/​or Trogus’ later epitomizer Justin.2 Ager’s findings raise the possibility that other, later
authors writing about earlier Hellenistic royal women may similarly have drawn upon Livy’s
portraits of Tullia and Tanaquil to illustrate female abuse of political power under monarchic
rule. Ager’s essay additionally prompts us to ponder whether other historians writing in Livy’s
own, Augustan era also represented certain women from Hellenistic regal families as negative
examples of what monarchic rule of Rome might entail.
Livy himself may have been drawing on earlier Hellenistic historical accounts. Fanny Cailleux
has compared the king-​making tactics of Tanaquil and Tullia with the efforts of Damarata, who
talked Adranadorus into seizing power in Syracuse in 214 BCE.3 Livy himself is our source for
this episode, at 24.22.1; he may well have meant to recall his own depictions of these two early
Roman female kingmakers even if he had simultaneously relied on other, earlier, Hellenistic and
Roman accounts. Livy may even have alluded to the behavior of Etruscan women in his own
day. John Hall postulates that Livy may have patterned his depiction of Tanaquil at 1.34–​47 on
the Etruscan matriarch Urgulania, friend and confidant of Livia.4 It is, of course, also possible to
explain the resemblances between Livy’s portrayals of Tanaquil and Tullia and the later Plutarch’s
depiction of Olympias, discussed below (p. 494), by positing Livy’s influence on Plutarch and
assuming that Plutarch is drawing on earlier Hellenistic historical accounts. Whatever Plutarch’s
sources, he and Livy appear to be communicating similar messages about women’s misappro-
priation of regal power. Whether or not any historical basis exists for what Livy reports about
Tanaquil and Tullia is another matter entirely.5

Livy’s Tanaquil, Sophokles’ Iokaste and Plutarch’s Olympias

Admittedly, Livy’s description of Rome’s first female “ruler” Tanaquil differs from Sophokles’
portrayal of Oidipous’ wife—​and mother—​Iokaste in major regards. One dissimilarity is lin-
guistic. Livy twice refers to Tanaquil with the noun regina, “queen,” each time in depicting her
efforts at king-​making. At 1.39.2, he uses the word regina when relating that Tanaquil restrained
a slave who attempted to extinguish the flames bursting from the head of a child residing
in the royal palace, Rome’s future ruler Servius Tullius, apparently because she recognized
these bursts of fire as portending Servius’ political greatness. At 1.39.5, Livy calls Tanaquil the
“Roman queen” (regina Romana) when stating that she rescued the boy’s mother from slavery.

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Tanaquil and Tullia in Livy

Significantly, Tanaquil is the first woman referred to as regina by Livy, and the only woman so
described in Book I. Other Augustan authors, as we shall observe, use the noun regina for such
foreign female monarchs as the legendary Carthaginian Dido and the historical Hellenistic ruler
Kleopatra VII.6
English translations of Sophokles’ Oedipus Tyrannos occasionally refer to Oidipous’ wife and
mother Iokaste with the word “queen.”7 But in fact the Greek text does not refer to Iokaste
with nouns elsewhere applied to women who wield royal power in the way that Livy labels
Tanaquil with regina, their Latin equivalent. At OT 579, however, Iokaste’s brother Kreon asks
King Oidipous if he rules the land of Thebes on an equal basis with her; Oidipous replies in 580
that she “has everything she wants from him.” Kreon’s characterization of Iokaste’s political role
in Thebes points to a second major difference between these two female literary figures. Livy
does not depict Tanaquil as sharing or even as interested in sharing royal rule and regal duties
at Rome, either with her husband, King Tarquinius Priscus, or with his successor and her own
protégé, Servius Tullius.
Rather, Livy represents Tanaquil as chiefly engaged in anointing and appointing, without
the formal authority to do so: identifying each man as destined for royal rule; then influencing,
indeed goading, both to pursue lofty political ambitions of their own, and successfully ensuring
that each achieves those goals.8 Livy relates that, since the Etruscans [in the city of Tarquinii]:

socially scorned [Tanaquil’s husband], as the offspring of a foreign exile, she was unable
to bear this indignity, and having forgotten her inborn affection for her fatherland,
provided that she might see her husband publicly esteemed, she conceived the plan of
emigrating from Tarquinii.
(1.34.4–​7 )

Livy then claims that Tanaquil convinced Tarquin to do so by characterizing Rome as a place
“where high political status was acquired quickly and on the basis of excellence,” and which
had welcomed earlier kings from other places, concluding that she “easily convinced a man
desirous of political advancement and for whom Tarquinii was only his mother’s fatherland”
(facile persuadet ut cupido honorum et cui Tarquinii materna tantum patria esset). What is more, Livy
states, when they arrived in Rome, after an eagle alighted on her husband’s head, she quickly
removed and replaced his cap as if to crown him, relying on her skill at interpreting prophecies
to tell her husband to hope for a high and exalted position (excelsa et alta sperare).
So, too, Livy depicts Tanaquil as publicly misrepresenting her husband’s death as merely a
serious injury, and similarly inspiring Servius Tullius to seize royal power after Tarquin’s murder:

After Servius had been hastily summoned, when she had shown him her husband,
almost lifeless, holding his right hand she begged that he not allow the death of
his father-​in-​law to go unavenged, and that he not allow his mother-​in-​law to be a
laughing stock to her enemies. “The kingdom is yours,” she said, “Servius, if you are a
man, and does not belong to those who have committed this most disgraceful crime
through the hands of others. Raise yourself up and follow the gods as your leaders,
for they once signaled that this head of yours would be renowned by the heavenly
flame poured around it. Now let that heavenly flame spark you, now truly proceed
onward. Although we are foreigners, we also reigned. Reflect on who you are, not
where you were born. If your plans are paralyzed in this sudden crisis, you should
follow my plans.”
(1.41.2–​4 )

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Yet Livy’s Tanaquil resembles Sophokles’ Iokaste in enabling men who are outsiders to attain
power and legitimate their political control.Tanaquil does so as an outsider herself in facilitating
her husband Tarquin’s rise to power, but as an insider in securing the royal rule of Servius Tullius.
To be sure, she does not empower or legitimate the latter through marrying him and bearing
his children, as does Iokaste. But she adopts a maternal role toward him; Iokaste, of course, is
also Oidipous’ biological mother. And the skills at foretelling the future attributed to Tanaquil
by Livy call to mind Iokaste’s own claims of expertise when dealing with prophets and their
predictions in Sophokles’ tragedy. She provides what she represents as her own, authoritative
interpretation of the oracle who reported to her late husband Laius that he would die at his own
son’s hands (OT 707–​25); the words Sophokles later assigns her, dismissing oracles as a waste of
time, reaffirm her interpretative authority (OT 848–​59).
Olympias’ facilitation of the political efforts by two outsiders from Macedonia—​first her
husband Philip and then her son Alexander—​to reign supreme in the Greece of their day also
warrants comparison with the role that Livy assigns to Tanaquil.9 Moreover, Plutarch (Alex.
2.2) relates that Olympias dreamed, on the night before her marriage was consummated, that
a thunderbolt fell upon her womb, kindling fire that burst into wide-​traveling flames, and was
then extinguished.10 The similarities between the details of Olympias’ dream, predicting her son
Alexander’s brilliant if brief career of military conquest, and the scenario that Livy’s Tanaquil
supposedly interpreted as portending the young Servius Tullius’ glorious political future, merit
notice.
So does Plutarch’s statement (Alex. 2.4), that Olympias’ husband Philip ceased sleeping at
her side, fearing she might deploy magic spells and charms against him. While Plutarch imme-
diately explains Olympias’ putative efforts to exercise supernatural powers as conduct common
among Thrakian women addicted to Orphic rites and Dionysian orgies, he refers to her ecstatic
practices, among them providing fellow female revelers with serpents which terrified male
onlookers, as wild in the extreme. Plutarch (Alex. 3.3) also relates that Olympias may have
imparted to Alexander, when he set out on his ambitious conquests, her special “secret”: that
the god Apollon, in the form of a serpent, had impregnated her with him.
Plutarch’s portrayal of Olympias later in his biography underscores that scheming and
deception, like the devious ruses employed by Tanaquil in ensuring the succession of Servius
Tullius, were integral to Olympias’ political intervention. He quotes examples from a letter she
wrote to Alexander, begging him to find less generous ways of favoring those he loved without
entirely depriving himself of resources (Alex. 39.5). Plutarch then adds that Olympias often
corresponded with him in this manner, but Alexander almost invariably kept her writings secret.
As we have observed, Tanaquil only “anoints and appoints” her husband Tarquinius Priscus and
surrogate son Servius Tullius, and does not intervene in their decision-​making. But her involve-
ment in choosing the men who obtain and wield political power allows her to control Rome’s
future in two important instances.
Livy’s portrait of Tullia bears certain resemblances to Plutarch’s characterization of Olympias
as well. Plutarch (Alex. 2.1) represents the marriage of Olympias to Philip, like Tullia’s second
marriage to Tarquinius Superbus, not as a parentally negotiated arrangement but a genuine love
match. In addition, both Olympias and Tullia do not merely encourage their male kin to pursue
political power but relentlessly pressure them to that end.
Similarities between the bloodthirsty, scheming behavior of both women and the con-
duct of their sons warrant attention too. Plutarch (Alex. 10.4) relates that both Olympias and
Alexander were alleged to have been involved in the murder of Philip; Plutarch then observes
that Alexander was merely angry at Olympias when, as Pausanias reports (8.7.5), she had Philip’s
infant son and his mother Kleopatra killed after Philip’s death. Livy blames Tullia not only for

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the deaths of her first husband and her own sister, so that she could wed her sister’s more ambi-
tious spouse, but also for the death of her own father, so that her new husband could seize polit-
ical power (1.46.5–​9). His statement leaves no doubt about where he feels culpability lies: “but
the starting point of stirring up all things arose from the woman” (sed initium turbandi omnia a
femina ortum est—​1.46.7). And he portrays Tullia’s son Sextus Tarquinius, presumably fathered by
her second husband, as raping the noble matron Lucretia after threatening to kill her, murder
a male slave, and place his naked body by her side as proof that she had been killed because of
shameful adultery (1.58.4).
Strikingly, Livy depicts Tullia as identifying with Tanaquil herself. Indeed, he portrays her as
obsessed with Tanaquil’s earlier successes at spurring both Tarquinius Priscus and Servius Tullius
to seize political power, as envious that she herself had not been as successful, and as sharing
both her envy and obsession with her husband as she goaded him:

She stirred up the young man by faulting him with these and other charges, nor was
she herself able to rest easily if, although Tanaquil, a woman of foreign birth, had,
by virtue of her determination, been able to bring it about that she bestowed two
successive kingships, on her husband and then on her son-​in-​law, whereas she, born
from royal stock, was making no headway in bestowing and ending a kingship.
(1.47.6 )

As noted earlier, we contend that Livy seeks to remind his Augustan audience of the dangers
inherent in allowing the women of Augustus’ household to exercise unaccountable political
control under a new mode of governance, monarchic in all but name.Yet is plausible that Livy
is also critiquing political developments in the late republic that helped cause and create the
conditions of Augustus’ rule. Perhaps his representation of Servius Tullius as an “outsider” and
a “new face” on the Roman regal political scene, and of Servius’ daughter Tullia as trying to
wield regal power through her husband, is meant to recall another member of the gens Tullia,
the “new man” Marcus Tullius Cicero, and his aggressive mode of insinuating himself into the
late Roman republican power structure, facilitated through marital alliances he engineered for
his own daughter.11

Livy’s Tullia, Klytaimnestra and Kleopatra

Like the mythic Greek queen Klytaimnestra in both Greek and Roman tragedy, Livy’s Tullia
has her husband killed for the political benefit of her lover, whom she then weds.12 No less
important, both Tullia’s lover and subsequent husband Tarquinius Superbus and Klytaimnestra’s
lover and subsequent husband Aigisthos are close kin to the men murdered. Their female lovers
represent both Aigisthos and Tarquin the Proud similarly, as having been unjustly deprived
of their inherited political due by those men.13 In Aiskhylos’ Agamemnon, Aigisthos does not
even appear on stage until line 1577, after Klytaimnestra’s husband has been murdered. Yet
Klytaimnestra’s words about Aigisthos a hundred lines earlier in the play, as well as Aigisthos’
own speech when he enters, characterize the murder of Agamemnon as vengeance for the
slaughter of Aigisthos’ brothers, fed to their father Thyestes by Agamemnon’s father Atreus. At
1.45.4–​5 Livy’s Tullia refers to her husband, in his role as son of Tarquinius Priscus, as entitled to
the Roman throne currently possessed by her own father Servius Tullius.
Unlike Tullia, of course, Klytaimnestra is murdered by her own son Orestes, who also slays
Aigisthos. Livy relates that Tullia was merely forced into political exile as a result of the rape
of Lucretia by her son Sextus Tarquinius, who had forced Lucretia to submit by threatening

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her with murder and posthumous disgrace (1.59.13). But earlier Livy represents Tullia’s own
goading of her second husband with the phrase muliebriis furiis, “furies characteristic of a
woman” (1.47.7). He also portrays her, not their son himself, as pursued by hostile furies much
as Aiskhylos depicts Orestes in the Libation Bearers and Eumenides. Livy relates that Tullia “is said
to have driven her carriage over her father’s body, crazed, with the furies of her sister and her
husband driving her” (quo amens, agitantibus furiis sororis ac viri, Tullia per patris corpus carpentum
egisse fertur—​1.48.7); later, he depicts her as surrounded by “men and women cursing her wher-
ever she went and invoking the furies of her ancestors,” when fleeing into exile (exsecrantibus
quacumque incedebat invocantibusque parentum furias viris mulieribusque—​1.59.13). Earlier in that
same chapter, Livy may be alluding to the avenging furies when stating that Brutus invoked the
gods who avenge parents (invocatique ultores parentum di) in his speech rousing the Romans to
expel the Tarquins after the rape and suicide of Lucretia (1.59.10).14
Livy’s diction describing Tullia also calls to mind a celebrated portrayal of a Hellenistic queen
whose abuses of royal power, and harmful influence over legitimate Roman political leaders,
must have been fresh in the memories of his readers: Kleopatra VII of Egypt, lover of both
Julius Caesar and Mark Antony. As Livy’s depiction of Tullia itself emphasizes, the two women
have a great deal in common.Tullia’s desecration of blood and marital relationships through her
involvement in the deaths of her own sister and father, Servius Tullius, and of her first husband,
resembles Kleopatra’s alleged involvements in the murder of her own brothers, one of whom,
Ptolemy XIV, was also her husband, and indeed that of her own sister Arsinoë IV.15
Specific echoes of Horace’s language depicting Kleopatra (Odes 1.37, probably written soon
after Kleopatra’s death in 30 BCE, and hence, in all likelihood, shortly before the first book of
Livy’s history) resound in Livy’s description of Tullia.16 The echoes deserve close scrutiny. Most
notably, in the final lines of the poem (1.37.31–​2), Horace describes the triumph of Octavian,
the future Augustus, a public spectacle in which Kleopatra refused to participate by taking
her own life. He refers to it with the adjective superbo, “proud,” and to Kleopatra herself with
the litotic phrase non humilis, meaning the same thing. Superbus is, of course, an adjective for-
mally, and traditionally, applied to Tullia’s husband Tarquinius. One might, of course, interpret
its appearance here as primarily critical of Augustus. Yet its close proximity to a synonymous
expression used for Kleopatra creates an association between her and superbo too, prefiguring
Livy’s characterization of the arrogant and entitled Tullia as no less deserving of this pejorative
term than her husband.
Horace (Odes 1.37.12) describes Augustus as having diminished Kleopatra’s madness (minuit
furorem), continuing his representation of “the queen” as “preparing mad ruins” (regina dementes
ruinas—​1.37.7). As we have indicated, Livy represents Tullia as both driven and cursed by furies
(furiis), and, with amens, an adjective kindred to demens, as crazed. Horace’s characterization of
Kleopatra (Odes 1.37.29) as ferocior, “more than ordinarily fierce” once she had premeditated her
suicide, may be echoed by Livy’s reference (1.46.6) to Tullia as ferox when goading her husband;
his claim about Kleopatra’s “daring” with the word ausa (1.37.25) by Livy’s use of audaciam and
audacia for Tullia in the same chapter; his reference to Kleopatra’s palace (1.37.25) as regiam by
Livy’s domus regia (1.47.4); his use of the adjective contaminato for Kleopatra’s “herd” of eunuchs
in her retinue (grege turpium morbo virorum; 1.37.9) by Livy’s reference to Tullia (1.48.7) as
contaminata by her father’s blood. Horace, as critics have underscored, elicits a certain amount of
sympathy for Kleopatra in his representation of how Augustus pursued her, and how she refused
to allow Augustus to humiliate her.17 Livy, however, portrays Tullia as utterly unsympathetic. But
such is Livy’s political agenda: implying the danger that women like Tullia, once given free rein
to pursue their ambitions for their male kin, posed to the Roman state.

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A more complex Tanaquil: the evidence of other Roman and

Greek authors
Livy’s political agenda likewise seems to account for his decision to omit information about
Tanaquil provided by other ancient Roman and Greek sources. Through his unwavering focus
on her manipulative king-​making, and on her role as a regina fulfilling certain functions of a rex,
he fails to acknowledge the range of her cultural associations and the complexity of her image
in his own day.18 Even though many of the texts postdate his own Augustan era, the details they
furnish about her would seem to have been familiar to Romans of earlier times. Nevertheless,
Livy differs from our other major narrative source about Tanaquil, the Augustan antiquarian
writer Dionysios of Halikarnassos, who represents her as not merely anointing and appointing
two Roman kings, but actually exercising political power in the way that male rulers do.19
The Augustan poet Ovid, when recounting the origins and rituals of the goddess Fortuna’s
feast day, portrays Tanaquil as an agent of divine fertility, overseeing the physical conception of
Servius Tullius himself from the seed of the god Vulcan.20 Ovid relates that:

the temple [of Fortuna] had burned: nevertheless fire spared the statue of Servius
Tullius: the metalworking god himself brought aid to his son. For Vulcan was the father
of Servius, and his mother was Ocresia of Corniculum, outstanding in her beauty. After
customary sacred rites had been performed with Ocresia,Tanaquil ordered her to pour
wine on the decorated hearth. Among the ashes was—​or appeared to be—​the male
organ not to be mentioned in public: but it was actually there. The captive woman,
ordered by Tanaquil, sat on the hearth: Servius, conceived by her thus has seeds of a
race from heaven. His sire Vulcan then signaled his paternity when he touched his
head with blazing fire, and in his hair there burned a cap of flame.
(Fast. 6.625–​36)

What is more, the elder Pliny, writing in the first century CE, quotes the first-​century BCE
writer Varro to associate Tanaquil with innovative wool working as well as female and male fer-
tility. He notes:

Marcus Varro is the authority that the wool on the distaff and spindle of Tanaquil, who
was also called Gaia Caecilia, was still preserved in the temple of Sancus; and also in the
shrine of Fortune a pleated royal robe made by her, which Servius Tullius had worn,
and from there arose the practice that maidens about to be wed were accompanied by
an adorned distaff and a spindle with thread. Tanaquil was the first to weave a straight
tunic of the kind that men wear with the plain white toga and newly married brides.
(HN 8.194)

Several decades later Plutarch gives two answers to the question of why Romans, as they con-
duct the bride to her home, order her to say, “Where you are Gaius, there I am Gaia.” The
second answer is:

because [of] Gaia Caecilia, wed to one of Tarquin’s sons, a fair and virtuous woman
whose bronze statue stands in the temple of Sanctus [sic].21 And both her sandals and
her spindle were in ancient times dedicated there as tokens of her love for her home
and domestic activity.
(Mor. 271e)

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Admittedly, Plutarch does not identify Gaia Caecilia as Tanaquil; and Tanaquil was wed to the
first Tarquin king, not his son.Yet the elder Pliny’s earlier claim that Tanaquil was also known as
Gaia Caecilia and possessed weaving equipment that was still in the temple of Sanc[t]‌us, would
suggest that she was not only the woman to whom Plutarch refers but honored by a bronze
statue as well.
The moralistic writer Valerius Maximus, writing prior to Pliny in the first third of the first
century CE, helps confirm the identity of Tanaquil as Gaia Caecilia, and as associated with both
wool working and brides:

Gaia is famous for one use above all, since they say that Gaia Caecilia, the wife of
Tarquinius Priscus, was the best wool worker and as a result the custom was instituted
that when young brides were asked what they were called outside their husband’s
door, they would say that they were Gaia.
(10.7 )

Finally, the second-​century CE grammarian Festus illuminates the Latin noun praebia
(amulets) by observing:

[the early imperial grammatical authority] Verrius again says that these implements of
healing are called praebia, which Gaia Caecilia, wife of Tarquinius Priscus, is thought to
have invented, and to have mixed them into the genital area, the woman whose girdled
statue is in the temple of Sancus, the god who is called dius fidius [“god of oaths”]; and
from its genital area those in physical difficulties take scrapings.
(276 L)

He thereby provides more details about her statue in the temple of Sancus mentioned by
Plutarch, chief among them her association with the invention of gynecological remedies, pre-
sumably for infertility, a condition which scrapings from that statue were thought to have
helped heal.
Nevertheless, it warrants attention that Dionysios’ account of Tanaquil’s role in regal Roman
rule, diverges from Livy’s in important ways. While Dionysios denies her any involvement in
her husband’s decision to move to Rome, he adds a lengthy tale of her crucial intervention
in the story not only of the conception and birth of Servius Tullius, but also of his princely
rearing and accession to the kingship (3.47.4–​5). He assures us, too, that she bore multiple
royal princes and princesses, and elevates her to the exalted status of orator not merely by
assigning her many more speeches than Livy does, but even by placing in her mouth one of
the longest speeches delivered by a female character in his Roman Antiquities. Dionysios there-
fore resembles Livy in highlighting Tanaquil’s political activities, including the speechifying
ordinarily viewed as a male prerogative, as well as pursuits traditionally expected from the
wives of kings, such as facilitating reproductive success by women in her care and giving birth
to numerous offspring herself.
Curiously, since Tanaquil is said to have defied cultural norms in Rome by both prophesying
and assuming certain royal functions, one would expect her to be vilified in Roman history. But
as this evidence from other sources documents, she was never maligned until the time of Tacitus.
Rather, she was commemorated and celebrated in a variety of rites and monuments. Where
Livy does portray her in a negative light is in his depiction of Tullia, who misuses Tanaquil’s
example and perverts her legacy. Livy and Dionysios both steer their readers to the conclusion
that Tanaquil’s deeds were remarkable, and ultimately acceptable, because they arose from a

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tradition of Etruscan female leadership paired with divinely granted supernatural abilities. But
a second powerful Etruscan queen on the throne of Rome, who possessed no talents other
than frenzied, bloodthirsty ambition, recalling the most troubled and troubling female rulers of
Greek mythology and Hellenistic history, is shown to be unacceptable.

