Vestal Virgins: the Most Powerful Women in Ancient Rome

Suzanne Tyrpak author photoRelevant History welcomes historical suspense author Suzanne Tyrpak, who ran away from New York a long time ago to live in Colorado. Her debut novel, Vestal Virgin: Suspense in Ancient Rome, is set in Rome at the time of Nero, and Tess Gerritsen says, “Her writing is pure magic.” “Pure comedic brilliance” is how J.A. Konrath describes Suzanne’s collection of nine short stories, Dating My Vibrator. And Scott Nicholson says, “Enter this circus and let Suzanne show you why horror is the greatest show on earth” of Ghost Plane and Other Disturbing Tales. For more information, check her blog, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

*****

Vestal Virgins have always been surrounded by mystery. We’ve heard the term “Vestal Virgin”—Procol Harum sings about them—but who were they? Priestesses of old who protected the sacred flame of the Roman goddess of the hearth, Vesta—in many ways this celibate sisterhood might be considered forerunners to the nuns of the Catholic Church.

RomeVestal Virgins were the most powerful women in the Roman Empire. At a time when women had few rights and were treated like property, Vestal Virgins were revered. Unlike other Roman women, vestals were highly educated. And, although they lived a cloistered life, they had considerable freedom and participated in the world in ways denied to other women.

To be chosen a Vestal Virgin was a great honor, and candidates were usually daughters of leading Roman families. Only six women were designated as priestesses of Vesta, including the Vestal Maxima, who served as the head priestess, similar to a Mother Superior. When a position became available, a number of girls were nominated, but only one candidate was chosen by lottery. Vestals had to be free of physical imperfections, both parents had to be alive, and the girls (usually age six through ten) had to be virgins.

Though most women were completely dependent on men and could own no property, Vestal Virgins had financial independence. They could own property, and the state paid them substantial salaries. Though most Roman women weren’t taught to read or write, Vestal Virgins were highly literate. They scribed many legal documents, and important texts from throughout the empire were kept within the House of the Vestals.

The vestals wielded political and religious influence. They served as members of the Collegiate of Pontiffs, religious advisors to the Roman Senate. After the time of Julius Caesar, the head of the Collegiate of Pontiffs, the Roman Emperor was also appointed Pontifex Maximus. Consequently, the Vestal Virgins were in close contact with the emperor.

The vestals performed many public rituals and sacrifices throughout the year. For example: the harvest festival of Meditrinalia included a chariot race that began at dawn. The victor’s horse was sacrificed, its entrails smeared upon the altar of the Regia, where the Collegiate of Pontiffs resided. It was the job of the vestals to collect blood from the severed genitals to be used the following spring in order to ensure protection of flocks of sheep.

The priestesses of Vesta were believed to hold great power, therefore their blessings were solicited. People gave offerings to the priestesses to ensure that their loved ones would be included in the vestals’ prayers.

A privilege denied to most women was the popular entertainment of gladiator games. Chariot races took place in the morning, and women were welcome to attend, but afternoon brought games that ended in brutal death. The arena was cleared of women—except for the Vestal Virgins. In fact, the priestesses were designated their own box at the Circus Maximus, and the Coliseum, just below the emperor’s box.

Vestals were considered sacrosanct, and a vestal’s word was considered sacred. At times, her word could override an emperor’s. For example: a prisoner, sentenced to death, might escape his fate if pardoned by a Vestal Virgin.

RomeThe six Vestal Virgins are, perhaps, best known for tending the sacred fire which represented the heart of Rome. Once a year, the fire was allowed to burn out. It would then be rekindled in a ritual, using a clear crystal and the rays of the sun.

Because they tended the fire sacred to Vesta, virgin goddess of the hearth, the priestesses had to remain pure, and consequently vestals were pledged to thirty years of chastity on penalty of death. If suspected of breaking her vow, a vestal would face a trial with the Collegiate of Pontiffs and punishment to be doled out by the Pontifex Maximus. She might be tested in a variety of ways. For example: a vestal might be given a sieve in which she had to carry water from the Tiber river. No doubt, cheating did take place—smearing the sieve with grease might provide a way around the test. Or a vestal might be thrown into the river: if she sank, she would be considered pure, and, if she swam, she would be proved tainted—a test reminiscent of the much-later Salem witch trials. Once found guilty, a vestal would usually be sentenced to death. First, hair shorn and dressed in a drab robe instead of finery, she would be paraded through the streets, as if she were already dead. She would then be entombed alive with scant provisions and left to asphyxiate.

Of course, there were exceptions—not necessarily for the better. The emperor, Nero, for example, held himself above the law and is known to have raped at least one Vestal Virgin. The family name she bore was Rubria, but that is all we know of her. This gave me ample leeway, as a writer of fiction, to write my novel, Vestal Virgin: Suspense in Ancient Rome.

After serving for thirty years, Vestal Virgins were free to leave the order, but at a time in history when women were valued mostly for childbearing and life expectancy was short, what fate could a woman hope for in her late thirties? A vow of chastity might be a demanding price, but the rewards were great. Because of the power and freedom granted Vestal Virgins, rather than go to live with a male relative, many priestesses chose to remain in service.

*****

Vestal Virgin book coverA big thanks to Suzanne Tyrpak. She’ll give away one electronic copy of Vestal Virgin to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Saturday at 6 p.m. ET.

**********

Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Subscribe to Suzanne’s free newsletter.

