The Rise of Rome (Penguin Classics)

by Plutarch

  21. The struggle was intense, however. Marcus, the son of Cato and son-in-law of Aemilius,95 who was fighting the enemy with might and main, lost his sword. Inasmuch as he was a young man who had been instructed in the noblest principles and owed his distinguished father proof of his own distinguished valour, Marcus decided that life was not worth living if he remained alive and yet abandoned his own sword to become spoil for the enemy, and so he raced through the battlefield telling every friend and companion he saw of his misfortune and begging them for help. A large number of brave men then pushed their way through the rest, put themselves under his leadership and attacked the enemy. A great struggle followed, with much slaughter and many casualties, until they drove their opponents from the field, and after they had taken possession of an uncontested space, bare of any hostile troops, they began to look for Marcus’ sword. When at last it was found, buried beneath piles of armour and corpses, they were joyous, and, crying out in triumph, they threw themselves with even stronger passion against such of the enemy as had not fled or fallen.

  In the end, the 3,000 elite Macedonian troops, who remained in formation and persevered in the fighting, were cut down to a man, and, of the rest, all of whom fled, so many were slain that the plain and the foothills were littered with dead bodies and the waters of the River Leucus were still red with blood when the Romans crossed it on the day after the battle. Indeed, it is reported that over 25,000 of the enemy perished, while the Romans lost a hundred men, according to Poseidonius, or, according to Nasica, eighty.96

  22. This greatest of all battles was decided very quickly, for the Romans began fighting at the ninth hour and were victorious before the tenth.97 The remainder of the day they spent in pursuit, which they continued for 120 stades,98 which meant that it was late in the evening when they returned. Everyone was met by slaves bearing torches and conducted amid joyful shouting to the tents, which were brightly lit and adorned with wreaths of ivy and laurel – apart from their general, Aemilius, who was consumed with sorrow. Two of his sons had joined him in this campaign, and the younger one was missing. Aemilius loved him most of all, for he recognized in him a nature more inclined to virtue than in any of his brothers. He also possessed a passionate and ambitious spirit, and he was still little more than a boy,99 which led his father to conclude that, owing to his inexperience, he must have been caught up among the enemy during the fighting and in this way perished. The whole army soon learned of their general’s anguish and despair, and so left their meals and ran about with torches, some going to Aemilius’ tent, others searching outside the fortifications among the many dead bodies there. Sorrow filled the camp, and the plain was filled with the sound of men crying out the name of Scipio. For from the beginning he was beloved by everyone, because no one else, even in his own distinguished family, possessed a character so well suited for military command and political leadership. It had grown late and he was very nearly given up for lost when he, along with two or three companions, returned from pursuing the enemy, covered in the blood and gore of the fallen, for, like a young hound of fine pedigree, he had been carried away by the sheer pleasure of victory. This is the Scipio who in later years destroyed Carthage and Numantia100 and became by far the foremost Roman of his day in virtue and in influence. And so Fortune postponed for another time101 her retribution for Aemilius’ success, restoring to him, on this occasion, the full and unsullied pleasure of victory.

  23. Perseus hastened in flight from Pydna to Pella,102 accompanied by his cavalry, almost all of whom had survived the battle. But later, when the men of the infantry103 caught up with the cavalry, they abused them for their cowardice and betrayal, pulled them off their horses and began to beat them, violence that frightened the king into turning his horse off the road, and, in order to avoid being conspicuous, removing his purple cloak, which he placed in front of him, as well as his diadem, which he carried in his hands. He also dismounted and led his horse behind him, so that he could converse with his companions as he walked. But of his companions, one pretended to fasten a shoe that become loose, another that he needed to water his horse, and still another that he wanted water for himself, until, little by little, they all fell behind him and ran away, less afraid of the enemy than of their own king’s cruelty. For he was outraged by the misfortunes he had suffered and sought to divert the responsibility for his defeat away from himself and against everyone else.

  Perseus entered Pella by night, and when he was met by Euctus and Eulaeus, his treasurers, who reproved him for what had happened and peppered him, at this inopportune moment, with tactlessly candid advice, he became enraged and killed both of them with his own sword. After this no one remained with him except Evander104 of Crete, Archedamus105 of Aetolia and Neon106 of Boeotia. And, of his soldiers, only the Cretans continued to follow him, not out of loyalty but because they were as devoted to his wealth as bees are to their honeycomb. He was in fact keeping with him a vast amount of treasure, out of which he had already distributed among the Cretans drinking cups, mixing bowls and other gold and silver implements, in all worth about 50 talents.

