Lucullus
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Mithridates was unwilling to engage Lucullus the way he had engaged Triarius – but Dio records that another Mithridates, the son-in-law of Tigranes from Media, did attack some Roman units and win another victory over Lucullus’ force.91 There was also news that Tigranes himself was on the way, with another large force. The epitome of Livy sums up the whole affair succinctly and with understated, litotic restraint: C. Triarius legatus Luculli adversus Mithridaten parum prospere pugnavit.92 History has not been kind to Triarius, and the definitive truth about what led to the Zela disaster may be forever lost; whether Triarius was hastily seeking to forestall Lucullus’ arrival and victory or not, he had performed disastrously against an admittedly formidable opponent – and he would be remembered for his loss.
Lucullus, for his part, had moved against Nisibis – great prize as it was – and Mithridates had moved back into Pontus and inflicted appreciable defeats on Roman garrisons there. Deservedly or not, Lucullus’ reputation was at a low point. The fact that Lucullus arrived in time to prevent total destruction did not do much to restore it. But Mithridates was smart enough not to engage Lucullus directly. He knew that time was very much on his side, not his Roman adversary’s. Cities and towns that did not expect an attack, however, were a tempting target for the renewed strength of the king. A fragment of Sallust’s histories may reflect how Pontus was once again at Mithridates’ mercy: Simul inmanis hominum vis multis e locis invasere patentis tum et pacis modo effusas
The decision had been taken in Rome to relieve Lucullus, it would seem, even before the news of the Zela disaster reached Italy. Matters had already gone on for far too long in the prosecution of the war against Mithridates.95
The Character of the Commander
Plutarch gives a summation of Lucullus’ character and mindset in the aftermath of Nisibis that is revealing in part for how markedly different it seems to be from the biographer’s previous appraisals of the man.96 This is the point in time whence Plutarch records a failure in Lucullus’ ability to achieve his ambitions, and indeed the moment when the general found it increasingly difficult even to maintain what he had amassed. Plutarch is clear that Lucullus was still brave and patient – indeed patience had been one of the hallmarks of his generalship, and one of his most enduringly successful and praiseworthy qualities. But these positive notes of character no longer availed him, and in Plutarch’s estimation the responsibility was not only that of fortune or luck, but also of Lucullus himself. He was not willing to try to curry favour with the common soldier, and was equally unwilling to come to terms with his social and military equals.97 He is said to have despised his colleagues, as if he was acutely aware that he was more talented than they. The picture that emerges of Lucullus is of a man who was supremely frustrated at the abilities of those around him, a man deeply troubled and anxious because his associates in the prosecution of the war – and his colleagues at home in Rome – seemed so utterly inferior to the task. Plutarch is careful, and almost apologetic; these were the bad qualities of Lucullus, but only these. It is telling that luxury and decadence – the later watchwords for which ‘lucullan’ would enter our vocabulary – are not among the alleged vices for which the biographer is willing to indict the general. The summation concludes with a note that Lucullus was tall and of pleasing appearance, and an excellent orator – indeed, one equally suited for the Roman forum and the world of forensic oratory and for the field of battle.
Plutarch’s judgment of Lucullus is followed at once by more evidence of how both the army and the commander’s enemies at Rome were quick to condemn the man. The soldiers had the more legitimate complaint, one might argue. They had spent two winters in camp; they had not enjoyed the solace and recreational comforts of Greek cities. Lucullus was condemned at home for maintaining sole command over a vast swath of land, and for having ransacked the Armenian king’s palaces and treasure cities for what appeared to be his own enrichment. The praetor Lucius Quinctius was one of the leading voices in attack against Lucullus. The measures Quinctius was recommending included replacing Lucullus in his province, and freeing many of his soldiers from the burden and expectation of continued fighting in foreign wars. It was clear that no rhetorical ability would be able to save Lucullus for much longer from the increasingly solemn toll of the bell. He would soon be forced to make a return to Rome, fugitive kings notwithstanding. As one modern histiorian has noted, ‘People deplored the fact that poor Italian lads seemed to be condemned to wander endlessly through the wastes of Asia.’98 Quinctius, we may remember, had cause to be annoyed with Lucullus and to be in search of personal revenge; he had come up short in oratorical debate, and now, he correctly assessed, was his chance to strike back. Provinces needed to be taken away from Lucullus: first Asia, then Cilicia. Little by little, Lucullus’ power would be diminished. If Tigranocerta had been a great victory, it was not great enough to give Lucullus a free hand in the East. There were clear signs of ongoing war against both fugitive kings, and possibly the peril of involving Rome in a war with Parthia. No doubt Lucullus’ enemies found ready audiences for their complaints. We do well to remember that Lucullus was fighting two wars – one in the East and one in Rome – and he was at a distinct disadvantage in being unable to respond to the challenges of the domestic struggle, given his remote removal from the capital.
