Lucullus

by Lee Fratantuono

  Gastronomic Indulgence

  It was now that the lifestyle of rich indulgence in exotic food and lavish dining ware began in earnest. Another anecdote preserved in Plutarch reveals something of the interaction of Lucullus and Pompey. Pompey was ill, and the physicians had prescribed a certain thrush that was apparently only available in the summer season on one of Lucullus’ estates. Pompey argued that something else would need to be prepared for his medical repast, since one such as Pompey should not have to die because Lucullus was not excessively indulgent in luxurious gastronomical choices. Cato – Lucullus’ father-in-law – was predictably censorious of his son-in-law’s habits. A senator was allegedly once delivering a very boring speech on the virtues of temperance and frugality, when Cato objected that the individual made money like Crassus, lived like Lucullus and talked like Cato.44

  Plutarch goes so far as to say that Lucullus affected the lifestyle of a nouveau riche. The indictment of anecdotes continues in the biography – anecdotes that Plutarch notes point not only to a love of pleasure, but to an absolute pride in the pursuit thereof. Some Greeks were being entertained by Lucullus, and they eventually expressed concern at the high costs that were being incurred every day on their account. When they finally voiced their worries, Lucullus assured them that while some of the money was being spent on the Greek guests, the majority was being spent to entertain the host Lucullus himself. Similarly, a servant once put forth a rather humble dinner on a night when Lucullus was dining alone. When criticized and upbraided by Lucullus for the apparent slight, the servant noted that he simply had taken note of the fact that there were no guests on the agenda today. Did the slave not realize, Lucullus retorted, that tonight Lucullus was dining with Lucullus?45 A clever quip, to be sure – and the sort of comment that often finds a way to be remembered for centuries in the biographical and anecdotal tradition.

  The Descent into Luxury

  We are to believe, then, that the frustration of his military and political career after 66 BC is what accounted for the more or less sudden descent into a life of virtual hedonism for which Lucullus is indicted in the closing chapters of Plutarch’s biography, and in the lasting appraisal of so many of those who have essayed to pass judgment on the man’s life and career.46 Certainly it is possible – indeed, arguably likely – that Lucullus felt supremely unappreciated by the political and military leaders of the late Republic; it is more than plausible that he felt that he deserved better for his many years of service.

  His early career had been founded on principles of loyalty and pietas, qualities he felt were utterly lacking in the treatment that he received from so many in the waning years of his career and in his period of retirement from public life. He had been accused unjustly of having indulged his own pleasures, so perhaps in a passively aggressive fit of reaction, he decided to give in to the indulgence of that for which he had been maligned for so long. The fact that his detractors would then argue that he had always been a libertine was of no real account; Lucullus was finished and done with caring much about his reputation among men he may well have come to despise as intellectual and moral inferiors. As for Pompey, he likely felt that if his great rival was to accomplish anything of note in the East, it would be because Lucullus had made it possible – and anyone with reason and unprejudiced, sober judgment would recognize this salient truth. Lucullus’ father had had a poor reputation, and his mentor Sulla had occasioned far more controversy than most – Lucullus had been scrupulously loyal to both men, and no doubt felt tremendous resentment that his pietas and devotion to his ‘fathers’ was not rewarded or even much appreciated. The Roman world had changed significantly, even in the time that Lucullus had been away in the East, and it would soon see the downfall of Crassus, Pompey and Caesar in turn, as the Republic lurched towards its imperial demise.47

  In some ways, the most brutal indictment of Lucullus’ alleged decadent living is found in Plutarch’s Moralia, in his essay on the work of older men in public affairs.48 There, Plutarch notes that Lucullus was among the very best of the generals in Roman military history, a man noted both for thought and action. But later, he became like a wasted skeleton, a sponge in a calm sea (which will soon enough rot away). Plutarch also notes in his Moralia that Lucullus indulged in inappropriately hedonistic behaviour.49

  Cicero indicted Lucullus, too, in his De Legibus.50 He noted that Lucullus was once criticized for the luxurious state of his villa at Tusculum. Lucullus is alleged to have replied that he had a Roman equestrian living above him, and a freedman below; their villas were quite luxurious, and so surely Lucullus’ should be as well. Cicero apostrophizes Lucullus and notes that the wastrel ways of the equestrian and the freedman are, in fact, the fault of Lucullus. Lucullus was the one responsible for setting the good example, indeed for pursuing the passage of sumptuary laws, so he should have seen to it that villas were not stuffed to the rafters with statues and paintings, especially those that were public property or the property of the gods. For Cicero, it is less a vice that men of high station pursue luxury, than that they set an example that lesser men follow. The state is corrupted when the aristocracy is corrupted.

