Lucullus

  Cataphracts were present, and scythe-bearing chariots, along with an appreciable enough assembly of some sixty of the king’s generals and friends.14 Perhaps most remarkably, we are told that Lucullus brought back 110 bronze-beaked ships and a 6ft tall golden statue of Mithridates – an incredibly valuable substitute for the living monarch, though again a perhaps all too painful reminder that the king himself was still at large, indeed running amok. Interestingly from a political point of view, there were tablets that had the figures and sums that Lucullus had paid to Pompey for the prosecution of the pirate war – a perhaps overly subtle reminder that Lucullus had financed the spectacular achievements of Pompey at sea, and a class-laden rebuke of the charge that Lucullus had profited personally from his conquests in Asia.15 Each of Lucullus’ men had received 950 drachmas – a possible reminder that complaints were inappropriate from his soldiery – and in a detail that is of some special interest given Lucullus’ culinary connections, we are told that the general provided a magnificent feast for the Romans, a true celebration to mark his special day.16

  Memmius had failed in his efforts to deny Lucullus a triumph, but he had managed to sour the day of glory by his political machinations. It was one thing to celebrate a triumph – another thing entirely to have to wait to observe the day of honour. No one may have been much convinced that Lucullus’ war against Tigranes was unjust, but there was ample room for manoeuvring in the matter of delaying the commander’s rewards.

  Divorce

  At this juncture of his biographical treatment, Plutarch notes the divorce of Clodia. Lucullus was no doubt more than exhausted from his dealings with her family, and the dissolution of their union could not have been unexpected.17 Lucullus promptly married Servilia, a niece of Marcus Porcius Cato, but unfortunately for Lucullus, Plutarch notes that the marriage was just as bad, with the sole redeeming feature that there was no incest with the wife’s brothers! Servilia is condemned as being just as wicked and vile as Clodia in all other regards. Lucullus is said to have tolerated her for a while for the sake of Cato, only to divorce her, too, in the end. The divorce of Clodia is attributed to the incest of the wife with her brother. We have no idea when Clodia began to be unfaithful to Lucullus; her indiscretions may well have started quite early in the marriage. Any involvement with her brother may have had a quite long duration, one that preceded her nuptial union with Lucullus.18 We may be certain that no one in Rome was particularly critical of Lucullus’ decision to sever ties with his spouse.19

  There was another facet to the relationship between Memmius and the Luculli. Memmius was married to Fausta Sulla, the daughter of Sulla and Caecilia Metella. She was divorced in 54 BC, and would eventually marry Titus Annius Milo, the rival of Publius Clodius Pulcher for the consulship of 52 BC. Milo’s men would be responsible for Clodius’ death in the infamous encounter between the rival political gangs at Bovillae in January of that year.20 We have no record of what Lucullus’ thoughts were on the marriage of his ward to Memmius. All we can be certain of is that the nuptials were a casualty of the deteriorating relationship between the two men.

  Memmius and Lucretius

  We may say a word here about the Gaius Memmius who is cited as having been an opponent and prosecutor of both the Lucullus brothers. Memmius is perhaps best known to history as the patron of the poet Titus Lucretius Carus, the author of that Epicurean verse evangel, the epic De Rerum Natura, or ‘On the Nature of Things’. Memmius makes appearances, too, in the surviving poetry of Gaius Valerius Catullus; he was originally a supporter of Pompey, but later defected to the cause of Julius Caesar. His antagonism toward the Luculli no doubt stemmed simply from his partisanship for Pompey. Memmius’ own reputation was checkered. He was hardly a paragon of moral virtue and upright behaviour. His attack on Lucullus (not to mention the younger brother) was a chance to ingratiate himself in certain circles, perhaps even to have some of the worst of his sins overlooked. Memmius was certainly more than engaged in exactly the sort of activities that Lucretius warned against and condemned in his philosophical, didactic epic.