  He went first to Amphipolis and from there to Galepsus,107 by which time he began to grow less afraid and so relapsed into his long-standing and congenital malady, stinginess. He complained to his friends that he had thoughtlessly spread some of the gold treasure of Alexander the Great among the Cretans, and with tearful entreaties he pleaded with those who had this treasure to exchange it for money. It was obvious to those who understood him well that he was playing the part of a Cretan108 – to the Cretans themselves – whereas those who took him at his word and returned what they had were cheated, for he did not pay them their money. Instead, he managed to acquire 30 talents from his friends, funds which would very soon be seized by his enemies but which now he carried with him to Samothrace, where he took refuge as a suppliant in the sanctuary of the Cabiri.109

  24. Now the Macedonians’ devotion to their kings has always been renowned, but on this occasion, feeling as if their prop had been shattered and that everything had collapsed with it, they put themselves in Aemilius’ hands and in two days made him master of all Macedon. And this does seem to be good evidence for those who attribute his achievements to his good fortune. So, too, was what occurred when he was making a sacrifice, which was clear proof of divine favour: as Aemilius was performing a sacrifice in Amphipolis and the sacred rituals had begun, a thunderbolt struck the altar, set it on fire and thus consumed the offering. But the episode concerning the rumour of his victory was the clearest token of his divine favour and good fortune. On the fourth day after Perseus’ defeat at Pydna, at which time the people of Rome were watching horse races, a story suddenly arose, in the front seats of the Circus, that Aemilius had defeated Perseus in a great battle and had conquered all of Macedon. From there the rumour spread quickly among the multitude, and great joy erupted, expressed in cheers and clapping, which prevailed in the city for the entire day. Then, because no definite source for this story could be identified – it seemed instead to be prevalent everywhere at once – the rumour dissipated and finally vanished. But when, a few days later, they became reliably informed of the victory,110 they were astonished at the earlier report and how, in that fiction, there resided the truth.

  25. It is also said that a report of the battle fought on the River Sagra against the Italian Greeks reached the Peloponnesus on the same day as the battle was fought,111 just as the battle with the Medes at Mycale was reported on the same day to the Plataeans.112 And when the Romans defeated the Tarquins, who had marched against them joined by their Latin allies, only a little later did two tall and handsome men appear at Rome with a report from the army of what they had seen. These men, it was inferred at the time, were the Dioscuri.113 The first man who met them at the spring in the forum, where they were cooling their horses which were heavy with sweat, expressed astonishment at their news of the victory. Whereupon, so we are told, they smiled gently and touched his beard with their hands, the
instant effect of which was that the colour of his beard changed from black to red, an event that enhanced the credibility of their report and gave the man the surname Ahenobarbus,114 which means Bronze-Beard. All of this is made more plausible by an event that took place in my own lifetime. When Antonius rose in rebellion against Domitian, and a great war in Germany was feared and at Rome everything was in turmoil, suddenly and spontaneously the common people, acting independently, began to report a victory, and soon the rumour spread throughout Rome that Antonius had been killed and that no part of his army had survived its defeat.115 Everyone became so certain of this that many of the magistrates offered sacrifices to the gods. But when no one could be found who was the original author of this report, and instead its telling and retelling hearkened back until it was lost in the limitless throng of the city, as if in a vast sea, it was realized that the report had no reliable source and so the rumour quickly vanished from the city. Yet when Domitian set out with his army to fight this war, and was already on the march, he was met by messages and letters telling him about the victory. And the day of the victory was the same day on which the rumour occurred, although the distance between the two places is more than 20,000 stades.116 There is no one of my generation who is unaware of this event.

  26. Gnaeus Octavius,117 who was in command of Aemilius’ fleet, anchored off Samothrace. Owing to his reverence for the gods, he respected Perseus’ right to asylum, but he also endeavoured to prevent him from sailing off and escaping. Somehow, however, Perseus secretly persuaded a certain Cretan named Oroandes, who owned a small boat, to take him and his treasures on board. Oroandes, true to his Cretan nature, took aboard the treasure on one night and instructed Perseus to come on the next night to the harbour by the temple of Demeter, along with his children and his essential servants. As soon as it was evening, however, he sailed away. Now, Perseus had suffered pitiably when he let himself down out of a narrow window and along the city wall, joined by his children and his wife, who were unaccustomed to hardship or exile. But far more pitiable was the groan that erupted from him when he was informed, as he was wandering along the shore, that Oroandes had already been seen hurrying out to sea. It was now daybreak, and so, bereft of every hope, he fled back towards the city wall, and although the Romans saw him, he managed to get inside first, along with his wife. His children,118 however, were captured and handed over to the Romans by a man named Ion, who long ago had been Perseus’ lover but had now become his betrayer by supplying the most compelling reason for Perseus to come to the Romans and to surrender himself to those who held his children in their power, as even a wild animal will do when its young have been taken. Of all the Romans it was Nasica whom Perseus most trusted, and so he asked for him, but, being informed that he was not there, Perseus first wept at his misfortune and then reflected on the reality that he had no choice in the matter. In the end, he surrendered himself to Gnaeus.

