Lucullus: A Life (Classical Lives)

Lucullus

Classical lives

Also available in this series Julian An intellectual biography Polymnia Athanassiadi The Emperor Domitian Brian W.Jones

Lucullus

A Life

Arthur Keaveney

London and New York

First published 1992 by Routledge 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge a division of Routledge, Chapman and Hall Inc. 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2003. © 1992 Arthur Keaveney All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Keaveney, Arthur Lucullus: a life.—(Classical lives) I. Title II. Series 355.10937 Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Keaveney, Arthur Lucullus: a life/Arthur Keaveney. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Lucullus, ca. 117 B.C.–ca. 56 B.C. 2. Rome—History—Republic 265–30 B.C. 3. Generals—Rome—Biography. 4. Statesmen—Rome— Biography. I. Title. DG260. L8K43 1992 937´.05´092–dc20 [B] 91–40530 CIP ISBN 0-203-40484-X Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-203-71308-7 (Adobe eReader Format) ISBN 0-415-03219-9 (Print Edition)

For Jenny

Contents

Preface

ix

I

Lucius Licinius Lucullus and the Luculli

1

II

Master and pupil

15

III

The politic man

32

IV

The consulship

51

V

Confronting the king: the war with Mithridates 75

VI

Confronting the king: the war with Tigranes

VII

The life of a sponge?

129

VIII

‘…retired Leisure that in trim gardens takes his pleasure’

143

Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age

166

Appendix 1: Asia 81–79 Appendix 2: When did the Third Mithridatic War begin? Notes Bibliography Index

182

IX

vii

99

188 206 261 268

Preface

Some years ago when writing a biography of Sulla I became intrigued by the figure of Lucullus, a man with whom he formed an unusual but enduring friendship. There and then I conceived the notion of writing Lucullus’ life when I had done with other tasks. I have found him to be a figure of great interest in himself, but he is also of considerable importance as one of those who carried the Sullan republican ideal into the next generation. As we study him we study, too, the last days of the Roman republic. Through his eyes and by his side we watch an ideal perish. His failure is the failure of a whole class. I was encouraged to undertake the present work by the absence of anything comparable in English. Other languages are better served. In French we have long had the work of the learned Fr. van Ooteghem, while German speakers can consult the austere but penetrating RE article by Gelzer. Even as I wrote, Antonelli gave the Italian world his entertaining but somewhat unscholarly treatment. I am aware, of course, that some, who do not themselves practise the art of ancient biography, believe that a task such as this were better left unattempted. Personally, I have never been able to understand why, when so much about the ancient world is dark, the inadequacies of the evidence in this particular department should be singled out for a special mention. Nor can I see what is wrong with being curious about the leading figures of antiquity and labouring in consequence to achieve a fuller understanding of them. Moreover, it is not perhaps altogether fanciful to suggest that if we do acquire a better understanding of a man like Lucullus then perhaps we may acquire a better understanding of his age as well. For help in the making of this book I have but one institution ix

x

Preface

to thank: my own university, Kent, which allowed me a term’s study leave in Michaelmas 1990. As regards individuals I would like to thank Mr D.R.Nightingale, Dr G.Anderson, Professor E.Badian and Dr J.Madden who answered queries while the work was in progress and Mr R.Seager who kindly read through the whole manuscript when it was completed. A version of part of Chapter VIII was read to the 1991 AGM of the Classical Association at Warwick University and benefited, I believe, by some comments then. I owe an especial debt to Dr Tracey Rihll for preparing the maps and my wife Jenny and Dr Anderson for help with the proofs. Finally, I should like to mention Rebecca Edwards and Hilary Joce of Darwin College Secretar iat who braved my handwriting to produce the typescript. For the rest, suffice to say that this book is the sole responsibility of the undersigned. Arthur Keaveney Darwin College University of Kent at Canterbury

I Lucius Licinius Lucullus and the Luculli

In every land and under every clime nobles have shown the greatest pride in their ancestry. The Romans are no exception to this rule. The Julii Caesares, for instance, unblushingly declared that they were descended from the goddess Venus herself. The Luculli, with more modesty, but no more truth, spoke of a certain Lucullus who as a king of Illyria led his people into Italy in the distant past where they eventually became the nation of the Paeligni, inhabitants of the centre of that country. So far as we are concerned, however, the first historical L.Licinius Lucullus is a man who was curule aedile in 202. Learned opinion in ancient Rome and in our own day holds that his name ‘Lucullus’ is a diminutive of ‘Lucius’. This latter signifies ‘born at dawn’. The Licinian gens to which the Luculli belonged was plebeian. Other members included the Calvi, the Murenae, the Nervae and the Crassi. The word ‘Licinius’ is believed to derive from the Etruscan lecne (‘curving’ or ‘slant’) which first came into Latin as the adjective licinius. We hear for instance of licini boves or oxen with horns which slanted upwards. During the fifth and part of the fourth century the Licinii played a fairly prominent part in Roman public life. Towards the middle of the fourth century, however, they suffered an eclipse that lasted for some hundred years. The revival of their fortunes towards the last quarter of the third century was largely due to the Crassi and the Luculli. Aside from the curule aedile we have noted, the Luculli gave the world two tribunes of the plebs, one in 196 and another in 110. An M.Lucullus was praetor peregrinus in 186, the troubled year of the Bacchic conspiracy. Scholars are undecided as to how exactly our Lucullus is to be fitted into the family tree. One school believes that his grandfather L.Licinius Lucullus (cos. 151) 1

2

Lucullus

was the son of that Lucius who was curule aedile in 202. Others take the view that the consul of 151 was the son or grandson of C.Lucullus, tribune of the plebs in 196. But, whatever problems there may be in tracing his exact line of descent, we are, nevertheless, reasonably well informed about our Lucullus’ grandfather. Since he was the first of the family to reach the consulship it was he who, in accordance with Roman custom and practice, conferred upon it the status of noble. Our Lucullus thus inherited his status and probably also his wealth from this man who, it may be said, he in some respects resembled. Both were to tangle with tribunes. The grandfather and his colleague were, during the year of their consulship, thrown into prison by the tribunes because of the way in which they conducted the levy for war in Spain. According to one version, it was their excessive severity that led the tribunes to take this action. According to another, it was the favouritism they showed in granting exemptions from serving in what was a dangerous and unpopular war. In other ways, however, the subject of our study differed radically from his ancestor. While our Lucullus gained an exemplary reputation for his provincial government his grandfather garnered exactly the opposite. Once he got to Spain he soon earned for himself a well-deserved name for cruelty, treachery and rapacity. Finding that his predecessor had made peace with the Celtiberi in Hither Spain and thus deprived him of the booty and glory he craved, he at once determined to seek them elsewhere. So he turned on the neighbouring Vaccaei who were completely inoffensive. After their principal city Cauca (Coca) had surrendered to him on terms Lucullus massacred all the male inhabitants and looted the place. His next move was against Intercatia (Villalpardo). He offered the inhabitants a treaty but they prudently refused. Eventually, with both sides suffering the rigours of a siege, an agreement was patched up. The townsfolk, however, insisted that Scipio Aemilianus who was in Lucullus’ army and had a reputation for uprightness should act as its guarantor. Lucullus’ next target was a third city Pallantia (Palencia) but operations had to be called off because of the onset of winter. In the next year Lucullus joined Ser. Sulpicius Galba, governor of Further Spain, in an attack on Lusitania. To celebrate his successes in Spain Lucullus erected in the Velabrium a temple to Felicitas. It was adorned with statues which Mummius the conqueror of Greece lent Lucullus. Some

Lucius and the Luculli

3

time later, when Mummius asked for these back he was told by Lucullus that this was impossible as they were now dedicated to the goddess.1 This man’s son, the father of our Lucullus, and himself a Lucius was born about the year 144. He married—and again we can only give an approximate date—in or around 119. His bride was a Caecilia Metella who, as her name suggests, was sprung from the Metelli, then one of the most powerful families in Rome. Of the political advantages this woman conferred on her husband we shall speak in a moment. Of the lady herself all we know is that she was said to be a bad woman, and we may anticipate our story a little by observing that she was not to be the last such to cleave to the house of the Luculli. Both this generation and the next seem to have had an infinite capacity for contracting unhappy marriages. 2 Two sons were born of the match: Lucius, our subject, whose date of birth may, in spite of that uncertainty which has plagued us in tracing the family tree, most likely be assigned to 118, although some would favour 117; and Marcus who we know for certain was born in 116.3 Lucullus père was elected to the praetorship in 104. As I hinted a little earlier, he may have owed something of his success to his wife’s family. Metella was the daughter of one consul, Metellus Calvus (142) and the sister of two others, Metellus Delmaticus (119) and Metellus Numidicus (109). With members of a family like that commending a man to the voters his path to office would surely be broadened and smoothed.4 Lucullus was either praetor urbanus or peregrinus and as such would normally be expected to carry out his duties in the city. An emergency, however, led to his being despatched to the south where a slave rebellion had broken out in what can only be described as romantic circumstances. A young eques from Capua called Vettius had fallen in love with a slave-girl. Being impoverished, he could not immediately pay the price asked for her freedom. He was, however, able to obtain her on credit and promised to pay by a certain day. When that arrived he was still unable to meet his obligations but continued to receive an extension of the period of grace. But when that too ran out Vettius’ position was no better and the only solution he could come up with was to have recourse to arms. Kitting himself out with a diadem and a purple robe and surrounding himself with lictors, he first led his slaves against his creditors and then spread the rebellion further afield.

4

Lucullus

Eventually he built a fort on a hill near Capua and by welcoming fugitive slaves he increased his force to 700. The Romans took this matter very seriously. They had not forgotten the horrors of the First Slave War in Sicily, although it had ended some thirty years before, and moreover they had witnessed recently rebellion like that of Vettius at Nuceria and Capua. So Lucullus was despatched to put things to rights. At first the strong insurgent position baffled him but then he was able to induce Vettius’ principal ally to desert and was, in consequence, able to make short work of those who remained.5 In truth this war was little more than a scuffle in a cornfield but now Lucullus received a commission that would test his talents a little more. What has since become known as the Second Sicilian Slave War had just broken out and, like the first, was on a grand scale. So Lucullus was sent out with augmented forces, in order to put it down. The rebel leader, a man called Salvius, had assumed the name ‘Tryphon’ together with the pretensions of a king. His court was established at a town called Tr iocala (Caltabellotta?) and it was for this place that Lucullus headed. Battle was joined some distance away. For a time the issue was doubtful, but at last the slave army turned and fled. The survivors took refuge in Triocala. Lucullus, at first, made an attempt to take the town but to no avail. After that he seems to have done nothing. Some claimed he was simply being indolent, while others suggested he was being his father’s son and consuming his energies in extorting money from the provincials. Whatever the truth of this last allegation, it was to return soon to haunt Lucullus. For the moment, however, he reacted with anger to the news that a certain C.Servilius was being sent out (102) to replace him. He vented his spleen by disbanding his troops and firing his camp and siege works. He hoped, it is said, that the consequent difficulties for his successor would show he had not been deliberately prolonging the war.6 The ploy did not, however, work. So far as can be made out, Servilius complained to Rome about what had happened and a cousin, known as Servilius the Augur, took up the cudgels on his behalf. Since C.Servilius had two brothers who did not bestir themselves on this occasion we may suspect that this display of familial loyalty had more than a trace of self-interest in it and was primarily designed to further the Augur’s political career. At any rate he brought a charge of res repetundae (extortion) against

Lucius and the Luculli

5

Lucullus. The latter naturally turned to his powerful in-laws for help, only to meet with a rebuff. Metellus Numidicus refused to speak on his behalf. Various theories have been put forward to account for this behaviour. Some invoke the widespread Metellan family tree with its intertwining branches. One of Metellus’ sisters might be married to Lucullus but he was not likely to forget that the Servilii brothers also had a Metella for a mother and under these circumstances he may have judged it best to steer clear of the whole affair. Others think that Lucullus’ guilt was so patent, or, at least, that his conviction was so certain, that Metellus could see no point in intervening on his behalf. While such speculation seems plausible enough at first sight, I am not sure that it is strictly necessary. One ancient text does preserve what appears to be Metellus’ own publicly declared reason for refusing aid to Lucullus. Unfortunately, ambiguity, excessive terseness and possible corruption make it enigmatic to say the least. Nevertheless, one fact does emerge with tolerable clar ity: Metellus had been offended by some kind of irregularity in Lucullus’ conduct of his praetorship (not necessarily in Sicily) and for that reason he would not have anything to do with him. And from what we know of Metellus such an obsessive preoccupation with legal niceties and such a display of high-minded probity is not at all surprising. In other words, Metellus rejected Lucullus’ request from what appeared to himself at any rate as the highest of motives; and when the matter went to court Lucullus was condemned and forced into exile.7 So far as the Luculli were concerned, this was tantamount to a declaration of war. A feud had begun between the two families.8 There is dispute, however, as to its next manifestation. When Servilius returned from Sicily he too faced a charge similar to that of Lucullus and like him he succumbed. The plausible suggestion that the friends of the Luculli engineered this has not won universal acceptance.9 What is beyond doubt though is that hostilities temporar ily ceased dur ing the exile of Metellus Numidicus which had been engineered by his great foe, Marius, and lasted from 100 to 98. Then the Luculli seem to have had no difficulty in co-operating with the Servilii and others in working for his return.10 It may very well be that they bore Metellus no ill-will or perhaps they at least considered it politic to dissemble. The recall of Metellus was certainly popular with the nobility as a whole.

