The Storm Before the Storm

by Michael Duncan

  Instead, the Senate dispatched yet another commission, this one led by the princeps senatus Scaurus. Scaurus had been a consistent critic of Jugurtha and upon arrival in Africa sent orders for the wayward king to present himself at once. Jugurtha knew Roman politics well and knew Scaurus was a man to be feared. After one last failed attempt to take Cirta, Jugurtha gave up and presented himself to the Romans. But while enduring Scaurus’s admonishments, Jugurtha noticed he did not hear any firm threat to introduce the legions. It dawned on him that Scaurus was there to avoid a military entanglement, not provoke one. As it turned out there was not much to fear from the Romans—they wanted no part of a war in Numidia.36

  With Scaurus in Africa negotiating a settlement, the Italian merchants in Cirta, who had been urging Adherbal to resist, now advised him to submit. They told him to surrender to Jugurtha and that both kings should swear to abide by whatever settlement the Senate decreed. Adherbal could demonstrate his own goodwill by demanding nothing more than his own life be spared. Adherbal agreed—which turned out to be a fatal error. After Adherbal walked out of the gates of Cirta, Jugurtha wasted no time dispensing with his troublesome younger brother. The unfortunate Adherbal was apprehended and tortured to death.37

  Had Jugurtha stopped with the execution of Adherbal, the whole affair might have ended right there. The Senate likely would have recognized him as the sole king of Numidia and life would have gone on. But as soon as his forces entered Cirta, Jugurtha’s men took bloody vengeance on everyone in the city. The order went out that any “who were found with arms in their hands” were to be killed, but the order was interpreted loosely and led to a general massacre that consumed hundreds of people, including most of the Italian merchants. This was the moment that it all went wrong for Jugurtha. Even a Senate that did not want to get involved in Numidia could not ignore the slaughter of their countrymen.38

  BACK IN ROME, the clear consensus was that Jugurtha had gone too far. But even more than that, public opinion now recognized that the Senate had been mismanaging Numidian affairs for years. The rumors of bribery and corruption had long been swirling in the Forum. When news hit of Jugurtha’s latest outrage—the sadistic massacre of Italians—the tribunes demanded the Senate take action. Real action. Military action.39

  The Senate relented. That year’s consul, Lucius Calpurnius Bestia, was assigned to the province of Africa and ordered to raise legions. While he assembled his army, Bestia also selected an influential group of legati to serve as his senior advisers. Among those was Scaurus, who made sure he was placed on Bestia’s staff. Having failed once to keep the legions out of Numidia, Scaurus still sought a peaceful resolution to the crisis. The discussions between Bestia and Scaurus would have revolved around how much of a show of force was necessary to bring Jugurtha to heel.40

  Jugurtha was surprised to find Rome now mobilizing for action. He believed that his money had been spread lavishly enough—and that the Romans disdained military intervention in Numidia enough—that he would never have to face them in battle. He could think of only one thing to do. Jugurtha dispatched one of his sons and two close friends to make the trip to Rome with even more money to try to bribe the Senate back into docility. But the political winds had shifted. The Senate barred the Numidians from Rome and passed a decree ordering them to vacate Italy within ten days.41

  In the summer of 111, Bestia’s legions sailed for the province of Africa and from there advanced across the Numidian border. Hearing the legions had entered his territory, Jugurtha sent agents to the Bestia. Jugurtha’s envoys told the consul that conquering Numidia would be a long and expensive affair and that it would be much better for everyone if an agreement could be reached. Then Jugurtha presented himself personally to Bestia and Scaurus and the three sat down for a private conference. During this conference it was agreed that in exchange for an indemnity payment of “thirty elephants, many cattle and horses, and a small amount of silver,” Rome would recognize Jugurtha as the sole king of Numidia and everyone would go home.42

  The perfunctory campaign and easy terms raised hell back in Rome, but Scaurus hoped the charade would end the crisis. With Jugurtha now sole king of Numidia, he would cease to be a threat and the Senate could focus on Rome’s far more porous and dangerous northern border.