Enter your email address:

Six Weeks Until the Release of Regulated for Murder

My next book, Regulated for Murder, will be released in six weeks, on 14 October 2011. For ten years, an execution hid murder. Then Michael Stoddard came to town. Bearing a dispatch from his commander in coastal Wilmington, North Carolina, … Continue reading

The Countdown Begins for Regulated for Murder

Two months until the release of my next book, Regulated for Murder. 14 October 2011. For ten years, an execution hid murder. Then Michael Stoddard came to town. Bearing a dispatch from his commander in coastal Wilmington, North Carolina, redcoat … Continue reading

The New Cover for The Blacksmith’s Daughter

Here’s the new cover for the electronic version of The Blacksmith’s Daughter. What do you think of it? I recently posted the new covers for Paper Woman and Camp Follower. The theme for this trilogy as depicted through the cover … Continue reading

Misconceptions, Scandal, and a Quest for Truth

Nancy Means Wright author photoRelevant History welcomes Nancy Means Wright, who has published sixteen books, including five contemporary mystery novels from St Martin’s Press, and most recently two historicals: The Nightmare: A Mystery with Mary Wollstonecraft (2011) and its prequel, Midnight Fires (Perseverance Press, 2010). Her children’s mysteries received both an Agatha Award and Agatha nomination. Poems and short stories have appeared in American Literary Review, Green Mountains Review, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Level Best Books, and elsewhere. Longtime teacher and Bread Loaf Scholar for a first novel, Nancy lives with her spouse and two Maine Coon cats in Middlebury, Vermont. For more information, check her web site.

*****

How many poets, writers, and artists were undervalued during their lives, even scorned, and only posthumously called genius, classic, great? I think, among others, of the reclusive Emily Dickinson who published a mere handful of poems in her lifetime, or eccentric Vincent Van Gogh who sold only a single painting, cut off his ear, and was considered mad.

Few, it seems, were as misunderstood and maligned as 18th-century Mary Wollstonecraft. Her groundbreaking Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792) was greeted with cries of outrage when she called for co-education for girls with boys, and for female political, economic, and legal equality. Marriage she declared, was “a slavery; arranged marriages a legal prostitution.” For that, they called her a “hyena in petticoats,” a “philosophical wanton.” Even her own sex belittled her: “There is something absurd in the very title,” the conservative writer Hannah More said of Vindication; “I am resolved not to read it!”

Some of her disrepute came about through her own conflicted character. Her open-mindedness and impetuosity, along with her intolerance of sham and injustice, made her an easy target. She rescued her younger sister from an abusive marriage—and society called it “kidnapping.” She compelled a biased English captain to rescue a sinking boatload of French sailors, and was labelled “presumptuous.” As governess, she taught her pupils to love Shakespeare and to think for themselves, but was dismissed when her aristocratic employers claimed she’d neglected to teach their daughters to embroider—and worse, had stolen their affections from the neurotic mother.

“I want to live independent or not at all!” Mary cried as she fled to London with the manuscript of her first (autobiographical) novel.

Her life was a struggle between her principles of independence and her passions. In London, she horrified society when she sought a platonic ménage à trois with artist Henry Fuseli and his pampered wife. In revolutionary Paris, with heads rolling from the guillotine, she lost her own head to the dashing American captain, Gilbert Imlay. To Mary, still a virgin at 34 when he bowled her over, the act of love was “wholly sacred.” When she got pregnant, Imlay abandoned mother and illegitimate child to the taunts of society. Her attempts at suicide after the betrayal caused yet more scandal. Back in London, doors slammed in her face.

Finally, honest William Godwin came along, to offer genuine love and commitment. Their short happy marriage ended in the birth of daughter Mary (who later wrote Frankenstein)—and with the young mother’s death. Yet writer Godwin naively added shovelfuls of coal to the public fire with a posthumous memoir in which he gave full, unverified details about his late wife’s relationships with Fuseli, and then with Imlay and their illegitimate child, Fanny. Godwin praised her rejection of organized religion but neglected to mention her belief in God and her deep spiritual nature. Mary’s letters show her as loyal, loving, and monogamous, but horrified Londoners saw only an atheist and a wanton, an unwed mother involved with three men—even simultaneously, according to salacious rumor.

The slander persisted throughout the 19th century and into the 20th. Although a few carefully researched biographies came out in the late 19th century, it has only been since the mid-to-late 20th century that a flurry of biographies have shown Mary to be the highly original, intelligent, compassionate woman that she truly was. She made some crazy mistakes in her life as we all do, but always owned up to them, and came through her trials with remarkable resilience.

Feeling her to be an admirable sleuth through her intolerance of sham and injustice; and determined to clear up falsehoods and to bring her to full life, I began a series of mystery novels with Mary Wollstonecraft as protagonist. One might call it a Vindication of Mary! In Midnight Fires she is a beleaguered young governess to the notorious Kingsborough family. In The Nightmare, just out from Perseverance Press, her quest for truth leads to a madhouse chase to free a man accused of stealing Fuseli’s famous painting, “The Nightmare,” and to discover the rogue who strangled a woman to resemble that painting. Book 3 will take her to revolutionary Paris, “neck or nothing!” as she famously declared—and to meet the rogue Imlay.

Mary once wrote her sister that she was going to be “the first of a new genus of woman,” and so, despite the misconceptions and overwhelming odds, she was.

*****

The Nightmare book coverA big thanks to Nancy Means Wright. She’ll give away one paperback copy of The Nightmare and two paperback copies of Midnight Fires to people who contribute comments on my blog this week. I’ll choose three winners from among those who comment by Saturday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available within Canada and the U.S.

**********

Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Subscribe to Suzanne’s free newsletter.

Enter your email address:

The New Cover for Camp Follower

Here’s the new cover for the electronic version of Camp Follower. If you’ve read the book, you’ll recall the scene that inspired this image. I had the cover image for Paper Woman redesigned a few months ago. Next up is … Continue reading