6

Lucullus

By this time they had tamed Marius and the return of his enemy would set the crown on their triumph. As we shall see, the policies the Luculli were to pursue would render them anyway sympathetic to the outlook of Metellus, however much they might feel resentment against him personally. 11 The feud itself was resumed with a celebrated court case. When his father went into exile Lucullus would have barely reached man’s estate which was signified in Rome at the age of 16 by the donning of the toga virilis. But when he and Marcus attained their majority, although they did not neglect their obligatory military service,12 they devoted most of their energies to a training in forensic oratory. The two often worked together, and Cicero praises Lucullus’ oratory as ‘sharp’, implying that his ultimate decision to seek glory in battle rather than in court was a definite loss to the bar. He says indeed that Lucullus was a man of natural ability and singles out his memory as a gift with which he was particularly endowed. We may also add that Lucullus’ tall and handsome appearance may have added something to the effect he produced. And, even if we concede that there may be some exaggeration in these antique laudations, it must, nevertheless, be admitted that Lucullus’ oratory would seem to have been sufficiently developed to allow him to hold his own in the forum and the senate.13 When they were satisfied that they had had sufficient training and had honed their talents fine enough the Luculli decided the time had come to apply their learning and so they turned on Servilius the Augur. The date is hotly disputed but I am inclined to put it fairly early in Lucullus’ career and would favour sometime in the early 90s when it may even mark the brothers’ debut in court. 14 What seems to have happened is that they picked the year when Servilius was quaestor and levelled at him a charge of using public funds for illegal purposes. In Roman law this was held to be perduellio or treason.15 Great excitement was aroused by the proceedings and eventually things got completely out of hand. Both sides had brought their supporters to the court and these set upon each other, with the result that several deaths and injuries resulted from the affray. The forensic performance of the Luculli was much admired but, nevertheless, Servilius was acquitted.16 A consideration of the differing reactions that this episode awoke throws a considerable light on the Roman character. To

Lucius and the Luculli

7

begin with we may look at the high-minded. They said it was the duty of the public-spirited to take action when they saw evildoing in public life. The absence of a public prosecution service in Rome was more than made up for by the presence of a large number of lofty-minded prigs.17 However, it was well known that this sort of thing might wear another aspect and one that would seem to us to be less commendable. It was a plain fact of Roman public life that quarrels between members of the nobility were often carried out through the medium of the courts. A charge was devised or utilized to bring embarrassment or ruin on an opponent. So it followed that a man must needs know how to attack or defend himself. As Plutarch tried to explain to his Greek readers, an early start was desirable in order to gain valuable experience and the whole business could be likened to a young hunting dog fastening himself on a wild beast.18 With a cluck of disapproval the Anglo-Saxon would no doubt apply the good Italian term of vendetta to the behaviour of the brothers Luculli. The Romans took a rather different view of the matter. They regarded an act of revenge of this type as perfectly acceptable, nay honourable.19 Some even went so far as to regard it as a sacred duty passed from father to son and an obligation not to be shirked. We actually have tales of fathers on their death-beds enjoining their offspring to prosecute in turn those who had prosecuted them. 20 By the standards of the day the Luculli were exceptional in but one respect. While it was perfectly legal to prosecute a quaestor while in office it was not a thing usually done. We have here in this last detail, then, a measure of the intensity of the quarrel between the Luculli and the Servilii, and probing further we learn that, though of short duration, it was held to be one of the most bitter in Roman history. Lucullus, in fact, seems to have had a second encounter with Servilius the Augur but under rather different circumstances. The Augur has been identified with that Servilius who, as praetor, attempted to bar Sulla’s way in 88 as he marched on Rome. It is notorious that Lucullus was present in Sulla’s army, being the only officer who did not desert him. One should beware, however, lest one reads too much into this. Some have seen in Servilius a supporter of Marius and of his friends, but this is not necessarily so. With equal plausibility it could be claimed that he subscribed to that substantial body of opinion which, while holding no brief for

8

Lucullus

Mar ius and Sulpicius, was nevertheless outraged at Sulla’s behaviour. Of course, the presence of an old enemy in Sulla’s ranks may have helped to steel his resolve, but we should remember that P.Servilius Vatia Isauricus who also took the family quarrel seriously saw no difficulty in joining Sulla even though Lucullus was still one of his followers. Private quarrels had to be submerged in public. Indeed, it may very well be that it was this latter circumstance that brought about reconciliation. Romans would not easily tolerate private feuds when they threatened the state as a whole, and according to Cicero it was precisely the national interest that led Servilius Vatia and the Luculli to put an end to their differences. At a time when they were both aiding Sulla in his championship of the legitimate power in the state against those held to be usurpers there could be no place for personal quarrels. So, by 83 at the latest, the feud was at an end.21 The financial position of Lucullus and his brother does not seem to have been affected by their f ather’s exile. The foundations of the family fortune had been securely laid by their once-poverty-stricken grandfather and there is no reason to suppose that his equally unscrupulous son did not build upon them so that in turn his sons were left comfortably off upon his departure. We certainly hear of no difficulties when they entered public life.22 However, to keep matters in perspective we should remember at all times that there is no record of lavish expenditure on Lucullus’ part until he became involved in the east. 23 Plainly he was wealthy but not outstandingly so. His brother Marcus was adopted by an otherwise unknown M.Terentius Varro. He thus became M. Terentius Varro Lucullus. Informally, however, he continued in his own time and afterwards to be known as M.Lucullus and we shall continue so to style him. The act certainly offers no clue as to the material condition of the family. Roman fathers did allow their sons to be adopted if they were unable to supply the money to finance their public careers, but this was not the only possible motive. Sometimes a man might be moved to act so in order to prevent a childless friend’s family line from dying out.24 The psychological effects of the father’s departure can only be guessed at. As we shall see, the brothers remained close throughout their lives and it is, therefore, not straining credulity to suggest that this was in part, at least, the result of their being thrown back on their own resources in their mid-teens.25 They

Lucius and the Luculli

9

did not, of course, want for friends and we shall be introducing them at the appropriate points in the narrative. Since most of Lucullus’ life was given to public service they will naturally mostly appear in a political context. Mention may be made here, therefore, of one friend who, throughout his long life, shunned public affairs. I speak of T.Pomponius Atticus who is best known as the friend of Cicero but was also the friend of Lucullus who was for a time the heir presumptive of his uncle Caecilius. 26 Outside Rome the Luculli seem to have enjoyed a measure of influence in the south and in Sicily which may have been a legacy of their father’s activities in those areas. Their influence was certainly able to win the poet Archias the citizenship of Heraclea (Policoro). In Sicily a leading man of Calacte (Caronia Marina) Eupolemus was a client of the Luculli and, as a token of respect, followed his friend in the Third Mithridatic War. We also hear of Lucullus paying a courtesy call to Panormus (Palermo) at one time, which might just be taken as evidence of some kind of Lucullan influence there too.27 There is a certain temptation to suggest that once the elder Lucullus disappeared from the scene the so-called wanton Metella took charge of the household and, turning herself into something along the lines of Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, carefully oversaw the education of her sons. The temptation must be resisted. We already know that Lucullus himself was almost of age when his father was exiled and so he, and not his mother, would be head of the household. Moreover, at this stage the education of the two sons would be well advanced, and it must be remarked it was a good education. Lucullus, it was said, was equally at home in Latin and Greek literature. Sulla himself paid tribute to his Latin style when he asked Lucullus to revise his Memoirs. We shall see that the request was not seriously intended but the fact that Sulla took this way of paying a compliment is obviously not without significance.28 Knowledge of Greek was, of course, widely diffused in Rome at this time and among the upper classes a competence in the language was felt to be desirable.29 In the case of Lucullus, however, we are speaking of more than mere competence. There is told a stor y of a conversation between Lucullus and two of his friends, the orator Hortensius and the historian Sisenna. The trio agreed that, according as lot should prescribe, Lucullus should write a poem or history on the subject of the Social War in either Greek or

10

Lucullus

Latin. In the event the draw dictated he should write a history in Greek. Such, however, was his command of the language that he deliberately introduced some solecisms and barbarisms into his text so that his readers would realize that the work was written by a Roman.30 Later in life Lucullus built a library in his villa at Tusculum (Frascati). It was stocked with volumes from various sources and in particular, according to one account, with some acquired during the Mithridatic War. The building was open to all and scholars thronged the porticoes and reading-rooms where they were often joined by Lucullus himself.31 This, of course, was much later. Now in 102 there arrived in Rome a man whom we have met briefly before: the poet Archias. Lucullus, by this time head of the house, welcomed him.32 Archias was born in Antioch in Syria and was at this time about 16 years of age. He was a kind of touring teenage prodigy who had won considerable fame for himself with recitals at festivals in the Greek world and in the process been awarded the citizenship of Tarentum (Taranto), Rhegium (Reggio Calabria) and Naples. Some poems in the Greek Anthology have been doubtfully attributed to him but his major works have all perished. The loss to literature is not, perhaps, all that great. His speciality seems to have been poems celebrating his patrons and their deeds. He was also renowned for his facility in producing extempore verses on a given theme and then producing alternative versions on the same subject.33 This kind of thing was much in demand in Rome and Archias had no shortage of customers. He remained faithful, however, to his first patrons, the Luculli, even unto old age and when he became a Roman citizen he took the name ‘Licinius’.34 And he accompanied both brothers on their travels. When, at some stage in the 90s, M.Lucullus served on the staff of the governor of Sicily, Archias went with him and it was on their return journey that the pair made the visit to Heraclea that resulted in Archias’ acquiring the citizenship of the place. It was on the basis of this particular citizenship that Archias was able in turn to claim Roman citizenship in 89 under the provisions of the Lex Plautia Papiria.35 Although he passed most of the Social War in Rome, Archias joined Lucullus in the east when he went to serve as Sulla’s quaestor in the First Mithridatic War. He accompanied him again in the Third Mithridatic War. The result of this trip was a poem in honour of Lucullus’ exploits and a reward from the treasury for the bard at the commander’s request.36