  BUT THE CHARADE was not enough. The plebs urbana expected Bestia to return with Jugurtha’s complete capitulation; instead messengers brought the shocking news that Bestia was withdrawing after securing a paltry indemnity. One young leader in particular grabbed onto the scandals surrounding Jugurtha as his ticket to power: Gaius Memmius. Memmius had been one of the vocal proponents of sending Bestia to Numidia in the first place, and after being elected tribune for 111, he denounced the Senate’s foot dragging and claimed that they were complicit in Jugurtha’s crimes. The facts were plain: Roman honor had once again been “nullified by avarice.”43

  When word of the settlement reached Rome, Memmius launched a full broadside on the vicious cupidity of the Senate: “Men stained with crime, with gory hands, of monstrous greed, guilty, yet at the same time full of pride, who have made honor, reputation, loyalty, in short everything honorable and dishonorable, a source of gain.” But he also scolded the people for allowing it to go on: “You were silently indignant that the treasury was pillaged, that kings and free peoples paid tribute to a few nobles, that those nobles possessed supreme glory and vast wealth.” He then addressed all of Rome: “the Senate’s dignity has been prostituted to a ruthless enemy, your sovereignty has been betrayed, your country offered for sale at home and abroad.” 44

  But Memmius took pains to not let things get out of hand. Specifically invoking the martyred Gracchi, he said: “After the murder of Tiberius Gracchus… prosecutions were instituted against the Roman commons. Again, after Gaius Gracchus and Marcus Fulvius were slain, many men of your order suffered death in the dungeon. In both cases bloodshed was ended, not by law, but by the caprice of the victors.” Illegal violence was the tactic of reactionary nobles. Taking the high road, Memmius said: “Let those who have betrayed their country to the enemy be punished, not by arms or by violence, which it is less becoming for you to inflict than for them to suffer, but by the courts.” And Memmius had a very specific thing in mind: he wanted Jugurtha himself to testify against the corrupt Senate.45

  Memmius induced the Assembly to order a praetor to go to Numidia, fetch Jugurtha, and bring him back to Rome to identify the senators he had bribed. The king was to remain under the full protection of the tribunes’ authority and could expect full immunity for his testimony. Whatever the true scope of their individual guilt, the Senate cannot have liked the sound of this. Jugurtha did not like the sound of it, either, but he didn’t really have much choice in the matter. If he did not come, it would prove he was a traitor to Rome. So when the praetor arrived to fetch him, Jugurtha got on the boat and they departed Numidia.46

  After years of scandal, Jugurtha’s arrival in Rome was a sensation. Ever the savvy operator, Jugurtha made sure to dress in humble clothes without any of the finery he usually wore. If he hoped to make it out of this in one piece, he couldn’t come parading into Rome like King Moneybags. But even in humble dress, he couldn’t resist throwing around some cash. With his testimony scheduled for the Assembly, he set out to find an agreeable tribune and retain his services. Jugurtha found such a man in Gaius Bebius, who, after pocketing Jugurtha’s cash, promised to act on the king’s behalf.47

  When the Assembly met, the crowd was agitated and hostile. Once Jugurtha himself came out, Memmius launched into a full recounting of how deeply Jugurtha had corrupted the Senate. But he reminded everyone that Jugurtha himself was here to testify, not be punished. The crowd waited expectantly for the big moment when Jugurtha would reveal all. But the king did not move and did not speak. Instead, Gaius Bebius stepped forward and told the king to remain silent. Bebius said that he was vetoing the proceedings. The crowd was stunned and then erupted in anger. But much like Octavius’s veto
ing of Tiberius Gracchus’s land bill, nothing would persuade or intimidate Bebius into changing his mind. That was it. Jugurtha would not testify. The Assembly shook with rage as Jugurtha was escorted off the rostra, but when he was gone the crowds dissipated peacefully. They did not, however, forget the prize they had been denied.48