Vergil’s Dido, Greek mythic and historical queens, and Livy’s Tanaquil
Livy’s first book is widely thought to have antedated Vergil’s Aeneid, perhaps by as much as a
decade; the poet had not yet completed the epic to his satisfaction when he died in 19 BCE.22
We therefore have good reason to assume that Vergil may be seeking to recall Livy’s regina
Tanaquil in his representation of Dido, who is frequently referred to with the noun regina. Both
Tanaquil and Dido demonstrate prophetic skills and cultic expertise. Both are foreign; Dido
is not only not a Roman, but also a refugee from Phoinikia to Carthage; Tanaquil is similarly
an exile, albeit by choice.23 Both women consequently call to mind royally born spouses from
other locales exogamously wed to Greek—​and mythic Trojan—​males belonging to monarchic
houses, such as Homer’s mythic Andromache and Helen and including the historical Olympias
and her daughter-​in-​law Roxana. Several such women are portrayed as improperly intervening
in the political and military decision-​making of their husbands.24
Dido, however, suffers in ways that Tanaquil does not. Although she is initially able to
handle the demands of political leadership after being widowed by Sychaeus, she falls to
pieces when abandoned by Aeneas, and as a result can no longer carry out her official duties.25
Vergil, perhaps as a result of what he himself had witnessed in the conduct of Kleopatra after
the death of Mark Antony, thereby implies that royal women cannot function without royal
men. Indeed, Livy depicts both Tanaquil and Tullia as fortunate not only in the opportunities
they have to influence several different men—​husbands, fathers, sons, and son surrogates—​
but also in their ability to rely on these men to handle the realities and demands of actual
political rule.

Foreshadowing Julio-​Claudian women

Previous scholars have examined similarities between Tacitus’ account of how Livia dealt
with the death of Augustus in 14 CE, long after Tanaquil and Tullia lived, and Livy’s Book
1, describing how Tanaquil handled the royal succession at her own husband Tarquin’s death.
Richard Bauman has argued that Livy revised Book I of his Ab Urbe Condita shortly after
Augustus’ death so as to represent Tanaquil’s conduct as closely resembling that of Livia.26 He
maintains that Tacitus not only portrays Augustus’ death accurately, but may also have drawn
on Livy’s veiled depiction of Livia’s conduct in Book I. More likely Tacitus’ account of how
Livia handled her husband’s death and handed Roman rule over to her own son is based on
Livy’s account of how Tanaquil managed to secure royal power for her surrogate son and pro-
tégé Servius Tullius, upon the death of her husband. Whatever the relationship between these
two accounts, both testify to the opportunities afforded the wives of autocratic, unaccountable
rulers for controlling the Roman state when their husbands died, even if they themselves were
not capable of handling the actual duties of political leadership.

Conclusions
In conclusion, Livy caricatures both Tanaquil and Tullia, her aspiring successor in queenship,
as merely a species of female political operative—​if not as female political animals—​so as to

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illustrate just how narrowly the Romans escaped from being ruled, or at least co-​ruled, by
manipulative women during the regal period. He neglects to share other details about how they
are represented in other sources, and in Tanaquil’s case represented reverentially, in sharpening
his focus on their pursuit of power. And, whether or not he saw the women of Augustus’
household as already usurping male political prerogatives at the time that he wrote Book I, he
evidently recognized their potential to behave in the manner of Livy’s royal Etruscan women,
and the mythic Greek and historical Hellenistic queens they call to mind, with catastrophic
consequences for the Roman state.

Notes
1 Livy represents Servius Tullius’ daughter Tullia as having married, in succession, two of Tanaquil’s sons
by her husband Tarquinius Priscus (1.42.1). Dionysios of Halikarnassos however, maintains that Servius
Tullius married Tanaquil’s daughter, making Tullia her granddaughter (Ant. Rom. 4.3); see further
p. 497–8 on other differences between Livy’s and Dionysios’ account.
2 Ager forthcoming.
3 Cailleux 2017.
4 Hall 1985.
5 See Glinister 1997, who considers the historicity of Tanaquil and Tullia.
6 For Tanaquil as regina, see most recently Hersch 2019; for Horace on Kleopatra as regina at Odes 1.37.7,
see p. 496.
7 See the translation of Fitts and Fitzgerald 2002, originally published in 1939. Even the usually scrupu-
lous Jebb 1904 translates δάμαρ, “wife,” as “queen.”
8 As Feldherr 1998: 216, points out, “Tanaquil has no authority to act as augur, and so her performance
[“anointing” Servius Tullius] can be read as an illegitimate substitute for the actual inauguratio, which
Tullius lacks.” In private correspondence, Joseph Roisman has called further differences between Livy’s
Tanaquil and Sophokles’ Iokaste to our attention: while Iokaste tries to interpret prophecies, she
misreads them; she does not encourage her husband (and son) Oidipous to take action but actively
discourages him from doing so; she does not empower Oidipous, who keeps legitimating his rule by
reference to his solving the Sphinx’ riddle and saving the city of Thebes. Arthur Eckstein, in private
correspondence, also perceives major differences between Iokaste and Tanaquil: viewing Iokaste as so
greedy to hold on to her power that she has failed to support Oidipous, first by allowing him to be
exposed as a baby, then by marrying him even though she knew the prophecy about him, despite the
fact that she is old enough to be his mother. What is more, Iokaste is a native of and not an immigrant
to Thebes. But Tanaquil’s role as both wife and mother–​figure to two Etruscan kings resembles Iokaste’s
role as both wife and mother to Oidipous the king. So, too, the damage Iokaste inflicts on the city of
Thebes owing to her relationships with powerful men is recalled in the harm Livy’s Tanaquil ultimately
wreaks on the Roman state through her support of her surrogate son Servius Tullius, the abhorrent
conduct of Tanaquil’s biological son and Servius’ daughter, and eventually the violent behavior of their
son Sextus Tarquinius.
9 As Joseph Roisman has pointed out in private correspondence, the Epeirote Olympias was technically
an outsider in Macedonia, and Philip and Alexander insiders. But both Olympias’ husband and her son
were outsiders in Athens, and in the Greece of their day.
10 Plutarch may well have derived this dream-​scenario from his account of the flame interpreted by
Tanaquil about the political promise of Servius Tullius, though he may also draw on earlier sources,
to whom Livy is alluding, and/​or from whom Livy has appropriated the details. See Hamilton
1969: 3–​4, who claims that Plutarch’s source for Olympias’ alleged dream portents may be the
fourth-​century BCE Greek historian Ephoros (BNJ 70 F 217). What seems significant, however,
is the similarity between Tanaquil and Olympias in their employment of this “fiery” supernatural
event to engineer the political ascendancy of a surrogate or biological son. In private corres-
pondence, Stanley Burstein has emphasized that except for her role in the events surrounding the
death of Philip, Olympias’ intrusion into politics was limited during the reigns of both Philip and
Alexander. Indeed, she truly came into her own after Alexander’s death, when her conduct increas-
ingly resembles that which Livy ascribes to Tanaquil and Tullia, through her ruthless pursuit of

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Alexander’s throne for Alexander’s son, Alexander IV by leading armies, murdering Philip III and
Eurydike, and issuing threats.
11 Van Der Blom 2010 makes no mention of Cicero’s own efforts to claim Servius Tullius as a remote
ancestor when seeking high political office, despite Cicero’s disadvantages as a novus homo without
similarly named male consular kin of previous generations. Perhaps Cicero judged royal relations, how-
ever remote, as a liability rather than an asset in his own day. Still, one might conjecture that, even if
Cicero did not wish to be associated with Rome’s monarchic past, his contemporaries connected his
nomen gentilicium Tullius with that of Rome’s sixth king much as they did Brutus’ name with that of the
legendary republican hero who ended the reign of the seventh.
12 The mythic Greek queen Klytaimnestra must have been a familiar figure to Livy and his audience. Not
only did all three of the Attic tragedians—​Aiskhylos in his Oresteia trilogy, Sophokles in his Elektra and
Euripides in both his Elektra and Orestes—​write plays about Klytaimnestra and/​or her family, but a
Roman tragedy entitled Clytemnestra, by the second-​century BC playwright Accius, was also, according
to Cicero (Ad Familiares 7.1.2), performed at the opening of Pompey’s theater in 55 BC. We have
focused on Aiskhylos’ trilogy here because the second and third play feature the “Furies,” to whom
Livy’s narrative clearly alluded.
13 For the House of Atreus, and the “backstories” of Agamemnon and Aigisthos, see Lefkowitz 2010.
14 For Livy’s representation of Tullia as recalling and responding to [Greek and Roman] tragedies, par-
ticularly those about the houses of Atreus and the Theban Laios (the family of Oidipous), see Ogilvie
1965: 186–​94, 228–​9.
15 For Kleopatra’s involvement in the death of her co-​ruler and brother Ptolemy XIII in 47 BC, see
[Caes.] BAlex. 31; Flor. 60; for her role in ordering Mark Antony to put her sister Arsinoë IV to death
in 41 BC, and on the death of her brother and husband Ptolemy XIV, see Joseph. Ap. 2.57; AJ 15.89;
App. B.Civ. 5.9; Cass. Dio 48.24.2; Porphyry, BNJ 260 F 2, 16. See also the discussion by Roller
2010: 16, 18, 26, 37, 53, 56–​65, 71–​5, 80, 114, 124, 147–​60, 164–​5, 179. Our thanks to Stanley Burstein
for explicating the complexities of this familial situation.
16 For the date of Livy Book I, see Luce 1965. Although Burton 2000 would contend that Livy began his
history prior to that date, allowing for the possibility that Horace drew on Livy’s portrait of Tullia in
his characterization of Kleopatra, we accept the traditional dating of the early 20s BCE.
17 See Commager 1958 for Horace’s sympathetic portrayal of Kleopatra in this poem, as well as Roller
2010: 172.
18 Studies on ancient sources about Tanaquil outside the political realm, and what their evidence suggests,
especially about her puissance in the religious sphere, include Briquel 1998; Calhoun 1997, who views
Lucretia’s suicide as ritual atonement for the conduct of Tanaquil and Tullia; Martin 1985; Meulder
2005; Montero 1994; and Santini 2005.
19 See Noggler 2000, for the distinctive features of Dionysios’ portrait of Tanaquil.
20 For Greek and Roman perceptions of Etruscan sexual conduct, and its alleged deviation from Greek
and Roman cultural norms, see Roisman 2014.
21 Plutarch appears to have misunderstood the name of the Roman god [Semo] Sancus
as “Sanctus,” the Latin word for “sacred.”
22 Although it is unclear when Vergil began to write the Aeneid, scholars generally concur with Morwood
1991 that he started it upon completing the Georgics in 29 BC. Again, although Burton 2000 would
contend that Livy began his histories prior to that date, allowing for the possibility that Vergil drew on
Livy’s portrait of Tanaquil in his characterization of Dido, we accept the traditional dating of the early
20s BCE.
23 For Dido’s attempt to use the examination of sacrificial animals to determine whether or not the gods
approve of her love for Aeneas, see O’Hara 1993; for Dido as exile, see Harrison 2007.
24 See, for example, Andromache’s exchange with Hektor at Iliad 6.405–​39: she urges him to remain
fighting on the Trojan wall, out of fear that she will be widowed and their little son orphaned, right
after she has recounted her foreign origins, and the losses that Hektor’s foe Achilles inflicted on her
family.
25 For Dido’s inability to continue functioning as a responsible political leader after Aeneas abandons her,
see the discussions of Hallett 2012 (including a lengthy discussion of Livy’s Tullia) and Keith 2012.
26 See Bauman 1994; Santoro L’Hoir 2006: 49–​50 makes a strong linguistic case for Livy’s portrayal of
Tanaquil’s actions upon the death of Tarquin as Tacitus’ model. See also the excellent discussion of
Tanaquil as peregrina at Santoro L’Hoir 1992: 88–​9.

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Judith P. Hallett and Karen Klaiber Hersch

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

Bibliography
Ager, S. forthcoming.“Fama and Infamia: The Tale of Grypos and Tryphaina.” In R. Faber and S. Ager (eds.),
Celebrity, Fame and Infamy in the Hellenistic World. Toronto.
Bauman, R.A. 1994. “Tanaquil, Livia and the death of Augustus.” Historia 43: 177–​88.
Briquel, D. 1998. “Les figures féminines dans la tradition sur les rois étrusques.” Comptes rendus de l’Académie
des Inscriptions et Belles-​Lettres 2: 397–​414.
Burton, P. 2000.“The Last Republican Historian: A New Date for the Composition of Livy’s First Pentad.”
Historia 49: 429–​46.
Cailleux, F. 2017. “Tanaquil, Tullia and Damarata: Women Secretly Advising Kings in Livy’s History of
Rome and the Degradation of Monarchy.” Dialogues D’Histoire Ancienne 17: 487–​509.
Calhoun, C.G. 1997. “Lucretia, Savior, and Scapegoat: The Dynamics of Sacrifice in Livy 1, 57–​59.” Helios
24: 151–​69.
Carney, E.D. 2006. Olympias: Mother of Alexander the Great. New York and London.
Commager, S. 1958. “Horace, ‘Carmina’ 1.37.” Phoenix 12: 47–​57.
Feldherr, A. 1998. Spectacle and Society in Livy’s History. Los Angeles and London.
Fitts, D. and Fitzgerald, R. 2002. The Oedipus Cycle: Oedipus Rex, Oedipus at Colonus, Antigone. New York.
Glinister, F. 1997. “Women and Power in Archaic Rome.” In T. Cornell and K. Lomas (eds.), Gender and
Ethnicity in Ancient Italy. London, 115–​27.
Hall, J.F. 1985. “Livy’s Tanaquil and the Image of Assertive Etruscan Women in Latin Historical Literature
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Hallett, J.P. 2012. “Women in Augustan Rome.” In S.L. James and S. Dillon (eds.), A Companion to Women
in the Ancient World. Malden, Oxford, and West Sussex, 372–​84.
Hamilton, J.R. 1969. Plutarch: Alexander: A Commentary. Oxford.
Harrison, S. 2007. “Exile in Latin Epic.” In J.F. Gaertner (ed.), Writing Exile: The Discourse of Displacement in
Greco-​Roman Antiquity and Beyond. Leiden, 129–​54.
Hersch, K.K. 2019. “Peregrina Tanaquil.” Paper presented at Panel 17, “The Marital and the
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June 26.
Jebb, R.C. 1904. The Tragedies of Sophocles: Translated into English Prose. Cambridge.
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Lefkowitz, M.R. 2010. “Atreus, House of.” In M. Gagarin (ed.), The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient
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9780195170726-​e-​140 (accessed October 1, 2019).
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Martin, P.A. 1985. “Tanaquil la ‘faiseuse’ de rois.” Latomus 44: 5–​15.
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Montero, S. 1994. “Livia y la adivinación inductive.” Polis 6: 225–​67.
Morwood, J. 1991. “Aeneas, Augustus, and the Theme of the City.” Greece and Rome 38: 212–​23.
Noggler, L. 2000. “Die edle Tanaquil: zum Bild der Frau bei Dionysios von Halikarnass.” In R. Rollinger
and C. Ulf (eds.), Geschlechterrollen und Frauenbild in der Perspektive antiker Autoren. Innsbruck, 245–​71.
Ogilvie, R.M. 1965. A Commentary on Livy: Books 1–​5. Oxford.
O’Hara, J. 1993. “Dido as ‘Interpreting Character’ at Aeneid 4.56–​66.” Arethusa 26: 99–​114.
Roisman, J. 2014. “Greek and Roman Ethnosexuality: Evidence and Interpretations.” In T.K. Hubbard
(ed.), A Companion to Greek and Roman Sexualities. Malden, Oxford, and West Sussex, 398–​416.
Roller, D. 2010. Cleopatra: A Biography. Oxford.
Santini, C. 2005. “Tanaquil vel Fortuna: una figura femminile nel percorso tra mito, testo e icona.” Giornale
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Santoro L’Hoir, F. 1992. The Rhetoric of Gender Terms: “Man,” “Woman,” and the Portrayal of Character in Latin
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41
ROMAN EMPRESSES
ON SCREEN
An epic failure?

Anja Wieber

Introductory remarks
Twentieth-​century epic films about antiquity and, due to film remakes, even some examples of
twenty-​first-​century productions, mostly adhere to traditional old-​fashioned gender roles. In
this genre, deeply rooted in nineteenth-​century novels, the female leading lady is often a damsel
in distress to be saved by the mythic or historic hero.1 An independent heroine, most certainly a
woman in power, represents a paradox in many ways. As such, she is often seen as belonging to
“the dark side of the force”: corrupt, cruel, and craving for power and lust.Those characteristics
are grounded in topoi of ancient sources about bad women, and served ancient historiographers
of senatorial rank as well as nineteenth-​century historians and novelists as a means to denounce
monarchy in general and to deal with gender trouble of their respective eras. Given the breadth
of a topic such as cinematic representation of powerful women from ancient times, this chapter
will concentrate on the question of how Roman empresses are characterized in epic cinema
or comparable TV shows. Emphasis is thereby put on the monarchic representation of the
empresses and their political agency against the historical background of antiquity and the time
of the film’s production. For my exemplary case studies I have chosen two women of the Julio-​
Claudian dynasty who pass, prima facie only, for “the good and the bad wife,” Livia and Poppaea,
and will finally contrast them briefly with empresses from late ancient times.

Livia—​founding mother of the dynasty or serial killer?