Lucius and the Luculli

11

Another Greek intellectual who lived on intimate terms with Lucullus was the philosopher Antiochus of Ascalon.37 After leaving his native place in Palestine this man spent a number of years in Athens and, either during the siege of Athens by Sulla or shortly before, he made the acquaintance of Lucullus whom he accompanied for the rest of the campaign. Evidently he had formed a high opinion of his protector for when Lucullus set out for the Third Mithridatic War Antiochus joined him once more and perished while the hostilities were still in progress.38 Without doubt it was this close association between the two that led Cicero to make Lucullus one of the interlocutors in his dialogue Academica. In Book 2 he is given a speech in which he recounts an attack on Scepticism which he once heard Antiochus make at Alexandria, and it is not an unimpressive performance. Although he is expounding the doctrines of another, Lucullus is, nevertheless, shown to be completely at ease in handling rather difficult material and dealing with what are—to speak frankly— rather abstruse concepts.39 Unfortunately, Cicero had no sooner finished the work than he began to have qualms. He felt that the three interlocutors he had chosen, namely Lucullus, Hortensius and the consular Catulus, were not suitable men to represent and expound these abstract doctrines. In fact they could hardly be called philosophers at all. So he produced a second edition. Instead of two books it was now divided into four and was dedicated to the savant Varro who becomes one of the speakers along with Cicero himself and his friend Atticus. The work as we have it today consists of Book 1 from the second edition and Book 2 from the first.40 On the basis of this piece of editor ializing the most extravagant charges have been levelled at Lucullus. Not only are his philosophical pretensions attacked but doubts are cast upon his intellectual capacities, his sensibilities are held to be blunted and it is denied he has any claim at all to be considered a man of broad general culture. In sum, the picture of the man we are given in Academica 2.1, a picture that clearly influenced Plutarch, is held to be not just exaggerated but patently false.41 Maturer consideration of the whole matter may, perhaps, lead to some slight modification of these views. To begin with, it has to be recognized that Cicero expressed his doubts about Lucullus in private letters and it must be said that in this correspondence he does not always tell the truth. For

12

Lucullus

instance, out of vanity and self-importance he consistently plays down the part that Lucullus played in public affairs during the last years of his life so that his own role may appear the greater.42 And if he is capable of vilipending Lucullus’ role in politics it is not straining credulity to suggest that he would do the same to his reputation as a philosopher. It has, however, to be admitted that Cicero may have had more justification for acting as he did in the latter department than he did in the former. Quite simply, he was better versed in philosophy than Lucullus and his friends and as he looked down on them from his lofty height they may have appeared to him to be smaller than they really were. 43 But what role did philosophy play in the lives of Lucullus and his friends? Probably that it played in the lives of most men of their time and class. In the Rome of their day there was still a certain suspicion of philosophy, and interest was largely centred on its non-technical aspects.44 It was undoubtedly felt too that a Roman should taste of, but not delve too deeply into, such matters. 45 As gentlemen—and Cicero never forgot they were gentlemen46—Lucullus and his friends had certain obligations to meet and being thus men of affairs would most likely have little leisure to spare for literature or philosophy. It is hardly surprising then that in such free moments as they had they sought not arcane dogma but the spiritual nourishment and comfort that some believe philosophy may bring.47 The nature of Lucullus’ relationship with Antiochus now becomes clearer. The Greek did not accompany the commander in order to read him lectures on Scepticism but to act as his spiritual adviser.48 Over a century later the younger Pliny vividly described a similar figure.49 The philosopher Euphrates from Syria with his long hair and beard was undoubtedly a guru but a sanitized guru who was made welcome in the Roman drawingroom. Ethics was a speciality of his. Pliny, for his part, whenever he felt depressed sought him out in order to receive reassurance. A man who holds public office is putting philosophy into practice and indeed has the best part of philosophy, he was told. It is not straining credulity to suggest that Antiochus now and again gave Lucullus similar comfort.50 Now that we have removed one of the grosser fictions from our picture of Lucullus, it remains for us to ask what part, if any, his upbringing and education played in forming or modifying his character. Quite simply, we have to ask the same questions as the

Lucius and the Luculli

13

ancients would have. Philosophy, some believed, could actually improve a man.51 Was this true of Lucullus? Again, the ancients, and after them the humanists, wondered if polite letters would add polish to a man or simply contribute to the enervation of a warlike spirit.52 There is an easy answer to this last: Lucullus’ military career. As regards the degenerate practices of his later years (and they may not be as degenerate as some have thought), they were hardly a delayed reaction to book-learning in youth but rather took their rise from disappointed hopes or, more likely I believe, a sense of realism combined with a strong aesthetic impulse.53 We are told that Aulus Albinus, who was consul with Lucullus’ grandfather in 151, produced a history in Greek and in the preface apologized for his imperfect command of the language. For this he was rebuked by Cato the elder who called him a trifler and asked who had compelled him to write the thing in the first place.54 The contrast with Lucullus and his History need not be laboured. Like many men of his day he had a more perfect command of Greek than previous generations and correspondingly a greater insight into Greek culture.55 Peoples’ reaction to this experience naturally differed but in Lucullus’ case as a result of his reading and personal contact with Greeks a profound philhellenism seems to have been born. When even other Greek lovers such as Cicero could complain occasionally of the Greeks Lucullus never seems to have wavered in his golden opinion of them and often he treated them far better than perhaps they deserved. His sensitive and kindly handling of provincial Greeks must owe something to a nature which was basically decent,56 but it cannot owe all. As we shall see, Lucullus made no effort to understand any other foreign nation and thus his behaviour becomes correspondingly harsher when he comes to deal with them. So we may say that Lucullus’ contact with Greek culture had the effect of refining the manners and outlook of one who was basically of a kindly disposition. It should be observed that this refining of sensibilities went hand in hand with more sophisticated tastes in other areas as well. We may illustrate this point by having recourse once more to an anecdote. We are told that when Lucullus’ father gave a banquet Greek wine was only served once. By the time his son gave a party for the people at his triumph he was able to serve 100,000 jars. What had once been a scarce commodity had become virtually commonplace.57 If

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Lucullus had more developed sensibilities than his ancestors he could also be said to have sought out and enjoyed to a greater degree than they the amenities and adornments of a civilized life. Yet for all of that he was to prove himself not a whit less able than they and, it may be said, to have sur passed their achievements. In sum, the polished manners and refined tastes that he shared with other men of his age did not make Lucullus any the less ready or able for the transaction of those duties that his station in life imposed on him. He was a sophisticated man who lived in a sophisticated age.

II Master and pupil

Late in 91 a goodly portion of Rome’s Italian subjects rose in revolt against her. This uprising came about as a direct result of Rome’s persistent and stubborn refusal to open her citizenship to the peoples of Italy. Equality was what her allies had long sought and seeing that it was not to be had from the Romans they at last deter mined to take it for themselves by declar ing independence. So the rebels created a new federal state of their own which they called ‘Italia’. It hardly needs to be said that the Romans were not prepared to permit such a thing and the two sides were soon locked in a ruinous conflict which we call the Social War.1 It is in this bitter struggle that we first encounter Lucullus in the role of a soldier. However, it is likely that this was not his first taste of the military life since the office he held, that of military tribune, had as a pre-requisite at least five years’ service and we may suspect that, like his brother Marcus, Lucullus had not shirked his duty in the years preceding. 2 In the middle republic the tribunes were the most senior officers in the legion. The office had considerable prestige and was often held by the politically ambitious anxious to further their careers. But from about the time of the Second Punic War the tribunate diminished in importance due largely to the increasing practice of employing legates and from now it was the latter post, rather than the former, which became the prize to be sought after by those who wished to advance themselves in public life.3 Lucullus, however, was to prove to be one of the exceptions to the rule. Like so much else about the Social War details are scarce but the reader may be offered a tentative reconstruction of what happened. Each year the assembly elected tribunes for the four consular legions, 15

16

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and it would appear that, in 89, Lucullus was one of these. As such he served under the consul Cato, but when the latter was killed in battle early in the spring his army was handed over to his legate, Sulla, who was given proconsular powers, and with it went Lucullus. This, of course, was the year in which Sulla won a brilliant reputation by his campaigns against the Hirpini and the Sammites. Sadly, all we hear of Lucullus’ part in these campaigns is that he acquitted himself well but the sequel shows this report to be true. Impressed by Lucullus’ performance, Sulla sought him out and ever after took care to have him on his staff. 4 We learn, however, that it was not just Lucullus’ soldierly abilities that drew Sulla to him. The commander divined in the officer qualities of mildness and constancy. These, in themselves, are not, of course, military virtues but it may be said that they are desirable in a subordinate and we might guess that it was a reliable subordinate that Sulla sought when he first searched Lucullus out. But such qualities are also the hallmarks of a tactful and loyal friend and that was precisely what Lucullus soon became to Sulla. At first sight it must seem a rather odd relationship. On the one hand, we have the fiery patrician then nearing the height of his powers, on the other we have a slightly phlegmatic plebeian who was about twenty years his junior. Yet, however unlikely this friendship appears, it was destined to endure until the day Sulla died. Events soon showed that the latter’s judgement was shrewd and that he had made no mistake. In all the vicissitudes of the coming years Lucullus never once wavered in his loyalty and steadfastness. Even when asked to perform tasks such as the collection of the Asian revenues in 84 which he obviously found distasteful he complied without a murmur. Moreover, given the age difference and the contrasting personalities of the two men, I do not think it far-fetched to suggest there was something of the master and the pupil about their relationship, with the older and stronger leaving his impress on the younger and weaker.5 Sulla had by now reached his political maturity and since Lucullus in his later career shows he held many of the former’s principles it is not, I think, rash to suggest that he had taken them directly from their author, even after due allowance is made for the possibility that two men of optimate outlook would naturally and independently gravitate towards the same political position. Again, in joining Sulla’s staff, Lucullus was attaching himself to the man who, along with Marius, could claim to be the greatest general of the day and

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here once more we may detect that general’s influence on Lucullus. It was, however, exercised in a more subtle fashion than in the political sphere. Lucullus, after observing Sulla in action, seems to have deliberately chosen a style of generalship diametrically opposite to that of his friend. In Sulla’s campaigns we detect a great urgency. He is ever anxious to bring the enemy to battle and when confronted with a fortified town his first instinct is not to lay siege but to attempt to storm it forthwith. In Lucullus’ greatest campaign there is but one major pitched battle and he emerges as a great master both of the war of attrition and of siege craft. Unfortunately for his young friend there was one skill which Sulla was unable to teach Lucullus: the management of men by love rather than fear.6 In the very next year Lucullus was to give a spectacular demonstration of his loyalty. This, of course, was the bustling and troubled year of 88 which some believe marks the final milestone on the road to the destruction of the Roman republic. We shall, however, but lightly sketch the course of events since not only have we treated of them elsewhere but, in a biography, our attention must be focused on our subject, Lucullus. 7 He was elected to the quaestorship which was usually the first office of state held by a man embarking on a political career. His friend Sulla meantime had been elected to the consulship and it was under him that Lucullus was to serve. Normally a quaestor was assigned his province by lot but in exceptional circumstances the senate might allow a commander to pick his own quaestor. This would appear to be one such occasion for it is difficult to believe that one of the heroes of the Social War should be refused anything.8 Certainly, Sulla would want reliable men serving under him for he had been entrusted with a great task: the war with Mithridates, King of Pontus. For nearly two decades Rome had been wrangling with this monarch and now matters had at last come to a head. The king had over-run the Roman province of Asia and even now was advancing into Greece. But before he could move Sulla had become entangled in domestic politics with the result that his enemies Marius and Sulpicius illegally deprived him of his command. Seeing no other way out of the impasse Sulla put himself at the head of his troops and marched on Rome where he made short work of his enemies. But the senators, while holding no brief for Marius and Sulpicius, were outraged by this unprecedented act and their feelings were shared by

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Sulla’s senior officers who belonged to the same stratum of society. To a man they deserted Sulla. Alone among them Lucullus remained loyal and joined the march.9 No doubt this was a tribute to friendship but we might also consider that Lucullus actually accepted Sulla’s view of his enemies as ‘tyrants’. Certainly, in a few years many others came to believe (or professed to believe) that Sulla’s enemies were also the enemies of the state. At any rate, by the spring of 87 the situation in Greece had so far deteriorated that Sulla was obliged to cut loose from his domestic entanglements and go to meet the king’s armies. The advance guard was entrusted to Lucullus. Arriving in Boeotia he discovered another Roman army wintering there. This was commanded by a certain Braetius Sura, legate to the governor of Macedonia. Although his army was but a small one Sura had inflicted a number of reverses on the Pontic forces in the previous year. Coming to Chaeroneia, Lucullus found that one of Sura’s cohorts billeted in the town had provoked a serious incident. The gravity of the matter seems to have made a deep impression on the Chaeroneians who long preserved the details in their folk-memory. Years afterwards they still pointed out the descendents of the principal participant, one Damon, and also the place where he was slain which was said to be haunted by his ghost. This Damon was renowned for his good looks and the commander of the Roman cohort duly fell in love with him. When the Roman could not get what he wanted by blandishments he resolved on the use of force. Damon, foreseeing what was about to happen, gathered together a band of sixteen youths. After a night’s drinking they smeared their faces with soot and killed the Roman and his friends while they were sacrificing at daybreak in the market-place. They then fled the town. The town council, acutely aware of the danger in which they now stood, 10 immediately met and established their good faith by condemning Damon and his followers to death. Their reply was swift and clear. Slipping back into the town by night they murdered the magistrates as they were having dinner in the town hall. Then they bolted once more to live the life of outlaws. It was at this point that Lucullus arrived on the scene. Despite the pressing business on which he was engaged, he took the time to make an investigation and ruled that not only did no blame attach to the town but that it had actually suffered wrong. He then joined the cohort to his own troops and marched away.