Assessment
Dio offers his own extended appraisal of Lucullus.99 He credits Lucullus with the supreme title of confidence among Roman generals. He cites him as the first Roman military commander to have crossed the Taurus with an army in time of war, and as the conqueror of two powerful and dangerous kings. He does note that Lucullus seemed in no hurry to end the war, but that his final ‘defeat’ in the manner of the revolt of his men was occasioned by how he expected so very much of his soldiery, was strict and unforgiving in his camp discipline and the imposition of punishments to maintain order, and was hardly one ready to admit common soldiers into his presence. For Dio, he was a man incapable of winning over an army by persuasion or mildness; the soldiers were thus willing to obey him when plunder and wealth were in abundance, but equally ready to abandon him at the first sign of trouble or hardship. Dio concludes that the ultimate proof of Lucullus’ problem is that the very same men who revolted against him were willing to serve Pompey – a perhaps somewhat unfair assessment, given that many of Lucullus’ men were apparently discharged at the same time as their commander, and that (as we shall see) significant changes of circumstances attended the transfer of command.100
Clodius’ Machinations
Publius Clodius Pulcher – Lucullus’ brother-in-law – was no help in the matter. It seems that he felt that in no way had he received his due of honour and benefaction for having aided Lucullus (we may recall his embassy to Tigranes). And so now he played his own role in the undermining of Lucullus, mostly by working on the frustrations and anger of the soldiers, and by noting that although they had more or less defeated two great foreign kings, they were still living abroad in relatively wretched conditions, while Pompey’s men were enjoying the comforts of family, home and hearth in Rome, merely for having fought against exiles in the Sertorian War in Spain, and the mopping up operations of the Spartacus War in Italy. To Lucullus’ men was owed far more honour than their general seemed interested in bestowing upon them; they were literally carrying the gold and treasure that w
as meant to further Lucullus’ career, while their counterparts in Pompeian service enjoyed their own treasure.
It was no doubt a powerful argument, made all the more so because it was not novel. The soldiers in Asia had been complaining for some time; indeed it could be said that Lucullus was a general in search of a better army in terms of patient acquiescence and loyal support of a commander. The Fimbrian contingent in particular had always been something of a weak link in Lucullus’ military array; Clodius knew exactly which soldiers would be most receptive to his efforts.
Dio makes clear that Clodius was a lover of revolution.101 His sister’s marriage to Lucullus was no impediment to his seeking a revolt against the optimate commander. The passage of Dio XXXVI.14.4 that speaks of Clodius’ alleged love for upheaval and turmoil is of uncertain date; scholars argue even about exactly how many mutinies there were in Lucullus’ camp. What is clear is that Lucullus’ brother-in-law was now acting against his interests, and that if there was any struggle politically between pro-Pompeian and pro-Lucullan factions in Rome, the former side was winning the day.
It is unlikely that Mithridates and Tigranes knew much about these political and personal machinations on the Roman side. And yet in an important sense, they had no need to know. All they needed – at least versus Lucullus – was to drag out the proceedings in a war of attrition.
Final Stages
It could be said that Clodius succeeded in his plans, though he was hardly working alone to his own, solitary purpose – or even to that of Pompey. Lucullus’ men were in no mood to pursue either Tigranes in Armenia or Mithridates in Pontus. In fairness to the soldiers, it may be noted that it is exceedingly easy to run, and that the kings had plenty of land and territory in which to exercise their flight. It is true that the desperate situation of Fabius and Triarius was enough to spark some light of valour against the enemies of Rome in this distant land. Mithridates might be unwilling to face the Romans in a direct engagement, but Tigranes was rumoured to be on his way, and Lucullus had hopes of engaging the Armenian monarch as he approached his Pontic ally. Such a potentially decisive engagement was simply not to be. The Fimbrians were not willing to fight, and to a man they were more than happy to inform Lucullus that by order of the senate and the people of Rome, they were discharged from further service to him. It was a rebellion, one could argue, but one that Lucullus had no effective means to suppress. Appian says that word had arrived from heralds of the proconsul of Asia that Lucullus had been accused of unnecessarily prolonging the war, and that in consequence the soldiers were disbanded, with the penalty of confiscation of property to be imposed on anyone who resisted the edict.102 Indeed, Appian notes that there were some poor individuals in the army who stayed loyal to Lucullus; they had nothing to lose, of course, and arguably a chance to gain something from continued fidelity to their wealthy commander. Appian’s narrative is less condemnatory to the Roman army; his account makes the whole matter seem like an orderly and legal proceeding, and not some mutinous revolt against Lucullus. No doubt the truth exists somewhere on the nebulous, misty border between the two.
The aftermath of the Zela disaster was clearly the last opportunity for Lucullus to win the day. It was a perhaps impossible task for any man. The fugitive kings may not have been aware of all the particulars of the Roman political situation, but Lucullus’ men were well aware that the days of their commander’s rule were in a sense already finished. Every day of paralysis on Lucullus’ side was another day the kings could work to re-establish their control over the vast territory of Cappadocia and Pontus. While 67 BC may well have been the worst year of Lucullus’ life, it was certainly the year in which he either learned or was reminded definitively of the fact that not everyone in Rome shared his sense of pietas and loyalty.