Since antiquity, empress Livia has had an ambiguous reputation: on the one hand she is the
exemplary wife of Augustus and a symbolic mater patriae (“mother of the Fatherland”); on the
other hand Tacitus and other historians characterize her as a scheming and plotting murderess.2
Modern historical novels, especially Robert Graves’ I, Claudius and Claudius the God (1934),
adopted the bad side of her character, and thus the sinister Livia is deeply inscribed into our
cultural memory.3 Graves aimed at doing justice to Claudius and his unjustified image as a
stammering, fumbling fool by his fictional account of the Julio-​Claudian dynasty, a first-​person
narrative by Claudius, later emperor. Graves did not write this novel in defense of the female
members of the dynasty; instead, he used some of their characters to cope with his own marital

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problems, as Maria Wyke has argued.4 Therefore, not only should Graves’ construction of the
Messalina character of the novel be read as a response to the experiences he had with dominant
women (his first wife, the painter Nancy Nicholson, and the author Laura Riding), the same
is true about Livia as a protagonist,5 who is referred to in the novel as “one of the worst of the
Claudians.”6
Up to now there have only been two screen adaptations of the novels by Graves: one is
an unfinished British movie by Josef von Sternberg from 1937 and the other is the BBC
series from 1976.7 Although the 1930s film never entered cinemas, the 1965 BBC documen-
tary The Epic That Never Was of 1965 (about that film project) rescues nearly 30 minutes of
footage.8 Alexander Korda produced the film in Denham Film Studios in Britain, founded by
him to compete with Hollywood. Korda was then famous for his lavishly decorated period
films (e.g. The Private Life of Henry VIII).9 The project failed for many reasons, one of them
being that Charles Laughton, who played the main character Claudius, could not get on with
the extravagant Austrian director Josef von Sternberg.10 The scene under discussion (from the
film fragments) depicts a meeting of Livia with her grandson Claudius and her great-​g randson
Caligula in the year of her death (29 CE).11 They meet to attend a ceremony for the deceased
deified emperor Augustus and to learn about a prophecy that Livia’s death is near and Caligula
and Claudius will be the next emperors.The whole scene happens in the open air with the citi-
zens of Rome being present.12 Livia is every inch the dowager empress, cynical13 and wise in her
eighties, played by the character actress Flora Robson, who at 35 had already acquired a repu-
tation for impersonating famous rulers: Tsarina Elisabeth (1934) and Queen Elizabeth I (1937).
The meeting is obviously set on the stairs of the Ara Pacis, the monumental altar of peace
that closely connected with Augustus’ political agenda and his family policy, inaugurated on
January 30 in the year 9 BCE, on Livia’s birthday.14 Consequently, the filmic Livia is enthroned
exactly in front of the figure on the altar relief (south side) that has been identified as Livia
(Figure 41.1).15
The other parts of the processional frieze seem to be condensed and constructed in reverse
order.16 Perhaps this physical setting was chosen to refer to Livia’s role as a priestess for the
deceased Augustus. A woman with a license to sacrifice was very unusual from the ancient point
of view.17 To comment on this in an epic film would be a very interesting feature; it is a pity
that this film never was.
Livia’s impressive robe looks like a monumental cloak of the palliola type (cape);18 its dec-
orative elements remind one of magic signs and resemble late ancient or Byzantine fashions (as
seen on the mosaics of Ravenna) more than clothes from the time of Livia.The train was typical
for ancient theater costumes.19 In modern times, even up to the twentieth century, this train
could also be part of a coronation robe: Napoleon was dressed this way and a similar coronation
mantle of Augusta, Queen of Prussia and later German empress, survives from the year 1861.20
Using modern sources of inspiration in combination with ancient sources is quite common in
epic films about antiquity. Creating a special ceremonial dress for Livia by employing elements
from other epochs is necessary as no robe of that kind existed at the beginning of the imperial
era. Singling her out from the other female film characters clad in typical clothes of the Augustan
era (tunica—​“tunic,” stola—​“overdress,” and palla—​“mantle”) lends some weight to her political
role. The pattern of Livia’s dress, however, connects to star symbols that were quite common in
ancient monarchies (emperor and empress form a pair like sun and moon, as depicted on coins
and other media).21 Livia’s costume can be read as the film version of the ancient monarchical
representation: the dress stands for the dignity of Livia, who had been adopted by Augustus and
given the honorary name Augusta.22 During her conversation with Caligula and Claudius we
learn that she has seen through Claudius:

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Anja Wieber

Figure 41.1 Livia in front of the Ara Pacis: Flora Robson in I, Claudius
Source: Hulton Archive/​Stringer/​Getty Images

Be silent, you impudent puppy [to Caligula]. You take your uncle for a fool, but he’s
not. I sometimes think he pretends to be one, so as to make fools of us. Far from being
a fool, he’s the last decent man left alive in Rome.
(The Epic That Never Was: 0:35)

Such a portrayal of an empress distinguishes itself from the usual parts for women in histor-
ical feature films in those days: in 1933 Philip Lindsay, novelist and historical consultant for The
Private Life of Henry VIII, wrote about his and the audience’s expectations concerning the genre:

We will see heroic deeds and splendid women […] Costume films, I firmly believe,
will bring back a sense of honor and honesty. Instead of lads striving to be Cagneys
they will wish to be d’Artagnans; and the women will expect a certain finesse, a certain
beauty about love-​making.
(Lindsay 1933: 10–​11)

This Livia is a real puppet master, not a passive, splendid face only to be looked at by the
male viewer, adored by the screen hero, or emulated by the female audience.The fact that she is
an old lady and a widow (believed to be asexual and therefore different from the typical female
love interest of the male hero) may relate to her strong presence; not for nothing her black robe,
especially the cape, and her small veil recall Queen Victoria’s dress code.23

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In the BBC series of 1976, Siân Phillips, a much-​awarded Welsh actress, played the role of
the empress. Herbert Wise, who was an expert in shooting TV series, directed all the episodes.24
Sandra Joshel has demonstrated that the TV version of Graves’ novels turned ancient history
into a soap opera (serial drama with a focus on family and its emotional relationships, origin-
ally named after the soap manufacturers sponsoring such shows in the USA).25 Historical soaps
about the period from the end of the nineteenth century up to the 1930s were already very
popular on British TV (e.g. The Forsyte Saga BBC 1967; Upstairs—​Downstairs ITV 1971–​5).26
Typically for this genre, the main setting is the interior and dialogue is the central form of
action.Therefore—​to give but one example—​we do not see the imperial family inaugurate the
gladiatorial games, but we only hear, for a short time, people applauding them when they enter
the imperial lodge (ep. 3, 0:30–​0:31)27. By domesticating ancient history and using colloquial
language this show could also carry modern subtexts and current issues from the 1970s, as in
the change of family structure or gender roles. When Britannicus tells his father Claudius, “You
are old, father, and out of touch” (ep. 12, 0:43), he echoes the generation gap of modern days.
Martin Lindner, on the other hand, has argued that in I, Claudius the presentation of imperial
family history resembles a crime drama with comic elements more than a soap opera, and that
the concentration on the domestic scenery, i.e. indoor shots, can be explained by budgetary
concerns.28
In the second chapter of Graves’s novel, the narrator Claudius summarizes Livia’s relationship
with her husband Augustus as follows, having mentioned her several times before: “Augustus
ruled the World, but Livia ruled Augustus.”29 The TV show opens with the narrator Claudius
on screen and his voice commenting off-​screen; he sits in front of his desk, obviously starting
his project to write his family’s history (which includes Livia, introduced as his grandmother),
meant for posterity. In the next scene we see Livia in person, during a festive dinner party in the
palace. While we witness guests at the party exchanging pleasantries and a poet reciting some
verses commemorating the Battle of Actium, the off-​screen narrator Claudius and the camera
introduce the inner circle, “Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, old friend and commander of the armies
of Augustus […] Emperor of Rome, a most remarkable man. But even more remarkable was
Livia, his second wife. If Augustus ruled the world, Livia ruled Augustus” (ep. 1, 0:11).
By this filmic device the narrator acts like the ancient nomenclator, the slave who prepares his
master with people’s names and ranks; the film puts a certain emphasis on Livia’s characteriza-
tion by formally introducing her, so that, from the beginning, the audience is left with a stronger
impression of her marital dominance than in the novel. In the first part of the series, until her
death, her crimes constitute one of the determining themes.We follow a trail of allusions, ambi-
guities, and partial confessions associated with a series of poisonings within the Julio-​Claudian
family launched by Livia. Augustus (Brian Blessed), who has found out too late that his family
has made him a fool, long seems to be the jovial patriarch without the slightest clue what is
going on, masterfully manipulated by his wife (ep. 4, 0:16:55). Already in the first episode, the
all-​knowing viewer notices that Livia is responsible for the death of Augustus’ nephew and
son-​in-​law, Marcellus. Hence her remark that her husband’s grandsons Gaius and Lucius “still
have a long way to go,” has a sinister connotation (ep. 1, 1:36). A conversation between Livia
and the sorceress Martina is full of deadly irony: the latter regrets that the empress, with all
her knowledge of poisons, is not able to practice that profession (ep. 5, 0:34:35). In the series,
Livia poisoned all those Augustus has appointed as successors: Marcellus, Gaius, Lucius, and
Germanicus. Finally, she poisoned Augustus and, after his death, ordered the death of Agrippa
Postumus, the last survivor of the Julian side of the family. Ancient sources do support these
accusations, but often leave some room for doubts.30 Already in the novel, combining so many
sources, omitting any doubts, and accusing Livia of crimes not previously mentioned, enhances

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Anja Wieber

their effect.31 The series further intensifies this impact by extending scenes or fabricating fur-
ther charges (e.g. the conversation with the sorceress Martina). The whole series is listed in the
Internet Movie Database with the tagline, “Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud hatch out.”32
Moreover the fourth episode has the meaningful title, “Poison is queen,” clearly referring to
Livia. In the novel, one can read this dictum twice, but embedded in an explanatory con-
text: once it refers to a Greek inscription, “Poison is queen,” inside an old chest accompanied
by a portrait resembling Livia, and the next time it is an exclamation of the sleepy Claudius,
who unexpectedly hears about the death of Augustus, but rejects this phrase immediately as the
consequence of a nightmare.33 The filmic version of this quote is less embedded, less speculative,
and therefore catchier than the references in the novel. Besides, the whole episode ends with
the old Claudius still being haunted by a laughing Livia: he then shouts twice, “Poison is queen”
and six times, “Stop it” (0:49:40–​0:50).
Not surprisingly, Livia’s poisoning of Augustus is portrayed as her masterpiece. Shortly
before, the viewer has learned that Augustus has paid a visit to the exiled Agrippa Postumus.
As he is the last possible male successor of the Julian side of the family, this visit poses a
threat to Livia’s son from her former marriage, Tiberius, and his succession—​which mother
and son until then believed to be a done deal.34 Whereas ancient sources mention a meeting
between Agrippa and Augustus, the earlier scene, where Livia convinces the Chief Vestal to
open Augustus’ testament by promising her money for the temple, cannot be verified by
ancient sources. Now for the scene itself: with his friends and family, Augustus is entirely
enjoying parlor games, when suddenly he collapses with cramps (0:35:51–​0:43:17). We under-
stand that Augustus knows about his wife’s intentions to poison him by the way their glances
are directed. At the same time, she knows that he knows; the effect is enhanced by the use
of the subjective camera whereby we see the events through the eyes of the characters.35 In
the novel the poisoning covers only a few lines,36 whereas in the film it takes some minutes,
splendidly cut. A nice montage connects Livia’s thoughtfully peering at the figs with the court
physician’s report that Augustus has decided from now on only to eat figs he has picked him-
self.37 Now the omniscient viewer suspects her sinister plans. The effect is intensified by coun-
terpoint music: the twittering of birds mocks the idyll. Augustus, on his death bed with his
facial expression completely frozen, resembles prey mesmerized by the serpent, an animal that
is by now well known to the viewer, as a coiling serpent is part of the opening credits, done in
ancient mosaic style.When Livia starts to criticize Augustus, saying that he should have listened
more to her and that he has pushed her into the background, this message is made literal by
having her be audible, but off-screen. But after having shed some tears, Livia is again ready to
take charge of the events which follow. En passant, she addresses her son with words heavy with
meaning: “By the way […] don’t touch the figs.”
Suspicions of poisoning are common in historical sources dealing with monarchies without
a fixed order of succession. Moreover, aristocratic Roman women were familiar with medical
knowledge, as they were responsible for the well-​being of their numerous families, including
relatives and slaves. The physician Scribonius Largus collected medical recipes, naming Livia
and other imperial ladies as his sources for some.38 These facts could explain the accusations.
Finally, ancient reports about Livia’s misdeeds—​whether true to a certain degree or not—​must
be read as criticism of overwhelming female influence directly generated by monarchy. But
what could the twentieth century gain from that image of Livia? In the 1970s, the TV show
was advertised by the producer with the slogan, “It’s about a family business called ruling the
world.”39 Considering the modern subtexts, the audience of those days could watch and learn
what happens to a “business” in which a woman like Livia has her own agenda, against her
husband’s will.This business is doomed to fail—​like the Julio-​Claudian family in the end. In the

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heyday of the second British women’s liberation movement, Livia’s story became a cautionary
tale about the consequences of violating classic gender roles and expectations.40
How far the viewer response to the TV show as it was broadcast could be that of simply
drawing an analogy between Rome and modern days is also documented by an US article from
1982. The sociologist Harry Perlstadt argued that, “Viewers of I, Claudius were both fascinated
and horrified as the television drama performed an almost ritualistic function of explaining the
present through exploring an allegory based on the past.”41 People saw similarities in the polit-
ical crisis in Rome (the end of the republic and corruption of imperial Rome) and in the USA
of the 1970s (Vietnam War and Watergate) and in decaying family values (among other things,
female emancipation) in both societies. Livia, in his interpretation, made a perfect example of
liberated women who are not reluctant to commit crimes and “mask their power behind inno-
cence and modesty.”42 Juliette Harrison has given ample proof of the continuing impact of this
image of Livia, ranging from being the namesake for Livia Soprano, matriarch in the TV show
The Sopranos about a mafia clan, to inspiring the character of Atia, Octavian’s mother, in the
series Rome (USA/​GB/​I 2005–​7).43
Is there room for another Livia? In 2013, the BBC produced a documentary in three parts
presented by the historian and expert on ancient cultural history Catherine Edwards. Leaving
aside the attention grabbing title Mothers, Murderers and Mistresses: Empresses of Ancient Rome, the
first part of this documentary shows the other side of the coin, Livia and her financial resources
as well as her role as an intermediary in political conflicts, best summarized by the neologism
matronage.44 Some years before, in 2005, the popular historian Mary Mudd had published her
answer to I, Claudius, a biography with the title: I, Livia. The Counterfeit Criminal which would
make an interesting starting point for a new feature film.

Poppaea—​the wickedest woman in the world?

Cecil B. DeMille, one of the most successful directors in Hollywood in the era of silent movies
as well as in the times of the talkies, was famous for a cinema of sensations. In 1932 he asked
the ladylike actress Claudette Colbert whether she would like to play Poppaea, “the wickedest
woman in the world,” and she said yes.45 The film, The Sign of the Cross, based on a nineteenth-​
century play by Wilson Barrett, was completed within the year. Main characters are the insane
and effeminate emperor Nero and his infamous wife Poppaea,46 who is in love with the (fic-
tional) city prefect of Rome, Marcus Superbus. However, Marcus’ love interest happens not to
be the empress but the Christian girl Mercia. First he tries to seduce the innocent girl, but finally
he falls in love with her. When the jealous empress condemns Mercia to death, together with
other Christians, Marcus follows her to the arena and they both face their afterlife confidently.
The plot, presenting a Roman society that in its cruelty and corruption should be under-
stood as the exact opposite of ancient (and modern) Christianity and its values, resembles the
famous novel Quo Vadis? (Henryk Sienkiewicz, 1896). The Christian varnish proves thin. The
film offers, on a visual and narrative level, sufficient sex and crime to satisfy viewers’ voyeurism,
in the days before the enforcement of the Hays Code (the rigid self-​censorship of the American
film industry from 1934 up to the 1960s). The glamorous sins of Rome took people’s minds
off everyday problems in the Depression era.47 Although the Church criticized the film’s offen-
sive depiction of sadism in the arena, of homosexuality, specifically lesbianism, and the bristling
eroticism of many scenes, The Sign of the Cross was a box office hit.48 One of the great erotic
attractions was certainly Poppaea bathing in ass’s milk. This incredible luxury, already described
by the elder Pliny,49 is made obvious by making the viewer a witness of how many hands
are necessary to carry the milk to the palace. In the comfort of her bath, the empress grants

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audience to her friend Dacia, to listen to her report about her love interest Marcus Superbus,
who has made himself scarce. Poppaea even invites Dacia to share her bathing pleasures.
Despite Poppaea’s spectacular entrances she does not take up much of the film’s running
time.50 The first meeting between the empress and Marcus Superbus witnessed by the viewer
is a scene when Poppaea is bored and leaves a party. Meanwhile Marcus, who wants to save
his beloved Mercia from trouble, chases through the city and his chariot damages Poppaea’s
carriage. Poppaea, standing on the top of a huge staircase and monitoring the carriage crash,
converses with Marcus, who addresses her from the street:

Marcus: […] I shall beg your pardon properly tomorrow.

Poppaea: Why not tonight?
Marcus: Because I’m in great haste tonight, on the Emperor’s most urgent business.
Poppaea: Come here! I’m the Emperor’s most urgent business. Do as I tell you!
(0:55–​0:58)

Although she twice tells Marcus to obey her, he does not strictly follow her orders. Though
he leaves his carriage and climbs up some stairs, he tries to evade her clutches by postponing
the meeting. Then he rushes away with a short, “Good night,” while Poppaea leaves her pos-
ition on the staircase only to gaze after him and to shout, “Marcus, I insist!” without any success.
The hierarchical gap between Poppaea and Marcus expressed by their position on the staircase
changes to a situation of a passive woman abandoned by an active man. In terms of the film’s
running time, it takes only a few minutes to dethrone the powerful woman. The next morning,
we watch the empress receiving Marcus at court (1:05–​1:12). Reclining lazily on a couch, she
resembles a seductress from harem fantasies, accompanied by a leopard, surrounded by all the
luxuries (e.g. furs and fruits), and slaves playing a harp and holding a fan. Despite all her sex
appeal, her love for Marcus proves to be unrequited; he leaves after quarreling with her, not
following the empress’s order to forget the Christian girl Mercia. When Poppaea realizes her
defeat, we watch her anger crosscut with shots of her pet: one cannot be certain who is hissing,
the empress or the wild animal. Next she hurries to what could be a great shiny gong she wants
to strike with a stick, perhaps in order to summon her subordinates. But, after a moment of
hesitation, she seems to have found another solution: an intrigue she will machinate.The sound
of drums in the background indicates the empress is on the warpath.
Actually, shots from this scene make her look like a “domina” holding the gong stick, similar
to a club or a scepter (Figure 41.2). She does then turn Nero against the Christian girl with the
intent to save Marcus, but in vain, as in the end he refuses to be spared by her. No matter how
powerful this empress may be, the 1930s Poppaea does not succeed in making the man of her
choice an obedient lover. Epic films about antiquity sometimes mention the concept of women
who can wield power over male sexuality: this is the case with empresses but also with female
slave owners. The aristocratic women in Spartacus (USA 1960) indulged in voyeurism when
watching the gladiators, a concept that has been exaggerated in the modern TV show Spartacus
(USA 2010–​13). Most certainly the empress Poppaea is not a woman exerting control over a
man’s body, which would have caused (and still would cause?) real scandal in those days.
Nonetheless the actress Claudette Colbert saw a powerful woman in Poppaea, as she said in
an interview at the time the movie was released:

We modern women could learn a lot from Poppaea. We go about demanding our
rights, arguing with men for what we want. But Poppaea knew a trick which was
far more effective. She flattered him [i.e. Nero]. She let down her hair, perfumed her

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Roman empresses on screen

Figure 41.2 Poppaea plotting: Claudette Colbert in The Sign of the Cross
Source: Photo12/​WolfTracerArchive, Alamy

body and arrayed herself in her loveliest and most daring costumes for his pleasure.
Then she did just whatever she pleased. He was so enchanted with her that he never
noticed the things she did.
(Quoted in Kakutani 1979 )

Similarly, the Australian film critic and author John Howard Reid called Poppaea, “a mini-
ature minx of unbridled power.”51 A minx is “a girl or young woman who knows how to
control other people to her advantage.”52 Power, in this context, turns into a spectacle with an
empress whose resources are youth, sex appeal, and quick-​wittedness, used to manipulate the
effeminate husband, though failing with manly men. This Poppaea may be a “queen of screw-
ball” (some of her dialogue points in the direction of the humorous battle of the sexes typical
for that genre), 53 but she does not pose a threat to men and their political prerogatives. In 1932,
the year The Sign of the Cross was released, as much as 12 years after American women had won
the struggle for the vote, Hattie Wyatt Caraway was the first woman to be elected to the Senate
and there was still much ground to cover.54 Considering DeMille’s moralistic intentions (he
saw himself as a sort of preacher and stresses similarities between Rome’s corruption and the
American depression era),55 Poppaea’s character could also be read as a criticism of contem-
porary American women, the society ladies and party girls, committing adultery out of sheer
boredom.Tacitus had labeled the future empress as an adulteress,56 and so only hints are needed
in the film to refer to an extramarital affair and we hear her say to Marcus, “You haven’t wanted
a vile court intrigue with me. I haven’t either particularly. But what else is there?”

511
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Anja Wieber

A change of gender roles in late antiquity?

The examples of the two Julio-​Claudian empresses we have seen so far are defined by crimes
or sins. This result would not have been different, even had there been room to include other
notorious women of imperial families or more recent screenings of those empresses. Since in
late antiquity the empresses markedly gained political power,57 one might well wonder whether
this change has had influence on their cinematic representation.
In Sign of the Pagan (USA 1954),58 one of the many epic movies about Attila the Hun, we
meet Pulcheria Augusta, sister of the emperor Theodosius II; the setting is Constantinople of
the fifth century CE.The Roman centurion Marcian, who has recently fled from Hunnish cap-
tivity, and general Paulinus are plotting to bring down the emperor, who is under suspicion of
joining forces with Attila the Hun. In the context of a Hunnish take-​over of the eastern capital,
they convince Pulcheria to take over the emperorship. At first the empress shows some deter-
mination: she not only orders Theodosius to abdicate, but also appoints Paulinus as regent and
Marcian as the commander of the forces to assist the western empire against the Huns. Confident
of gaining a victory over the barbarians, she plans to go to Italy to pray that Rome, as a symbol
of Christianity, will last forever (0:53–​0:58). Sometime later, Pulcheria and Marcian are staying
in Italy, when they receive the message that Valentinian, the emperor of the western Roman
empire, is actually leaving Rome. In their subsequent conversation, Pulcheria tells Marcian
that she cannot rule an empire alone: she asks him to come back and to rule the people with
her. She closes with, “Happy the woman to whom you come,” and then they exchange kisses
(1:03:40–​1:06:30). Actually, the reign of Theodosius was ended by his death in a riding accident.
Pulcheria had acted as regent for her younger brother Theodosius for many years. Moreover, she
was famous for her austerity and her vow of chastity, even after her marriage to the emperor-​to-​
be Marcian. The filmic empress is promoted to her rank by men’s initiative. In the last sequence
discussed, we see her gazing after the men who are riding away and then turning her face to
the viewer. Her cloak, with a pinkish satin-​trimmed hood, makes her look like a Madonna.This
gentle and beautiful woman admires her future husband for climbing the social ladder. Also, she
freely admits that she needs masculine assistance (or guidance?) to fulfill her role as empress. She
stays away from the battlefield, which women should not enter. No doubt, her actions illustrate
the ideal world of the 1950s with gender boundaries intact and wives supposed to submit to
their husbands. So, for Pulcheria, the happy ending means getting married to the hero. For epics
of the 1950s and 1960s, this result is quite typical, no matter whether their heroines are mythical
figures like Helen of Troy or historical queens like Kleopatra or Zenobia.59 They are all eager to
give up the business of ruling for Mr. Right, or to quote the Palmyrene queen Zenobia (Sign of
the Gladiator—​Nel segno di Roma, I 1958): “To be able to win every man is not as worthwhile as
to be chosen by one man” (0:49:51–​0:50).60
In the films discussed so far, empresses (especially if they are young) are used to discuss gender
trouble and marriage ideals that were relevant at the times the films were shot.61 Their charac-
terization does not usually break with the tradition of ancient sources about those empresses,
although sometimes the filmic depiction exaggerates. Examining the TV show Rome in the
context of the battle for viewing ratings, Anise K. Strong has aptly described the phenomenon
of presenting ancient deviant sexuality as, “Vice is nice.”62 This formula is also relatively valid in
earlier film productions and their portrayal of ruling women. Wicked and oversexed empresses
served as a means to distract viewers from their problems and to mislead the censors in times of
harsh censorship. To guarantee that everything is back to normal in the end, the upside-​down
world with women on top has to stop. So those women are either punished by death or tamed
by men, by marriage, or by being rejected in love: ultimately they fail. Historical facts in such

512
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Roman empresses on screen

cautionary tales are twisted at random.The filmic Justa Grata Honoria, Galla Placidia’s daughter,
suffers a dramatic death in the Hunnic camp, stabbed by advancing Romans in the film Attila
(Attila, il Flagello di Dio, I/​F 1954, 1:06). Although her date of death is as uncertain as her pol-
itical alliance with Attila is much debated by scholars,63 there are no ancient sources for this
version of her death, which seems to be a poetic (here filmic) justice for her unwomanly ambi-
tion and her betrayal of the Romans.
Most astonishingly another topos that is quite common in the depiction of eastern queens
like Kleopatra or Zenobia is also applied to late ancient empresses from the East and the
West: female rulers are Orientalized and turned into dancing harem girls, and thus stripped
of their political power.64 In Revenge of the Barbarians (La Vendetta dei Barbari, Italy 1960) Galla
Placidia (Daniela Rocca) appears as a sort of Mata Hari, entering the camp of the Visigoths
disguised as a member of a circus troupe: her performance is a belly dance, so her costume
consists of a glaring red bikini and a veil. In contrast to the Italian film versions, the his-
torical Galla Placidia was indeed a successful regent. However, it is obvious that showing
empresses at everyday work, enacting non-​boudoir power has usually been outside the scope
of filmmakers.