  Cicero was working on the De Legibus in the final years of life, when Lucullus had already been dead for some time. No doubt the condition of life in the Republic in the mid-40s BC contributed to some of the antagonism that Cicero seems to have felt toward his old friend, on whom he seems to lay the blame for so much of the excess and hedonistic pursuits of his own day. Seneca the Elder also indicts Lucullus for luxuria;51 the context is how much the Romans tolerate in their generals, the vices that they endure in their military leaders.

  The idea that Lucullus not only practised luxurious living, but actually was to blame for introducing it, also appears in the late second-century AD work of Athenaeus, the Deipnosophistae, or ‘Scholars at Dinner’.52 Lucullus is said to have defeated Mithridates and Tigranes, and to have returned home to celebrate a triumph. At that point, he was given over to luxury by an exploitation of the wealth of the two defeated kings. In fact he introduced Rome to such decadent living. The source cited for the charge is Nicolaus of Damascus, the Greek historian and philosopher of the Augustan Age who is perhaps best known today for his biography of Augustus, of which two substantial sections remain, one dealing with the youth of Octavian, and the other with the assassination of Caesar (a valuable source for the latter).

  Marcus Terentius Varro also references Lucullus’ alleged luxury in his books De Agricultura, where there are mentions of his painting collection (I.2.10), estates that were built to the financial detriment of the Republic (I.13.7), his famous fish ponds (III.3.10), his aviary (III.4.3) and his work in cutting through a mountain near Naples to let sea water into his fisheries (III.17.9). There is no allusion whatsoever to Lucullus’ political and military accomplishments; every last note of the man is a record of extravagance and indulgence.

  The anonymous author of the brief biography of Lucullus in the De Viris Illustribus sums up the matter, but with special focus on the arts: Nimius in habitu, maxime signorum et tabularum amore flagravit. Lucullus was a connoisseur of the arts, of statues and paintings – and to an excessive degree. His love for them was burning and consuming; he was luxurious in his pursuit of objets d’art. There is no mention in the admittedly short account of any other aspects of his decadence.53

  Literary Pursuits and Libraries

  But even in this seemingly easily criticized last stage of his life, Plutarch finds grounds to praise Lucullus. A library was established, and Plutarch notes that Lucullus was not merely some collector of rare manuscripts – he actually read his books and used his libraries, and indulged an intellectual curiosity about literature and history.54 His libraries were also open to all, and the Greeks in particular were invited to make full use of the resources that Lucullus had gathered together. Lucullus was a regular visitor to his own library, and more than happy to indulge in intellectual conversation and pursuits with his associates
. His home became an intellectual sanctuary and preserve for the Greek community in Rome; he was a passionate lover of philosophy, interested in the study and pursuit of inquiry into all schools of intellectual thought. Lucullus no doubt engaged in lengthy philosophical discussions with his friend and sometime dinner companion Cicero.

  Many philosophers and great thinkers counselled that a man of intellect and means should not shirk the duties of public life, and for Lucullus, ‘retirement’ was not absolute. Plutarch notes that even now, Lucullus continued to try to help his friends and the general cause of the senatorial faction. If Pompey had aligned himself firmly with popular support, then Lucullus would continue to aid the senatorial or optimate cause, even if Crassus and Cato were to be the de facto leaders of the movement. Lucullus was not willing to be a leader in any attack on Pompey, but he could be counted on for support and assistance in the initiatives of others.55 What emerges from the Plutarchan biography is a complex array of seemingly conflicting lifestyle endeavours. Lucullus is willing to indulge in lavish dinners and ridiculously extravagant building projects, even as he finances libraries and studies philosophy and literature with genuine zeal and ardour, all the while finding time to enter the public arena now and again to defend his friends and their common cause.