  Famously, we know very little about the life of the poet Lucretius. A passage at the end of a letter of Cicero to his brother Quintus from February of 54 BC is often cited among the testimonia of the poet’s work.21 The detail there about Cicero’s appraisal of Lucretius’ work has been taken by many to imply that the poet was dead by the spring of 54, but in fact we cannot be certain of this or much else in Lucretius’ biography. What we do know is that his epic is infused with anxiety about the state of political life in Rome. Would a literary man like Lucullus have been ignorant of Lucretius and his work? While there is no definitive evidence to support the conclusion that Lucullus was an Epicurean, there is good reason to think that he knew of Lucretius’ work – indeed, one may well wonder if Lucretius was a visitor to his gardens and libraries. We cannot be certain of the chronology of composition of the books of the De Rerum Natura, though scholars have long observed that Memmius is a more prominent figure early in the poem. Is it fanciful to think that something of the poet’s admonition to Memmius is rooted in the circumstances of the patron’s treatment of the Lucullus brothers? Ultimately, are the warnings of the poet’s epic aimed both at Memmius and Lucullus (and Pompey after him), who went to the East presumably at least in part in search of riches, financial boon and military glory? Whether card-carrying Epicurean or not, did the Lucullus who returned to Rome in the wake of his replacement by Pompey find that he sympathized with the message of the Roman epic poet?22 And if Lucullus knew Lucretius, to what extent did the poet’s relationship with Memmius make for awkward tension? On these and similar issues we can only muse.

  Lucullus’ Children

  We know that Lucullus and Clodia had one child, a daughter Licinia.23 From Servilia, a son would be born – another Lucius Lucullus. We are not sure of his birth year, but we do know that he never achieved anything of note in the worlds of politics and the military – an obscurity that may of course have saved his life in the waning years of the Republic.24 We can be reasonably certain that the period from 64-c. 60 BC was not a particularly happy time for Lucullus in terms of family life. Servilia may well have been having an affair with Memmius, and Lucullus would in no way be blessed with domestic harmony and tranquil peace.25 Again, we may think of Lucretius, in particular the fourth book of his epic and its condemnation of passion and discourse on the dangers of love. Given his experience of both Clodia and Servilia, one might well conclude that Lucullus would have appreciated Lucretius’ sentiments. Again, we can only speculate – but so much of Lucullus’ life allows for a reading of Lucretius as a virtual commentary on his career, both domestic and foreign. This may be thought to be true of any number of eminent Romans of the Republic, but Lucullus holds a special place in this regard, given his literary tendencies and emphasis on pietas, a theme that takes on special prominence in the closing movements of Lucretius’ epic,26 and most of all given the fact that after so much in the way of accomplishment, Lucullus was ultimately cheated of his prize.

  The consulship of Marcus Tullius Cicero, the novus homo or ‘new man’ who had risen to the highest office in Rome, and who would soon enough distinguish himself in the matter of the famous ‘conspiracy’ of Lucius Sergius Catilina (the notorious Catiline), was in 63 BC. Cicero’s major dealing with Lucullus up to the time of his consular service had been as the author of the speech in defence of the Lex Manilia; if anything, one might have thought that Lucullus had just cause to view Cicero as an enemy. There is no evidence that such animosity existed on either side. As we have seen, Cicero’s speech did speak in eminently respectful terms of Lucullus, and we have no reason to think that the two men were ever hostile to each other. Indeed, Plutarch reports that they were on friendly terms even after the controversy over Pompey’s appointment and Cicero’s role in securing the command for Lucullus’ rival. They were frequently in touch and in friendly conversation and interaction.27

  Cicero had done a number
of services for the Lucullan cause. He was one of the defenders of Lucullus’ quondam subordinate, Lucius Licinius Murena, for whom he wrote the celebrated oration, the Pro Murena.28 In the autumn of 63, Murena faced a charge of electoral corruption that would have prevented him from taking office as consul in 62. Murena was in the end acquitted, and entered into his consulship; we can be certain that Cicero’s speech was the key factor in Murena’s salvation – although scholars generally conclude that he was guilty. Cicero was probably interested at this political juncture in balancing the power of the rival factions in Rome, and it is possible that he was trying to engage in a particularly favourable deed for the ‘Lucullan’ side. It was increasingly unclear, however, what exactly that ‘side’ constituted in terms of leadership and direction.