Notes
1 My thanks go to the following for their help in the different stages of preparing this paper: Filippo
Carlà-​Uhink, Judith Rhodes and Stefan Sandführ.
Wieber-​Scariot 1998: 84.
2 See Barrett 2002: esp. 229–​47 on Livia and on the ancient sources see Kunst 2008.
3 Kunst 2009: 336.
4 Wyke 2002: 356–​9.
5 Gibson 2015: 283–​4, 286.
6 Graves 2006a: 16.
7 Gibson 2015: 287–​92.
8 The documentary is part of the BBC 5-​DVD edition of I Claudius from 2002 (disc 5: special features).
9 For the impact this movie had on the British film industry see Richards 2010: 257–​72.
10 For the film project see: Solomon 2001: 29–​30, 78; McFarlane 2008; from the viewpoint of a family
member: Korda 2002: 115–​18.
11 The Epic That Never Was, 0:34–​0:36:40.
12 In the novel a comparable scene is set during a dinner in the palace (Graves 2006a: 280–​8).
13 She tells Claudius that she is going to kill her magician if his prophecy proves to be wrong, otherwise
she will take him with her: “I can use a clever old vulture like that, even in death.”
14 Zanker 1988: 117–​23, 172–​83, 203–​7; Severy 2003; for Livia as a representation of Ceres in the pro-
cessional frieze see Späth 1994: 88–​90.
15 For the sardonyx showing an enthroned Livia as a priestess of Augustus and a goddess see Zanker
1988: 235, fig. 184.
16 Späth 1994: 73–​5; 89–​90.
17 Kunst 2008: 188–​217.
18 Her cloak resembles, from the front, a palliola, a short palla (outer garment for women), combined with
an unusual train at the back; the complex decoration of the fabric is typical for late antiquity (Cleland,
Davies, and Llewellyn-​Jones 2007: 136–​7).
19 For the so-​called syrma (a robe with a train, emphasizing the character’s high status) as a stage costume
see Cleland, Davies, and Llewellyn-​Jones 2007: 179.
20 www.dhm.de/​ s ammlung- ​ f orschung/ ​ s ammlungen0/​ b ildende-​ k unst-​ i /​ i nhalt/​ n apoleon-​ i -​ i m-​
kroenungsornat.html (accessed June 22, 2019); www.spsg.de/​aktuelles/​ausstellung/​frauensache-​
exponate/​(accessed June 22, 2019).
21 For the sun in the monarchic discourse of antiquity see Schmid 2005: 76–​91; for sun and moon in
dynastic discourses see Wieber-​Scariot 1999: 266–​8.
22 Kunst 2008: 190–​7.

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Anja Wieber

23 For the patterned cape, see the dress she wore to St Paul’s Cathedral for her Jubilee thanksgiving service
in 1897 (https://​images.historicenglandservices.org.uk/​historic-​images/​1870s-​1900/​queen-​victoria-​
1897-​d880039-​3718540.html; accessed June 22, 2019); for her veil, which had been black since her
widowhood and was only changed to white for special family occasions, see Baird 2016: 409.
24 See Visual History with Herbert Wise, Interviewed by Mike Newell. www.dga.org/​Craft/​VisualHistory/​
Interviews/​Herbie-​Wise.aspx (accessed June 22, 2019).
25 Joshel 2001: 137–​50.
26 See also Harrison 2017: 272–​4.
27 All the following quotes are based on the DVD edition in 12 parts with a longer first episode, mentioned
in n. 8; episodes numbers and timestamps will be given in brackets.
28 Lindner 2013: 299–​300; see also Harrison 2017, 276–​7.
29 Graves 2006a: 20.
30 Suet. Tib. 22; Tac. Ann. 1.3.3; Cass. Dio 53.33.4, 55.10a.10, 56.30.1–​2.
31 Livia Medullina Camilla, referred to in the novel as Camilla, was betrothed to Claudius and died on her
wedding day; ancient sources do not connect her sudden death with Livia (Stegmann 1999).
32 The last line of a poem from the novel, written by Claudius to cope with Messalina’s death and his
approaching remarriage (Graves 2006b: 391) is turned into the motto of the series. www.imdb.com/​
title/​tt0074006/​taglines?ref_​=tt_​ql_​stry_​1 (accessed June 22, 2019).
33 Graves 2006a: 28, 157.
34 Tac. Ann. 1.5.
35 For Wise preferring that technique see Harrison 2017: 278.
36 Graves 2006a: 156.
37 The ancient source for this is Cassius Dio 56.30.2, who says Livia managed to prepare some of the
figs that Augustus had picked himself and offered those to him, whereas she ate the safe ones; Kunst
2008: 189 considers this implausible, as Augustus died en route and not at home, so that tampering with
the figs would have been difficult for Livia.
38 Baldwin 1992: 74–​5; Mudd 2005: 390–​405 (Appendix IV: “Livia’s Medicines: The Pharmaceutical
Legacy of Scribonius Largus”).
39 Quoted after Murray 1976: 1394.
40 For the gender issues and the modern political subtexts in general see Joshel 2001;Wyke 2002: 380–​90.
41 Perlstadt 1982: 176.
42 Ibid.: 168.
43 Harrison 2017: 286–​7; other examples are a blogpost from 2008: “Everything I know about Roman
history I learned from I, Claudius. As a result, my Augustus Caesar is a bit of a bumbling old man
[…] and my Livia deliciously evil (that last, at any rate, is likely factual).” https://​whatisthe.wordpress.
com/​2008/​07/​21/​let-​all-​the-​poisons-​that-​lurk-​in-​the-​mud-​hatch-​out/​ (accessed June 22, 2019) and
a drawing by Christian Tsvetanov (2015?) with the title Poison is Queen which shows Siân Philipps
in her role as Livia sitting on the deathbed of Augustus. www.deviantart.com/​christiantsvetanov/​art/​
Poison-​is-​Queen-​Augustus-​and-​Livia-​562227582 (accessed June 22, 2019).
44 Wieber-​Scariot 1999: 216–​18; Kunst 2013.
45 Malamud 2008: 158–​66, 179–​81; DeMille Presley and Vieira 2014: 176–​206.
46 Goffin 2001; the only more recent monograph about Poppaea is by a non-​specialist: Graham 2016; for
Poppaea’s political profile see Edelmann-​Singer 2013 and for her prestige see Somà 2016: 35–​6.
47 Malamud 2008: 165.
48 Ibid.: 157; de Mille Presley and Vieira 2014: 191–​5, 206.
49 Plin. HN. 11.238.
50 All the following quotes are based on the DVD edition of the full-​length original film version by
Universal Pictures Home Entertainment (2006, running time 2:05).
51 Reid 2013: 130, quoting one of his own film reviews written under the pseudonym George Addison.
52 https://​dictionary.cambridge.org/​dictionary/​english/​minx (accessed June 22, 2019).
53 For a definition of the screwball comedies emerging around 1930 in the US cinema, see Gehring 1986.
54 Cullen-​DuPont 2000: 40–​1.
55 Malamud 2008: 159–​63, 179–​81.
56 Tac. Ann. 1. 14, arte adulterae (with the artfulness of an adulteress).
57 McCormick 2007: 145–​51; Busch 2015.
58 Wieber 2005; references are made to the French Blu-​ray/​DVD edition from Elephant Films (2016,
running time 1:32:08).

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Roman empresses on screen

59 Wieber-​Scariot 1998: 84–​9.

60 This quotation is my translation from the version screened on German television, running time 1:34.
61 Wieber 2010.
62 Strong 2008.
63 Busch 2015: 166–​76.
64 Wieber-​Scariot 1998: 77–​84; for the Oriental topoi see Carlà-​Uhink and Wieber 2020.

Abbreviations
Abbreviations of ancient authors, works and document collections are those found in the Oxford Classical
Dictionary (online at https://​oxfordre.com/​classics/​page/​abbreviation-​list/​).

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INDEX

Notes
(1) The following abbreviations have been used in this index:
b. brother
d. daughter
f. father
m. mother
mar. married to
s.  son
(2) Page numbers in italics refer to diagrams and photographs.

Abu Simbel 28 Aegyptiaka (Manetho) 11, 23, 24, 25

Achaia 175 L. Aelius Caesar (formerly L. Ceionius
Achaimenes (s. of Amestris) 149, 152–​3 Commodus) 440
Achaimenid kings: diplomatic marriages 150–​1; Aeneid (Vergil) 499
incestuous alliances 351 Agamemnon 271, 273, 275, 277, 278, 285
Achaimenid palaces 334 Agamemnon (Aischylos) 284–​5, 495
Achaimenid royal and noble women 149–​58; Agathokleia (concubine and sister of
audiences 155; dress and appearance 156–​7; Agathokles) 340
hierarchy 150; landownership, labor and Agathokleia (m. of Strato) 364
business 157; power 158 Agathokles of Syracuse 312
Achaios the Elder 175, 199–​200, 201 Ager, Sheila L. 492
Achaios the Younger 175, 201–​2, 350 Agrippa, Marcus Vispanius (mar. Julia the Elder)
Achilleus (Iliad) 273, 278 382, 399
Adad-​guppi (m. of Nabonidus) 145 Agrippa Postumus, Marcus Vipsanius 400
Adad-​narari III (s. of Shamshi-​Adad V and Agrippina the Elder/​Maior (d. of Agrippa and
Sammu-​ramat) 143 Julia the Elder) 401–​2, 403, 445
Ada (d. of Hekatomnos; mar. Idrieus) 161, 165, Agrippina the Younger/​Minor (d. of Germanicus
166, 167, 170 and Agrippina the Elder) 367, 393, 403, 404,
Ada (d. of Pixodaros) 169 406–​8, 444
Adea Eurydike (d. of Amyntas; mar. Philip Ahmes-​Nefertari (wife/​sister of Ahmose, m. of
Arrhidaios) 189, 297, 300, 325–​6 Amenhotep I) 26, 47
Adeimantos of Lampsakos 327 Ahmose (mar. to Ahmose-​Nefertari) 26, 47
adelphic couples see brother–​sister marriages Ahmose (m. of Hatshepsut, mar. of Tuthmose I) 12
Admetos (Eur. Alc) 288 Aias (Sophokles) 290
Adranadorus (Syracusan general) 492 Aigai, Argead capital 294
Ādur-​Anāhīd (d. of Šābuhr I) 248 Aigisthos (Aischylos’ Agamemnon) 495

517
518

Index

Aigisthos (Cho.) 285 Amenhotep IV (Akhenaton) 27–​8, 35, 36–​41, 38

Aigisthos (Eur. El.) 290 Amenirdis I/​Khanefererumut (sister of Piye)
Aigisthos (Odyssey) 283 49–​50, 52, 52, 54
Aigisthos (Soph. El.) 290 Amestris/​Amastris (niece of Dareios III;
Aischylos 275; Agamemnon 284, 291, 495; mar. Krateros) 155
Eumenides 496; Libation Bearers 496 Amestris (d. of Artaxerxes II; mar. Tiribazos) 155
Aitia (Kallimachos) 87, 89, 110, 111, 112, 113 Amestris (d. of Dareios II) 155
Akhenaton (Amenhotep IV) 27–​8, 35, 36–​41, 38 Amestris (d. of Otanes; mar. Xerxes I) 149, 151,
Akkad Empire 142–​3 152–​3, 155, 157
Akkadian (language) 137–​8 Amestris (m. of Artaxerxes I) 157
Akkadian royal titles 192 amicitiae muliebris (“feminine friendships”) 393
Alcestis (Euripides) 288 Amisiri (mar. to Artaremu/​Artarios) 157
Alexander and Olympias cameos 366 Ammianus Marcellinus 463, 470; 14.2 469;
Alexander Balas (s. of Antiochos IV and Antiochos; 14.6.16–​17 484–​5; 28.4.9 485
mar. Kleopatra Thea) 178–​179, 222, 348, 363 Amon cult 40
Alexander (b. of Laodike) 175 amphimetric strife 297, 349
Alexander Helios (s. of Kleopatra VII and Amyntas I 299
Antony) 127 Amyntas III 299
Alexander II Zabinas 179 Amyntas (s. Perdikkas III) 325
Alexander III the Great (s. of Philip II and Amytis (d. of Alyattes of Sardeis) 150
Olympias) 77–​8, 98, 170, 190, 295–​6, 298, Amytis (mar. Megabyxos) 154
300, 322 Anastasia (d. of Constantius I and Theodora) 464
Alexander IV (s. of Alexander III and Roxane) Anatolian familial networks 202
296, 321, 324, 325 Andrade, N.J. 262
Alexander Jannaios 222–​3, 225, 226, 227, 229 Andromache (Iliad) 278
Alexander, Marcus Aurelius (formerly Gessius Angiò, F. 301
Alexianus) see Severus Alexander, Emperor Anicetus, freedman 407
Alexander of Lynkestis 190 Ankhenespepy I (mar. Pepy I; m. of Merenra) 13
Alexander (s. of Aristoboulos) 227–​8 Ankhenespepy II (mar. Pepy I; m. of Pepy II)
Alexander Zabinas 178 13, 14–​16
Alexandra (d. of Hyrkanos) 227–​8 Ankhesenpaaten (d. of Nefertiti; mar. Tutankhaten)
Alexandria 108, 334–​5 37, 38, 39, 41–​2
Alexandria cast 362 Ankh-​kheperu-​re Neferneferuaten 41
Alexandrian War 123 Ankh-​kheperu-​re Semenkhkare 41
Alexandros I (mar. Kleopatra; s. Neoptolemos) Ankhnesneferibre Adoption Stele 53–​4
297, 299, 322 Ankhnesneferibre/​Heqatneferoumut (d. of Psametik
Alexandros I (s. of Neoptolemos) 296 II) 53–​4, 54
Alexandros (Paris) 274 Annales (Tacitus) 399
Alkaios, Ganymede 188 Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla 411–​13
Alkestis (Eur. Alc) 287, 288 Annia Galeria Faustina see Faustina Maior (the
Alkinoos (Odyssey) 275 Elder) (d. Marcus Verus; mar. Antoninus Pius)
Alyattes of Sardeis 150 Anonymous Valesianus 464
Amanirenase (qore, queen of Kush) 68 Anōšag (m. of Rōdduxt) 248
Amanishakheto pyramid chapel 67 Antigone (d. of Berenike and Philippos) 339
Amanishakheto (qore, queen of Kush) 65, 68 Antigone (Sophokles) 286–​7, 291
Amanitore (Meroitic royal woman) 65 Antigonid monarchy 307–​15; and Argead
Amarna Period 35, 42 monarchy 310; courts 334; cults and royal
Amasis of Egypt 150 women 314; marriage alliances 312–​13;
Amastris (city) 192, 194 polygamy 309, 311, 311–​12; wedding festivals
Amastris, regnant basilissa 192–​3, 194 313; women’s euergetism 314
Ambrose 466 Antigonid palaces 334
Amenemhat I 16 Antigonid women 308, 314
Amenemhat II 16 Antigonos I Monophthalmos 192, 307, 308, 309,
Amenemhat III 18, 26 310, 324–​5, 339
Amenemhat IV 18, 36 Antigonos II Gonatas 85; control of Korinthos
Amenhotep I (m. Ahmes-​Nefertari) 26, 27 311; Halkyoneus (son by Demo) 313; king of
Amenhotep III 12, 27, 36 Macedonia 307, 310; and Phila II 174, 313,

518
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Index

314, 347, 349; ruler cults 314; s of Demetrios Apama (d. of Demetrios and Stratonike III) 311
Poliorketes and Phila 309, 327 Apama (d. of Seleukos and Apama) 173
Antigonos III Doson 310 Apama (d. of Spitamenes; mar. Seleukos I) 173–​4,
Antigonos (s. of Aristoboulos) 228 186–​94; basilissai 189–​90, 193; eponymous cities
Antigonos (b. of Aristoboulos) 226 194; marriage to Seleukos I 175, 186, 1901;
Antikleia (Odyssey) 273 Miletos 194; political interventions 191–​2;
Antiochianus, Flavius 457 social capital 190; Susa pairings 187–​8, 190
Antiochis (concubine of Antiochos IV Apama (m. of Antiochos) 336
and m. of Alexander Balas) 178 Apama of Kyrene 193–​4
Antiochis (d. of Achaios the Elder; Apame (Abbamuš) 154–​5
m. of Attalos I) 175, 211 Apame (d. Artaxerxes II; mar. Pharnabazos) 155
Antiochis (d. of Antiochos III; m. Ariarathes IV of Apame (d. Spitamenes of Baktria; mar.
Kappadokia) 177 Seleukos I) 155
Antiochis (m. Xerxes of Western Armenia) 176 Apame (mar. Magas; m. of Berenike II) 84, 85, 86
Antiochos I Soter (s. of Seleukos and Apama) ‘Apammu’ (s. of Antiochos II) 175
173–​5, 186, 187, 198–​200, 203–​4, 336–​7 Aphrodite 353
Antiochos II (s. of Antiochos I and Stratonike) Apicata (mar. Seianus) 402
87–​8, 175, 199–​202, 203, 204, 338, 350 Apollonios Rhodios, Argonautika 89
Antiochos III (s. of Seleukos II and Laodice) 74, Apollonis of Kyzikos (m. of Eumenes II and
174–​5, 176–​8, 202–​4, 215, 348 Attalos II) 211–​15
Antiochos III Philokaisar 349 Appian: Syr. 65 176; Syr. 68 179
Antiochos IV Epiphanes (s. of Antiochos III and Aquilia Severa (mar. Elagabalus) 457
Laodike) 176, 177, 178, 222, 348 Ara Concordiae (porticus Liviae) 391
Antiochos V Eupator (s. of Antiochos IV and Ara Pacis Augustae 381, 390–​1, 392, 427, 505, 506
Laodike) 178 Aratos of Soli 313
Antiochos VI Dionysos (s. of Alexander Balas and Aratos the Younger of Sikyon 312
Kleopatra Thea) 178–​9 Archelaos (mar. Kleopatra) 301
Antiochos VIII Grypos (s. of Demetrios II and Archelaos of Kappadokia 181
Kleopatra Thea) 178, 179, 180, 348, 363, 492 Archelaos of Priene 114
Antiochos IX Kyzikenos (s Antiochus VII and Ardašīr I 248
Kleopatra Thea) 179–​80, 348 Ardašīr III 251
Antiochos X Eusebes (s. of Antiochos IX Ardys (s. of Antiochos III and Laodike) 177
Kyzikenos and Kleopatra III) 180 Aretas III of Nabataea 180
Antiochos XI (s. of Antiochos VIII Grypos and Arete (Odyssey) 272, 275
Kleopatra Tryphaina) 180 Argead dynasty: Alexander III succession 321;
Antiochos XIII Asiatikos (s. of Antiochos X basilissai 296; brother–​sister marriages 354; coins
Eusebes and Kleopatra Selene) 180 295; courts 334; polygamy 297–​8; succession
Antiochos Cylinder 187, 336 297–​8; throne names 295, 297; women’s formal
Antiochos Eupator (s. of Seleukos IV and authority 338
Laodike) 178 Argead women 294–​302; female titles 296–​7;
Antiochos Hierax (s. of Antiochos II and strategic marriage policy 299; succession
Laodike I) 175, 176, 201–​2 advocacy 297–​8; titles 296–​7; and war 300–​1;
Antipater/​Antipatros (f. of Phila I and Kassandros) widows 301
190, 308, 323–​5, 327 Argonautika (Apollonios Rhodios) 89
Antipater (f. of Herod the Great) 227, 228 Ariamnes/​Ariaramnes of Kappadokia 176, 201
Antonia the Younger (mar. Drusus; m. of Ariarathes III of Kappadokia (m. Seleukos II)
Claudius and Livia Julia) 402, 403, 404 175, 201
Antoninus, Marcus Aurelius see Elagabalus, Emperor Ariarathes IV of Kappadokia (m. Antiochis d. of
Antoninus Pius, Emperor (mar. Faustina Major; Antiochos III) 177, 215
d. Faustina Minor) 414, 439–​43 Aristides, Aelius 439
Antoninus, T. Fulvus Aurelius (s. of M. Aurelius Aristoboulos (s. of John Hyrkanos and Salina
and Faustina Minor) 444 Alexandra) 225–​6, 229
Antony (Marcus Antonius) 126–​9, 366–​8, 378–​80 Aristoboulos II (s. of Salome Alexander) 227
Antyllus Marcus Antonius (s. of Antony and Aristoboulos III (b. of Mariamme) 228
Fulvia) 128 Aristotle 188
Apama (d. of Antiochos I and Stratonike I) 174, Armenia 127
186, 193, 199 Arnold, D. 17