A War Ends Inconclusively
The Third Mithridatic War was thus inconclusively ended, rather in the manner of the first. Appian notes that the Romans were in no mood to prosecute the war aggressively, given the continuing peril of the pirate menace, inter alia (among other things). Mithridates was more than willing to take advantage of the Romans’ lackadaisical attitude, and soon enough, he had his sights set on invading Cappadocia and beginning to reconstitute his imperial holdings. He correctly surmised that the Romans would do nothing about it, at least for the moment. Lucullus had not even made his way from Asia before Tigranes was joining in the plundering of Cappadocia; no provocation seemed great enough to persuade the Romans to renew fighting. The territories in question were vast, and the ability of the enemy to run away from any chance of direct engagement with the main body of Lucullus’ force was practised and well honed. Lucullus could do little other than watch the virtual dismemberment of the gains he had achieved in Pontus and Lesser Armenia. Arthur Keaveney does not mince words; in his appraisal, the Third Mithridatic War ended ‘disastrously’ for Lucullus.103 Failure in the field against Mithridates and Tigranes was compounded by problems at home, where Sullan supporters would be increasingly unhappy with the constitutional reforms and initiatives that were now in play. Lucullus had needed a stopwatch in Asia; he had needed sufficient time to fulfill his military mission and to return to a Rome that was firmly ruled under the Sullan provisions. Inexorable time had been Lucullus’ undoing, at least in part. It is no surprise that he might have found hours in his libraries in the company of philosophers and men of letters to have been more appealing and engaging than hours in the senate and forum.
Cherry Trees
Pliny the Elder (Naturalis Historia XV.102) records one bit of information about Lucullus’ dealings with Mithridates that has contributed to the general’s reputation as a gastronome. Cherry trees (cerasia) were unknown in Italy, Pliny notes in his botanical writings, until Lucullus won his victory over Mithridates; that is, Pliny specifies, 74 BC. Lucullus is said to have brought them to Italy from Pontus, and a century and twenty years later they made their way even to Britain, though there was no success at cultivating them in Egypt.104
Plutarch reports an interesting and even sad detail about this period. Lucullus had written to the senate that Mithridates was all but dead, and that the prosecution of the war had gone very well. But now, visitors from Rome who had come to oversee the process of transition saw a king who was on a renewed path of destruction against Roman interests, and a Roman commander who had lost the respect of a large number of his men. Lucullus looked like a failure, and even a liar; mendacity was in fact not a charge that could fairly be imputed to him, but the timing of the arrival of the Roman overseers and commissioners could not have been worse. Mithridates was more than skilled at taking advantage of just the right moment. He had proven this talent over and over in the course of the complicated events of three separate and yet continuous wars, and he would have the chance to show once again his acumen for being a master in judging the demands of the hour.
Contempt
The arrogance of the Roman soldiers is well illustrated by the anecdote in Plutarch that, at the close of summer, the men assumed their armour, went out of camp with brandished weapons and shouted in challenge to an enemy already long departed. When no soldier of Mithridates or Tigranes replied, they solemnly announced that the time had now passed in which they were obliged to obey Lucullus – in other words, they had clearly discharged their duty to him if there were no enemies willing to respond to their call to action. The sorry, shabby treatment of Lucullus in some quarters had already begun to evoke feelings of sympathy and regret; when Pompey was eventually put in charge of finishing operations against Mithridates and Tigranes, there were those who noted that Lucullus had done all the real work, and that Pompey was merely being summoned to earn a triumph for an easy victory.105 In an important sense, the seemingly hollow gesture of the soldiers had a significant point: under the command of Lucullus, they had achieved much, indeed the bulk of the labour of the defeat of the king. What would follow could be considered a mere postscript to Lucullus’ achievements.
Quintus Marcius Rex �
� consul in 68 BC – was Lucullus’ replacement as Cilician governor. A fragment of Sallust notes that he was unwilling to come to Lucullus’ aid in Cappadocia, citing the voluntas or will of his soldiers.106 Manius Acilius Glabrio was his successor as consul in 67; like Rex, he would never make it into the field against Mithridates.107 Pompey would receive command over the Mithridatic problem in 66 BC as a result of the so-called Lex Manilia, or ‘Manilian Law’; the law would pass in large part because of Pompey’s tremendous success in ending the pirate menace in the Mediterranean. Neither Rex nor Glabrio would do anything of note in their time in command in the East; the stage was being set – and deliberately – for the advent of Pompey. Glabrio’s appointment was largely due to the political machinations of the tribune Aulus Gabinius, a devoted Pompeian who would later be known as the commanding officer of a young Mark Antony in Egypt (55 BC). Glabrio had already tangled with Lucullus in the aforementioned episode of the breaking of the chair when Lucullus allegedly slighted Glabrio by not standing in respect. Glabrio would now be in charge of fighting Mithridates, while Pompey would tackle the pirate problem. It is reasonable to wonder about Pompey’s attitude in this period. He likely realized that where Lucullus had failed, Glabrio could never hope to succeed. Glabrio could never aspire to be more successful against the king than his accomplished predecessor. Pompey may well have realized from an early date that he could handle the pirate menace and then move to solve the Mithridates problem.