Lucullus Page 11

  The other commanders of Mithridates’ naval forces were Alexander the Paphlagonian and Dionysius the Eunuch. Appian reports that the three leaders were captured in a cave on Lemnos, where Dionysius took poison, while Alexander was preserved for marching in Lucullus’ triumphal procession.29 The official reason given for the killing of Marius was that a Roman senator was better off dead on the spot than kept alive for a triumph. Letters were sent in laurel leaves to Rome to announce the victory – a sorely needed bit of good news in the capital.

  If we can believe Appian, Mithridates suffered another loss – and a stunning one – as he tried to escape to Pontus.30 Another storm hit his ships, and 10,000 men were killed with a loss of sixty vessels. Plutarch does not specify the numbers of the losses, but notes that the coast was marked by wreckage for many days from the disaster. Both Appian and Plutarch preserve the detail that the king’s own flagship was in such serious straits that the monarch was forced to surrender it for a light pirate craft. Plutarch once again notes the influence of the gods. He relates that Mithridates’ men had plundered a shrine of Artemis and desecrated her image, and so in consequence she sent the storm that wrecked the king’s fleet.31 Orosius notes (VI.2.23) that at this same time, Lucullus invaded Apamia and took the city of Prusa. Once again, it was a time of victory upon victory. The king was in full flight, and Lucullus had further proven his mettle in the face of the Pontic threat. And yet, through it all, the situation remained frustratingly unresolved.

  The Spartacus Revolt

  The Roman legions were quite preoccupied with both Spain and the Third Mithridatic War in 73 BC. The outbreak of the Spartacus slave revolt in Italy came at arguably the worst of times for the Republic; when Charles Laughton’s senatorial character in Stanley Kubrick’s 1960 Spartacus film notes that the Republic was engaged in wars in both Spain and Asia, Hollywood scriptwriting reflected an all too accurate appraisal of the historical circumstances.

  It is interesting to note that Lucullus was apparently advised at this juncture to give up the prosecution of the war – in other words, to pursue something of the same course of action that had marked the imperfect resolution of the First Mithridatic War, another version of the Peace of Dardanus. There may have been fear that it would be hazardous for the Romans to try to invade Pontus and to engage Mithridates in his kingdom proper. Some may have felt that it was as much by fortune as by good generalship that the Romans had done so well thus far, and that it would be tempting fate to continue. Then, too, there was the question of what exactly the end result of the war was supposed to be. Was the king to be dethroned and his kingdom in some way added to the increasingly rich Roman inheritance in the East? Was he to be reduced to the status of a client king who would pay a heavy indemnity for the war? Did political considerations in the capital warrant Lucullus’ more or less swift return from Asia? If so, the pupil certainly experienced the same difficulty as the master; Sulla had a similar problem during the First Mithridatic War.

  For the moment, Lucullus faced no opposition in Bithynia and Galatia. These were rich districts, and soon enough the Romans had so much plunder and abundance of supplies that there was no serious concern about provisioning the expeditionary legionary force. So bloodless, in fact, were the victories that Lucullus’ soldiers began to complain that they had no chance to exercise their occupational talents as soldiers, let alone to enrich themselves on the wealth of captured cities – they had more than enough to be comfortably supplied, but none of the usual trappings of luxury that came as the reward for successfully taking towns and cities. Some were afraid that Lucullus was leading his army away from the wealthiest districts of the region, and into the arid wastelands where there would be both a lack of luxury and the army of Mithridates to face in a decisive showdown.