  In fact, it is not at all easy to say with any definitive certainty when exactly Lucullus may fairly be said to have retired from public life.56 It is possible that there was no one date to which retirement may be ascribed, but rather a sequential withdrawal from public life, a process by which he slowly yet certainly made his withdrawal from political affairs. Military command may have ended in 66 BC, but political influence and action continued for years thereafter.

  Revenge

  Lucullus did not entirely remove himself from public life. In his continued participation in the political life of the state, he managed to accomplish much. Plutarch’s narrative is brisk and informative, though it raises as many questions as it answers. Lucullus is said to have made certain that the dispositions that Pompey made after the final defeat of the Eastern kings were nullified. Together with Cato, Lucullus is said to have taken care that Pompey’s wishes for land distribution for his men were also to come to naught. The result of all this was that Pompey sided with Crassus and Caesar. Soon enough, the city was filled with Pompey’s men under arms, and the partisans of Cato and Lucullus were expelled from the forum. Pompey’s measures were soon ratified.

  One might almost think from this cursory narrative that the formation of what would come to be known as the First Triumvirate – the alliance between Pompey, Crassus and Caesar – could be credited to the machinations of Cato and Lucullus. Plutarch’s brief version may be compared profitably with the more extended account in Dio Cassius.57 On his return to Italy in 60 BC, Pompey hoped to have all he wanted ratified by the consuls Lucius Afranius and Metellus Celer. His main objectives were indeed the land distribution proposal, and, more generally, his various arrangements and acts with respect to the East. Needless to say, the optimates were not pleased with him. The consul Metellus was annoyed with Pompey because the war hero had also distinguished himself in the official’s eyes by having divorced his sister, despite having had children with her.

  And there was Lucius Lucullus. Dio notes that Pompey had treated Lucullus with contempt in Galatia, and now Lucullus repaid the favour. He insisted that every proposal of Pompey should be subjected to minute and careful scrutiny. There should be no question, Lucullus argued, of a single vote; Rome was a Republic and not a monarchy, and the actions of a commander needed to be reviewed one by one. And there was a personal note. Since Pompey had set aside some of Lucullus’ own arrangements in the East, now the senators should review both sets of plans side by side and make individual decisions on each item. Metellus is said to have agreed with Lucullus, and also Cato. The tribune proposed the land distribution scheme, but the consul Metellus opposed him so violently that the tribune finally resorted to having Metellus imprisoned. Metellus called for a senate meeting in the prison; the argument of the optimates was clearly that the populist Pompey was acting like a tyrant.

  Pompey was afraid that he and his supporters might appear to be acting in too heavy-handed a fashion. He soon also made clear, however, that he thought that Metellus and the rest were jealous of him, and that he would make this case to the plebeians. We may reasonably surmise that Pompey argued at this juncture that Lucullus was simply bitter and resentful that Pompey had finished what he had failed to resolve.

  In the end, however, Pompey gave up his demands, allegedly out of fear that the plebs would not support him. Pompey was immediately regretful that he had seemingly overplayed his hand.

  To make matters worse for an optimate politician – an old and unreconstructed Sullan like Lucullus – 60 BC was the year of the formation of the so-called ‘First Triumvirate’, the agreement of convenience and mutual benefit between Crassus, Pompey and Caesar. The three men knew that for the moment they had more to gain by unity than division, and that there were ample opportunities afoot for them to help each other in achieving at least some immediate goals – all while paving the way individually for uncertain futures.

  At this point we may compare the information provided by Plutarch in his life of Pompey.58 Plutarch notes that Lucullus was treated outrageously by Pompey in Asia. The senate was ready to honour Lucullus in every way, and was eager for Lucullus to take his part in public life as a counterweight to Pompey’s increasing power. Lucullus was allegedly already beginning to succumb to luxury, but he launched a vigorous attack on Pompey – and with the help of Cato, he succeeded in his initiatives of revenge. Pompey had no real support then, he felt, except from the tribunes; Clodius was first among these to help him. Soon enough, Pompey entered his alliance with Caesar and Crassus; Pompey filled the city with his soldiers. One day the consul Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus was going to the forum with Lucullus and Cato when a crowd set upon him and broke the fasces of his lictors, and there were insults and mockery. Pompey quickly won the ratification of that which Lucullus had contested.59 Lucullus had once again played a significant role in Roman public affairs, only in the end to be thwarted in the attainment of his ultimate goals.

