The Biography of Julia Maesa: Kingmaker of the Severan Dynasty
If you wanted to write a novel full of political intrigue and deep cunning, Julia Maesa could easily be the primary antagonist or main character. The genius web weaver of the Severan Dynasty was responsible for killing two emperors while appointing two from her bloodline.
The Emesene women came from a prominent family in Emesa, Syria, and elevated them to the height of Roman society. By the time her life ended, she was seen as a brilliant politician with no qualms about eliminating any opposition.
The Emesene women came from a prominent family in Emesa, Syria, and elevated them to the height of Roman society. By the time her life came to a close, she was seen as a brilliant politician who had no qualms about eliminating any opposition.
Unfortunately for Julia, her offspring failed to show the same evil wit and brilliant mind, and the Severan dynasty ended abruptly. In this article, we will review the biography of one of the most fascinating people in Roman history — Julia Maesa.
The Biography of Julia Maesa
Born in May sometime before 160 AD, Julia was the daughter of the High Priest of Elegabal, Julius Bassianus. A family of some renown in the area, Julia had a fortunate upbringing that likely gave her a better education than most.
We can only hope that whoever taught her during her upbringing was well paid because Julia went on to outwit just about everyone she came across effortlessly. There aren’t any details about her appearance, but coins depicting her appearance reflect the face of someone ready to kill their grandkid for getting out of line.
More on that later.
When the time came for her to be wed, she married Roman senator Julius Avitus. Julius could be better recorded in history, but the little we do know speaks to him being a proficient and intelligent politician.
Julia had a sister, who was also named Julia — because Romans lacked imagination.
Julia Maesa’s sister, Julia Domna, was said to be a beautiful and caring woman who was introduced to a promising young military leader named Septimius Severus. Septimius Severus and Domna eventually wed, and after a bloody conflict for the throne that saw two dead rulers, Septimius became emperor.
This summary is a very abridged version of an exciting time in Rome, but it would take entirely too long to get into. Suffice it to say, Septimius became emperor and was far too militarily capable to fuck around and let some guy in a toga take it from him.
Interestingly enough, Septimius had been introduced to Maesa first, though she was already married. It’s hard to imagine what would have happened had Maesa been wed to Septimius, though it probably would have ended with a lot more people dead.
Julia’s sister, Julia — hold on. Julia Maesa’s sister, Julia Domna, was far more empathetic and kind by all historical accounts. It was some form of cosmic sympathy that Septimius was wed to the nicer sister.
You’re welcome, Parthia.
Anyway, Maesa had two daughters with her husband, Julius. Not to be confused with Julia’s father, Julius. The names of her daughters were Julia Soaemias and Julia Mamaea.
I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it.
Imagination might have been in short supply during the 2nd century, but narcissism was at a fever pitch.
The Reign of Caracalla and Geta
When Septimius took the throne, the rest of the Emesene Dynasty moved to the capital. Julia Maesa did not take long to put her claws into the bustling economy and became quite rich during the reign of Septimius.
Her sister, Julia Domna, had two sons named Caracalla and Geta. These two hated one another in a way that is hard to put into words. So when Septimius passed away, Julia Domna had her work cut out for her.
Both wanted to separate the empire into two and rule one half separately. For those who are familiar with Roman history, this would have been a bad idea.
Julia Domna wisely recommended that they co-rule, which both reluctantly accepted. The two had an icy relationship that extended to their servants, not allowing any to talk to the other emperor.
During the festival of Saturnalia, Caracalla tried to kill Geta unsuccessfully. This made things slightly awkward, so Caracalla asked his mother to arrange a truce the next week between the two.
The idea was simple: if the two couldn’t even talk with each other without guards present to avoid assassination, how would they run the empire? Reluctantly, Geta came without guards to meet with his mother and Caracalla. Caracalla was happy to see his brother had finally learned to trust him.
Caracalla then stabbed him to death with a bunch of his guards.
Oops.
Caracalla now ruled the empire exclusively, and Domna had lost a fair bit of her own influence, as absolute power and sociopathic tendencies make for a lousy listener. Caracalla was terrifying, and everyone was too scared to call him out on his murderous eccentricities.
An advisor and praetorian prefect, Macrinus, had been with Caracalla around 217 during a very awkward meeting. A prophecy was spoken declaring that Macrinus would kill and usurp the throne from Caracalla.
We don’t know how Caracalla took this news, but Macrinus was probably rubbing his neck a lot. Macrinus was in a tough position; if he didn’t do anything, he would have surely been killed. If he did make an attempt on Caracalla’s life, he could not screw it up.
Do you think he…
A) Poisoned his wine during a meeting?
B) Sent the praetorian guard to assassinate him?
C) Drowned him in his own palatial bathhouse?
D) Got a dude to stab him while he was pissing?