  During his sojourn in Rome, Jugurtha resolved to tie up some loose ends. His prior conduct had triggered a diaspora of anyone with Numidian royal blood, all of whom rightfully considered themselves targets for assassination. A few of these refugees wound up in Rome, and one of them positioned himself as a replacement king if the Romans squashed Jugurtha—a grandson of the late Numidian king Micipsa named Massiva. Jugurtha caught wind of this plot and determined to do to Massiva what he had already done to Hiempsal and Adherbal.49

  Jugurtha delegated the task to Bomilcar, one of his most loyal supporters. Bomilcar trolled the seedy underbelly of Rome until he made contact with a small group of men who were “adept in such business.” These men stalked Massiva until they learned his regular schedule, set a trap, and jumped him. But the hit was not carried out with anything resembling ninja stealth. Massiva was killed but it was such a reckless, loud fight that the murder was discovered and the assassins apprehended. Dragged before the consul, the killers made a full confession and implicated Bomilcar as the mastermind.50

  Skirting the protection that had been offered Jugurtha, the consul prepared to bring Bomilcar to trial for the crime—and hopefully implicate Jugurtha along the way. The Numidian king tried to laugh off the charges and handed over fifty of his retainers to guarantee Bomilcar’s appearance in court. But unable to halt the proceedings with his usual array of bribes, Jugurtha decided to cut his losses. Abandoning the fifty hostages to their fate, Jugurtha arranged for Bomilcar’s escape from Rome. When the Senate discovered the defendant had escaped, they ordered Jugurtha himself to vacate Rome immediately. As he departed, Jugurtha looked back at Rome and issued his famous judgment: “A city for sale and doomed to speedy destruction if it finds a purchaser.”51

  * See prologue.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE SPOILS OF VICTORY

  For the first time resistance was offered to the insolence of the nobles, the beginning of a struggle which threw everything, human and divine, into confusion, and rose to such a pitch of frenzy that civil discord ended in war and the devastation of Italy.

  SALLUST1

  SOMETIME AFTER 120 BC, A GREAT NORTHERN TRIBE CALLED the Cimbri left their homeland near modern Denmark and migrated south. Over the following months and years they progressed toward the Danube, and then followed the course of the river west toward the Alps. Since no one is thrilled when a horde of three hundred thousand strangers comes wandering over the horizon, wherever the Cimbri went, they were met by hostile natives. But since the Cimbri were not a conquering horde, they were willing to move on when faced with hostility from the existing inhabitants. All they were looking for was a peaceful place to settle where they could build a new life.2

  Like so many “barbarian” tribes who inhabited the world beyond the Mediterranean, identifying who the Cimbri were, and where they came from, is difficult for historians. The Romans were never too particular about getting the details right and had a tendency to make sweeping generalizations, lumping completely different peoples into single catch-all categories. The Cimbri are alternatively described as being Gauls, Scythians, Celts, and Germans—and even when they are successfully identified in 114 as the “Cimbri,” the sources are unclear whether it was really one homogenous people or whether it was a roving confederation that also included groups like the Teutones and Ambrones. The Romans also tended to describe every barbarian tribe as enormous, hairy, painted, dirty, and loud—more beasts than men. Mustering every ounce of hackney stereotyping, the historian Diodorus says the Cimbri “had the appearance of giants, endowed with enormous strength.” But since this is how the Romans described every Germanic tribe, it is difficult to know what the Cimbri really looked like.3

  If we can’t say exactly who the Cimbri were, we also can’t say exactly why they started migrating. The geographer Strabo says it was an “inundation of the sea” that forced them to relocate from their ancestral home on the North Sea. But whether it was ecological change, overcrowding, intertribal war, or a combination of those factors, by 120, a mass of two hundred to three hundred thousand Cimbri packed their bags and began walking south. By 113, the Cimbri had reached modern-day Slovenia, putting them just on the other side of the Alps from Italy. A local tribe warned the Romans of the sudden appearance of this new horde and asked the Senate for protection.4

