How far did Messalina conform to the expectations of Roman women?

Messalina was far from a paragon of Roman virtue and has historically been portrayed as a sexually insatiable schemer and a threat to traditional Roman morality. Although she possessed intelligence and political awareness, the direction in which she exercised her power was highly questionable to the ancient Romans, as she allegedly turned to debauchery, adultery, and even planned murder in her later life once married to Claudius. Unfortunately, Tacitus, Suetonius, and Cassius Dio are the only sources we have of Messalina’s life, with each of them painting her in a negative light, and the undertones of their own political biases and profound misogyny are evident in their accounts of Messalina, meaning we cannot fully trust these. Tacitus and Suetonius, for instance, were both sensationalists and often emphasised the dramatic and scandalous events of history in order to entertain their readers rather than recounting historical events, and Cassius Dio wrote two centuries after Messalina’s death. With all that in mind, it is important to consider that women like Messalina were particularly susceptible to narrative manipulation, and her story was likely altered to match their authors’ values. If, however, we follow Messalina's story the exact way in which it was written by sources, her attitude would have strongly deviated from the expectations of a typical Roman woman.

Typical, lower-class women in ancient Rome were defined by their domestic roles, whether in childbirth or running the house. On the other hand, aristocratic women like Messalina would have likely been well-versed in Homeric literature, philosophy, rhetoric, and arithmetic, assuming her upbringing was similar to other Julio-Claudian women in her family. However, this is a mere assumption; neither Tacitus, Cassius Dio, nor Suetonius wrote about Messalina’s education, and instead were intent on slandering her reputation and twisting her image to align with their own political and moral stances. Supposing Messalina was educated, her upbringing would have been the norm during her time considering she was of noble descent, and educating women at the time was particularly fashionable, although women were not allowed to make use of their education and publish their thoughts or ideas, of course. Messalina would have therefore been educated by tutors merely to enhance the image of the Julio-Claudians and to be flaunted at prestigious dinner parties. Unsurprisingly, as male historians tend to only care for women when they are affiliated with a powerful man, there is very little information about Messalina prior to her marriage with Claudius, and we therefore cannot analyse her childhood in more depth.

If we work parallel with the events of Messalina’s life in our sources, we begin with her marriage to Claudius in 38 AD. Depending on when Messalina was born, which scholars have debated for years, the age at which she got married to Claudius ranges from 13 years old to 17 years old, Claudius being 47 years old at the time. Either way, Messalina was still young and forcefully married to a man whom she did not choose to marry in the first place. During the time of her marriage, there were still laws against adultery and a clear double standard which decreed that married women were not allowed to engage in sexual acts with other men. If a married woman was caught with her adulterer, her husband had the right to kill him on site. As for the adulterous woman, she would be banished to a remote island. Men, on the other hand, were allowed to have sex with any unmarried women of their choice, and frequently going to brothels was the norm, or having dinner parties with hetairai if the man was wealthy enough. In Messalina’s case, her husband was constantly having affairs with women, particularly his two favourite mistresses, Calpurnia and Cleopatra, so why couldn’t she? Given this blatant hypocrisy, it is worth questioning why Messalina’s sexual conduct elicited such outrage. According to Juvenal, Messalina would disguise herself in a blonde wig and cloak and adopt the name ‘Lycisca’ to secretly work as a prostitute in the brothels of Rome. Her sexual appetite, if the sources are to be believed, only intensified over time, culminating in affairs with prominent men within Claudius’s own court. Some accounts even claim she slept with nearly every male member of the imperial household.

The final scandal surrounding Messalina was her affair with Gaius Silius, which Tacitus presents as an audacious act of treason. While Claudius was away addressing a grain shortage, Messalina allegedly married Silius in a public ceremony and hosted a wedding banquet at the imperial palace. Ironically, it was Claudius’s own mistresses who informed him of the betrayal. In response, Claudius ordered the execution of every man involved with Messalina. Narcissus, one of Claudius’s freedmen and a former ally of Messalina, fearing Claudius might relent, ensured her immediate execution, bringing an abrupt and violent end to her controversial life.

But what was Messalina’s ulterior motive? Was it a lust for salaciousness or a lust for power that drove her to commit adulterous affairs? It is entirely possible that adultery, in Messalina’s case, functioned as more than just a personal indulgence, it was a political tool. By aligning herself with influential senators, Messalina may have been building her own network of power and influence within the imperial court, possibly even plotting to replace Claudius with Gaius Silius, who was young, politically ambitious, and widely respected. In this sense, her sexual relationships could be seen as strategic alliances, not simply acts of desire. In addition, Messalina used murder as a means of eliminating threats to her authority. According to Tacitus, she orchestrated the execution of Appius Silanus, a former consul whom she first tried to seduce. When he rejected her advances, Messalina, fearing he could expose her or gain favour with Claudius, falsely claimed that Silanus had attempted to assassinate the emperor. A dream was conveniently fabricated in which Claudius was warned of Silanus’s supposed plot, and shortly after, Silanus was executed without trial. Her actions suggest a woman who not only used adultery for influence but also understood the effectiveness of political murder in securing her position within the imperial court.

Messalina’s death itself was swift and brutal, and notably, she was given no formal burial, also known as damnatio memoriae in Latin. Her memory was condemned and her name erased from public records. This absence of ritual and remembrance stands in contrast to the epitaph of Murdia (27 BC), which honours a Roman woman with the words: ‘She did not yield to anyone in virtue, work and wisdom during times of danger.’ Murdia was celebrated for her fidelity and traditional female virtues, which aligned perfectly with Roman ideals of womanhood. Messalina, on the other hand, represented the exact opposite in the eyes of her chroniclers; ambitious, sexually liberated, and politically assertive. While Murdia’s virtues earned her a grave inscription that preserved her legacy, Messalina’s reputation ensured her legacy was ruined. Ultimately, Messalina’s lack of burial is symbolic of her complete exclusion from the idealised expectations of women.

Although Messalina is not a feminist role model, she was a victim of misogyny and learned to survive in a ruthless, male-dominated world. The sources we have do not offer an objective account of her life, but instead a heavily filtered narrative shaped by the values, politics, and gender norms of their time. Whether Messalina truly sought power through scandalous means or was simply the target of political slander, her story illustrates how powerful women in ancient Rome were often vilified. She was a product of a system that both enabled and condemned her, and the sources we have reveal more about society than her actual character.