  For Lucullus was to be no hero of his optimate cause in these latter years of his life. If anyone in Rome wanted Lucullus to be a counterweight to Pompey, they would soon be sorely disappointed. It seems that Lucullus showed no interest whatsoever in re-entering the maelstrom of republican political life. This is the point in Lucullus’ life at which Plutarch notes the entry of the former commander into a life of luxury. The biographer is quite specific in his analysis of the man and his decisions. Plutarch offers a weighted alternative of sorts, we might think: either Lucullus thought that the political situation in Rome was too far gone – and thus beyond his abilities or perhaps anyone’s to resolve – or he thought that he had had enough of glory and honour, and that now he more than deserved to retreat into enjoyment and luxury. Plutarch notes that many praised Lucullus for his decision – whatever the rationale behind it – noting that men like Marius and Cicero would have done better if they had known the proper time to retire from public life. Crassus and Pompey were not among Lucullus’ admirers in this regard; they observed that hedonism and luxurious, decadent behaviour was even more questionable in an older man than participation in public and military affairs. More of the same, then, from the usual suspects. Lucullus needed to be removed as an effective force in political life, and it appears that for whatever reason, he was quite unwilling to do very much to fight against his opposition.

  There was also the suicide of Mithridates in 63 BC. Pompey had done what Lucullus had failed to achieve – he had put an end to the war against the Pontic king. Mithridates would emulate Hannibal by committing suicide; there was a certain defiance in the deed, as if Rome was being deprived of the chance either to exact punishment or offer clemency. Pompey would return to Rome in 62, ready to see to senatorial approbation of all his dispositions for the East in the wake of his victory – all along he had political as well as military goals to pursue. Lucullus would be ready to repay something of the favour for the treatment he had received in Galatia.

  The Archias Affair

  In 62 BC there was the celebrated court case that considered the question of whether the poet Archias was a Roman citizen.29 We do not know the exact disposition of the case, and we can only speculate as to whether or not Cicero’s famous defence of Archias was successful. We can be sure, however, that the Archias affair was really nothing less than a political attack on Archias’ patron, Lucullus, the man whose deeds the poet was said to have celebrated in epic verse (a Luculliad, one might say).30 Almost all we know of Archias is derived from Cicero’s speech; there are thirty-seven epigrams in the so-called Greek Anthology that have been transmitted under the name ‘Archias’, though there is scholarly question as to how much of this corpus can be safely attributed to the ‘Ciceronian’ Archias.31 Cicero gives some insight into the details of Archias’ epic work on the war with Mithridates. He refers to the glory not only of Lucullus, but also of the Roman people (who were made famous by the deeds of the outstanding general). Pontus was opened up for Rome with Lucullus as imperator; with not so very many men, Lucullus subdued the nations of Armenia. Lucullus is credited with responsibility for the salvation of Cyzicus in its hour of crisis. Under Lucullus’ charge, an enemy fleet was destroyed off Tenedos, and the king’s naval threats quelled. Again, all that we know of the epic is due to Cicero. We know that it was written in Greek (Cicero proceeds, in fact, to a spirited defence of Greek literature just after his reference to Archias’ epic), but have no idea how long the poem was, if it was ever finished, and indeed how familiar Cicero himself was with its contents. We certainly have no sense of when it was lost to the mists of time.

  Cicero notes in his speech that the house of the Luculli sheltered not only the early youth of the poet, but also his declining years.32 Cicero notes in his defence of Archias’ Roman citizenship that his client’s absence from census rolls was due in large part to his tenure with Lucullus in Asia.33 While Cicero’s brief speech in defence of Archias does not add any information to our knowledge of Lucullus’ campaigns in Asia and Armenia, it does make clear that the commander was accompanied abroad by his own Homer, as it were – his own epic poet who could record the history of the campaign for poetic posterity. It is one of the tragedies of Lucullus’ life that such verse glorification of his work – especially given his philhellene tendencies – exists today as little more than a footnote in the long history of Roman involvement with Mithridates and Tigranes. Of course, Archias’ celebration of Lucullus’ life and work would have made him the perfect target for political attacks orchestrated by Lucullus’ enemies in Rome. Archias’ loyalty to his patron could not be questioned, and the Greek poet was an ideal focal point for any harassment of the optimate politician.34

  The Bona Dea Scandal

  December 62 BC witnessed a celebrated scandal that centred on the behaviour of the notorious Clodius, into which Lucullus was perhaps inevitably drawn. The basic story is simple. The rites of the so-called ‘Bona Dea’ or ‘Good Goddess’ – a divinity of women’s chastity and fertility – were the preserve of women alone. But Clodius had been discovered in women’s clothing, hiding as it were in plain sight among the devotees of the goddess. He was seeking nothing less than the most opportune chance to have a romantic assignation with one Pompeia, the granddaughter of Sulla himself (her mother had been Sulla’s daughter Cornelia). Caesar would end up divorcing Pompeia over this drama – but for the moment, the question was one of sacrilege and profanation of sacred rites, and Clodius faced trial and condemnation.