  Alarmed at the potential threat on their northern border, the Senate ordered consul Gnaeus Papirius Carbo—brother of the Gracchan land commissioner who had been driven to suicide—to take legions north to guard the frontier. Carbo placed his legions in the principal Alpine passes to make sure the Cimbri did not enter Italy. Whether it was the presence of the legions or because they never planned to enter Italy in the first place, the Cimbri kept moving west into what is today the Austrian Alps. After they bypassed his initial positions, Carbo reformed his legions and followed the Cimbri at a safe distance to monitor their movements and make sure they did not get any ideas about taking a left turn into Italy.5

  Eventually, the Cimbri took notice of the Romans and sent ambassadors to meet with Carbo. The consul was surprised by their civilized manners and pleased when they said they sought no quarrel and were simply looking for an uninhabited territory to live in. In an apparent gesture of friendship, Carbo assigned some local guides to show the Cimbri the best route to Gaul—which he said would take them past the city of Noreia. But either because Carbo was genuinely suspicious of Cimbric intentions, or was spoiling for an opportunity to win a triumph, this gesture of friendship was a deadly ruse. Carbo instructed the guides to take the Cimbri on a circuitous route through the mountains while Carbo took his legions on a shortcut to Noreia. There Carbo’s troops took up a hidden position and waited to pounce when the unsuspecting Cimbri finally arrived.6

  Philosophers of war have maintained that victory in the field often goes to the general who is either able to choose the terrain of battle or maintain the element of surprise. At Noreia Carbo had both, but it did him little good because he dramatically underestimated the size of the enemy. When Carbo sprang his trap, the legions were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of Cimbric warriors, who smashed Carbo’s army and forced them into a disorganized retreat. It was a humiliating defeat.7

  Luckily for the Romans, the Cimbri did not follow up their victory by invading Italy. It really did seem like they were searching for a peaceful homeland to settle and had no wish to tangle further with the duplicitous and warlike Romans. But the fate of the two nations was now linked—the Battle of Noreia was only the beginning of the Cimbrian Wars.

  EVEN BEFORE THE arrival of the Cimbri, the Senate was not thrilled about the state of their northern border, which now seemed to be under constant and perhaps fatal pressure from migrating hordes.

  The trouble began on the Macedonian border in 114. The Scordisci, a Thracian tribe that dominated the Danube, began making incursions south into Roman territory. To stop the incursions, the Senate dispatched consul Gaius Porcius Cato, grandson of the legendary Cato the Elder, but Cato’s army was crushed. With the Roman defenses in Macedonia shattered, the Scordisci overwhelmed the reserve garrisons and carved a wide swath of destruction. One scandalized Roman colorfully described the Scordisci invasion: “They left no cruelty untried, as they vented their fury on their prisoners; they sacrificed to the gods with human blood; they drank out of human skulls; by every kind of insult inflicted by burning and fumigation they made death more foul.” This culminated with the sack of the Oracle of Delphi, one of the most famous and sacred institutions of the Greek world. Though known to hold a rich depository of treasure, the Oracle was protected by its universally recognized sanctity. But as the Scordisci recognized no such sanctity
, they plundered Delphi at will.8

  As the Scordisci had their way in Macedonia, the Senate was forced to send legion after legion for the next two years. One of the Metelli cousins led the Roman armies in 113 and the following year he was succeeded by our old friend Marcus Livius Drusus, the crafty tribune who successfully undercut Gaius Gracchus during their shared tribunate a decade earlier. Now a consul, Drusus successfully brought the conflict to a close, ending his year on campaign with a major victory that finally pushed the Scordisci out of Roman territory. The Scordisci remained a constant threat, however, so in 110 the Senate had to send yet another consul to aggressively patrol the Macedonian border against further invasion.9

  With the Scordisci running amok in Macedonia and Greece, and the huge mob of Cimbri wandering around near the Alps, the Senate prioritized the stability of the northern border during these years. The crisis in the north certainly helps explain the Senate’s anemic response to Jugurtha. Senatorial leaders like Scaurus hoped that negotiation and patience would bring order back to Numidia—which had, after all, been a faithful ally to Rome for nearly a century. What later Roman historians like Sallust blamed on scandalous bribery could simply have been the realistic recognition of the greater dangers in the north. Why send troops to Numidia when Italy itself was threatened by barbarian invasion?