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Meeting with Sura, soon after, he told him he must quit Greece. The command of the war against Mithridates had been given to another and it was for him alone to fight it. A few years later, however, the Chaeroneians were to approach Lucullus once more as suppliants. After his departure Damon began to ravage the countryside round about. Eventually he was lured back to the town and made gymnasiarch only to be felled by an unknown hand soon after. There matters rested until some time later the Orchomenians, traditional enemies of Chaeroneia, re-opened them. They hired a Roman to bring a prosecution against the Chaeroneians for the murder of the soldiers. The case was heard by the governor of Macedonia in whose jurisdiction it fell. The Chaeroneians’ advocate invoked the name of Lucullus and the governor duly wrote to him. Lucullus’ reply convinced him of the city’s innocence and the case was dismissed. In gratitude the Chaeroneians erected a marble statue to Lucullus in the market-place. Here then, for the first time, we have an incidence of Lucullus’ fair-minded treatment of Greek provincials even in the most adverse circumstances. It will not be the last and it may rather be said that Chaeroneia was not the only town to express its gratitude to him on this campaign. Hypata in Greece, Synnada in Phrygia, and Thyateira (Ak Hisar) in Lydia all erected statues to Lucullus with inscriptions which variously described him as benefactor, patron and saviour.11 The first objective of the Romans was to wrest Athens and the Piraeus from the control of Mithr idates’ general, Archelaus. Macedonia was still in Roman hands and a small detachment was sufficient to guard Chalcis so Sulla was able to concentrate his energies on his main target. However, the Social War had drained Rome’s coffers with the result that the money at the proconsul’s disposal was inadequate for the job on hand. So he levied contributions on the cities of Greece and borrowed their temple treasures. What was thus gathered was turned over to Lucullus who spent part of the winter of 87/6 in the Peloponnese turning it into coin.12 Sulla, however, was soon to find him something more exciting to do. Shortage of funds was not the only problem faced by the proconsul in that winter. As the Romans possessed no ships the Pontic fleet had total mastery of the seas and was thus able to br ing supplies and reinforcements with impunity into the Piraeus. In an effort to close this loophole Sulla applied to

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Rhodes which among Rome’s allies had by far the best fleet. He soon learned, though, that no help would be forthcoming from that quarter. In the previous year, it is true, the Rhodians had beaten off Mithridates’ assault on their island home but their fleet was simply not strong enough to challenge the Pontic navy on the open sea and hence they would not venture far from home. This, in effect, left Egypt as the only other place which might be both friendly to Rome and capable at the same time of giving aid. So Sulla plucked Lucullus from his financial duties, put his brother Marcus in his place and despatched him to gather a fleet. He was to proceed to Alexandria, collect vessels there and in Syria and then, having added the Rhodian fleet to his numbers, return forthwith to Greece. Although it was the winter season when fear of stor ms made ancient mar iners reluctant to stir abroad the urgency of Lucullus’ mission meant he must go at once. Yet for all its urgency—and this is a slightly sur real touch—a place was found in the expedition’s tiny squadron of six ships for Lucullus’ philosopher friend, Antiochus. Plainly Lucullus did not wish to be deprived of the comfort philosophy may bring and Antiochus was willing to supply it. Whatever view we may take of Lucullus’ philosophical attainments we can hardly deny that Antiochus’ readiness to accompany him on a hazardous mission is a tribute to the affection and loyalty he could command. More than storms was to be faced. Those who held the sea in their grip would plainly do their utmost to see that Lucullus did not loosen that grip. Hence he was obliged to make a scuttling crab-like progress across the Mediterranean, changing ships from time to time in order to throw his pursuers off the scent. 13 His first landfall was Crete, an island long notorious as a haven for the pirates who, in those days, were such a terror to the peoples of the Mediterranean basin. By Lucullus’ time, however, much of this lucrative business of pillaging had been wrested from the Cretans and was now in the hands of the Cilicians. The latter, with an eye to the main chance, had thrown in their lot with Mithridates and formed a considerable portion of his fleet. Doubtless it was this circumstance which led the islanders to give Lucullus a fairly sympathetic hearing. He was unable to extract any actual aid from them but they did promise not to take sides in the struggle between Rome and Pontus.14 With that Lucullus had to be content and so he headed for his next port of call,

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Cyrene (roughly the coastal region of modern Libya between Banghazi and Darnah). In this place Lucullus found another opportunity to indulge his zeal for improving the lot of those Greeks who fell under the shadow of Rome. Ten years before the last king of the region, Ptolemy Apion, had died and in his will had bequeathed it to Rome. The senate, however, decreed that the five Greek cities there should be free and thus they were left to their own devices.15 As might be expected, the inhabitants were incapable of taking advantage of their good fortune and like many Greeks before them, fell into stasis. In addition, they were not immune from the pirate scourge which, as we have noted above, plagued the civilized world in those days. The upshot was that tyrants established themselves as a result of the strife and confusion. The Cyrenaeans were thus in a sorry plight when Lucullus arrived and they begged him to act as a lawgiver. Reminding them of what Plato had once said when they had implored him to play the same role, namely, that it was hard to be a lawgiver for the Cyrenaeans when things were going well with them, he nevertheless consented and established a new constitution for them. The absence of any information on the contents of this constitution have led modern scholars to make a number of guesses of varying quality. Some believe that Antiochus played the part of a cultural middleman between his friend and his fellow Greeks but we may counter this by suggesting that Lucullus’ deep understanding of things Greek might render this service unnecessary. Others would go further and claim Antiochus as the author or co-author of the constitution and this has a certain plausibility if we accept the view that the philosopher interested himself in matters political. An oligarchic complexion is claimed for the constitution because Lucullus quoted that arch-oligarch Plato before getting down to work. A better argument for this view might be that the political opinions that Lucullus shared with Sulla would almost inevitably lead him to devise a constitution of such a type. 16 But whatever it was Lucullus handed down for the Cyrenaeans it was not destined to last for, in 75, the Romans belatedly entered on their inheritance and annexed the place.17 All of this must have taken time and so we are entitled to ask why Lucullus chose to indulge his altruistic tendencies at a time when Sulla’s per ilous plight would seem to have made it imperative he be about his proper business. This is particularly pertinent because the Cyrenaeans do not appear to have been in

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a position to offer him any worthwhile assistance.18 The most likely explanation is that his sojourn here was an enforced one. He did not come seeking ships but a convenient bolt-hole on the road to Alexandria. Once having been safely ensconced in that hole, he discovered that the operations of the Pontic navy rendered it perilous to venture forth again and so he determined to employ his enforced leisure usefully. What happened next is in harmony with this reading of the situation. When Lucullus did eventually take to the sea once more he was attacked by the pirates and lost most of his ships, although he himself escaped safely to Egypt.19 It was probably about the beginning of summer when Lucullus came to Alexandria to be met with what was literally a royal welcome. The Egyptian fleet went forth to meet him decked in the livery normally reserved for the arrival of a king. He is unlikely, however, to have been in ignorance of what lay behind this pompous display. The position of the king Ptolemy Soter II was a very delicate one indeed. He had come to the throne for the second time in 88 after chasing out his rival, Ptolemy Alexander I. The latter had died soon after during an attempt to regain his throne but not before leaving something for his rival to worry over in the form of a will bequeathing Egypt to Rome. To complicate matters further this man’s son (the future Ptolemy Alexander II) was at this moment in the hands of Mithridates. Self-evidently both sides had a handle ready for use against the king should he make the wrong move. At the moment, it was true, the Romans did not seem to be in any state to claim their inheritance. Sulla was totally engaged in Greece, and at Rome itself a civil war had just ended which had resulted in the installation of a regime bitterly hostile to him. To give aid to Sulla then would be tantamount to an invitation to a victorious Mithridates to install the ‘rightful heir’ in Egypt. But were Sulla to win, against all the seeming odds, then there might be no safety there either, for it was not inconceivable that his enemies at Rome would crush him and all who aided him. Rome would take revenge by entering upon its inheritance. And were one to give active aid to Mithridates and should he lose, then there opened up the dreadful possibility that both Roman factions might visit their wrath upon the hapless Ptolemy. The permutations were virtually endless but for the king they spelt out one message: shun all entanglements as the very plague. So he

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would avoid giving offence in so far as was possible, treat Lucullus with every courtesy and respect and give him nothing. Thus when Lucullus stepped ashore he found he was to be the first foreign commander ever lodged in the royal palace. He later discovered the allowance for his subsistence was to be four times the norm. As befitted a man on an important mission for his chief who was at that very moment fighting for his life, Lucullus did his best to avoid being smothered by this lavishness. He would only accept such expenses as were strictly necessary and refused all gifts, although 80 talents’ worth was offered. He also ostentatiously avoided the normal Roman practice of making the grand tour to Memphis and other sites, judging it to be inappropriate on the present occasion. What such a tour would have involved is shown in the record of a visit some thirty years before by a certain L.Memmius. Then there was a great flurry of activity as the royal officials busied themselves with elaborate preparations for guest houses, landing places and even the feeding of the royal crocodiles. Lucullus would have none of this and instead remained at Alexandria working on Ptolemy and, in his free moments, conversing with Antiochus and other philosophers. At length he realized that Soter would not budge and he decided to resume his travels. The king, still anxious to please as long as he did not have to commit himself, gave his guest a naval escort as far as Cyprus. In addition, he presented the Roman with an emerald set in gold. At first, Lucullus was minded to refuse this bauble as he had all other gifts. But when Ptolemy showed him that it had on it an engraved image of himself he realized a continued refusal would hurt his host’s feelings and so he accepted. He knew full well the murderous propensities of the Egyptian royal house and feared that an insult might lead to his meeting with an ‘accident’ on the coming voyage.20 Only now, with the year well advanced, did Lucullus begin to meet with success.21 As he headed for Cyprus he was able to gather ships from the towns of the Syrian coast. However, upon nearing his destination he discovered that the pirates were once more waiting for him. Across the channel lay their base, Cilicia. They had, by means of fortification, strengthened the already rugged coastline to the east and west of the Calycadnos (Göksu) river. From these vantage-points they were able to watch for and pounce upon the traffic from the Levant which must needs travel through the waters which lay between them and Cyprus.