  It was now that Perseus made it clear that avarice was not his most ignoble vice but, rather, his cowardice in the face of death, which robbed him of the only thing that misfortune cannot take away from the fallen, namely pity. For when, at his own request, he was brought before Aemilius, the Roman regarded him as a great man brought low by divine retribution and an evil fortune; he stood and came forward to meet him, attended by his friends and with tears in his eyes.119 But Perseus, in a most shameful display, threw himself to the ground before him and then, clasping his knees, burst out in disgraceful cries and entreaties, none of which Aemilius could endure or even listen to. Instead, looking at him with a pained and sorrowful expression on his face, he said, ‘Why, wretch, are you acquitting Fortune of the strongest indictment you could lodge against her, through actions that will make you appear to merit your misfortune and will make it appear that it is not your current condition but your former good fortune that was undeserved? And why are you undermining my victory and making my achievement look small by revealing yourself to be neither a noble nor a suitable antagonist for the Romans? You should be aware that courage on the part of the unfortunate earns them great respect even from their enemies, whereas, so far as Romans are concerned, cowardice is the most dishonourable thing of all, even if cowardice brings one prosperity.’

  27. Still, despite his objections to the man, he raised Perseus up, offered him his hand and entrusted him to Tubero,120 after which he drew his sons, his sons-in-law and other officers, especially the younger men, into his tent, where for a long time he sat in silent reflection, which provoked wonder in everyone. He then began to offer a disquisition on the nature of fortune and of human affairs. ‘Is it fitting’, he asked, ‘for a mortal man to become bold when he enjoys success, or proud because he has conquered a nation or a city or a kingdom? Or should he instead contemplate this reversal of fortune, which provides for any man who wages war an instructive example of our common vulnerability and teaches us that nothing is stable and secure? What sort of moment is it for mortals to be confident, when their victory over other men obliges them to be most afraid of Fortune, and when a happy man can be reduced to dejection by his knowledge that destiny follows a circular course, coming to different men at different times? The legacy of Alexander, who reached the supreme heights of power and possessed the greatest dominion, has collapsed in a single hour121 and has been crushed beneath your feet, and you behold kings who were only recently surrounded by thousands of cavalry and tens of thousands of infantry now receiving from the hands of their enemy a daily ration of food and drink. Can you then believe that our own affairs enjoy any lasting protection from the vicissitudes of fortune? Young men, will you not then abandon your hollow insolence and let go of your pride in this victory, and instead look towards the future with humility, always watchful for the moment when the divine will at last exact from each of you retribution for your present prosperity?’ They say that Aemilius discoursed at great length along these lines, and, when he dismissed the young men, their boasting and insolence had been well and truly curbed by his trenchant speech, as if by a bridle.

  28. After this, he allowed his army a rest and himself a sightseeing tour of Greece, during which he busied himself with actions that were at once distinguished and humane.122 As he travelled the country, he restored democratic governments and established their political institutions; he also handed out gifts to the cities, grain from the royal stores to some, oil to others. Indeed, it is said that such an abundance of supplies was found in the king’s stores that the number of petitioners and recipients was exhausted before the quantity of the provisions that had been discovered.

  At Delphi, when he saw a tall square pillar made out of white stone, on which a golden statue of Perseus was meant to stand, he ordered a statue of himself123 to be placed there instead, observing that it was fitting that the vanquished should give way to their conquerors. And at Olympia he is said to have uttered that oft-quoted line, that Pheidias had sculpted the Zeus of Homer.124

  When the ten commissioners arrived from Rome,125 he restored their own country to the Macedonians and he gave them free and independent cities in which to dwell; they were obliged to pay the Romans 100 talents, which was less than half of what they used to pay in tribute to their kings. He celebrated every sort of game and contest, and he offered sacrifices to the gods at which he gave feasts and banquets, for all of which he made generous payments from the royal treasury. As he was organizing and arranging these banquets, and as he greeted and seated his guests, he accorded everyone all due honour and consideration, and he did so with such thoughtfulness and correctness that the Greeks were amazed to see how a man involved in great affairs did not neglect their amusements but instead gave even trivial matters the appropriate attention. And he was delighted by the fact that, amid so many splendid entertainments, it was he that his guests most enjoyed and took the most pleasure in watching, and to those who marvelled at his attention to detail, he used to say that the same intelligence was needed in ordering a battle formation successfully as in arranging a good symposium
, though in the case of one the object was to inspire the most terror in the enemy, whereas in the other it was to stimulate the most pleasure in one’s companions.126

  Most of all, men praised his liberality and magnanimity, for he would not condescend even to look at the great quantities of silver and gold which had been collected from the royal treasuries but instead simply handed it all over to his quaestors127 for deposit in the public treasury. He allowed his sons, who were devoted to literature, to take only the king’s books for themselves. When he was awarding prizes for valour in the battle, he gave Aelius Tubero, his son-in-law, a bowl weighing 5 pounds. This is the Tubero who, as I said earlier,128 lived with sixteen relations, all of them supported by one modest farm. And they say that this is the first silver that ever entered the house of the Aelian family and it came into their house on account of valour and honour, whereas up to that time neither the men nor their wives had used either silver or gold.