519
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Index

Arrhidaios/​Philip (mar. Adea/​Eurydike) 297 Attalos II (s. of Attalos I) 211, 215–​16

Arrian 324; Ind. 5.7 482 Attalos III Philometor (s. of Eumenes II and
Arsakid–​Roman hostage submission 240–​1 Stratonike) 210, 216
Arsakid royal women 234–​42; Augustan political Atte, Claudia (concubine of Nero) 407
staging 241; co-​rulership 237–​8; marriage Attila (Attila, il Flagello di Dio) 513
policy 240–​1; political influence 237–​40; Attila the Hun 512
“secondary women” 240; titles and ranks 235–​7 auctoritas/​axioma (“prestige/​dignity”) 389, 394
Arsane (Sassanid) 249 auctoritas materna 389
Arsinoë I (d. of Lysimachos; mar. Ptolemy II) 187 auctoritas parentis 389
Arsinoë II Philadelphos (sister-​wife of Ptolemy Augustae 415, 426, 428, 441, 465, 468
II) 29, 96–​101, 346–​7; amphimetric strife Augustus 238, 241, 388–​94, 408, 415, 499 see also
349–​50; d. of Magas and Berenike I 84; as a Octavian Augustus
domineering woman 354; Philadelphos cult Augustus (I, Claudius) 507–​8
title 338; poetry 110–​13; posthumous cults Aurelian, Emperor 256, 258–​9, 261
78–​80, 97–​8; relationship with husband 109; Aurelius Victor 452, 463
royal conjugal couple 73–​4; Theoi Adelphoi Automa (Aryazate) (d. of Tigranes; mar.
77–​8, 86, 96–​7; Theon Adelphon coins 360–​2 Mithridates II) 236
Arsinoë III Philopator (sister-​wife of Ptolemy IV) Avidius Cassius 418, 445–​6
74, 75–​6, 78–​80, 113–​14, 347 Avitus Bassianus see Elagabalus, Emperor
Arsinoeia festival 78, 97 Avrōmān: I, ll. 2–​5 236; ll. 1. 2 236
Artabanos II 238 Ay (pharaoh; f. of Nefertiti) 36, 40
Artaxerxes I (Ochos; s. of Xerxes I and Amestris) Ayrenis (d. of Alyattes of Sardeis; mar. Ištumegu/​
149, 151, 153 Astyages) 150
Artaxerxes II (Arsaces; s. of Dareios and Parysatis) Āzarmīgduxt (d. of Xusrō II Parwēz) 246–​7, 250,
149, 153, 154, 351 251, 252
Artaxerxes III (Umasu; s. of Artaxerxes II and Azate (half-​sister and wife of Mithridates II) 236
Stateira) 154, 166, 169
Artaÿnte (mistress and niece of Xerxes I 151, 152 Babylonian divine triad 336–​7
Artazostre (sister of Xerxes I) 151 Babylonian Talmud 250
Artemis 291–​2 “bad” Roman women 377
Artemisia I of Karia (d. of Lygdamis) 161, Balakros (mar. Phila) 190, 327
162–​3 bāmbišn (“queen”) 248, 252
Artemisia II of Karia (d. of Hekatomnos; mar. Bardiya (mar. Phaidyme) 151
Maussollos) 161, 164–​9 Barrett, Wilson 509
Artyphios (s. of Megabyxos) 153 Barsine (Stateira) (mar. Dareios III) 155
Artystone/​Irtašduna (mar. to Dareios I) 150, 157 basileia (Iliad and Odyssey) 271–​2
Aryazate (Automa) (d. of Tigranes; mar. basileis 188, 271–​2, 307
Mithridates II) 236 “basilissa Arsinoë Aphrodite” temple 97
Asi’abaṭar (mar. Gotarzes I) 236 basilissai (“queens”) 4; Antigonid 311–​12;
Assurbanipal (grandson of Naqi `a 144, 145 Apama 190–​1; Berenike II 89–​90; classical
Assyrian Empire 482 Athenian literature 188–​9; as diplomats 337;
Astronomical Diaries 192 “doubling” of the court 338; duties 191–​3; first
Astyanax/​Skamandrios (Iliad) 278 queen/​queen mother 336; Hasmonean 225;
Aten (god) 37, 40 Hellenistic monarchies 203, 212; honorific
Athenaios 189 title 189–​90; Iliad and Odyssey 272; Laodike III
Athenodoros (Stoic philosopher) 379 203; Macedonian royal woman 296; Parthian
Atossa (d. of Artaxerxes II) 155 language 235–​6; Phila I 188–​91, 296, 308,
Atossa (d. of Kyros the Great; mar. to Dareios I) 336; Ptolemies 89–​90, 96–​101, 339, 353, 361;
149, 150, 152, 153, 155 Seleukids 194, 339, 353; Stratonike 190–​1;
atrox (“fierce”) 408 terminology 23–​4, 235; Zoroastrian law 236
Attalids 210–​17; marriages 211–​12; motherhood Bassianus, senator (mar. Anastasia d. of
216; mothers 210–​11, 212–​13; religious spaces Constantius I) 464
for dynastic memory 216; and the Seleukid “bastardizing” 297
Empire 211 Bathzabbai (d. of Antiochus) see Zenobia of
Attalos (f. of Philetairos) 210 Palmyra (mar. Odainath)
Attalos I (s. of Attalos of Pergamon and Antiochis) battle of Actium 128
175, 210–​12, 215 battle of Chaironeia 337

520
521

Index

battle of Euia 300 167–​8; Hekatomnids 167, 169; incest and

battle of Gaugamela 300 consanguinity 346; Kommagene 349, 355;
battle of Ipsos 307, 308 Lygdamids 163; Pharaonic dynasties 16,
battle of Issos 158 352; Pontos 349, 355; Ptolemies 99, 335,
battle of Raphia 74, 75 346–​54; securing succession 336; Seleukids 335,
Battle of Salamis 162 348–​9, 353, 355 see also incestuous marriages;
Baumann, Richard 499 marriages; polygamy
Bayer, Christian 27 Brunton, G. 17
BBC: The Epic That Never Was 505, 506; building activities 481
I, Claudius 505, 506, 507; Mothers, Murderers and Burros, Sextus Afranius 407
Mistresses 509 Burton, J.B. 112
Beckerath, Jürgen von, Handbuch der ägyptischen
Königsnamen 24 Caesarion (Ptolemy XV Caesar; s. of Kleopatra
“benefactor gods” (Theoi Euergetai) 79, 86, VII) 123, 124–​5, 127, 128, 336
98, 359 Caesar, Julius 122–​4, 376, 377
Berenike I (mar. Ptolemy I; m. of Ptolemy II) Caesonia, Milonia (mar. Caligula) 403, 416n44
73–​4, 77, 80, 84–​5, 89, 110, 187 Cailleux, Fanny 492
Berenike II Euergetes (d. of Magas; mar. Ptolemy Caligula, Emperor 366, 401, 402, 403–​4, 428
III) 29, 80, 84–​90, 108; basilissa 361; children Callender,Vivienne G. 25; In Hathor’s Image I 24
87; cults 86, 98–​9; death 87; early years 84–​6; Calpurnia (mar. Caesar) 124
female pharaohs 75, 98–​9, 100; and Kallimachos Calpurnius Piso 393
113; and “Lock of Berenike” 74; marriage to Cameo Gonzaga 366
Ptolemy III 85–​6, 347; military deeds 109; Cameo of the Ptolemies 366
poetry 87–​9, 110–​13; Ptolemaic coins 86–​7; Campus Martius 381
regent of Kyrenaika 89–​90; relationship with Canopic jars 17
husbands 109; Thea Philadelphos 86; Theoi Cape Zephyrion 88, 97
Euergetai 78, 86, 98; Theoi Soteres 78 Caracalla, Emperor 240, 260, 453–​6
Berenikeia nomismata 98 Caraway, Hattie Wyatt 511
Berenike (“Mistress of Virgins”) 87 Carney, Elizabeth D. 85, 112, 294, 295, 296, 299,
Berenike “Phernophoros” (d. of Ptolemy II; 300, 301, 349
mar. Antiochus II) 175 Čašmag (consort of Ardašīr) 248
Berenike “Syra” (d. of Ptolemy II) 200, 338, 350 Cassia Longina 424
Berossos the Babylonian 480 Cassius Dio, Roman History 128–​9, 399, 405,
best man (optimus) 413 452, 484; 55.10.15 400; 57.12.2 392; 57.5,
Binothris (Biophis) (king of Dynasty 2) 24 6–​7 401; 60.18 404; 65.3.4 416; 67.15.2 417;
Bion of Soloi 64 71.1.3 412; 72.22.3 445; 72.22.3–​23.1
“black pharaohs” of Kush 61 418; 72.36.4 439; 73[72].14.1 453;
Boa (m. of Philetairos and Eumenes) 210–​11, 76[75].15.6 453; 76[75].15.7 453–​4;
216, 217 77[76].3.1 454; 77[76].4.4 454; 78[77].2.1–​4
Boeotia 114 454; 78[77].2.5–​6 454; 78[77].6.1 455;
Bona Dea temple 390 78[77].10.2 455; 78[77].18.1 455;
Book of Daniel: 11.17 177 78[77].18.2 455; 78[77].18.3 455; 78.1.1 240;
Bōrān (d. of Xusrō II Parwēz) 246–​7, 250, 79[78].31.2–​4 456; 79[78].38 456; 79.23 484;
251, 252 80[79].17.2–​3 457; 80[79].20.1–​2 457
Borchardt, Ludwig 35 Ceionia Fabia (d. of L. Ceionius Commodus)
Boubares (s. of Megabazos; mar. Gygaia) 299 440, 446
Boundary Stelai 37, 39, 40 Ceres (goddess) 427
Bremen, Riet van 263 Černý, Jaroslav 351
Briseïs (Iliad) 271 Chapelle Rouge (Karnak) 50
Britannicus (s. of Claudius and Messalina) Chaqan of the Hephthalites 250, 251, 252
405–​6, 407 chastity (modestia) 485
Brittane (d. of Mithridates II; mar. Chief Royal Wives see God’s Wife of Amun
Antiochos X Eusebes) 180 “chief wife” 298
Brose, Marc 25 Chremonides Decree 75, 109, 353–​4
Brosius, Maria 351 Christian literature 481–​2
brother–​sister marriages: Achaimenid 351; Chronicle of Prince Osorkon 48
Argeads 354; Epiros 355; Halikarnassos “Chronicle of the Esagila” 142

521
522

Index

Chronicle of the Queens of Egypt (Tyldesley) 24 cuneiform scripts 137–​8

Chryseïs (Iliad) 271, 275 Curtius Rufus, Quintus 190, 481, 483;
Chryseis (mar. Demetrios II; and of Antigonos III 5.1.24 482
Doson; m. of Philip V) 310, 311, 312, 314
Cicero, Marcus Tullius 124 Dąbrowa, E. 240
Claudius II “Parthicus Maximus” 261 Dahshur pyramid of Senusret III 17
Claudius (mar. Agrippina the Younger) 367, Damarata (d. of Hiero; mar. Adranadorus) 492
388, 404–​7 Damaspia (mar. Artaxerxes I) 151
Claudius (narrator I, Claudius) 507 Dareios I the Great (mar. Atossa, Artystone and
Claudius the God (Graves) 504–​5 Parmys) 149, 150, 151, 152
Clayman, D.L. 88, 89 Dareios II Ochus (mar. Parysatis) 149, 151, 153,
clay seal-​impressions 364, 365 154, 351
Clodius Albinus 453 Dareios III (mar. Stateira I) 158, 169
coemeterium S. Agnetis 468 Dayr Abu Hinnis quarries 41
coinage: Argead 295; Parthian Empire 239–​40; Decree of Alexandria 99
Sassanid period 249; Zenobia of Palmyra 257, Decree of Chremonides 75, 109, 353–​4
258 see also Roman coinage Decree of Raphia 75
Colbert, Claudette (Émilie Claudette Chauchoin) Decurions of Ostia decree 441
509, 510–​11, 511 De Dea Syria 187
“collective memory” 4 Deianeira (Women of Trachis) 287–​8
Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippensium 416 Deidameia (d. of Aiakides king of Molossia) 309
Colonia Marciana Traiana Thamugadi 416 deification 404, 408, 415, 428–​9
Coma Berenices 88 deified Augustus (sacerdos divi Augusti) 391–​2
Commodus, Emperor (s. of Marcus Aurelius and Delos 188, 193
Faustina Minor) 413–​14, 418, 444 Delphi 166
Concordia Augusta temple 391 Demetrias, Thessaly 314
concubines 6, 235, 237, 339–​40 Demetrios I Poliorketes (Antigonid) (s. of
consanguinity 346–​7 Antigonos and Stratonike) 84, 174, 186, 296,
consolatio Liviae 389 307–​13, 327–​8, 336
Constans (s. of Constantine and Demetrios II (Antigonid) (s. of Antigonos
Fausta) 465, 468 II Gonatas and Phila) 200, 311–​12, 314,
Constantina (d. of Constantine I and Fausta) 464, 347–​9, 348
465, 468–​70, 471 Demetrios I Soter (Seleukid) (s. of Seleukid IV
Constantine Dynasty 463–​71, 471 and Laodice) 178, 309–​10, 313, 348
Constantine I the Great (s. of Constantius I and Demetrios II Nikator (Seleukid) (s. of Demetrios;
Helena) 463–​9, 470, 471 mar. Kleopatra Thea) 178, 179, 363
Constantius II (s. of Constantine I and Fausta) 464, Demetrios III (Seleukid) (s. of Antiochos VIII
465, 468, 469, 470, 471 Grypos and Kleopatra Tryphaina) 180
conventus matronarum 390 Demetrios Kalos (s. of Demetrios I Poliorketes and
Cooney, Kara: When Women Ruled the World 24; Ptolemais) 85–​6, 88
The Woman Who Would Be King 24 Demetrios (s. of Euthydemos) 177
Corbulo, Cnaeus Domitius (f. of Domitia DeMille, Cecil Blount 509, 511
Longina) 416, 417, 424 Demo (concubine of Antigonos II Gonatas) 313
Cornelia (d. of Scipio Africanus; m. of the Demodamas of Miletos 174, 192, 193, 336
Gracchi) 382 De Morgan, J. 17
cornelian intaglio 367–​8, 367 Demosthenes 188, 189
Cornelia Orestilla (mar. Caligula) 403 Dēnag (mar.Yazdegerd II; m. of Hormezd III and
Cornelia Paula, Julia (mar. Elagabalus) 457 Pērōz) 250
Cornelia Solonina (mar. Gallienus), 460 Dēnag (m. of Pābag) 248, 249
court studies 5–​6, 333–​4 Dēnag (sister of Ardašīr I) 248, 250
creation myths 347 Den (s. of Meretneith) 11
Crispus, Flavius Julius (s. of Constantine) destructive rivalry 335
464, 466–​7 Diadochoi (Successors) 199, 307, 323, 347
cult of Alexander the Great 77–​8, 98 Didius Julianus 456
cult of Arsinoë II Philadelphos 78 see also Dido (Aeneid) 492, 499
ruler cults Didyma 193
“cultural memory” 4 Didymeia (possible sister of Seleukos) 173

522
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Index

dignitas (prestige) 389 Seventeenth Dynasty 26; Eighteenth Dynasty

Dio see Cassius Dio 12, 26–​8, 29, 35, 47; Nineteenth Dynasty 28,
Diodoros Siculus: 1.27.1 351; 2.4–​2.20 480; 29, 35, 40, 47; Twenty First Dynasty 29, 48;
2.6.5–​9 482; 18.18.7 327; 19.16 339; Twenty Second Dynasty 48; Twenty Third
20.53.2 328 Dynasty 29, 48, 54; Twenty Fourth Dynasty 48,
Diodotos Tryphon 178, 223 54; Twenty Fifth Dynasty 29, 54; Twenty Sixth
Dionysios of Halikarnassos, Roman Antiquities 498; Dynasty 54; king’s mothers 11–​18; Middle
3.47.4–​5 498; 4.25.3–​4 483 Kingdom 11–​13, 16, 18; New Kingdom 12,
Dionysios (tyrant of Herakleia Pontika) 192 23, 47, 61; Old Kingdom 11, 12–​13, 18; regent
diplomatic marriages 240–​1 women 22–​39; ruler cult 101; rural exodus 125
Diva Domitilla see Domitilla, Flavia (mar. see also Ptolemaic monarchy
Vespasian) Elagabal (sun god) 456
“Divine Adorer” (title) 47 Elagabalus, Emperor 453, 456–​8
divine assimilation 352 Elamite art 156
divine births 12 Elamite royal women 155
divinization 5, 79, 415–​16 Elder Nefertiti statue 40
Djedefra (b. of Khafra) 14 Elektra (Aischylos) 284
Dodson, A. 41 Elektra (Euripides) 284, 286, 290, 291
Dokimos (supporter of Eumenes/​Perdikkas) Elektra (Sophokles) 284, 285–​6, 291
308, 339 Elias, Norbert 333
Dolabella, P. Cornelius 125 Elizabeth II of England 347
Domitia Longina (mar. Domitian) 416–​17, 424, Emesene aristocracy 453
424–​5, 428, 429, 433 encomiastic strategies 112
Domitian (s. of Vespasian and Flavia Domitilla) endogamous marriages 347, 352
413, 415, 416–​17, 427, 428, 430, 432 Engels, David 337
Domitilla, Flavia (mar. to Vespasian) 415, 424, 425, Enheduanna (d. of Sargon of Akkad) 142–​3
427, 428, 430 Enkidu (Epic of Gilgamesh) 139, 140
Domitilla Minor 415 Ephesos 412
Domitius Ahenobarbus, Gnaeus 403 Epic of Gilgamesh 139–​40
Domna, Julia (mar. Septimius Severus; m, of Geta The Epic That Never Was (BBC) 505, 506
and Caracalla) 452–​6, 484 Epigenes 169
domus Augusta 404 epigrams 110
domus Faustae 465 Epiros 355
Doq, Judea 223–​4 Epitome de Caesaribus, 23.1 453
Doric Sparta 274 Eratosthenes 108
dowries 273, 338 Erechtheus (Ion) 288
“Driving the Four Calves” ritual 51, 52 Esarhaddon (s. of Naqi `a) 144
Drusilla, Julia (d. of Germanicus and Agrippina the Eteokles (Sophokles) 286
Elder) 403 “Ethiopia” 63–​4
Drusus Julius Caesar (the Younger; s. of Tiberius) Euboia (d. of Kleoptolemos; mar. Antiochos) 177
390, 401–​2 Euergetes Gate (Karnak) 78
dual kingship 336 Eukratides I of Baktria (s. of Heliokles and
Duindam, Jeroen 333, 335 Laodike) 364
dynastic cults 77–​80, 225 Eumaios (Odyssey) 273
dynastic epithets 337 Eumenes I (s. of Eumenes and Satyra) 211
dynastic marriages 337–​8 Eumenes II (s. of Attalos I and Apollonis) 177, 210,
dynastic succession 335–​7 see also succession 215–​16, 337
politics and processes Eumenides (Aischylos) 496
dynastic women 335 Euripides: Alcestis 288 288; 467–​70 288; Elektra
286, 291; 54–​63 291; 112–​212 291; Hekabe
Edfu Hoard 364, 365–​6, 365 289, 290; Helen 289; Iphigenia in Aulis 90–​2 291;
Edinburgh, Duke of 347 1581–​83 291; Ion 288, 290; Iphigenia among the
Edwards, Catherine 509 Taurians 15–​19 291; 27–​29 291; 220–​4 289;
Egypt: First Dynasty 11, 24–​5; Second Dynasty Medea 287; 1061–​2 290; Orestes 289; Trojan
11; Fourth Dynasty 14, 16, 25; 5 Fifth Dynasty Women 290
13, 14, 25; Sixth Dynasty 11, 25; Eleventh Eurydike (Adea; d. Kynnane and Amyntas; mar.
Dynasty 16; Twelfth Dynasty 16, 17–​18, 25–​6; Arrhidaios) 297, 300