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But this time they met their match. Lucullus, divining what was afoot, immediately beached his ships and sent letters to the cities of the island asking them to make winter quarters and provisions available to him. They were willing to do this and somewhat surprisingly, perhaps, in view of this fact that the island formed part of Ptolemy’s dominions, they also gave him ships. But the preparations for wintering were simply a ploy to fool the enemy. When he obtained a favourable wind Lucullus put to sea once more and sailed safely to Rhodes. There, as his fleet was now large enough, he was able to break the Pontic blockade of the island. By this time too he will have learned of the great change in the affairs of Greece. Not only had Athens fallen, but Sulla had utterly destroyed Mithridates’ forces in two great battles. There was now no need for desperate haste. A second winter’s storms need not be braved and so Lucullus took up his winter quarters here.22 With a Rhodian squadron added to his numbers, Lucullus judged, in the spring of 85, that his fleet was now sufficiently large to allow him to rejoin Sulla. But he also determined that on the way he would do Mithridates a damage. His first landfall was at Cnidus (Tekir) in Caria and there he induced the inhabitants to abandon the king and join him. Continuing on his journey northwards he next put into Cos. This place had willingly gone over to Mithridates when he first invaded Asia but had saved its Roman residents from the massacre that followed. Now it gladly imitated the example of Cnidus. With these new allies Lucullus next made an assault on Samos, only to meet with a reverse. Although the island had, before the war, enjoyed the status of a friend and ally of Rome the inhabitants at this point seem to have chosen to support the royal garrison and Lucullus was beaten off. After this the Cnidians and the Coans went home but Sulla characteristically remembered the services of the latter at least when he gave them their freedom the following year.23 Despite this diminishing of his forces Lucullus pressed on to achieve further successes. When, in the previous year, it became plain that the war in Greece was turning against Mithridates a number of Asiatic cities had revolted from him. Colophon (Degirmendere) was one of these and for its pains had a tyrant called Epigonus set over it. Lucullus now arrived and put this man under ar rest—no doubt with a view to having him

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eventually displayed at Sulla’s triumph.24 The island of Chios was his next target. In the original invasion of Mithridates it had taken the king’s side but there seems always to have been a strong pro-Roman party there and as a result when the unrest we have just mentioned manifested itself the place fell under suspicion. Mithr idates vented his spleen to the full by transplanting part of the population to the Euxine and placing a garrison to watch the rest. This garrison was expelled by Lucullus and, in the following year, Chios had its freedom restored.25 Up until this point Lucullus’ achievements, though solid enough in themselves, could hardly be described as spectacular or dazzling. Certainly he had done nothing to rival the great victories by which his friend Sulla had gained mastery in Greece. In truth his main contribution to the war effort had been to add to the already considerable discomfort Mithr idates was experiencing at the hands of a rival Roman army. When Sulla’s enemies installed themselves in power they lost no time in sending out a force of their own to attack the king in Asia. Led by a blood-thirsty but able commander, Fimbria, this army had inflicted a series of reverses on the king. There is a certain irony then in the fact that it was this very army that presented Lucullus with the opportunity to cover himself in glory for the first time in his career. Fimbria had penned up Mithridates in Pitane (Çandarli) but was unable to draw the noose fully about his victim as he possessed no ships. He therefore applied to Lucullus, intimating that he should forget about Sulla and join his own operations. If the king were to fall into their hands then the great battles of Chaeroneia and Orchomenus in which Sulla had smashed the monarch’s power in Greece would appear as nothing beside such an exploit. Lucullus, however, would not yield to temptation and flatly refused to have anything to do with Fimbr ia. As a result Mithridates was able to get away to Mytilene in Lesbos. Lucullus has sometimes been castigated for this since it would seem that had he joined Fimbria there was a good chance that between them the pair might have brought the career of one of Rome’s most redoubtable foes to an abrupt end.26 However, in at least one respect, Lucullus’ decision, it seems to me, does him great personal credit. He had justified Sulla’s faith in his steadfastness and loyalty. He was simply not prepared to upstage someone who was both his commander and his friend by making common

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cause with a deadly enemy. Indeed, this conspicuous loyalty must have led him to regard Fimbr ia with, at the ver y least, considerable distaste since the latter had reached his present position by murdering his own commander. But, over and above such personal considerations, there is a wider issue in question here. Sulla’s march on Rome in 88 had divided the Roman world. Some agreed with the consul that he had acted perfectly correctly in putting down tyrants; others held that he had acted unlawfully and should be tried for what he did. And when Sulla’s opponents, with Cinna at their head, came to power they soon showed what they thought by declaring him a public enemy. Sulla, for his part, ignored the decree and continued to act as a proconsul. Because of the Mithridatic War the issue lay in abeyance but now, with the king on the verge of defeat, both sides began to think about renewing the contest. Was it Sulla or was it the Cinnans who represented legitimate authority in the state? Was the hostis decree to be rescinded or not? When no satisfactory answer to this question could be found by peaceful means both sides ultimately went to war over the issue. In Lucullus’ refusal to aid Fimbria we can see the battlelines already being drawn and we have here a foreshadowing of the struggle to come. If we accept, as indeed we must, that Lucullus was one of those convinced of the legitimacy of Sulla’s position then his actions are, in themselves, perfectly logical. He would quite simply regard Fimbria as a servant of an unlawful regime who had no proper authorization for what he did. Such a person must be shunned since he was little better than an outlaw or a renegade.27 For the rest of the journey Lucullus’ appetite for attacking the king showed no sign of diminishing. He met with and defeated part of Mithridates’ fleet off the promontory of Lectum (Baba) in the Troad. Proceeding on his way, he discovered that a still larger royal fleet under the command of Neoptolemus was lying in wait for him off Tenedos (Bozcaada). Immediately Lucullus sailed ahead of the rest of his ships in a galley commanded by an experienced Rhodian admiral called Damagoras who had given a good account of himself during Mithridates’ siege of his native island. Neoptolemus dashed out to ram his reckless opponent in a ship which was heavily plated with bronze ar mour. Damagoras, realizing that a head-on encounter would be fatal, instantly turned around and backed water with the result that Neoptolemus struck

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him only a harmless blow astern. At this point the rest of Lucullus’ fleet caught up with their chief and he, turning his ship about once more, led it against the enemy. The upshot was that the Mithridatic forces were routed and Neoptolemus fled with Lucullus in hot pursuit.28 About eighteen months had elapsed since Sulla sent Lucullus on his mission and he had begun to show every sign of despairing of seeing his subordinate again. In the previous year he had even started to build a fleet of his own at Chalcis. But now, at last, Lucullus rejoined his commander and found him in the Chersonesus (Gallipoli) preparing to cross over to Asia. As we know, the course of events had long since rendered obsolete the original objective of Lucullus’ mission. And by this time they had moved even further. Mithridates had yielded and agreed to terms which were to be ratified at a personal meeting between himself and Sulla at Dardanus (Mal Tepe, Sehitlik Batarya) in the Troad. So all that was left for Lucullus to do, after his long and perilous adventure, was to secure Abydos (Nara), Sulla’s entry-point into Asia, and ferry his troops across the Dardanelles.29 He was, however, to play an important role in Sulla’s settlement of Asia. Once the proconsul had had his interview with Mithridates he made short work of Fimbria and then set about the congenial task of rewarding Asian friends, punishing Asian enemies and generally making provision for the better ordering of the province. Those who went scatheless need not concern us here. Our attention must be focused on those who paid the price for siding with Mithridates. In essence Sulla divided the guilty into two groups. Those who had massacred their Roman inhabitants were deprived of their freedom, some of them lost part of their territory and all were made liable for five years’ back taxes. Lesser offenders, who had not actually committed murder but whose support for their Roman allies was judged to have been, at best, lukewarm were forced to contribute to a war indemnity which was also levied on the greater culprits. As Sulla was desperately short of funds and already facing the possibility of a war with the Cinnan regime he proceeded with utter ruthlessness and, in a single winter, collected all the back taxes. 30 But ruthlessness has its limits and, by the spring of 84, when Sulla was ready to return to Greece the indemnity had not yet been paid. He realized then he would have to leave behind in the

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province someone to attend to this. That someone would need to combine absolute loyalty to himself with honesty and financial acumen. Lucullus was the obvious choice, having given signal proof of his fitness in all spheres. So it was decided that Lucullus should join the staff of Licinius Murena as pro-quaestor; Murena, who was already governor of Cilicia, was now made governor of Asia as well. His pro-quaestor, L.Manlius Torquatus, then took Lucullus’ place on Sulla’s staff.31 Murena’s activities as governor assured Lucullus of a free hand and left him in virtual control of the province. In 84 Murena was busy in Cilicia making war on the pirates. The problem they posed was a long-standing one but there was now a punitive intent on the part of the Romans. They would naturally wish to settle scores with people who had made up a large part of Mithridates’ fleet in the late war. However, Murena soon allowed himself to be lured away from this task by fairer prospects. Hungry after military glory and a cheap triumph, he picked a fresh quarrel with Mithridates and for the next two and a half years (83–81) was embroiled in warfare with the king.32 In truth the task that faced Lucullus seemed to be thankless. Yet he emerged not only with his reputation intact but actually enhanced. The financial burdens Sulla laid on the Asiatic cities, coming hard upon the depredations of Mithridates, reduced many of them to beggary. In order to meet his exactions they had had to borrow money at exorbitant rates of interest. Theatres, gymnasia, harbours, in short every available piece of public property, had to be mortgaged to raise the necessary cash. We may be sure this situation caused Lucullus considerable distress. His views on how provincials should be treated are by now well known to us, and some ten years later when he returned to the province as governor and found the problem persisting he took effective measures to bring it to an end. But plainly there was nothing very substantial he could effect now and loyalty to Sulla must be paramount. Yet Lucullus did what he could and we are told he won golden opinions for the fairness and mildness with which he carried out his distasteful task. This, of course, could mean any number of things. For one, it appears to refer to his willingness to receive deputations to see what might be done to alleviate their plight. For another it could mean that he always treated the provincials with courtesy and good manners. And, I would suspect, it meant too that Lucullus extracted no more than was strictly owed. Not for him the extortion of the provincials

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practised by so many Roman officials. And if he himself did not steal we may be sure he saw to it that his assistants did not either. Those statues erected in Thyateira and Synnada would seem to be the expression of genuine gratitude.33 Another Greek city was to have less pleasant memories of Lucullus, largely through its own fault. Of all the towns which had taken Mithridates’ part, Mytilene alone held out when Sulla retook Asia. Having surrendered the Roman legate M’. Aquillius to the enemy they knew they could expect no mercy from the vengeful Sulla.34 It was probably not until the spring of 82 that Lucullus finished collecting his monies and Mytilene was still in rebellion. Being of a less choleric disposition than his friend, Lucullus seems to have tried to reason with the Mytileneans and offered them, so we learn, relatively easy terms. What exactly these were we are not told but it is difficult to believe Mytilene could escape the financial penalties, the trials of ringleaders or the loss of freedom which other like culprits had suffered. On the other hand, since they were sur render ing on ter ms, the Mytileneans might have avoided the plundering, the demolition of city walls, the loss of territory and the selling into slavery which so many other places had undergone. But whatever it was that was on offer, it failed to impress the townsfolk and Lucullus was obliged to proceed against them with his forces. They, in a show of defiance, met him in open battle and were duly worsted. The Romans then put the town under siege. However, when his enemies showed no sign whatsoever of yielding Lucullus decided to employ a r use. In broad daylight he sailed to Elaea (Kazikbaglari) which lies on a gulf off the mainland a little to the south of Mytilene. From here he slipped back again and waited in ambush near the city. One would have imagined that, as Asiatic Greeks, the Mytileneans would have bethought themselves of what had previously happened in the neighbourhood on a famous occasion when a besieging army appeared to withdraw leaving a gift in its wake. But apparently not, for they took the bait that was offered them. Baying for the loot which the abandoned Roman camp seemed to offer they sallied forth in a disorderly mob, only to have Lucullus fall upon them. He captured a great number and killed five hundred who had sufficiently collected their wits to make a resistance.35 There can be little doubt that this was a heavy blow to Mytilene but the city was still not disposed to give in and soon

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afterwards events elsewhere ensured it would have a respite. Murena’s campaign against Mithridates had not, to say the least of it, gone well and before he could repair the damage an envoy arrived from Sulla, about the middle of 81, bidding him desist from attacking one who was about to become an ally of Rome. Murena had no option but to comply. Early in the next year Murena’s successor, C.Claudius Nero, arrived in the province and so he was forced to withdraw. With him went Lucullus. Not only had he completed the most important task he had been set but he had also served for longer than a quaestor usually did. But, although he had captured 6,000 slaves and a great deal of other booty from Mytilene the town remained unsubdued in his wake. Nero did nothing worth while and it was not until 79 that his replacement M.Minucius Ther mus captured the place in a storming in which the young Julius Caesar distinguished himself.36 But by then Lucullus had taken his place in Sulla’s Rome.