If you picked D, you’re an idiot, but you are also correct. While on a campaign, Caracalla walked away to answer the call of nature. While he did, a disgruntled soldier went behind him and stabbed him through. If you feel bad for Caracalla, look into him a bit. You’ll get over that very quickly.
Julia Maesa & Macrinus
Julia Domna was shattered, vengeful, and openly murderous. Her husband, sons, and dynasty had crumbled beneath her, and the man who had orchestrated the final blow was declaring himself emperor. In a merciful mistake, Macrinus exiled the family but did not execute any of them.
Domna was placed on house arrest after Macrinus learned that she was trying to kill him. I’m unsure why he had to be informed of this; he killed her son. The rest of the family, Julia Maesa, her two daughters, and her grandchildren, returned to Syria.
Julia Maesa was in a tough spot; her family had lost their station, they had no legitimate heirs, and her sister had just committed suicide. What she did have was wagons full of fuck-it money, a brilliant mind, and a grandson who almost looked like Caracalla. Sort of, if you tilt the candle a certain way and squint a while at him.
Macrinus had his hands full as well, trying to snuff out the several conflicts that Caracalla had started while also trying to appease the Roman senate. Because of this, he hardly had time to worry about the sister of a former empress.
All things considered, it’s hard to put too much blame on Macrinus, who could feel the walls closing in since that dork made a prophecy that nearly sealed his fate.
Julia Maesa started spreading a rumor that her daughter, Julia Soaemias, had an affair with the former emperor Caracalla. This fictional affair resulted in a bastard son known as Elegabalus. We don’t know how her daughter felt about this rumor, but from what we know of Julia Maesa, she likely wasn’t overly concerned.
She also said that her other daughter, Julia Mamaea, slept with Caracalla and produced a child as well. That way, both had a claim to the throne. This is an old Roman strategy known as a backup plan, and it will come up later.
Whether people believed in this rumor isn’t certain, but we do know that they strongly believed in Julia Maesa’s money. So, during the dim lighting of a Syrian night, Julia and some guards snuck into a military encampment with young Elegabalus, with everyone proclaiming him the rightful emperor.
Julia Maesa now had a fortune, a legion, and a (sort of) legitimate claim to the throne. While it isn’t said in the histories of the time, she also spent quite a bit of time in the capital and may have had a few important friends back at the senate.
Meanwhile, Macrinus was very politely telling the soldiers that newer recruits were going to have lower wages. He insisted that the veteran soldier’s salary would remain the same, though they were doubtful.
If only these soldiers had some alternative that offered more money.
A massive portion of Macrinus’s army deserted and ran over to the side of Julia Maesa. Macrinus was having none of this and sent a force of soldiers to bring them back, led by the level-headed Ulpius Julianus.
The cavalry decapitated Ulpius almost immediately and sent his head back to Macrinus. Things were a little tense for Mac at this time.
Macrinus had a son who was promoted to emperor as well. So it wasn’t just Ulpius’s head that would be on a silver platter if he didn’t make something happen; it would be his and his sons, Diadumenian.
When he saw the head of Ulpius, he immediately headed south to meet the vastly growing army.
When the two armies did meet, by all accounts, it was a fairly close fight. Macrinus had the early advantage, putting a pretty big dent into the army of Elegabalus and his shrewd grandmother. In fact, Macrinus had such a commanding lead that the opposing army began to flee.
So Julia Maesa and her daughter, Julia Soaemias, decided to leap off their chariots and get into the action. I don’t know how accurate this story is, but it’s very captivating. Meanwhile, either Elegabalus or a eunuch named Gannys made a headlong charge into the enemy, causing a surge of morale.
The Syrian forces came back with that “This is what we play for” look in their eye and started getting the better of Mac’s army. Apparently, if the battle had continued, it was very likely that Macrinus may have actually won, as the forces of Elegabalus were beginning to lose strength.
Instead, Macrinus decided to flee back to Antioch. When he got there, he began telling everyone that he had won decisively, which is awesome. The problem was the victorious army was behind him, and he had to get a move on. He attempted to flee further before being caught and executed in Chalcedon (Istanbul today).
His son, Diadumenian, was sent to Parthia by Macrinus to avoid being executed, though he was unfortunately found and killed while traveling. While this may be brutal, if anyone knew the danger of letting a family member get away, it was Julia Maesa.
Julia Maesa & Elegabalus
Julia Maesa had to be fairly pleased with the outcome of the events, having now installed her own line into the height of Roman society with no clear opposition. Things were settling into a life of leisure and a dynasty that would last far past the 2nd century.
There was a problem, however, and its name was Elegabalus.
Elegabalus was always eccentric and a little unique, though this turned to eleven when he became emperor. Almost immediately, he began throwing festivals constantly, harassing senators, and allegedly prostituting himself in the palace.