523
524

Index

Eurydike (mar. Amyntas III; m. of Alexander II, Gabinius, Aulus 227–​8

Perdikkas III, and Philip II) 295, 299, 300, 310 Gaetulicus (governor of Upper Germania) 403–​4
Eurydike (mar. Demetrios) 309 Gaius Julius Caesar see Caligula, Emperor
Eurydike (mar. Ptolemy of Aloros) 301 Gaius Marcellus (mar. Octavia Minor) 376
Eurydike of Athens (mar. Poliorketes) 312 Galatians 200, 201
Eurykleia (Odyssey) 273, 277 Galeria Valeria (d. of Diocletian and Prisca) 463
Eusebia (mar. Constantius II) 469, 470 Galerius Arch, Thessaloniki 250
Eusebius of Caesarea, Vita Constantini 3.44 467 Galerius, Emperor 249–​50, 252
Euthydemos, king of Baktria 177 Gallia Narbonensis 391
Eutropius 464 Gallienus 256
Eutychianus (freedman of Maesa) 456 Gallus, Constantius (Caesar; mar.
exalted monarchy tradition 352 Constantina) 468–​9
exardesco (“to burn”) 405 Ganymede (Alkaios) 188
excessive luxury 427–​8 GAŠAN (“princess,” “lady” or “queen”) 235, 236
exogamous political intermarriages 347 Gauthier, Henri, Le livre des rois d’Egypte
(1907–​1917) 24
family unity 213 Gellius (Aulus Gellius) 169
Farroxān Šahrwarāz 251 Geminus, Fufius 393
Fausta, Flavia Maxima (mar. Constantine) gendered pairing of monarchic power 329
464–​7, 471 gens Claudia 406
Faustina Maior (the Elder) (d. of Marcus Verus; gens Flavia 425
mar. Antoninus Pius) 418, 439, 440, 441, 442–​3 gens Iulia 406
Faustina Minor (the Younger) (d. of Antoninus Germanicus Caesar (s. of Drusus the Elder and
Pius and Faustina Maior) 414–​15, 418, 439, Antonia the Younger) 401, 406
440–​1, 442–​6, 453 Gessius Alexianus see Severus Alexander, Emperor
Faustina, Rupilia (mar. M. Annius Verus; m. of Geta, Septimius 453–​4
Faustina Maior) 440 Gibbon, Edward 439
Faustinopolis, Kappadokia 416, 446 Gigantomachy, Great Altar of Pergamon 213
female monarchic power 492 Gilgamesh, king of Uruk (Epic of
female pharaohs 98–​9 see also Egypt; Gilgamesh) 139–​40
Ptolemaic queens Glaphyra (d. of Archelaos of Kappadokia) 180–​1
female power 483 “Glorious Revolution” 368
female sphinxes 50 Gobryas the Patichoraean 151
female virtues 426 goddesses and female virtues 426
femina princeps 388 gods 291–​2
fertility goddesses 416 God’s Wife of Amun 29, 47–​54
Festus: 188 L 381; 276 L 498 “good”/​“bad” Roman women 377
first-​cousin marriages 346 Gordian III 260
First Syrian War 199 Gotarzes I 236
“First Triumvirate” 375 “grand cameos” 366
Flavia Julia (d. of Titus) 424, 425 Graves, Robert 504–​5, 507
Flavian dynasty: Augustae 426; coinage 424, 426–​7; Grayson, A.K. 143
divinization after death 415–​16; succession Great Altar of Pergamon 213, 216
413–​14; “transitional period” 429 Greco-​Egyptian goddesses 101
Flavian portraiture 423–​33; and divinity 428–​9; Greek tragedy 283–​92; lamenting the dead
and exemplary womanhood 426–​7; female 290–​1; monarchial heroines 284–​7;
portraits for “monarchs” 424–​5; illustrations motherhood 289–​90; relations with the
430–​3; Julio-​Claudian model 425–​6 gods 291–​2; royal heroines 287; and ruling
“fleet bronzes” 367 authorities 283, 287–​9
forced hostageship 241 Gundlach, Rolf 28
Fourth Eclogue (Vergil) 377 Gutzwiller, K.J. 89
Fraternal War 176 Gygaia (d. of Amyntas I; mar. Boubares) 299
Fulvia (mar. M. Antony) 377 Gygaia (mar. Amyntas III) 299
Fulvia Plautilla (d. of Plautianus;
mar. Caracalla) 454 Hadrian, Emperor 241, 414, 417, 440–​1, 443
Funerary Chapel of Amenirdis I (Medinet half-​sibling Achaimenid unions 351
Habu) 51, 52 half-​sibling rivalry 348, 349

524
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Index

Halikarnassos 161–​2, 164, 165–​6, 167–​8 Herodotos 152, 154, 163, 351; 1.107.1 150; 1.184
Halkyoneus (s. of Antigonos II Gonatas and 480; 2.100 25; 2.98.1 157; 3.1–​2 150; 3.134.1
Demo) 313 149; 3.155 480; 5.18.1–​2 299; 5.18–​20 299;
Hall, John 492 5.21.2 299; 6.61 274; 7.1.1–​3 163; 7.3.43 149;
Ḥamza al-​Iṣfahānī (m. of Hormezd I) 249 7.99 162; 8.68 162; 8.87–​8 162; 9.114–​119 149
Handbuch der ägyptischen Königsnamen Herod the Great (s. of Antipater; mar. Mariamme)
(Beckerath) 24 227, 228, 230
hand-​over-​wrist gesture 156 hetairai 237
Hannibalianus (mar. Constantina) 468 Hierapolitan decree 215
harems 235, 237 hierarchizing royal wives 335
Harpalos of Babylon (Alexander III’s treasurer) Hieronymos of Cardia 328
189, 296, 300 High Priests of Amun (HPA) 47, 48, 53
Harrison, Juliette 509 Hippika 110
Harris, Rivkah 140 hirtu (“wife of equal status with the husband”)
Hartmann, Udo 260 174, 187
Hasmonean dynasty 222–​30; basilissai 225–​6, Historia Augusta (SHA) 256, 260, 452; Alex. Sev.
229; epigraphic habit 225; high priesthoods 59.8 459; 63.5 458, 459; Aurel. 9.4–​5 411; 20.6
224–​5, 226–​7; Maccabean revolt 222; 418; 27,3 259, 459; 28,4 259, 459; Clod. 3.5
power and identity 224; succession 453; Heliogab. 2.1 456; 4.1–​4 456; Marc. 19.
229–​30; visual representations 225; 1–​7 444; 19. 8–​9 443; TT 30, 1–​3 257–​8;
women 222–​3, 228–​9 Verus 7.7 412
Hatshepsut (mar. Thutmose II; m. of Neferure) Historiae adversum paganism (Orosius) 481–​2
12, 26–​7, 47, 50 Historiae Philippicae (Trogus) 481, 482
Hawass, Z. 14 historical soaps 507
Hebrew Bible 229; Daniel 11.17 177; 1 Maccabees Homeric epics 271–​8
222; 1 Maccabees 13.27–​8 223 Homeros 271n1
Hekabe (Euripides) 289, 290 homonoia (perfect harmony) 109
Hekabe (Iliad) 278 Honoria, Justa Grata (d. of Constantius III and
Hekatomnids 164–​70 Galla Placidia) 513
Hekatomnos of Mylasa (Karian dynast) honorific “titles” 426
164–​5, 167–​8 Horace: Odes 1.37 496; 12 496
Hektor (Iliad) 273, 278 Horemheb (pharaoh) 40
Helena the Younger (d. of Constantine I and Hormezd I 249
Fausta) 464–​70, 471 Hormezd III (s. of Dēnag) 250
Helen (d. of Zeus and Leda) 273–​4, 288–​9, 291 Hormezd IV 251
Helen (Euripides) 289 hostage policies 240–​1
Heliokles and Laodike jugate-​busts 364 Hyginus, astron. 2.24 88
Hellenism 225; courts 333–​5; culture 376; hypogamous marriages 337
dynasties 229; ruler cults 314 Hyrkania (mar. Parysatis) 151
Hellenistic royal women 84; basileiai 201, 203; John Hyrkanos 226
basilissai 189–​90; dynastic marriages 337–​8; Hyrkanos II 226–​8
dynastic succession 335–​7; power 428; power Hyssaldomos (Karian dynast) 164
brokers 338–​40; sexualization 187; wedding Hystaspes (f. of Dareios) 151
festivals 322
Hephthalites 250, 251, 252 Ibanollis of Mylasa and Karia 164
Herakleia Pontika 192 Ibi, Chief Steward of Nitocris 53
Herakleides of Kyme 156 I, Claudius (BBC 1976) 507–​9
Herakles (s. of Alexander III) 321, 324 I, Claudius (Graves) 504–​5
Herakles (Women of Trachis) 287–​8 Idrieus (s. of Hekatomnos; mar. Ada) 165, 166,
Herihor (High Priest of Amun) 47–​8 167, 168
Hermaeus (mar. Kalliope) 364 Ifra Hormizd (m. of Šābuhr II) 250
Hermione (Odyssey) 273 I’h (m. of Mentuhotep II and Neferu) 16
Herodian/​Hairan (s. of Odainath) 260–​1 Iliad (Homer) 271–​2, 273
Herodian, History of the Empire 452; 4.3.8–​9 454; I, Livia (Mudd) 509
4.9.3 455; 5.3.10–​12 456; 5.5.1 456; 5.5.5 456; “illegitimate” children 298
5.7.1–​2 457; 6.1.1–​2 458; 6.1.9–​10 458; 6.5.8 Imi (m. of Mentuhotep IV) 16
459; 6.8.3 459 imperial family (domus Augusta) 439

525
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Index

imperial women 411–​18, 426, 427, 429 Julian (the Apostate) 464–​5, 469–​70
Inanna/​Ishtar (goddess of love and war) 139, Julia the Elder (d. of Augustus; m. of Tiberius)
140, 144 399–​400
incest 346–​7, 351, 353 Julia the Younger (d. of Marcus Vispanius Agrippa
incestuous marriages 347–​53 see also brother–​sister and Julia the Elder) 399, 400–​1
marriages Julia Titi (Flavia Julia) (d. of Titus) 424, 425, 427,
India 482 431, 432, 433
infulae (knotted woolen ribbons) 427 Julio-​Claudian portraiture 423–​33; and divinity
Ingres, Jean-​Auguste-​Dominique, La Maladie 428–​9; and exemplary womanhood 426–​7;
d’Antiochos 186–​7 female portraits for “monarchs 424–​5;
In Hathor’s Image I (Callender) 24 jugate-​bust schemes 366–​7; and pomp 427–​8;
Intaphernes 154 portraits and dynasty 425–​6
Intef III 12 Julio-​Claudians: Augustae 426; naming cities 416
international diplomatic marriages 150–​1 Julius Alexander 453
Iokaste (Oedipus Tyrannos) 492, 493 Julius Avitus Alexianus (mar. Julia Maesa) 453
Ion (Euripides) 288 Julius Bassianus (f. of Julia Maesa and Julia
Ionian Revolt (499—​494) 161 Domna) 453
Iphigeneia (Agamemnon’s daughter) 273, 291–​2 Julius Flavianus 458
Iphigenia (Agamemnon) 285 Junia Claudilla (mar. Caligula) 403
Iphigenia (Iphigenia among the Taurians) 289 Justin (historian/​epitomizer), Epitome historiarum
Irdabama (Abbamuš/​Apame) 154–​5, 157–​8 Philippicarum 481, 492; 1.2.1 481; 1.2.6 481;
Irtašduna/​Artystone (mar. Dareios I) 150, 157 1.2.10 485; 1.2.11 485; 1.4.7 482; 13.6.4 324;
Ishtar see Inanna/​Ishtar (goddess of love and war) 27.3.6 176; 28.1.1–​4 311; 36.4 216; 38.5.3 201;
Isis (d. of Ramses VI) 47 41.3.2 235;
Isis (goddess) 100–​1, 352–​3, 362–​3, 364 Juvenal (satirist), 6.116–​32 404
Ismene (sister of Antigone) 286
Ištumegu/​Astyages (s. of Kyaxares of Media) 150 ka-​chapels (soul chapels) 13
Iullus Antonius 400 Kadmeia (d. of Kleopatra of Macedonia) 297
ius trium liberorum 390 Kallikrates (Admiral) 97
Kallimachos of Kyrene 87, 353; Aitia 89, 110, 111,
Jewish high priesthood 230 112, 113; and Berenike II 109, 112, 113; Lock of
Jewish identity 224, 225 Berenike 74, 87–​8; Victory of Berenike 336
Jewish models for queenship 229 Kalliope (mar. Hermaeus) 364
Jewish Temple 222 Kallixeinos of Rhodes, Ptolemaia 77
Jewish traditions 225, 229 Kambyses I 150
John Hyrkanos (s. of Simon) 223–​5, 226, 229 Kambyses II 150, 151, 351
joint kingship 336 kandake (Meroitic period royal women) 63–​4
joint rule 80 Kappadokia 176, 201
Joliton,V. 80 Karia: adelphic marriages 163; fourth and fifth
Jonathan Apphus (Maccabean brother) 223, 224 centuries 164–​5; royal women 161–​70
Josephus, Flavius 125, 222, 223–​4, 225–​6, 228, 230; Karian League 168
Jewish Antiquities (AJ) 227, 339; 13.398—​404 Karnak 37
227; 15.222—​30 228; 15.251 228; 18.353–​66 Karnak Hypostyle Hall 51
238; 18.39–​43 234, 238; Jewish War (BJ) 1.364 Kašša (d. of Nebuchadnezzar II) 150
238; 1.443—​4 228 Kassandane (d. of Pharnaspes; mar. Kyros the
Joshel, Sandra 507 Great) 150, 151
Joyce, J. 273n23, 278n50 Kassandra (Agamemnon) 285
Judas Maccabaeus 222 Kassandra (Odyssey) 278
Judea 222–​8 Kassandros (s. of Antipatros) 324, 325
jugate busts 359–​68; Antony and Octavian 380; Kawād I Nēwānduxt (d. of Chaqan of
Antony and the Julio-​Claudians 366–​8; political Hephthalites; m. of Xusrō) 251
symbolisms 368; Ptolemies 360–​5; Sarapis-​and-​ Kawād II Šīrōy 251
Isis 362–​3, 364 Kemp, Barry 27
Julia Domna (mar. Septimius Severus; m, of Geta Keraunos (mar. Arsinoë II) 350
and Caracalla) 452–​6, 484 Khafra (Fourth Dynasty king) 12, 14
Julia Drusilla (d. of Caligula and Milonia Khamerernebty I (mar. Khafra; m. of
Caesonia) 403 Menkaura) 12–​13

526
527

Index

“khenmet-​nefer-​hedjet” title 17 Kratesipolis (mar. Alexander s. of Polyperchon)

Khentkaues I (Khentkaus) 14, 25 309, 312
Khentkaues II (m. of King Raneferef and King Kreon (Antigone) 286–​7
Nyuserra) 13–​14 Kreon (Oedipus Tyrannos) 493
Khrysothemis (sister of Elektra) 286, 290 Kreusa (Ion) 288, 290
Kingdom of Kush 61–​9 Ktesias of Knidos 152, 153, 480, 482
King-​Lists (Egypt) 23 Ktimene (Odyssey) 273
king-​lists (Mesopotamia) 138 Ku-​Baba of Kish 141–​2
“King of Kings” title 260, 261 Kurdzād (m. of Hormezd I) 249
King’s Mothers 11–​18, 150, 151, 152–​3, 158 Kushite kingdom 61–​9
King’s Wives 150, 151, 158 Kyniska (d. of Archidamos II of Sparta) 110
Kish, Iraq 141 Kynnane (d. of Philip II and Audata) 300, 325
Kiya (mar. Amenhotep IV/​Akhenaten) 39 Kypris (Aphrodite) Zephyritis see Berenike II
Kleino (concubine of Ptolemy II) 339–​40 Euergetes (d. of Magas; mar. Ptolemy III)
Kleopatra I (d. of Antiochos III; mar. Ptolemy V) Kyrene/​Kyrenaika 85–​6, 300
74, 76, 79, 80, 99–​100, 177, 364 Kyros (II) the Great 149, 150, 151
Kleopatra II (sister-​wife of Ptolemy VI) 29, 74–​5, Kyros the Younger (s. of Darius II and
76–​7, 79, 100, 350, 354, 364 Parysatis) 153
Kleopatra III (mar. Ptolemy VIII) 29, 75, 77, 100, Kyzikos (Mysia, Propontis) 212
350, 354, 364
Kleopatra IV (d. of Kleopatra III; mar. Antiochos Lactantius 463
IX Kyzikenos) 179–​80 “lady” (bānūg) title 248, 252
Kleopatra VI Tryphaina (d. of Ptolemy VIII; mar. Lady of Arbela see Inanna/​Ishtar (goddess of love
Antiochos VIII) 121, 179, 180 and war)
Kleopatra VII Philopator (d. of Ptolemy XII) Laertes (Odyssey) 273, 276
121–​9, 354; and Antony 126–​7, 336, 378–​9; lamenting the dead 290–​1
and Caesar 122–​4, 336; characterizations in Lamia (courtesan of Poliorketes) 313
literature 121, 492, 496; conflict with Octavian Lamia (L. Aelius Lamia Plautius) 416
127–​8; jugate-​busts 364; marriage to Ptolemy Lanassa (d. of Agathokles; mar. Pyrrhos and
XIV 123; and Octavia Minor 378–​9; political Demetrios) 309, 312, 313
power 100; preservation of Maat (world order) “land grants” 127
125; as “Queen of Kings” 127, 336; suicide Laodikean War (Third Syrian War) 87–​8,
128–​9; and Zenobia of Palmyra 263 176, 200, 350
Kleopatra (d. of Olympias and Philip II) 296–​7, Laodike (d. of Achaios; mar. Antiochos II) 175,
300, 322–​5, 335–​6 199, 200–​2
Kleopatra (m. Phraates IV) 238 Laodike (d. of Achaios the Elder; mar. Seleukos
Kleopatra Selene (d. of Kleopatra III; mar. Ptolemy II) 176
IX; Antiochos IX; Antiochos X) 180 Laodike (d. of Antiochos II and Laodike; mar.
Kleopatra Selene (d. of Kleopatra VII and Mithridates II) 175, 201
Antony) 127 Laodike (d. of Antiochos III; mar. (1) Antiochos IV;
Kleopatra Thea (d. Ptolemy VI) 178–​9, 339, (2) Seleukos IV; (3) Mithridates) 176, 178, 348
348, 363 Laodike (d. of Antiochos I Theos; mar.
Kleopatra (throne name) 337 Orodes II) 238
Klytaimnestra (Agamemnon) 284–​5, 291, 495–​6 Laodike (d. of Antiochos IV and Antiochis; mar
Klytaimnestra (d. of Leda and Tyndareos; mar. Mithridates V) 178
Agamemnon) 273, 274–​5, 278, 288, 291, 492 Laodike (d. of Demetrios II and Kleopatra Thea;
Klytaimnestra (Odyssey) 283 mar. Phraates II) 179, 238
Klytaimnestra (Soph. El.) 289 Laodike (d. of Mithridates II and Laodike; mar.
Kombabos, courtier (De Dea Syria) 187 Antiochos III) 176, 177, 202–​3, 338, 348,
Kommagenian dynasties 349, 355 353, 379
Königsmütter des alten Ägypten (Roth) 24 Laodike (d. of Seleukos and Apama) 173
Korda, Alexander 505 Laodike (d. of Seleukos IV and Laodike; mar.
Koromama (mar. High Priests of Amun) 48 Perseus) 178, 312, 313, 338
Kosmartidene (f. of Ochos/ Dareios II) 151 Laodike (mar. Antiochos; m. of Seleukos I) 173
Krateros (mar. Amestris/Amastris, mar. Phila) 155, Laodike (mar. Demetrios I) 348
190, 192, 327 Laodike (mar. Mithridates IV of Pontos) 349
Krateros (s. of Krateros and Phila) 190, 327 Laodike (m. of Eukratides I) 364