  At the same time, Lucullus faced questioning over why exactly he was bothering to engage with every small unit of the king’s forces, every nook and cranny of the region that he could scout out and occupy. Why was he allowing Mithridates to rebuild his force? Plutarch preserves a lengthy address of Lucullus to his men, in which he noted that if he allowed the king to recoup his losses and to gather together a credible fighting force, then it would be possible to face Mithridates once and for all, rather than chasing the king into remote regions where he would be assisted by new allies from the far-flung regions of his sphere of influence. Lucullus was correct in this assessment; it eerily presaged exactly what would happen in future stages of the war. Plutarch’s Lucullus provides his men with an apt lesson in geography: Mithridates still had many advantages of which he could avail himself, and the Romans could still, Lucullus realized, lose the war despite their appreciable, indeed impressive victories. The territory in question was incredibly vast. Even in defeat, an enemy king could hope to recapture lost land and lead the Romans on an endless hunt. And this is exactly what would happen. Of course such a strategy could not be practised indefinitely – but it would be Pompey and not Lucullus who would benefit in the end.

  Mithridates immediately sought allies in his war with Rome. He now had no hope of a quick victory, and an increased roster of friends in the neighbourhood would be ideal for prosecuting a long war of attrition. But no one of substantial resources rushed to Mithridates’ aid. No doubt the feeling throughout the region was that the king had sought this fight, and it was the king’s to resolve – waiting to see what would happen seemed the more cautious and prudent course of action for Scythians, Parthians and Armenians alike.

  Amazons and Bees

  Appian preserves a fantastic account of one of Lucullus’ operations in this period.

  He was laying siege to Themiscyra on the River Thermodon, the legendary home of the Amazons. Lucullus’ forces erected towers and dug great tunnel passageways; the tunnels were so large that significant battles were fought underground. The Themiscyrans are said to have introduced bears, other large animals and swarms of bees into the subterranean passages to assail Lucullus’ men.32 Amisus was also under siege, and the defenders charged forth and engaged the Romans in single combat. Mithridates was able to keep this locale supplied to hold out for as long as possible. There is uncertainty as to what exactly happened at Amisus. Plutarch cites Lucullus’ apparently lacklustre performance as one of the indictments brought against him by his men. In his account, the soldiers noted that it would have been easy to take the city and to enjoy its riches, had Lucullus been willing to press the matter.

  There was certainly discontent – more or less significant – in Lucullus’ camp during the winter of 73–72 BC. It is not clear whether or not the commander received any news from Rome in this period of the increasingly problematic situation in Italy in the wake of the Spartacus rebellion. In the early spring of 72, Lucullus was ready to move against the king. He left his subordinate, Lucius Licinius Murena, in charge of minding Amisus, and proceeded with the main body of his force deeper into Pontus. According to Plutarch, Mithridates now commanded some 40,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry – he was consistently able to muster an impressive number of men, though not always of the highest quality or most robust and effective training.33 The cavalry force was where Mithridates placed his courage and hope. Appian records that the Mithridatic commander Phoenix – a member of the royal family – duly warned of the approach of Lucullus by fire signal, only at once then to desert to the Roman side (an example of a sort of Eastern pietas, we might think). A subsequent cavalry engagement with some detachment of the king’s forces did not go as well, and Lucullus’ men were obliged to with-draw. Plutarch says that the skirmish occurred after Lucullus’ force had crossed the River Lycus, while Appian locates it more precisely, at Cabeira. Plutarch and Appian both relate that the Roman commander Pomponius was brought to the king, in great suffering from his wounds. His life was promised him if he would be a friend of the king. Pomponius responded that he would indeed befriend the monarch – if Mithridates would come over to the Roman side. Impressed by the bravery and loyalty of the commander, Mithridates spar
ed his life. In the display of pietas, we may imagine that Lucullus would have found a source of just pride in his subordinate.

  Meanwhile, in terms of the larger military picture, Lucullus was cautious about becoming entangled with Mithridates on an open plain. He knew that the king was strong in cavalry units, and that he had sought out the ideal terrain for taking full advantage of his horsemen.

  A Man of Chalk

  Elsewhere in the Mediterranean world, not only the slave war, but the pirate war was also engrossing the attention of the Roman military machine. Marcus Antonius – the father of the more famous Roman of the same name – had been given the command against the pirate menace in 74 BC. By 73, he had moved against the marauders in Crete, an expedition that would prove disastrous. Antonius was an incompetent commander; he was forced to make a treaty with the Cretans and died on the island in 72 or 71 BC, his military commission quite unfulfilled. He was given the name Creticus in mockery; it could mean ‘Cretan’, but it also meant ‘man of chalk’.