  In the end, Clodius would be acquitted, despite the vigorous attempts of Lucullus to see him successfully prosecuted. Clodius’ very life was at stake; the alleged crime of desecration of the goddess’ rites was a capital offence. This was the hour, to be sure, for Lucullus to seek revenge for the mutiny of his army after the capture of Nisibis; this was time to charge Clodius with incest and myriad other offences and delicts.35 In the end, Lucullus would expend what political capital he had on a difficult and ultimately unsuccessful effort. Caesar, for his part, was now in a most embarrassing situation as a result of the shenanigans of his wife with Clodius – whether genuine or merely rumoured and insinuated.36

  We can speculate with some confidence that Lucullus was personally shocked and offended by the scandal. No doubt he agreed with Cicero that Clodius was indeed guilty, and this episode far surpassed any ‘immortality’ that might have been found in the Praecia affair. Lucullus no doubt knew Clodius better than most, and was shocked by the sacrilege, even as he was not surprised by the culprit. If Lucullus wanted to embarrass Caesar, the scandal was also a ready-made opportunity for that target shooting. Caesar would have wanted the whole matter closed as quickly as possible, probably without the publicity of a (very) public trial.37

  Clodius managed to escape condemnation – juries could, after all, be successfully bribed. He would remember the part played by Cicero in the prosecution as a star witness – in three short years, Cicero would be exiled, largely at the instigation of the vengeful Pulcher. Clodius would ultimately meet a violent death in a clash of their rival entourages (not to say gangs) with Titus Annius Milo on the Via Appia near Bovillae in 52 BC. In the meantime, he would not likely have forgotten how Lucullus was a prose
cution witness against him.38

  An Ancient Comedy

  Plutarch compares the life of Lucullus to an ancient comedy.39 The first part of his life was replete with the glories of military and political life, and the latter part with revelry, the frivolous nonsense of luxury and the pursuit of pleasure as an end in itself. If Lucullus had been noted as a praiseworthy patron of the arts and literature, now he was open to the criticism that his love for ‘Greek’ life was the source of disrepute and indulgence in folly; rivers of money were poured forth not on the betterment of the state, but on the improved living conditions of the man. The gardens of Lucullus are cited as being the most expensive of imperial botanical retreats, and the money expended on all of this luxury was of course derived from the general’s expeditions in Asia. Plutarch even takes care to note that the money spent by Lucullus was excessive in light of the increased luxury costs of his own day; Lucullus could rival the spending of the later emperors.

  The gardens of Lucullus – the celebrated Horti Luculliani – were located on the Pincian Hill. The Villa Borghese gardens occupy some of the same land on which Lucullus’ property once stood.40 The gardens would later be associated with Claudius’ notorious young wife Messalina; she would be killed there in AD 48 after her disastrous affair with Gaius Silius.41

  Plutarch details the extravagances that were attributed to Lucullus. Pompey is said to have criticized Lucullus for arranging one of his properties in the best possible way for summer, but not for winter. Lucullus retorted that he had more sense than cranes and storks, and was thus capable of changing residences with the season. A praetor asked about purple cloaks for a spectacle; when Lucullus asked how many cloaks were needed, he doubled the cited number from 100 to 200.42 Plutarch cites the aforementioned comment about Lucullus being nothing less than ‘Xerxes in a toga’, though with the attribution of the remark not to Pompey but to the Stoic philosopher Tubero.43 Whoever made the remark – and no doubt it became all too popular in Roman gossip and waggish commentary on the now retired commander – no one could question the immense building projects that Lucullus commenced. Tunnels were built through mountains, moats were constructed around his properties for all manner of ichthyological embellishment and vast structures were built out to sea on piers and piles.