III The politic man

Lucullus’ return to Rome in 80 can be said to mark his real entry into political life. Strictly speaking, of course, his public career had begun with his quaestorship, the first office held by a man intent on pursuing the cursus honorum, but it is fair to say that in this position he was given little chance to display whatever political talents he might possess. When not about the business of soldiering or administering, his role was simply that of a loyal supporter of Sulla’s policies. So, it is only now, with his aedileship (79), that we can begin to speak of him as a political figure. But when we do speak of the political career of Lucullus or indeed of any Roman noble there are three considerations which we should always bear in mind. To begin with, we must remember the ideals people such as he had before them. It was generally accepted that a noble like Lucullus should devote himself to the service of the state. Since he was of independent means he did not have to labour and it was expected that he should employ the freedom he thus enjoyed in public business. If he acquitted himself well in office self-evidently he would have served the state well but it would also be acknowledged that he had brought honour and distinction to himself. And not just to himself but to his family. Ever before his eyes the noble would have the achievements of his ancestors and his goal would be to have men say he had equalled or surpassed them.1 Idealism was not enough however. The noble recognized full well that public life had its less exalted side.2 Achieving office involved struggle and competition with one’s peers who sought the same goal. Rome was a fiercely competitive society and any man who wished to make his way in public life there had, in 32

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essence, to do two things. He had, first of all, to make himself pleasing to the sovereign people, for they were the ones who would elect him to office and pass any laws he cared to bring forward. Second, a man had to cultivate his fellow nobles. Political friendships would have to be formed with those who possessed power and influence and were prepared to use them on his behalf. In other words, the Roman noble soon discovered that everyday politics had its own mechanical processes and, if he wished to succeed, he had better learn how to apply those processes. Like any politician anywhere, he recognized where the sources of power lay and shaped his behaviour on that recognition. 3 Finally, we have to remember that a Roman politician could be confronted with issues on which opinion divided. Then the noble would, no doubt, be swayed by diverse considerations: the urging of his political friends, the possible consequences of his decision for his own career and, we may say, the intrinsic merits of the question being debated. The validity of this thesis has sometimes been questioned but it will readily admit of proof. For instance, when, in 91, the younger Drusus announced his legislative programme a clear majority of the senate supported it because they believed it would be beneficial to the house. But support was not unanimous, for there were those who opposed the tribune from the start. In some cases this opposition was based on the belief that the proposed laws held real political dangers; in others it sprang from personal enmity. Eventually, in an atmosphere of increasing rancour and bitterness, these men were able to persuade a majority of the senate to their way of thinking and Drusus’ laws were abrogated. It could, of course, be argued that this instance was exceptional but, in fact, we do have abundant evidence of cases where less dangerous issues such as the allocation of provinces or the granting of triumphs gave rise to sharp differences of opinion.4 These, then, are the considerations we should bear in mind when we come to examine Lucullus’ political career. I shall not be referring explicitly to them again for I would hope that the narrative itself would make it tolerably clear how they manifested themselves in his particular case. In antiquity it was claimed Lucullus was a very lucky man since he was away in Asia while Sulla was carrying out his proscriptions. He was, therefore, spared the agony of choosing

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between his own instincts which would be on the side of clemency and obeying the commands of Sulla whom he revered. Thus, not being called upon to join in the man-hunts, he avoided besmirching his reputation.5 However, the advantage thus gained added more to his posthumous fame than to his contemporary standing. If modern historians have not levelled the charge of savagery at him, it has at the same time to be said that a name for bloodthirstiness would have done him no harm at all in the Rome of his own day. Crassus, for instance, won evil repute and even fell under Sulla’s displeasure because of his activities at this time, yet went on to become one of the leading figures of the next couple of decades, and who will forget that Pompey who was branded as an adulescentulus camifex (youthful butcher) because of his zeal in hounding Sulla’s enemies was also hailed as ‘Magnus’? To be labelled a Sullan, whether zealous or not, was no disadvantage in the Rome the dictator had created.6 In truth, we may suspect that Sulla’s friendship will have proved extremely valuable to Lucullus. His candidature for the aedileship of 79 was, in fact, made in absentia. He was either still in Asia or on his way home with Murena when the elections of the year 80 took place. Under these circumstances he must have relied not only upon his brother Marcus who was also seeking the same office but also upon friends to canvass for him. I think it not unlikely that Sulla was among those friends and that his presence will not have gone unnoticed by the voters. Admittedly this much is hypothesis, but one other circumstance which aided Lucullus is well documented. On age grounds alone, Lucullus could have been an aedile possibly in 81 and certainly in 80. Moreover, there were no real problems about his leaving Asia even as early as 82. His main work there was done and he could reasonably claim he had been a pro-quaestor for far longer than was usual. But instead of making an early bid he elected to postpone his candidature until his brother came of age so that they might both hold office together. This gesture, we are told, was pleasing to the people and both brothers were elected aediles for 79.7 The minor magistracy of the aedileship had charge of the maintenance and improvement of roads, br idges and public buildings. Aediles were also required to regulate the markets and superintend both houses and taverns. They had a tribunal of their own to deal with those who transgressed their ordinances. No

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doubt it would be noted in the appropriate quarters how well or badly a man carried out these tasks. But it was not really their essential but unexciting duties that drew attention to these magistrates. Rather, it was a further obligation they had to fulfil: that of giving games. In April there were seven days of these in honour of Cybele, known as the Ludi Megalenses. September saw games in honour of Jupiter which lasted for fifteen days. These consisted of three elements: chariot races (circenses), animal hunts (venationes) and theatrical performances (scaenici). The proper mounting of these games was of considerable importance for it was by means of them that an aspiring young politician showed his respect for the Roman populace. The people expected that any man who was contemplating suing for higher office should provide them with a suitably splendid entertainment. If he wished to be taken seriously later on then he had better take them seriously now. Stinginess at this stage would be remembered. It is true that some who did reach high office could boast that they had made only a modest outlay during their aedileship or had not bothered to seek that office at all. But these were dangerous precedents to adopt as a pattern and men like Mamercus Livianus served as an awful warning of what might happen if one did follow them. He refused to stand for the aedileship although he was known to be a rich man and he paid for his contumely when he forfeited the consulship. Thus, the received wisdom was: court the people during one’s aedileship. Public monies were provided to stage the games but, when empire brought wealth to Rome, many men supplemented these from their own resources. They were thus enabled to mount lavish shows which, they hoped, would give them an advantage over others who would be seeking the same higher office. This practice plainly carried danger with it. As is well known, Caesar had to borrow extensively in order to make a display and so fell into debt. But, dangerous or not, aediles strove to eclipse contemporary rivals by surpassing the achievements of those who previously held their office. The ancients have preserved for us lists of men who were long remembered for the lavishness of their spectacles or the novelties they introduced to stimulate the jaded palates of their audience.8 The Luculli brothers were certainly not the ones to go contrary to the spirit of the age or to take any chances when dealing with the people. Although it cannot be proved, it is like

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enough that the already-large family coffers were swollen by a share of the booty from the war with Mithridates. At any rate they spared no expense in seeing to it that the people of Rome had something memorable set before them. Twenty years before, elephants had made their first appearance in the Roman arena, and now a new refinement was introduced when they were pitted in combat against bulls. The stage, too, witnessed innovation. A machine was provided that was capable of making the scenery revolve. These novelties were sufficient to ensure the pair a place in that roll-call of individuals whose aedileships had been particularly memorable. 9 More immediately the people showed their goodwill by electing Lucullus praetor for the very next year. This was a signal mark of affection and respect because under the Lex Cornelia annalis of Sulla a biennium (period of two years) was required to elapse between the holding of curule offices.10 In fact we are told that a special law had been passed, the effect of which was to allow Lucullus to proceed in this fashion. But what law was this? Some think that Sulla was the author of a measure designed to benefit his officers. As their careers had been seriously retarded because of their years of service to him in the late wars it would be but natural justice that when they resumed them they should be allowed to make up for the time they had lost as a result of their loyalty. So they would, under the terms of the postulated law, be allowed to disregard the biennium which should exist between offices. To this it has been objected that of the Sullani Lucullus is the only man who seems to have been able to act in this fashion. So some believe there was no general law at all but one that benefited him and him alone.11 There is, however, yet another possibility which need not necessarily invoke the hand of Sulla. We saw earlier that the people were very taken with the fact that Lucullus had deliberately delayed his own career in order that he might be an aedile along with his brother. We may further postulate that the games the brothers had given would have put them in a mellow and accommodating mood. In this frame of mind they might very well then be amenable to a suggestion (coming we know not from whom) that this splendid aedile should not have to suffer for an act of generosity on which they themselves had set the seal of approval. So they were induced to pass a law which would allow him to become praetor in the very year he would have

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expected to have done had he held the aedileship at the date he was first entitled to do so.12 Early in the year of his praetorship (78) Lucullus lost his friend and patron when Sulla died in his villa at Puteoli (Pozzuoli). After his will was opened it was found to contain a last expression of his friendship for Lucullus. The latter was named as the guardian of his young children, Faustus and Fausta. At the time of his death Sulla had been working on his Memoirs and these he dedicated to Lucullus with the remark that his young friend would be better able than himself to give them an aesthetically satisfying form. Yoked to this pleasing compliment was a typically Sullan piece of advice: above all else put your faith in the messages the gods send in dreams. At the appropriate point in our narrative we shall see what Lucullus made of this counsel. As regards the editorial injunction he seems to have interpreted it in the way he was most probably meant to: not as a sacred duty laid on him by a dying man but simply as an elegant salute to himself. Sulla, in making his request, was likely to have been no more sincere than Caesar was later when he said his Commentaries were not history but the raw material for history and Lucullus was no doubt perfectly aware of this. Thus we learn that the last book of the Memoirs left unfinished at Sulla’s death was completed by his freedman Epicadus but we hear nothing about Lucullus meddling with what Sulla himself had written. However, if Sulla’s will is of considerable interest for what it contains it is of equal interest for what it does not contain: the name of Pompey. The Romans expected a man to make honourable mention by name of all those whom he regarded as his friends in his last testament. Consequently, those who had thought themselves to be numbered among a man’s friends and now, at this late date, found they had been mistaken were not just hurt but regarded the omission as an insult. Given Sulla’s character there can be no doubt that the intention was to wound since, significantly, every other prominent Sullan received his due mention. On two occasions in the years 81–79 Pompey had caused Sulla some considerable political embarrassment and he did not forget it. It may also be that this was a final attempt from beyond the grave to tame the monster he himself had helped to create.13 In thus passing over Pompey and conferring great honour on Lucullus, Sulla—consciously or otherwise, we cannot say—along

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with his tangible bequests had left a legacy to Rome itself: enmity between the two men. From the very moment their careers began to coincide there must have existed a spirit of rivalry between Pompey and Lucullus even though one was active in Italy and Africa while the other was engaged in Asia. Both were young, able and ambitious and seeking the favour of the man to whom they had attached themselves. To Sulla they looked for important commissions and help in advancing their careers. They were vying with each other in the race for advancement. However, from this point onward we are speaking of something more than mere competitiveness. Given the heterogeneous nature of the coalition which Sulla led to power it is hardly surprising to discover that there was a corresponding diversity of opinion among those who now made up the ruling oligarchy of Rome. Leaving aside those disaffected or about to be disaffected, we find, at one extreme, men like Lucullus who were passionate partisans of the dictator, at the other, the likes of Pompey, who, despite quarrelling with Sulla, were prepared to work his system for his own advantage. Yet, whatever shades of opinion we may detect now or later, we may, with confidence, style the republic ‘Sullan’ and the men who ruled it ‘Sullani’ for two simple reasons. Those now in charge were where they were because Sulla had put them there in the first place, and recognizing this they were, for a time at least, content to live by the laws he had given them. It therefore follows that when Sulla made his final statement to the world, to receive an honourable mention in it could not but be of advantage to anybody who, for whatever reason, styled himself Sullan in Sullan Rome. In this instance, Sulla’s irrevocable pronouncement was clear and unequivocal. By loading Lucullus with signal marks of honour he declared him to be the first among his friends while, at the same time, dismissing Pompey entirely from their number. Thus we need not wonder that the latter from this time on saw Lucullus as more than a competitor for honour and began to harbour feelings of jealousy and dislike for the rival who had thus surpassed him even though, on this occasion, he was able to redeem the situation.14 The opportunity to repair the damage done presented itself immediately and Pompey was astute enough to seize it. One of the consuls for the year was a certain M.Aemilius Lepidus, a renegade Marian who had made his peace with Sulla. He, in fact,