527
528

Index

Laodike (sister of Mithridates II; mar. Orodes) 238 lugal (“king”) 138, 141, 236
Laodike Thea (d. of Antiochos VIII Grypos and lunettes 63, 66, 68, 69
Kleopatra Tryphaina) 180 Luxor Temple 12
Largus, Scribonius 508 Lygdamids 161–​70, 163
Laughton, Charles 505 Lygdamis I tyrant of Halikarnassos 161, 162–​3
Leda 273, 274, 275 Lygdamis II tyrant of Halikarnassos 163–​4
legitimacy 298, 424 Lysimachos (diadochi; mar. (1) Amastris and (2)
Lehner, M. 14 Arsinoë II) 192, 199, 349–​50
Leichty, E. 144
Leonnatos, diadochi 324 Maat (ideal state of the cosmos) 22
Lepidus, M. Aemilius (mar. Julia Drusilla) 403–​4 Maatkare (wife of High Priests of Amun) 48
levirate marriages 226, 301 Maccabean brothers 223
Libation Bearers (Aischylos) 285, 496 Maccabean revolt 222–​4
Library of Alexandria 108 1 Maccabees 222; 13.27–​8 223
Libyan chapel 49 Macedonian dynasties: basilissa 296; polygamy
Libyan dynasts 48 297–​8; succession 297, 335–​7
Licinius (Valerius Licinianus Licinius; mar. Macrinus, Opellius 455–​6
Constantia) 464, 465, 467 Macurdy, G.H. 187, 299
Lindner, Martin 507 Maesa, Julia (d. of Julius Bassianus; sister, Julia
Lindsay Philip 506 Domna; mar. Julius Avitus; m. of Julia Soaemias
Livia Julia, Claudia (mar. (1) Gaius Caesar and (2) and Julia Mamaea) 453, 455–​6, 457, 458
Drusus Julius Caesar) 401, 402–​4 Magas of Kyrene (s. of Berenike I; mar. Apame) 84,
Livia (mar. (1) Tiberius Claudius Nero; (2) 85, 89, 193, 199, 200
Octavian Augustus) 388–​94, 423; auctoritas 394; Māh-​Ādur-​Gušnasp (“Master of the Royal
as a broker 393; coins 389; death of Augustus Table”) 251
499, 507–​8; deification 388, 404; femina princeps La Maladie d’Antiochos (Ingres) 186–​7
388–​9; honors 390–​2; as Iulia Augusta 391; Malalas, John 249
morning receptions (salutationes) 392; portrayal Mamaea, Julia Avita (d. of Julius Avitus Alexianus
in films 504–​9; public representation 389–​90; and Julia Maesa) 453, 455, 457–​9
pudicitia 389, 390; sacrosanctitas 379, 380, 390; Mandane (d. of Astyages; mar. Kambyses I) 150
secular games 390; services and benefactions Manetho, Aegyptiaka 11, 23, 24, 25
393; supporting female deities 390; virtues 389; Mania (widow of Zenis) 163
vota publica 392 Manichaean Homilies 249
Livia Soprano (The Sopranos) 509 Manichaean Turfan text M3 250
Le livre des rois d’Egypte (1907–​1917, Gauthier) 24 Marcellus, Gaius (mar. Octavia) 379
Livy 497, 498–​9; 1 499; 1.34.4–​7 493; 1.34–​47 Marcellus, Marcus Claudius (s. Gaius Marcellus
492; 1.39.2 492; 1.41.2–​4 493; 1.45.4–​5 495; and Octavia) 382
1.46.5–​9 495; 1.46.6 496; 1.47.7 496; 1.59.13 Marcellus, Sextus Varius (s. of Julia Soaemias
495–​6; 24.22.1 492; Ab Urbe Condita 491, 499; Bassiana) see Elagabalus, Emperor
female pudicitia and male virtus 389; Per . 50 348 Marciana, Ulpia (sister of Trajan) 414, 415
Llewellyn-​Jones, Lloyd 351 Marcianopolis, Danubia 416
Lock of Berenike (Kallimachos) 74, 87–​8 Marcus Aurelius, Emperor 412–​13, 414, 418, 440,
Lollia Paulina (mar. Caligula) 403, 406 442, 443; Meditations 439, 446
Longinus, Lucius Cassius (mar. Julia Drusilla) 403 Marcus Superbus (The Sign of the Cross) 509
Lorber, C.C. 85, 89 Mardonios (s. of Gobryas) 151
Luagal-​Ane (Akkad rebel) 142–​3 Marduk (god) 142
Lucan: 8.397–​401 235; 8.410–​411 235; Mariamme (d. of Alexandra and Alexander of
10.56–​103 122 Judaea) 228, 230
Lucilla (Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla; mar. Lucius Mark Antony see Antony (Marcus Antonius)
Verus) 411–​13 “market value” of sons 298
Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus see Nero, Emperor marriage alliances 150–​1, 191, 337–​8
Lucius Verus (s. of L. Aelius Caesar; mar. Lucilla) marriages: among blood relatives 248; dynastic
411–​13, 440 337–​8; Iliad and Odyssey 273; hypogamous 337;
Lucretia (d. of Spurius Lucretius; mar. Lucius incestuous 347–​53; levirate 226, 301 see also
Tarquinius Collatinus) 495–​6 brother–​sister marriages; polygamy
Ludi Saeculares 47 CE 405 Martial 428
Lugalbanda (mar. Ninsun) 139 Martinez, K. 99–​100

528
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Index

Maryanski, Alexandra 351 Mithridates V of Pontos (mar. Laodike) 178

mater castrorum title 415, 443–​4, 453, 457, 460, 463 Mithridates VI Eupator (s. of Mithridates V of
Matić, Uroš 28 Pontos) 178
Matidia, Mindia (Trajan’s second great-​niece; sister Mithridates (s. of Antiochos III and Laodike) see
of Vibia Sabina) 418 Antiochos IV Epiphanes
Mattathias (f. of Maccabee brothers) 222 Mithridates (murderer of Kyros) 153
Maussollos (s. of Hekatomnos; mar. sister Mithridates, Parthian noble 238
Artemisia) 163, 165–​9 Mithridates of Pergamon 123
Maxentius (s. of Maximianus and Eutropia) 464, MLKTA (bāmbišn, “queen”) 236
465, 466 MLKTE (basilissa) 236
Maximinus Daia (nephew of Galerius) 463 Modein, Judea 223
Maximinus I (Maximinus Thrax) 459 monarchic power 326, 329
McAuley, Alex 198, 235, 337 “monarchy” (monarchia) 3
Medea (Euripides) 287, 290, 291 monogamy 298, 310
Meditations (Marcus Aurelius) 439, 446 Monroe Doctrine Centennial half dollar
Megabyxos (Parysatis son-​in-​law) 154 (USA) 368
Meketaten (d. of Akhenaten and Nefertiti) 38, 39 motherhood 216, 289–​90
Mela, Pomponius, De chorographia libri tres 481 “Mother” (mād) 252
Melville, S. 144 “mother of the camps” see mater castrorum title
Memnon (Greek commander) 169 Mother of the Gods, Mamurt-​Kaleh 216
Memnon (historian) 192 “Mother of the King” 66–​7
Menander 188–​9 Mothers, Murderers and Mistresses (BBC) 509
Mendes Stele 78 Mousa (mar. Phraates IV; m. of and mar. Phraates V
Menelaion, Sparta 274 Phraatakes) 234, 237, 238–​40, 239, 241
Menelaos (Iliad and Odyssey) 273–​4 Mudd, Mary, I, Livia 509
Menkaura (s. of Khentkaues) 14 Müller, Sabine 353
Mentuhotep II (s. of Intef III; mar. Neferu) multiple wives 6 see also polygamy
12, 16, 18 mundus muliebris 484
Mentuhotep III (s. of Mentuhotep II and Tem) 16 Murrōd (mar. Ardašīr I; m. of Šābuhr I)
Mentuhotep IV (s. of Imi) 16 248, 249
Mercia (The Sign of the Cross) 509 Museia at Thespiai (Boeotian festival) 113–​14
Merenra (mar. (1) Neith and (2) Muses 108–​9, 114
Ankhenespepy II) 14 Museum of Alexandria 108, 114
Meretneith (m. of Den; mar. Djet) 11, 24–​5 Mut embracing Amun (Karnak Hypostyle
Meritaten (d. of Nefertiti) 38–​9, 38, 41 Hall) 51
Meroitic Period (Kingdom of Kush) 62–​6, 68 Mutilia Prisca (mar. Geminus) 393
Meryre II 39 Mylasa 164–​5
Mesopotamian royal women 137–​46; caring Mysta (concubine of Seleukos II) 176, 201
mothers/​loving wives 139, 141; mythological Myth of the Divine Birth 22, 29
women 139; textual evidence for kingship 138
Messalina (I, Claudius) 505 Nabonidus (s. of Adad-​guppi) 145
Messalina,Valeria (mar. Claudius; m. of Napatan Period (Kingdom of Kush) 61–​5, 68
Britannicus) 404–​7, 444 Naqi `a (mar. Sennacherib; m. Esarhaddon) 144–​5
Middle Kingdom 11–​13, 16, 18 see also Egypt Narbo (colony) 391
Middleton, Russell 351 Narcissus, Tiberius Claudius 406, 408
Miletos 193, 194, 336 Narsehduxt (mar. Narseh) 249
military training 300 Narseh (s. of Šābuhr) 248, 249–​50
Milvian Bridge 465 Nausikaa (Odyssey) 272, 273
Mimallones (“imitators of men”) 301 Nebuchadnezzar II (Nabu-​kudurri-​usur) 150
Minervina (mar. Constantine) 464 Neferirkara, pharaoh 14
Mithridates I Kallinikos of Kommagene 180 Neferneferuaten Tasherit (d. of Nefertiti) 37
Mithridates II of Kommagene (b. of Laodike) 238 Neferneferure (d. of Nefertiti) 37
Mithridates I of Parthia 179 Nefertari (mar. Ramesses II) 28
Mithridates II of Parthia (mar. Aryazate) 236 Nefertiti (Neferneferuaten Nefertiti; d. of Ay; mar.
Mithridates II of Pontos (mar. Laodike) 175, 176, Amenhotep IV/​Akhenaten) 27–​8, 35–​42
201, 202, 203 Neferu (d. of I’h; sister-​wife of Mentuhotep II) 16
Mithridates IV of Pontos 349, 363–​4 Neferure (d. of Thutmose II and Hatshepsut) 26

529
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Index

Neferu (sister-​wife of Senusret I) 16 Olympias (mar. Philip II; m. of Alexander III and
Neferusobek (d. of Amenemhat III) 25–​6 Kleopatra) 295–​300, 310, 322–​4, 338, 491, 494
Neithhotep (royal wife Dynasty 1) 24 Olympias II of Epirus (d. of Pyrrhus and Antigone;
Neo-​Assyrian Empire 138–​9, 141, 144, 146 mar. Alexander II) 311
Neo-​Elamite seals 155 Orbiana, Gnaea Seia Herennia Sallustia Barbia
Neoptolemos (Odyssey) 273 (d. of Lucius Seius Sallustius) 458
nephew–​aunt marriages 349 Oresteia (Aischylos) 284
Nergal-​šur-​usur/​Neriglissar Orestes 284, 286, 291, 496
(s. of Nabu-​epir-​la) 150 Orestes (Agamemnon) 495
Nero, Emperor 367, 393, 405, 406–​8, 417 Orestes (Eumenides) 496
Nero Julius Caesar (s. of Germanicus and Orestes (Euripides) 289
Agrippina the Elder) 402 Orestes (Libation Bearers) 496
Nerva-​Antonine dynasty 413–​14, 416 “Oriental harem” 241
Nestor (Odyssey) 271, 272 Orodes I (mar. sister Ispubarzā) 236
Netjerikare Siptah 25 Orodes II (mar. Laodike, d. of Antiochos I) 238
New Kingdom 12, 23, 47, 61 see also Egypt Orontobates satrap of Karia (mar. Ada) 169–​70
Nietzsche, Friedrich 140 Orosius, Paulus, Historiae adversum paganism 481–​2;
Nikaea (d. of Antipatros) 324 1.4.5–​6 482; 1.4.7 485
Nikaia (mar. Demetrios II) 311, 312, 313 Osirian chapels, Karnak 49–​50, 53
Nile flood 125 Osorkon III (f. of Shepenwepet I) 48
Ninos (mar. Semiramis) 480, 482, 485 Osroes, Parthian king 241
Ninsun (m. of Gilgamesh) 139–​40, 141 Otanes (f. of Amestris) 149, 151, 155
“Nitocris Adoption Stele” 53 Otto, E. 12
Nitocris (d. of Psametik) 53 Ovid 388, 389, 400–​1; Ars am. 1.69–​70 382;
Nitokris (Dynasty 6 female king of Egypt) 25 Fast. 6.625–​36 497
Nubia 49, 61 Oxford English Dictionary 347
Nubian chapel 49
Nymaathap (mar. Khasekhemwy) 12 Pābag (f. of Ardašīr I) 248
Nysa (mar. Antiochos I Soter) 174 Pahlavi, Farah 246
Nysa (mistress of Seleukos II) 176 palatium Sessorianum 465, 466
Nyuserra (s. of Khentkaues) 13, 14 Palermo Stone 11, 25
palliola (monumental cloak) 505
Ochos (b. of Dareios) see Artaxerxes I Palmyra (Tadmor) 257, 259–​62
Octavia (d. of Claudius and Messalina; Paris 289
mar. Nero) 406, 407 Parmys (d. of Bardiya; niece of Kambyses II) 150
Octavia Minor/​the Younger (sister of Octavian) Parthian Empire 234, 239–​40
375–​83; and Antony 376, 377, 378; children Parthian “harems” 235
379; coins 366–​7, 379–​80; diplomatic Parthian war 126, 378
negotiator 377; and Julius Caesar 376; and Parthian women 234
Kleopatra VII 378–​9; mar. Gaius Marcellus 376; “Parthicus Maximus” title 261
patronage 379; and Pompey 377–​8; portrait Parthyene, Iran 234
busts 381; sacrosanctitas 379, 380, 390 Parysatis (d. of Artaxerxes I; mar. Dareios II) 149,
Octavian Augustus 126, 127–​8, 128, 375, 381–​2, 151–​2, 153–​4, 157
390 see also Augustus Parysatis (d. of Artaxerxes III) 155
Octavius, Gnaius 381 Parysatis (mar. Alexander III) 301
Odainath (mar. Zenobia of Palmyra) 258, 260–​1 patronage 379, 389
Odysseus 276–​7 Patterns of Queenship (Troy) 24
Odyssey (Homer) 271–​2, 273, 275–​8 Paullus, Lucius Aemilius (mar. Julia the
Oedipus/​Oidipous (s. of and mar. Iokaste) 301, Younger) 400–​1
351, 492, 493 Pausanias: 1.7.1 351; 8.7.5 494; 9.31.1 111
Oedipus Tyrannos (Sophokles) 493 Pausanias (pretender of Macedonia) 300
Ogden, Daniel 75, 198, 349; Polygamy, Prostitutes Peisistratos (Odyssey) 272
and Death 335 Penelope (Odyssey) 272, 273, 274–​8, 470
Ohrmezd(d)uxtag (d. of Narseh) 249 pēnelops 275
Old Kingdom 11, 12–​13, 18 see also Egypt Pepy I (s. of Iput; f. of Pepy II) 13, 14
Olennieire (mar. Phraates IV) 236, 239 Pepy II (s. of Pepy I and Ankhenespepy II) 11,
Olympia 166 13, 14, 15

530
531

Index

Perdikkas (Diadochi) 301, 324, 325 Phrygia 201

Perdikkas II 299, 301 Phthia (d. of Alexander II of Epirus;
Pergamon: Great Altar 213, 216; sanctuary of mar. Demetrios) 311
Demeter 216 pietas (“loyalty”) 427, 452
periphron (“clever, intelligent”) 277 Pithom Stelai 69
periphrōn Pēnelopeia 277–​8 Pixodaros of Kindya (s. of Hekatomnos; mar.
Pērōz (s. of Dēnag) 250 Aphneis) 165, 169
Pērōzduxt (d. of Pērōz) 250 Piye (f. of Shepenwepet II) 49
Perseus (s. of Philip V and Polykratia of Argos) 178, Plancina (Munatia Plancina) 393
312, 313, 338, 347 plant poisons 129
Persian kings: dynastic marriages 151; incestuous Plato, Alk. I 121c–​123c-d 157
unions 153; polygamy 297; throne names 154 Plautianus (C. Fulvius Plautianus) 453–​4
Persian royal women: on campaigns 158; exercising Pliny the Elder, Naturalis Historiae 481; 8.194 497;
local power 163; hierarchy 150; influence over 8.64, 155 484
kings 152, 154; king’s banquets 156; names Plotina, Pompeia (mar. Trajan) 414, 415, 417, 443
154–​5; palace intrigues 153; power of 149; Plotinopolis, Danubia 416
travelling 156 Plutarch (Plutarchos) 129, 152, 191, 491, 492; Aem.
Persis 157 8.1–​4 310; Alex. 2.1 494; 2.2 494; 2.4 494; 3.3
Petrie, F. 17 494; 10.4 494; 39.5 494; 68.3 323; 77.5 296;
Phaidyme (sister of Otanes) 151 Ant. 27.4–​5 121; Art. 5.3 156; 23.3 153; Caes.
pharaohs 98–​9 49.1–​2 122; Demetr. 3.1–​4 309–​10; 9.3 309;
Pharisees 227 10.5 309; 14.2 309, 327; 14.2—​4 309, 310, 327;
Pharnabazos (satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia) 163 17.2–​6 328; 22.1 327; 29.7–​8 328; 31.3–​32.2
Pharnakes I (mar. Nysa) 176 309; 31.5 327, 328; 35.5 309; 36.1–​37.2
Phasael (Herod’s brother) 228 328; 37.4 327; 38.1 309; 41.4 309; 45.1 328;
“Phila Aphrodite” 187 50.5–​52.4 309; 53.1–​3 309; 53.8 327; Eum. 3.5
“Phila” (city) 314 323–​4; Mor. 271e 497–​8; 480C 212; 818b–​c 296
Phila I (d. of Antipatros; mar. Demetrios poisons/​poisoning 129, 508
Poliorketes) 174, 186, 188, 189–​91, 296, 308–​9, political agency 394
312, 314, 315, 327–​8, 336, 347 political alliances 414
Phila II (d. of Seleukos I and Stratonike; mar. political isolationism 350
Antigonos II Gonatas 174, 186, 312, 313, 314 Polyainos: Strat. 4.1 300–​1; Strat. 8.50 175
Philemon 296 Polybios 201, 314; 5.43.1–​4 203; 5.74.4–​6 202;
Philetairos of Pergamon 210, 212 5.74.4–​6; 8.21.7–​23.9 202; 8.20.11 176;
Philinna (mar. Philip II) 298 8.21.7–​23.9 202; 14.11.2–​5 339–​40;
Philip I (s. of Antiochos VIII Grypos and Kleopatra 22.20.1–​3 212
Tryphaina) 180 Polydoros (s. of Priam and Hekabe) 290
Philip II of Makedon (s. of Amyntas III and polygamy 6; Antigonids 310; Argeads 297, 309–​10;
Eurydike) 169, 295, 296–​7, 298–​9, 300, 309, as “barbaric” 298; Demetrios II 310–​11;
310, 313, 322, 337, 494 Hellenistic courts 121; mother’s status 298;
Philip Arrhidaios III (s. of Philip II and Philinna) polygyny 335; succession 297–​8 see also
169, 321, 325 brother–​sister marriages; marriages
Philip V (s. of Demetrios II and Chryseis; mar. Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death (Ogden) 335
Polykratia) 310, 311, 312 Polykaste (d. of Nestor Odyssey) 272
Philippeion monument, Olympia 310, 337 Polykratia of Argos (mar. Philip V; m. of
Philippos (s. of Amyntas) 339 Perseus) 312
Phillips, Siân 507 polymētis Odysseus 277–​8
philoi (“friends”) 199–​200, 327 Polyneikes (b. of Antigone) 286
Philostorgus (historian) 468 Polyperchon 325
Philostratos (philosopher) 124 Polyxena-​Myrtale see Olympias (mar. Philip II; m.
Phraates II (s. of Mithridates I; mar. Laodike) 179, of Alexander III and Kleopatra)
236, 238 Pompey (G. Pompeius Magnus) 122, 227,
Phraates III (mar. Piriwuštanā) 236 376, 377
Phraates IV (mar. (1) Kleopatra; (2) Mousa) 234, Pontic dynasties 349
236, 238–​9, 241 Pontos 201, 355
Phraates V Phraatakes (s. of Phraates IV and Poppaea Sabina (mar. Nero) 367, 407, 426
Mousa; mar. Mousa) 238, 239, 239 Poppaea (The Sign of the Cross) 509–​11

531
532

Index

Porphyry 201 silver tetradrachms 362; sister-​wife Arsinoë III

Portico of Metellus 382 74, 75, 113–​14, 347; Theoi Euergetai 359
Portico of Octavia(Porticus Octaviae) 381–​3 Ptolemy V Epiphanes (s. of Ptolemy IV and
Porticus Liviae 391 Arsinoë III) 74, 76, 79, 177, 347, 364
portrait busts 381 see also Flavian portraiture; Ptolemy VI Philometor (s. of Ptolemy V and
jugate-​busts Kleopatra I) 75, 76–​7, 79, 177
Poseidippos of Pella 89, 109; Ep. 37 113; Ep. 8788 Ptolemy VIII (s. of Ptolemy V and Kleopatra I)
110; Ep. 114 111 75–​7, 79, 350
Poseidonios (f. of Satyra) 211 Ptolemy IX (s. of Ptolemy VIII and Kleopatra III)
praetexta Octavia 404 77, 180
prestige (dignitas) 389 Ptolemy XII Auletes (s. of Ptolemy IX) 121,
Priam/​Priamos: Iliad 271, 273, 278; 122, 123
Trojan Women 289 Ptolemy XIII (s. of Ptolemy XII) 123
priestesses of the imperial cult 393–​4 Ptolemy XIV (s. of Ptolemy XII) 123, 125
primogeniture 335 Ptolemy XV Caesar (Caesarion) (s. of Kleopatra
princeps 389, 415 VII) 123, 124–​5, 127, 128, 336
“princess” (duxš/​wisduxt) 4, 248, 252 Ptolemy (s. of Aboubos) 223–​4
“principal queen” 236 Ptolemy of Aloros 301
The Prophecy of Neferti 16 public space 483
Prusias II of Bithynia (mar. Apama) 311, 313 pudicitia (“chastity,” “demureness”) 389, 452
Psametik (f. of Nitocris) 53 Pulcheria Augusta (s. of Theodosius II) 512
Psametik II (f. of Ankhnesneferibre) 53 Puzur-​Sîn (s. of Ku-​Baba) 142
Psusennes (Dynasty 21) 48 Pyramid of King Unas 15–​16
Ptolemaia (festival) 86 pyramid of Senusret II 17
Ptolemaia (Kallixeinos of Rhodes) 77 Pyramid Texts 15–​16
Ptolemaic monarchy: as basileis and pharaohs Pyrrhos the Molossian 339
100, 359; brother–​sister marriages 335, 347–​8;
coinage 86–​7, 89–​90, 360; divinization 79–​80; Qandīdā (mar. Wahrām II) 249
dynastic cults 77–​80; harmony (homonoia) 109; qore (Meroitic period monarchs) 64
ideals of kingship 359; incestuous marriages “queen” (bāmbišn) 248, 252
348–​9; jugate images 359–​66; legitimation “queen of the empire” (šahr bāmbišn), 248
101; military and artistic activities 108; royal “queen of the queens” (bāmbišnān bāmbišn) 236,
conjugal couples 73–​5; ruler cults 86, 96–​101 248, 252
Ptolemaic queens: associated with Aphrodite Queen of the Sacae 252
353; divinized 109; dynastic and biological “queen” (šarratu) 138, 236 see also basilissai
continuity 109; participation in political affairs (“queens”)
75–​7; patronage of the arts 108–​14; power queens regnant 229
brokers 338–​40; sister-​queens 354
“Ptolemaios” throne name 337 Ramses I 40
Ptolemais (d. of Ptolemy) 309 Ramses II 40
Ptolemy I Soter (mar. (1) Eurydike; (2) Berenike I) Ramses (Ramesses) 29
73–​4, 77–​8, 80, 191, 308, 339, 349, 362 Ramsey, G. 379
Ptolemy II Philadelphos (s. of Ptolemy I and Raneferef (s. of Khentkaues; b. of
Berenice I) 75; and Arsinoë I 84; and Arsinoë II Nyuserra) 13, 14
73–​4, 77, 96–​7, 109, 110–​11, 199, 347, 349, 352, Raphia Decree 74, 79
353–​4, 359, 366; and Berenike I 199; concubine Redford, D.B. 48
Kleino 339–​40; dynastic cults 77–​8; hetaira Reeves, N. 41
Bilistiche 187; jugate busts 359–​62, 360, 361; regencies 11, 192, 297
Library and Museum 108; Theoi Adelphoi 77, 86, regent women 22–​30
346; Theon Adelphon series 361–​2 regina 499
Ptolemy III Euergetes (s. of Ptolemy II and regnant basilissa 192
Arsinoë I) 74; and Berenike II 78, 80, 84, 85, Regulus, P. Memmius 403
85–​6, 108, 347; children 87; death 87; Theoi Reid, John Howard 511
Euergetai 86, 98; Third Syrian War 87–​8, remarriages 301
176, 350 Res Gestae Divi Augusti 381
Ptolemy IV Philopator (s. of Ptolemy III and “Res Gestae Divi Saporis” 248
Berenike II) 108, 359; cult of Berenike II 89; “Restorer of the East” title 260, 261