He had forced his religion to be the height of the Roman pantheon; he dressed like a foreigner with extravagant, apparently feminine clothing and also decided to marry a vestal virgin twice.
Shoutout to Nero.
He had married a former slave and charioteer, Hierocles, and was declaring that he was the wife of the slave and that he was elated to be Hierocles’s queen. This marriage was an issue, as sexuality in Rome meant that the person of power should always be the male figure, which Elegabalus certainly wasn’t.
While people were initially pleased to have the new emperor and welcomed him to the Roman capital with a hero’s welcome, the honeymoon phase ended quickly. The teen emperor, no more than fourteen upon his ascension, quickly soured his reputation with repeated incidents and scandals.
Julia Maesa, ever the pragmatist, decided that she needed to call in an old backup plan. She met with Elagabalus and discussed with him the possibility of making his cousin, Alexander, a co-emperor of Rome.
Elagabalus threatened to kill her and insisted on making his husband Hierocles the emperor instead. We don’t know what was said in this interaction, but suffice it to say Elagabalus saw reason and made his cousin co-emperor shortly after.
Remember that second bastard son of Caracalla? Well, at least the one Julia said was the bastard son of Caracalla. Julia decided to cash her chips in on that last resort.
This started a rift between Julia and her grandson that became the beginning of a fight for total power. Unfortunately for Elagabalus, he simply wasn’t equipped to handle the shrewd woman at her own game.
Julia Maesa didn’t have to do much to win the feud, save for dodging several shoddy poisoning and assassination attempts. Elagabalus was coming undone, frustrated that his soldiers were showing more respect towards his younger cousin. So, in a move of unprecedented idiocy, the emperor declared that Alexander had passed away.
If anyone belongs on this website, it’s Elagabalus.
Julia either instigated the reaction of the praetorian guard or simply watched from the sidelines, though it is unlikely she believed the far-fetched claim. If anyone could spot Severan bullshit, it surely was Julia Maesa.
The soldiers around Elagabalus were enraged and demanded that Alexander’s body be presented to them. Elagabalus — in no position to argue — brought his co-emperor to their camp.
The soldiers were overjoyed to see the younger emperor and started chest-bumping and shotgunning wine. Elagabalus was furious when he noticed they were completely ignoring him, so he declared that anyone cheering must be executed.
Unfortunately, everyone present was cheering.
Elagabalus began to flee as it became clear that he and his mother, Julia Soaemias, were the only ones who would be killed. Julia Maesa either passively watched this event take place or openly encouraged it. Either way, she was indirectly responsible for the death of her grandson and her firstborn daughter.
No one is claiming that she was a tender woman.
Julia Maesa’s Last Emperor
In a small bit of irony, Alexander Severus was proclaimed at the age of fourteen, the same as his cousin Elagabalus. Julia Maesa and her daughter Julia Mamaea had their work cut out for them. The family had really taken a reputation hit with the former emperor and needed to mend their name or face a similar fate.
Julia and her daughter changed the name of the emperor to Alexander Severus to reinforce his (fictional) connection to Septimius Severus, the last good Severan emperor.
Thankfully for both of them, Alexander was an obedient kid who was happy to let them take the reigns. Julia Maesa began writing the wrongs of the previous rule, and the beginning of Alexander’s reign was widely supported. The extravagant and expensive festivities were heavily reigned in.
The people liked Alexander well enough, although he was far from the industrious Augustus or the military-minded Septimius. He was a nice enough boy with all the decency you could expect from a teenager. After Elagabalus, that was more than enough.
Unfortunately, Alexander would soon find that he was going to have to suffer rule without his wisest advisor. Julia Maesa passed away within 2–5 years of his reign, leaving his mother, Julia Mamaea, alone to rule an empire with a son who was severely unequipped.
Julia Maesa’s cause of death is unknown, though she certainly was not young and lived a very full life for the time. She was eventually deified, and while she is not well remembered today, she was well-respected long after her passing. Unfortunately, all the work she had done went into shambles upon her departure.
In a morbid tradition that had become all too common for Severan men, Alexander was eventually assassinated. To his credit, he had a much longer reign than his cousin at 13 years, which is surprisingly lengthy for the time.
The Last Word on Julia Maesa
Julia Maesa is likely my favorite historical figure from the 2nd century, though far too few know about her. She amassed an incredible fortune, continued a dynastic line through a good line of bullshit, and was always the smartest person in the room. She was also cruel, callous, and brutal.
This period of Roman history was marked by weak, ineffective, and short-lived emperors. While she couldn’t produce a Marcus Aurelius or Antoninus Pious of her own, she was able to bring a tenuous peace to an empire plagued by war. She only had to kill two family members, two emperors, and a nine-year-old to do it.
No one is claiming that she was a tender woman.
Talk soon,
Jack