  The Republic was now engaged in struggles in Spain, Asia, Italy and with the ongoing piratical menace that afflicted the life blood of the empire – the Mediterranean Sea. Lucullus was in a somewhat precarious position himself. He had achieved appreciable victories over Mithridates, but he was now facing the king in his own homeland and was increasingly distant from any reliable and safe source of provisions. There was a very real danger of Lucullus’ now taking the place once held by Mithridates: besieger of cities, forever operating under the fear of starvation and lack of supplies.

  Cave Dwellings

  Plutarch says that Lucullus received help from some Greeks who were living in a sort of cave (no doubt in hiding from Mithridates). Artemidorus, their leader, assisted the Romans in finding their way through difficult terrain and to safer ground near Cabeira.34 Appian has a similar account of a hunter in a cave who provided assistance to Lucullus’ forces in finding their way.35 In Cappadocia, we might note, people still live in ecologically friendly cave dwellings that remain cool in summer and warm in winter; tourists to the modern Urgup in Turkey (a reasonable drive from the city of Kayseri, an important site in ancient times for the trade between Sinope on the Black Sea and the Euphrates) are able to see examples of such dwellings, the exploration of which provides a major impetus for the local tourist industry.

  A revealing story is preserved that while both Mithridates and Lucullus were avoiding a direct engagement, some Romans came upon a group of the king’s men who were hunting stag. Conflict ensued, and the Romans were in full flight from the scene. When they approached the Roman camp, the men in the base urged Lucullus to let them go out and meet the enemy in full battle array. But Lucullus urged them to remain silent, even as he proceeded himself to the battlefield, there to confront the fugitive Romans. He shamed them for their cowardice in running away, and urged them to turn and face Mithridates’ men in combat. The cowards-turned-soldiers were successful, but when they returned home Lucullus disgraced them by having them dig a 12ft ditch in the sight of their fellows – a reminder of how they had shamed the arms of Rome. Resolute discipline was the order of the day. Lucullus would continue to bide his time as best he could in the face of the enemy.

  Assassination Plots

  Both Plutarch and Appian agree that around this same time, there may have been a plot afoot to assassinate Lucullus. Our sources do not concur on the details. Plutarch records that there was a Dandarian prince named Olthacus who was exceedingly zealous for glory and honour. He conceived the idea that he might kill Lucullus after having employed the ruse of being admitted into his presence as a would-be defector from the king’s cause. Olthacus would appear in the Roman camp as someone who had been disgraced by Mithridates; before long, he would aspire to be a companion of Lucullus’ meals. Olthacus achieved his purpose with appreciable success, and was ready one day around noon to carry out the assassination. He had his servants prepare a horse with which he might escape – he had no intention of sacrificing his life in the pursuit of his daring quest. But Lucullus’ attendant Menedemus would not admit him to the commander’s tent; he noted that the commander was asleep and in dire need of rest. Olthacus became irritated at the rebuff, and noted that he had exceptionally important news for Lucullus. Nothing, Menedemus replied, could be as important as the commander’s safety. And so Olthacus escaped, fearful that he had been exposed as untrustworthy.

  Appian tells much the same story of the Scythian Olcaba. Once again the enemy is denied entry into the Roman’s tent. Appian leaves open the possibility that Olcaba was no assassin, but merely an incensed, offended defector who fled the Roman camp in anger at having been refused admittance to Lucullus’ presence, let alone having been branded a would-be assassin.36 It is likely significant that Appian is not sure the Scythian prince was intent on murder. Something no doubt happened that involved a minor foreign potentate and the refusal of entry into Lucullus’ presence, but it is not altogether certain that there was an active conspiracy.