532
533

Index

restriction of privilege 350 Šābuhr II (s. of Ifra Hormizd) 250

Revenge of the Barbarians (film) 513 Šābuhr III 250
Rhodes 314 sacerdos divi Augusti (deified Augustus) 391–​2
Rhodogune (d. of Mithridates I) 179 sacrosanctitas (public statues) 379, 380, 390
Robson, Flora McKenzie (Flora Robson) 505, 506 Saepta Julia 382
Rōdag (m. of Ardašīr I) 248, 249 Sahura, pharaoh 14
Rōdduxt (d. of Anōšag) 249 Sais Stele 78
Roller, M. 375 Salina Alexandra 226, 229
Roman coinage: Antoninus 456; Antony 380; Sallustia Orbiana, Gnaea Seia Herennia Barbia
assimilation of a goddess 428; diva Faustina 441; (d. of Lucius Seius Sallustius) 458
domestic and public relevance 426–​7; Domitian Sallustius, Lucius Seius (f. of Sallustia Orbiana) 458
427; early imperial coinage 366; Fausta and Salmakis 164
Helena 465–​6; Faustinae 439, 442–​4; Flavian Salome Alexandra (mar. Alexander
iconography 427–​8; Flavian women 426–​7, Jannaios) 222–​3, 226–​7, 229–​30
430–​3; late republic/​early imperial 366; legends Salonia Matidia (Hadrian’s mother-​in-​law)
442–​3, 444, 453; Livia 389; Nerva-​Antonine 415, 417
dynasty 416; Octavia Minor 375, 379–​80; Salus-​Augusta-​coin 389
representing women 442–​3, 442; Severus and Sammu-​ramat (mar. Shamshi-​Adad V;
Caracalla’s reign 453–​4, 455 s. Adad-​narari III) 143
Roman empresses: on films 504–​13; supporters of Sancisi-​Weerdenburg, Heleen 234
Christianity 463–​4 sanctuary of Demeter, Pergamon 216
Rome: and Arsakid marriage policy 240; “good” Sandrokottos (Indian king) 174
and “bad” women 377; and Hellenistic culture Sarapis-​and-​Isis jugate busts 362–​3, 364
375; and Odainath 260; patronage 375–​6, 379, Sargon of Akkad (f. of Enheduanna) 142
389; rule over Judea 227; Tanaquil first female šarratu (“queen”) 138, 236 see also basilissai
“ruler” 492; and USA 509 (“queens”)
Root, Margaret Cool 156 šarru (“king”) 138
Roth, Ann Macy 25, 27 Sassanid dynasty 246–​53; coinage 249; “itinerant
Roth, Silke 23; Königsmütter des alten Ägypten 24 court” 252; legal sources 247; literature 247
“Rough” Cilicia 127 Sataspes (s. of Teaspes) 154
Roxane (mar. Alexander III; m. of Alexander IV) Sat-​re (mar. Ramses I) 47
296, 298, 324, 325 Satyra (m. of Eumenes I) 211
“Royal Canon of Turin” 23 “savior gods” (Theoi Soteres) 78, 96, 359, 362
royal concubines 339–​40 Schatt er-​Rigal rock-​cut 12, 16, 18
royal conjugal couples 73–​5 Scheria (Ionian islands) 275
Royal Tomb (nr. 26) 39 Schiff, Stacy 24
royalty 347, 352 “secondary women” 235, 238
royal women: in ancient monarchy 4–​5; Arsakid Second Syrian War 175, 350
court 235; dynasty 18 27; Homeric Epics “second wives” 298
271–​8; legitimating dynasties 5; literary sēgallu (“woman of the palace”) 139
representation of husbands 444–​5; owning Seianus (Lucius Aelius Sejanus) 392–​3, 402–​3
property 5; power brokers 338–​40; religious Seipel, Wilfried 24
role 5; succession 6, 335–​7; terminology Seleukid Empire: and the Attalids 211; basilissai
23–​4, 235; unaccountable political control 495; 194; brother–​sister marriages 347–​8, 355; dual
warfare 6 kingship 336; genealogy 198; half-​sibling rivalry
ruler cults 96, 99, 100, 101, 174, 177, 213, 314 348; hypogamous marriages 337; itinerant
Rustam (s. of Farrox-​Ohrmezd) 251 courts 334; marriage alliances 198–​204, 312,
Ryholt, Kim 25 337–​8; reigning triad 336–​7; royal women
as power brokers 338–​40; succession 335–​7;
Sabina,Vibia (d. of Matidia Maior; mar. Hadrian) women 173–​81
414, 417, 441 Seleukos (s. of Antiochos VII Sidetes and Kleopatra
Sabine women 377 Thea) 179
Šābuhr, King of Mēšān 249 Seleukos I Nikator (s. of Antiochus): and Apama
Šābuhrduxtag (d. of Šābuhr) 249 173–​4, 175, 186, 187–​8, 190; Miletos and
Šābuhrduxtag (“Queen” (bāmbišn) of the Sacae; Didyma 193; and Mysta 176; royal cult 177; and
mar. Narseh) 249 Stratonike II 174, 186, 191, 198–​9, 309, 312,
Šābuhr I (s. of Murrōd) 248 313; Susa pairings 188, 190

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Index

Seleukos II (s. of Antiochos II and Laodike I) 175, Simon (Maccabean brother) 223–​4
176, 201–​2 “sister-​wife” title 174
Seleukos III (s. of Seleukos II and Laodike II) Sit-​Hathor-​Iunut (twelfth dynasty princess) 17
175, 176 Skamandrios/​Astyanax (Iliad) 278
Seleukos IV Philopator (s. of Antiochus III and snake bites 129
Laodike) 76, 176, 178, 348 Soaemias Bassiana, Julia (d. of Julius Avitus
Seleukos V Philometor (s. of Demetrios II and Alexianus and Julia Maesa) 453, 455, 456, 457
Kleopatra Thea) 179 Sobekneferu (Skemiophris) see Neferusobek (d. of
Seleukos VI (s. of Antiochos VIII Grypos and Amenemhat III)
Kleopatra Tryphaina) 180 Solon 290–​1
Semiramis (mar. Ninos) 479–​86; Assyrian queen Sophokles: Aias 290; Antigone 290, 291; Elektra
480; Babylon 480–​1; female power in “male 290, 291; Elektra 285–​6, 289; Klytaimnestra 289;
action” 486; military campaigns 482; model Oedipus Rex 491; Oedipus Tyrannos 492; Women
for Alexander III 483; moral judgment 484–​5; of Trachis 287
public space 483; role in Assyrian government The Sopranos 509
481; sexual practices 482, 484, 485 Sosianus, Gaius 382
“senate of women” (senatus mulierum) 456 Sotades (poet) 346
Seneca, Brev. vitae 4.6 400 sources 3–​4
Sennacherib (m. of Esarhaddon) 144, 187 Sozomen 467
Senusret I (mar. Amenemhat I) 16 Sparta 274
Senusret II (s. of Senusret I and Amenemhat Spartacus (film) 510
I) 16–​17 Spartacus (TV show) 510
Senusret III (s. of Weret I) 16–​18 Spitamenes of Baktria (f. of Apame) 155, 173, 190
Septimia Zenobia see Zenobia of Palmyra Stabrobates 482
(mar. Odainath) Stateira (Barsine) (mar. Dareios III) 155
Septimius Bassianus see Caracalla, Emperor Stateira (d. of Hydarnes) 155
Septimius Severus, Emperor (mar. Julia Stateira (mar. Artaxerxes II) 153, 155, 156
Domna) 452–​4 Stateira (mar. Perdikkas) 301
Šeraš (d. of Hubanahpi) 155 statue of Cornelia 382
Servilla (mistress of Julius Caesar) 377 statues 425
Servius Tullius 483, 494–​8 Staxryād (mar. of Šābuhr I 249
Setepenre (d. of Nefertiti) 37 Stephanos of Byzantion 174
Sety II (s. of Merenptah) 28 stepmother marriages (levirate) 226, 301
Seuthes (nephew of Sitalkes; mar. Stratonike) 299 Sternberg, Josef von (Jonas Sternberg) 505
Severan Dynasty 452–​60 Strabo (Strabon) 64, 129; 5.3 391; 14.5.3 127;
Severa, Otacilia (mar. Philip the Arab) 459 15.1.5–​6 482; 16.1.2 480–​1
Severina (Ulpia Severina) (mar. Aurelian) 460 Stratonike I (d. of Ariarathes IV and
Severus Alexander, Emperor 457, 458–​9 Antiochis) 215–​17
shame (pudicitia) 485 Stratonike I (Seleukid) and II (Antigonid) (d. of
Shamhat (Epic of Gilgamesh) 140 Demetrios I Poliorketes and Phila) 186–​94;
Shamshi-​Adad V (mar. Sammu-​ramat; Akkadian royal titles 192; and Antiochos I
s. Adad-​narari) 143 174, 186–​7, 198–​200, 308–​9; associated with
Shapur I 235–​6, 260 Aphrodite 353; basilissai 189–​90, 193; cults 187;
Shepenwepet I/​Khenemetamun (d. of Osorkon dedications at Delos 188, 193; and Dokimos
III) 29, 48–​9 339; and Kombabos 187; marriage of children
Shepenwepet II (d. of Piye) 49–​50, 51, 52, 52, 53 199; marriages and legitimacy 191; military
Shepseskaf (m. Khentkaues I) 14 campaigns 327; and Seleukos I 186, 199;
Shiduri (Epic of Gilgamesh) 140 sexualization 187–​8, 193
Siake (half-​sister and mar. Mithridates II) 236 Stratonike II (d. of Demetrios I and Phila I) 308,
“sibling gods” (Theoi Adelphoi) 74, 77–​8, 86, 96, 309, 311, 312, 313
346, 359 Stratonike III (d. of Antiochos I and Stratonike II)
sibling marriages 14, 350–​3 311, 312
signet rings 363, 364 Stratonike (d. of Alexandros I) 296
The Sign of the Cross (film) 509 Stratonike (d. of Antiochos I and Stratonike I) 174,
Sign of the Pagan (film) 512 186, 199
Silius, Gaius 405–​6 Stratonike (d. of Antiochos II and Laodike) 175

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Index

Stratonike (sister of Perdikkas II; mar. Seuthes) 299 temple of Bona Dea 390
Strato (s. of Agathokleia) 364 temple of Concordia 391
Strong, Anise K. 512 temple of Fortuna Muliebris 390
succession politics and processes 6, 193, 297–​8, temple of Hathor, Dendera 125
413–​14 see also dynastic succession temple of Hatshepsut, Deir el-​Bahari 12
Successors (Diadochoi) 199, 307, 323, 347 temple of Hermonthis, Armant 125
Suetonius, Lives of the 12 Caesars 123, 381, 399; temple of Homer 114
Aug. 43.3–​4 241; Cal. 24.1 403; Cal. 24.3 403; temple of Kom Ombo 125
Cal. 25.4 403; Cl. 45.1 407; Dom. 10.2 416; Iul. temple of Mut, Karnak 52
22.2 481, 483; Titus 10.2 417 “temple-​sharing gods” (Synnaoi Theoi) 79, 80,
suitors (Odyssey) 276–​7 99, 359
Sumerian language 137–​8 temple to Dionysos Pseudanor 301
Surenas (Parthian noble) 237 Teos 213, 214
Susa pairings 190 Teritouchmes (s. of Hydarnes) 153
Svärd, S. 145 Tertullian: Ad nat. 1.16 301; Apol. 9.16–​17 301
syllogos of Halikarnassians and Salmakitai 164 Tetisheri (mar. Taa I) 26
Syme, R. 376 tetradrachms (pentekontadrachmon) 362
sympoliteia 164 tetrarchy 468
symposia 299 Teye (mar. Ay) 36
Synnaoi Theoi (“temple-​sharing gods”) 79, 80, Thea Apollonis Apobateria 213
99, 359 Thea Philadelphos (“Brother-​Loving
Goddess”) 86, 97
Taa I (mar. Tetisheri) 26 Theater of Marcellus 382
Ṭabarī: 2, 879 250; 2, 994 250 Theban Tomb 36
taboo 347 Theodosius II 512
Tacitus, Annales 399, 402, 499; 1.40.1–​4 401; Theoi Adelphoi (“sibling gods”) 74, 77–​8, 86, 96,
4.11.2 402–​3; 4.3 402; 11.12.2 405; 11.26 406; 346, 359
11.37.2 406; 12.1–​2 406; 12.25 406; 12.44.2 Theoi Epiphanes (“appearing/​manifest gods”) 79
237; 12.65 408; 12.68 407; 12.7.3 406; 13.45 Theoi Euergetai (“benefactor gods”) 79, 86, 98, 359
407; 14.2 407; 14.2.2 401, 404; atrox (“fierce”) Theoi Neoi Philadelphoi (“new sibling-​loving
408; exardesco (“to burn”) 405 gods”) 122
Tadmor see Palmyra (Tadmor) Theoi Philometores (“gods who love their
Taharqa, king 50 mother”) 79
Takeloth III 48 Theoi Philopatores (“gods who love their
talatat blocks 36 father”) 79
Tanaquil (mar. Tarquinius Priscus) 491–​5, 497–​500 Theoi Soteres (“savior gods”) 78, 96, 359, 362
Tarentum 378, 380 Theoi Synnaoi (“temple-​sharing gods”) 359
Tarquinius Priscus (mar. Tanaquil) 491, 494 Theokritos 346, 353; Idyll 15 112; Idyll 17 352;
Tarquinius, Sextus (s. of Tarquinius Superbus) “Praise of Ptolemy (II)” 74
494, 495 Theon Adelphon octodrachms 360–​2, 364
Tarquinius Superbus 491, 495 Theopompos 296
Tarquin the Proud 495 Thermae Helenae 465
Tarsos 126 The Sopranos (TV show) 509
Tausert (mar. Siptah) 47 Thessalonike (d. of Philip II) 296
Tawosret (mar. of Sety II) 28 Third Syrian War (Laodikean War) 87–​8, 176,
Teaspes 154 200, 350
Tegea 166 throne names 297, 337
“Teilreich” (part-​kingdom) 259 Thucydides 299
Tekmessa (Aias) 290 Thutmose I (f. of Hatshepsut) 27
Telemachos (Odyssey) 272, 276, 277 Thutmose II (mar. (1) Hatshepsut; (2) Iset) 26
Tem (m. of Mentuhotep III) 16 Thutmose III (s. of Thutmose II and Iset) 26, 27
temple Esagila 142 Thutmosid family 36–​7
temple for Amun, Kawa 62 Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar see Nero, Emperor
temple for Mut, Jebel Barkal 62 Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus 413
temple of Apollo Medicus Sosianus 382 Tiberius (s. of Nero and Livia) 388–​94, 403
temple of Apollonis, Kyzikos 216 Tigellius (M. Tigellius Hermogenes) 124

535
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Index

Tigranes (mar. Azate) 236 Vita Constantini (Eusebius), 3.44 467

Tigranes II of Armenia 180, 236 Vitruvius (Marcus Vitruvius Pollio) 379
Tirrazziš (Shiraz) 157–​8 Vologeses I (m.Vonones II) 237
Titius, Marcus (governor of Roman Syria) 241 von Recklinghausen, D. 99–​100
Titus (s. of Vespasian and Flavia Domitilla) 413, vulture headdresses 12–​13
415, 424, 426, 431
Tiye (Tiy) (mar. Amenhotep III) 27–​8, 36 Wahballath (s. of Odainath and Zenobia)
Tjuloy, priest 23 258, 261
Tobiad family of Jerusalem 339 Wahrām Cōbīn 250
tragic monarchial women 287 Wahrām I 249
Trajan (mar. Pompeia Plotina) 241, 414 Wahrām II 249
Treaty of Apamea 215 Wahrām V Gōr (mar. Kawād I Nēwānduxt) 251
treaty of Zakutu 145 Warāzduxt (d. of Xwar(r)ānzēm) 248, 249
Trogus, Pompeius (Trogus-​Justin) 86, 296, 492; warfare 6
Historiae Philippicae 481, 482 Warsaw relief 455
Trojan “royal” women 278 weaving 274, 275, 276, 277–​8, 498
Trojan Women (Euripides) 289, 290, 291 Wenghofer, Richard 337
Troy, Lana, Patterns of Queenship 24 Weret I (m. of Senusret III) 16–​18
Tryphaina (mar. Antiochos VIII Grypos) 492 Westcar Papyrus 14
Turin King-​List 25 When Women Ruled the World (Cooney) 24
Turner, Jonathan 351 Widmer, M. 199, 348
Tutankhaten (Tutankhamun) (mar. widows 262, 301
Ankhesenpaaten) 41–​2 wife of Simon 223–​4
Tuy (mar. Seti I) 47 William of Orange and Mary II 368
Tyldesley, Joyce, Chronicle of the Queens of Egypt 24 Wise, Herbert 507
Tyndareos 274 “woman of the palace” (Bab. ša ekalli) 150
woman’s libido 405
Ulpia Marciana (sister of Trajan) 414, 415 The Woman Who Would Be King (Cooney) 24
Ulpian (jurist) 458 Women of Trachis (Sophokles) 287
Ulpia Severina (mar. Aurelian) 460 wreaths 427
Ulysses (Joyce) 273n23, 278n50 Wright, Nicholas 335
uncle–​niece marriages 349 Wyke, Maria 505
Urgulania (Etruscan matriarch) 492
USA 368, 509 Xenophon: An. 1.4.9 152, 157; basilissa 188–​9;
Userkaf, pharaoh 14 Hell. 3.1.10–​15 163; Kyr. 7.4.1–​7 165
Xerxes I (s. of Atossa; mar. Amestris) 149, 151,
Valerius Maximus: 9.3, ext. 4 483–​4; 10.7 498 154, 162
Varius Avitus Bassianus (Elagabalus) 453, 456–​8 Xerxes II (m. Damaspia) 151
Varro 497 Xerxes of Western Armenia (mar. Antiochis) 176
Velleius Paterculus 392 Xusrō II Parwēz 250, 251
Ventidius Bassus 126 “Xusrō ud rēdag” 247
Venus 426, 428–​9, 431 Xuthus (Ion) 288
Vergil: Aeneid 492, 499; Fourth Eclogue 377 Xwar(r)ānzēm (m. of Warāzduxt]) 248, 249
Vergina-​Aigai 300 xwēdōdah (marriage among blood relatives) 248
Verner, M. 14
Verus, M. Annius (mar. Rupilia Faustina; f. of Yazdān-​Friy-​Šābuhr (mar Šābuhr III) 250
Marcus Aurelius) 440 Yazdegerd II (m. of Hormezd III and Pērōz) 250
Vespasian 413, 424 Yon, Jean-​Baptiste 261–​2
Vesta 390, 426 Younger Lady mummy 40
Vestal Virgins 390, 392
Vetranio, co-​Emperor 468 Zenobia of Palmyra (mar. Odainath) 256–​63; Arab
“Vice is nice” (Strong) 512 queen 263; Augusta/​Sebaste 259; basilissa/​mlkt’
Victoria Berenikes (Kallimachos) 89, 113, 336 258, 262; coins 257; guardian of Wahballath 261;
Vinicius, Marcus (mar. Julia Livilla) 403 and Kleopatra VII 263; regina orientis 259; rise to
virtues 389 power 259, 260; and the Roman Empire 259; as
visual representations 423, 424 a widow 262–​3

536
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Index

Zenobia (Sign of the Gladiator) 512 Zeus Sabazios (Pergamon) 216

Zeus 273 Ziaelas, King of Bithynia 176, 202
Zeus and Hera (sibling-​spouses) 352 Zonaras (12.5), 12.5 458
Zeus Dodoneus (consort Dione) 363 Zopyros (grandson of Amestris) 153
Zeus Labraundos 168–​9 Zosimus 466, 470; New History 458

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