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owed his elevation, in a large measure, to the support of Pompey in one of the politically embarrassing acts that had so infuriated Sulla. By this time (early 78) he seems to have already laid plans to overthrow the Sullan constitution. As a kind of prelude to the great work, he set his face against granting the dictator a public funeral. Pompey, for his part, seeing the drift of his policies, appears to have concluded there was nothing to be gained from further support of Lepidus and that an instant sundering had much to commend it. So, blithely ignoring Sulla’s insult, he boldly stepped forward to play the part of the good Sullan and declared his support for the other consul Catulus who, as an ardent Sullan, was determined his old chief should be buried with full honours. Together the two of them smothered Lepidus’ call and ensured that the funeral was carried out in due and proper form. We may suspect that as he watched the funeral pyre burn Pompey permitted himself a self-congratulatory smirk. The alleged pariah had shown himself to be one of Sulla’s greatest friends. It has been suggested that one of the reasons Pompey had supported Lepidus in the first place was the expectation he would eventually do something outrageous from which Pompey himself might at some stage reap some benefit. Whether or not this cynical calculation was made this was actually how things fell out. Despite several attempts to placate him, Lepidus eventually broke out into open rebellion and early in 77 the senatus consultum ultimum was passed against him. As Catulus, by now proconsul, was no soldier Pompey was appointed to assist him. Between the two of them they put down the revolt. And almost at once another and greater prize fell into Pompey’s hands: command in a sphere where it would be possible to win great renown by defeating an opponent of note. Refusing to disband his army, Pompey awaited the results of the senate’s deliberations about Spain. There war was being waged against Sertorius, one of the last and ablest of the Cinnans, and it was a war which was going none too well. Indeed, the government’s general there, Metellus Pius, had urgently asked for help. In the event neither the consuls nor anybody else could be found to go and so Pompey was picked and had conferred on him the title pro consule.15 Pompey therefore was one of the leading young men—the leading young man, rather—of the early 70s. Living up to the promise he had shown under Sulla he had, without ever holding office, won for himself a position of considerable influence and

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one from which he could gain yet more. In short, he was a figure of prominence and as such had totally outstripped Lucullus in the race for honour and renown. While the pages of the history books are filled with the exploits of Pompey first at home then in Spain, Lucullus’ career, despite the early benediction of Sulla, can, in comparison, seem commonplace. Nowhere is this better brought out than in the bustling year of 78 when all we hear of Lucullus is his involvement in an arresting but minor incident which illustrates not only his reverence for the law but also highlights again that quality of mildness which Sulla found in him. One day as Lucullus and his fellow praetors were giving judgement M’. Acilius Glabrio, who is believed to have been tribune at the time, passed by. When Lucullus failed to rise from his seat as a mark of respect to the other’s standing, Glabrio had his chair broken in pieces. Evidently believing himself to be in the wrong, Lucullus meekly accepted this reprimand and he, together with his colleagues, continued with his business standing.16 Demonstrations of this sort, with or without the smashing of chairs, are not rare in Roman history. Several instances are well attested where a magistrate (not always a tribune), believing that the dignity of his office has not been accorded the respect that is its due, has forcefully brought home to the offender the necessity for a change of attitude. There may, in Glabrio’s case, have been an element of personal animus. He certainly had little reason to love Sulla, who had forced him to divorce his wife so that she might marry Pompey, and the hatred thus engendered is like enough to have been extended to embrace one of Sulla’s leading henchmen. It may also be that Lepidus’ contemporary call to restore to the tribunate the powers Sulla had taken from it had emboldened someone who is habitually described as sluggish to bestir himself for once and insist upon the dignity of his emasculated office. But whatever motives impelled Glabrio to act as he did the matter definitely ended there and had no further repercussions. Later, indeed, Lucullus was to have other unpleasant dealings with Glabrio but, on this occasion, with the reprimand administered and accepted, there was no more to be said or done. The incident stands in stark isolation and has no connection with the other issues of the day.17 With the year of his praetorship over, Lucullus became governor of the province of Africa. All that we know of his

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activities there comes from a bald statement, in a late source which is as renowned for its brevity as it is for its unreliability, to the effect that he governed it justly. This calls for but two comments. To begin with, whatever qualms we may sometimes feel about the source, we can believe it here. What little it has to say is perfectly in harmony with what we know of Lucullus’ behaviour in other provinces. Likewise, the paucity of information means something else: Lucullus was in a peaceful province where there was no opportunity for military exploits. He was thus denied the chance to bring glory to the state and shed lustre on himself. While Pompey was warring against a worthy opponent in Spain Lucullus was performing routine administrative duties in Africa. 18 Looking at all of this there is an obvious temptation to level the charge of political incompetence at Lucullus for having allowed himself to be thus outstripped by his rival and, in one respect at any rate, the accusation may be justified. If it fell to anyone to voice his support for Catulus when Lepidus began to make difficulties over Sulla’s funeral then it surely fell to Lucullus. He, after all, had been most honoured in the dictator’s will. Instead, he seems to have done nothing and thus allowed Pompey to seize the opportunity that had been proffered. Proceeding from this, we might go on to level a further charge at Lucullus. He was a military man yet he did not join Catulus in crushing Lepidus and he did not seek the command against Sertorius. Once more it was Pompey who fulfilled these roles. There is a simple answer to these latter charges: Lucullus was absent from Rome when these matters came to be considered. By the time a decision was taken to do something about Lepidus it was already 77. Lucullus would have left for his province by then and so would hardly be reckoned among the men the senate might call upon for aid. However, when we probe the issue further we discover that the simple answer is not the whole answer. There is some reason to believe that Lucullus had not gone abroad willingly and that he had had hopes of playing a prominent part in the events that were about to unfold. Long before the actual decision was taken to destroy him, Lepidus had clearly become a menace. It did not require much wit then to predict that events would fall out as they eventually did. Lucullus seems to have divined matters correctly and tried to take advantage of the situation. It was not, in fact, Africa that was

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the province assigned him at first but Sardinia. He, however, refused to accept this because, as he said, of the large number of Romans whose activities in the provinces were by no means wholesome. The targets of the barb are obvious: provincial governors, their staff and the publicani. Such a statement is wholly typical of the man whose own pro-quaestorship in Asia had been distinguished by its gentle handling of the provincials. But highminded declarations of this sort, carrying, as they do, the implication that the speaker is morally superior to others, are rarely popular and least of all among those who suspect that they personally are being numbered among the delinquents. Eventually Lucullus’ attempts to realize his ideals with regard to provincial government were to bring him to grief, but even now his assertion can have won him few friends.19 But, aside from this one publicly proclaimed, Lucullus, as I hinted above, may have had another reason for this sloughing off his province. If he were free of other commitments then he might have some hopes of being called upon to aid in the quelling of Lepidus. If that really was his expectation then it would appear he was very soon disabused of it. His acceptance of Africa in place of Sardinia shows clearly his realization that he would not be given something more substantial closer to home. As he departed for his province he no doubt consoled himself with the thought that he could provide there an object lesson in provincial administration for those he had lately castigated. Ironically, had he clove to his original province he would have encountered Lepidus, for it was to that island the rebellious proconsul retreated when he was defeated in Italy.20 If we accept the hypothesis just expounded then we should be in a position to appreciate fully the difficulties Lucullus would have faced in pursuing his ambitions not only in 78 but also in 77, had he chosen to linger in Rome. If a bright young man were to be sought for military tasks for which his elders were unfitted then Pompey—despite the qualms of some, which were to be proved justified—was a more natural and obvious choice than Lucullus.21 In the elder statesman L.Marcius Philippus he had a powerful friend whose influence won for him the command against Sertorius and who also may have had a hand in seeing to it that he was sent against Lepidus. 22 Lucullus, indeed, had powerful friends of whom we shall speak but they do not appear to have been strong enough to overcome Philippus. They would

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hardly have been helped by a comparison between the military records of Pompey and Lucullus. Both had served Sulla well but the achievements of Pompey had been the more dazzling and his repute as a soldier stood high. On the other hand, many seem to have believed that Lucullus had no claim whatever on the title of ‘soldier’. We who can survey his whole career may find this a little strange but it was not an unreasonable opinion to hold at the time. While Pompey was one of the mighty warriors of the late civil war Lucullus was merely the man who brought ships tardily to Sulla, collected monies in Asia and had failed to capture Mytilene. The difficulties he had faced must have been as well known to the Romans as they are to us but the malicious, we may be sure, simply ignored them and talked only of the failures. A few years later when Lucullus sought the Mithridatic command we shall discover a substantial body of opinion in the senate that does not believe him equal to the task. Then, when he did actually receive the appointment, some said he made ready for the coming campaigns by interrogating experienced soldiers and reading histories.23 Thus, Lucullus cannot be totally blamed for his failure to achieve greater prominence at this time, despite the help of Sulla’s will. He had to contend with Pompey’s powerful friends, the latter’s great reputation and his own relatively minor achievements to date. We have spent some considerable time on this comparison of Pompey and Lucullus but we need make no apology for doing so. Since both men can be said to have helped shape the destiny of the Roman republic a comparison is undoubtedly important. It becomes vital when we reflect how as rivals—nay enemies—their careers intertwined. Nevertheless, in carrying out this exercise we must beware lest we acquire a distorted view of Lucullus’ career up to this point. Judged by any standards Pompey’s career had been extraordinary and remarkable. Brilliant campaigns, fought in his twenties, under Sulla had resulted in a triumph for a man who had held no office, however lowly. And still without holding office he obtained command against Lepidus and Sertorius. 24 Small wonder that beside him Lucullus should appear very ordinary indeed. But, if we shift our perspective and measure Lucullus’ career not against that of this extraordinary man but against what was the norm and against that of the mass of his contemporaries then we shall see that it was creditable and more

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than creditable.25 Although his career had been delayed by war, Lucullus still felt confident enough to postpone it still further in order to hold the aedileship with his brother. Then, such was his influence, he was able to have a law passed enabling him to be elected immediately afterwards to the praetorship. This was followed by an excellent provincial government and, upon his return, he was elected consul within one year of being suo anno. In sum, Lucullus’ advance to the highest office had been one of almost unbroken, and at times privileged, progress. But before we talk of the consulship there is one other matter that must engage our attention. It is appropriate that we say something here about certain aspects of the political situation at Rome in the 70s for not only did the rivals Pompey and Lucullus advance their careers against its backdrop but it was then, I believe, that the fate of the Roman republic was sealed.26 On one thing the Sullan oligarchy were virtually unanimous. Surviving proscribed men like Sertorius would, for obvious reasons, receive no quarter. The sons of those others whom Sulla had proscribed were not to enjoy their full civil rights either. Should such men hold office then they would inevitably attempt to recover their lost properties. Sulla had done his work well in this department. By distributing his enemies’ estates to his followers he bound them to himself and ensured they would not admit unwholesome elements back into public life.27 Yet, for all of that, the Sullan oligarchy seems to have gone in fear of what might emerge from among its own numbers. Everpresent before them was the possibility that someone judged sound and respectable and admitted to public life by Sulla might imitate the general’s example and mount a coup d’état. The heterogenity of the Sullani carried dangers with it. Ex-Marians were particularly feared as being mere time-servers of doubtful loyalty, and such fears were wholly justified in the case of Lepidus. Before he was destroyed he had unveiled most ambitious designs: restoration of the powers of the tribunate, re-introduction of corn doles and restoration of confiscated land to its previous owners. In short, he aimed at the total abolition of the Sullan system.28 And the uneasiness did not go away after that. Caesar, who owed his life and his career to an act of grace on the dictator’s part, had never made any secret of his enmity to the Sullan system. So when, in 65, as aedile he began gathering