  Chapter 7

  Twilight Time

  The Vettius Plot

  The equestrian Lucius Vettius met his death mysteriously in 59 BC. He is a significant figure in one of the last ‘public’ incidents in the life of Lucullus – an incident that we may call the Vettius Affair, which took place perhaps in the late summer of 59.1

  In brief, Vettius was allegedly caught in a plot to assassinate Pompey. When confronted and questioned, he cast aspersions and imputed culpability on some younger Romans (including the Brutus who would one day kill Caesar). Soon enough the story expanded, and he blamed Lucullus in part for the scheme; Lucullus’ name was invoked as one of the forces behind the planned murder.2 First the young people had been named, then the older members of the optimate faction. No one seems to have believed Vettius, however, and a few days later he was found dead in prison. Some said that he died of natural causes, but his body had marks of violence, and so the story spread that the very men who had com-missioned the assassination had now taken care that Vettius would be eliminated.

  Plutarch notes that this episode was the cause of Lucullus withdrawing even more from public life. Dio, as often, offers more information.3 He claims that Cicero and Lucullus conceived of the idea to have both Caesar and Pompey killed, and that Lucius Vettius was recruited to assist in carrying out the plan. All three failed, and all three were in mortal danger. Vettius was caught, and he immediately implicated Cicero and Lucullus; fortunately for them, he also named Bibulus. The accusations against all three men seemed baseless, and merely the attempt of Vettius to improve his own desperate situation. Dio carefully notes that many stories were au courant about the whole episode, precisely since nothing was ever definitely proven – and in this he may well be absolutely correct. Vettius was thrown i
nto prison and later murdered. Cicero was held in suspicion ever after by both Caesar and Pompey. Lucullus rather fades away in Dio’s account of the episode. The definitive facts about the Vettius affair remain elusive. Was Caesar behind the plot? Was the whole matter a fiction of Pompey’s to arouse sympathy and shore up his support base? Was Lucullus really involved in what would have seemed to some to be an act of just revenge for the treatment he had received in Asia? We simply cannot know.4

  Vettius already had a dark reputation in Rome as an index, or informer. He was not among the more reputable or honoured men of his age, even if his skills had been used on behalf of Cicero in the days of the Catilinarian conspiracy. He had approached Gaius Scribonius Curio the Younger with his plan to assassinate Pompey, and the Younger Curio had told his homonymous father of the plot. It would appear that Vettius was seeking to discredit Curio by hoping for Curio to join eagerly in Vettius’ ‘plot’; Vettius never expected that Curio would tell his father of the whole matter. If the story seems especially byzantine, we may rest assured that it appeared quite the same to Vettius’ contemporaries. The ‘guilty’ kept changing, and nobody knew exactly what was afoot. What mattered most in the end, perhaps, was that Vettius was found dead – his usefulness had no doubt run its course, and perhaps he was annoying the wrong people with his ever-expanding, ever-changing tales of conspiracy. Brutus – one day famous as a tyrannicide – was plausibly enough named among the culpable, and Lucullus was no friend of Pompey, most might think – but there is no good reason to believe that there ever was a serious assassination plot, and even less to believe that Lucullus was somehow involved. If Lucullus really was involved, so, it would seem, were several other men of different ages and temperaments. In the end, the only casualty of the affair was Vettius himself. There were those who thought that Caesar himself was responsible for silencing Vettius permanently; again, we have no way of knowing for sure. Given the sensational nature of the proceedings, it was perhaps inevitable that Lucullus’ name would be thrown in with other would-be killers of Pompey.5 The fact that the First Triumvirate was by now in full swing no doubt added to the climate of conspiracy and tales thereof. Caesar himself had nearly died in the days of the Sullan proscriptions; no doubt he felt some pride in being a part of the dismantling of the Sullan regime, of which Lucullus was an increasingly aged, insignificant relic.