  It is not difficult to believe that Mithridates would have been interested in orchestrating or at least supporting a plot to kill Lucullus. The commander had been his most formidable Roman adversary, having eclipsed by now the work of Sulla in confronting the Pontic threat. Lucullus had also proven himself to be a dogged pursuer of the king, and was in no hurry to leave Asia. The situation with Sulla had been very different, as he had serious domestic affairs in Rome that demanded his attention sooner rather than later. The demands on Lucullus from the home front were also serious, but in a more subtle way; for now, the general had his sight focussed squarely on Mithridates.

  Frontinus also mentions Mithridatic assassination plots against Lucullus, specifically the familiar story of Adathus and the attempt to gain admittance to Lucullus’ presence, and then the would-be assassin’s speedy escape from the Roman camp.37

  Was Mithridates feeling desperate? Did he truly believe that he would win a victory over the Romans, were only Lucullus to be assassinated? Did he assume that with Lucullus dead, he would be able to win victories over the Romans such that he could recoup territorial losses, expand and fortify his holdings and then wait for any Roman reinforcements from a position of invincible strength? We can only speculate.

  The Other Lucullus and the Resolution of the Spartacus War

  Lucullus’ brother Marcus, meanwhile, was enjoying his own career advancement at Rome. He was consul in 73 BC together with Gaius Cassius Longinus. He was then sent as proconsul to Macedonia, in the course of which appointment he did his part in reducing the possessions and influence of Mithridates near the Danube and the west coast of the Black Sea. In 71, Lucullus would be recalled from Macedonia prematurely to assist in the final suppression of the Spartacus slave uprising. He landed with his forces at Brundisium and was a factor in Spartacus’ decision to turn and face the legions of Marcus Licinius Crassus. There was a small part, then, for the Lucullus family in the final stages of one of the most enduringly famous struggles of the period, a war that has achieved greater popular fame down through the ages than the far more significant military activities of Lucius Lucullus in Asia. The Spartacus War had gone on for embarrassingly long, and across vast tracts of Italy. In some ways it was fitting that three famous Romans – Crassus, Pompey and the ‘other’ Lucullus – were involved in finally suppressing it.38 Lucius Lucullus had been worried about the return of Pompey in the days of his consulship. It would be Crassus who now had his day to rue his arrival – the glory of the Spartacus War, insofar as war against mere slaves could be counted glory, would now be somewhat stolen (or at least shared). The Spartacus War ended gruesomely for the rebellious slaves, with the mass killing of some 6,000 captured fugitives.

  Pompey was now finished in Spain – in something of a twist on the Lucullan experience in Asia, he had never defeated Sertorius in open battle – but he had been able to see the day when his antagonist was dead, the victim of an assassination. Marcus Lucullus’ involvement in the final stages of the Spa
rtacus War shamed both Crassus and Pompey, as he was clearly the junior partner in the miniature slave war triumvirate.39 One could note with something approaching irony that Marcus Lucullus helped to resolve a domestic upheaval that arguably helped his brother Lucius – the longer the Spartacus conflict dragged on, the less likely any powerful rival would be sent to Asia to replace Lucullus. Inexorably, from west to east, the problems of the Republic were being solved; Mithridates meanwhile remained at large.

  We are not sure of the exact chronology of events in Asia in 72–71 BC. A significant part of our problem is the lack of exact correspondence between Plutarch and Appian. It appears clear enough that there were two Lucullan expeditions in search of provisions. Some would say that it is logical to assign the first to 72 BC and the second to 71, though certainty is impossible in the face of relatively scanty evidence – Lucullus’ army had a serious need of provisions, and two expeditions in one year would not be outside the realm of possibility. What our main sources agree on here is that both expeditions ran into trouble from Mithridatic forces, and both acquitted themselves manfully. First the Roman commander Sornatius and then the officer Marcus Fabius Hadrianus won great victories, with Hadrianus essentially obliterating the king’s force. Only the king’s top commanders, Menemachus and Myron, were said to have survived the disaster.