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gladiators ostensibly for a show, the senate took fright and set a limit on their numbers.29 Most famous of all the assaults on the Sullan system was, of course, the conspiracy of Catiline in 63. Press of necessity had turned the one-time Sullan hitman into a champion of the poor and an advocate of the abolition of debt.30 The senate’s initial hesitancy in dealing with Lepidus and Catiline can in part be attributed to the fact that such a corporate body is naturally slow to act. But even more there lies behind such sluggishness a desire not to provoke trouble unnecessarily. Having had one taste of civil war, the fathers were not anxious to have another.31 At first sight it might appear that the lack of a standing military force or police could have hindered the Sullan republic in its attempts to defend itself. By way of an answer we need only appeal to its record. When troops were needed to meet external threat from an armed force they were found and they duly did what was expected of them. In point of fact the consequences that flowed from the rise of Pompey, one of its greatest defenders, proved in the end to be far more dangerous, nay fatal, to the republic than any assault from without. Nobody nowadays, I think, believes that Pompey aimed at anything more than to be the first man in the republic. With dignitas greater than anyone else’s he would be deferred to and have the rules bent in his favour.32 Yet there were times in the 70s when it must have seemed to some, at least, that he actually sought domination. Along with his military talents Pompey had inherited from his father, no mean practitioner of the art, a talent for brinkmanship which he exercised to the full.33 When Lepidus was crushed his refusal to disband his forces was in contradiction of an order from Catulus to do so and soon after he received the command against Sertorius in Spain. On his return from there he kept his army intact until the last day of 71 before entering on his consulship the very next morning. On neither occasion was there any violence, no treason was spoken and no overt move to seize power was made, but men must have looked uneasily over their shoulders and bethought themselves of Pompey’s former master, Sulla. They certainly did so in 62, for upon Pompey’s return from the east many thought mistakenly that he would imitate the old dictator. All in all, as we survey these incidents it is not impossible to believe that Pompey’s subtle pressure played some part in getting him what he wanted.34

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Undoubtedly Sulla was responsible for giving Pompey’s career its initial impetus and was also to blame for turning his head by hailing him as ‘imperator’ and ‘Magnus’ and permitting him to triumph. But the dictator also seems to have realized that he had created something that ran clean contrary to his own ideal of a state where no man might have excessive power and that something would have to be done to smother it. It is certainly not without significance that, after his triumph in 81, Pompey never received any further public employment so long as Sulla lived.35 We are probably on safe ground if we say that no matter what conditions were like in the 70s a man of Pompey’s ambitions and abilities would have sooner or later emerged into public life once more. As it happened, it was chance, and chance alone, that facilitated Pompey’s career and determined the shape it would take. We may say it was this chance too which played a large part in the destruction of the Roman republic. It is very easy to understand why the consuls of 77 should decline the dangerous honour of the Spanish command. The Romans had a strong traditional memory of the horrors of the Spanish wars of the previous century and anybody might hesitate to pit himself against the inhospitable terrain and an enemy like Sertorius.36 But, nevertheless, their refusal and the refusal of anybody else to go revealed a situation of which the Romans themselves were acutely aware: by chance it had happened that there was at this time a lack of military talent in the state. A situation had arisen which a man might foresee but not legislate against and there was but one remedy.37 Pompey might be potentially troublesome but Sertorius was definitely dangerous. There was really no option but to confer a special command on the young man. In taking this decision only the dimmest can have been unaware of what it implied. Pompey might rid them of Sertorius but there would be a price to pay. He would be helped further on that road which lead to the pre-eminence he craved. But neither now nor later were the senators prepared to let him have that position.38 The senate was ever ready to use his talents but not to reward them. Now it is very easy for a historian, armed with the deadly weapon of hindsight, to lecture the dead on what they ought or ought not to have done in a given situation but we may, perhaps, be permitted one observation. In hardening their hearts against Pompey the oligarchy had erred greatly.39 Their attitude eventually

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drove him into the arms of Crassus and Caesar to form the First Triumvirate, and few will deny that out of that there came directly civil war.40 We may now return to our narrative of Lucullus’ career and one of the things we shall be considering is the part he played in defending Sulla’s constitution, which, as we have just seen, was in some danger. We do not know how long Lucullus spent in Africa. We are thus either at liberty to assume that he returned to Rome in 76 and remained quiescent for a year before embarking on an electoral campaign for the consulship or instead we may choose to believe that he was not free of provincial duties until 75 and that he began his canvass immediately on his return. One circumstance might favour the second alternative. If Lucullus were in Rome it is unlikely that either his ambitions or the political situation would have allowed him to be quiet for a whole year. But if the date of Lucullus’ return to Rome is disputed the date of his consulship is secure. In 75 he was elected to the consulship of 74.41 We described how Lucullus wooed the people when he sought the aedileship and although we are told nothing about his canvass on this occasion, we may be sure that he did not neglect to do so now either. Here we shall spend a little time considering another aspect of Lucullus’ campaign, namely the support he enjoyed from the political friends he had made in his years in public life. All men at Rome could call themselves ‘Sullan’ but some could, and did, lay greater claim to that title than others. Lucullus naturally was one but he was not alone in considering himself an inheritor of Sulla’s mantle. One of the features of these years was the existence, within the ruling oligarchy, of an informal group of nobles who made the defence of Sulla’s constitution the chief aim of their political life. Where others were hostile, lukewarm or merely indifferent, they were ardent. It was they, for instance, who were to be in the forefront of the opposition to the Gabinian law that conferred such wide powers on Pompey. 42 But now, with cer tain alar ming developments in the matter of the tribunate,43 a sense of urgency was lent to their support for their friend Lucullus. A sound man was needed in a position of authority to deal with the problems of the day. So we can with reasonable certainty state that a formidable array of consulars, Q.Lutatius Catulus, Mam. Lepidus, C.Scribonius Curio, Cn. Octavius and Cn. Cornelius Dolabella, came to canvass on Lucullus’ behalf. It is very like too that he

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called upon men like Q.Hortensius, the leading orator of the day, and L. Cornelius Sisenna whose partiality for Sulla could be seen in the histories he wrote. Probably these men will also have aided Lucullus’ colleague, M.Aurelius Cotta, since it is almost certain that he too shared their political views.44 But more than a shared political stance linked Lucullus to some of these men. In the case of Catulus, Hortensius and Sisenna, Lucullus enjoyed a warm personal relationship. All four had a common interest in literary and philosophical matters. So far as Catulus and Lepidus were concerned there was something more. Both shared Lucullus’ dislike of Pompey. Catulus is unlikely to have forgotten how the young butcher flouted his order to disband his army and Lepidus had good cause to remember Pompey’s intervention in the elections of 79 as that had cost him the consulship then.45 We may fittingly close our chapter on the politic man with Lucullus’ marriage, for such an event in the circles in which he moved usually wore a political as well as a domestic aspect. His bride was a girl called Clodia from the family of the Claudii Pulchri. As so often with Lucullus, the date is not known exactly but two circumstances allow us to fix it approximately. The girl’s father, Appius Claudius Pulcher, died about the middle of 76 and it was Clodia’s brother, also called Appius Claudius Pulcher who, acting as her guardian in accordance with Roman custom, gave his consent to the match. Then again, Lucullus, in the course of his consulship, is described as a married man. Thus the weddingday must have fallen somewhere after the middle of 76 and before the middle of 74 when he departed for the east.46 The Claudii were patricians with a reputation for hauteur and waywardness. Two of the present generation, Tertia and her brother C.Claudius Pulcher, were by no means negligible figures in the society and politics of the time but few will quarrel with the judgement that they have been eclipsed by Clodia herself and the other members of the family who fully lived up to the traditions of their ancestors. Of Clodia’s own activities we will speak in another place. A third sister, also called Clodia and like all the girls of the family accounted a great beauty, was famed in her day for her love affairs and she has achieved a kind of immortality through being identified, rightly or wrongly, with that Lesbia to whom Catullus wrote so many of his poems. The brother Appius, of whom we have just spoken, was well known

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for his stubborn self-regard and his jealous fostering of the dignity of his clan. In politics he was perceived as being a man of fickle loyalties whose primary allegiance was to himself. But, without doubt, the most colourful of the lot was P.Clodius. He early showed signs of instability and his reputation was to be besmirched with the imputation of incest. By deliberate and avowed choice he chose the way of the demagogue, a choice that eventually led to his death in a brawl on the Via Appia.47 Such was the family into which Lucullus married. As I hinted, almost invariably matters of this sort among the Roman nobility were arranged with a view to the political advantages which would ensue. The bond thus forged would, it was hoped, result in the members of the two houses working together in public life. Nor is it difficult to detect such a consideration at work here. The stature of Lucullus, a plebeian noble, would have a number of cubits added to it as a result of an alliance with an ancient patrician family, even if some of its members were eccentrics. But, if we look at the matter dispassionately, we must conclude that the Claudii stood to reap greater benefit from the alliance than Lucullus did. 48 Upon his death the elder Appius had left his large family in straitened circumstances and so when Lucullus came to seek Clodia’s hand he magnanimously forbore from looking for the customary dowry. Indeed, the younger Appius in after-times would jokingly remark that until Lucullus resigned Clodia’s portion to him he could not afford to serve mulsum (honeyed wine) at home but could taste of it only when he scrounged it in other people’s houses. In modern times he would doubtless have said he never drank cognac unless somebody else was paying for it. 49 However, for a man in Appius’ position shortage of funds meant more than a simple shortage of delicacies. A fair amount of money was required to finance a political career and, in its absence, Appius and his two ambitious brothers might, for all their distinguished ancestors, find some difficulty in procur ing advancement.50 Hence there was a certain urgency about finding good husbands for the girls,51 and so the acceptance of Lucullus’ overtures, especially as he was prepared to be generous when it came to financial arrangements. He was rich and he had already made some mark in the world. Plainly he could do something for the Claudii and they did not hesitate to take advantage of the connection in order to further their own careers.

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A dynastic union then. However, since it defies reason to argue that no Roman couple ever felt any attraction for each other, we are at liberty to ask if Lucullus viewed Clodia with an eye to anything other than the events of the senate house or the forum. We have seen that she was renowned for her good looks and since other men found her attractive we could suppose that Lucullus did too. To waive a dowry might indeed betoken anxiety to gain a political advantage but equally well it is amenable to the interpretation that it reveals a smitten suitor’s ardour. The question of the existence of warmer feelings than simple cold calculation in Lucullus’ marriage is therefore an open one and I believe it is best left so.52 But whatever motive (or mixture of motives) impelled Lucullus to marry Clodia, the marriage itself was not to be a happy one and his connection with this dangerous and volatile family brought him small profit.

IV The consulship

Right at the very beginning of his consulship, Lucullus was obliged to deal with a crisis that had arisen in Spain. There the forces of the gover nment were exper iencing considerable difficulties because of the failure of Rome to send them supplies and reinforcements.1 Pompey had despatched a stream of missives asking for help but to no avail.2 At last he wrote in exasperation to say that if the present situation continued he would be forced to bring his army back to Italy with the possibility that Sertorius would then soon be hot on his heels.3 This letter was read to the senate at the start of 74. Immediately, Lucullus and the other consul, Cotta, neither of whom had any desire to see Pompey’s return, proposed he be given what he asked for. Their influence prevailed and the necessaries were duly voted. On the surface, this appears to be a straightforward transaction. Recognizing the gravity of the situation, the consuls coerce a sluggish senate into doing its duty. A closer look, however, reveals that it is not, perhaps, all that simple. To start with, we might ask why Lucullus should have exerted himself in this fashion to rescue an enemy from embarrassment. Then again, we might legitimately enquire why Pompey had been allowed to get into such a mess in the first instance. To answer this second question first: Rome was, at this time, faced with a financial crisis and a famine brought about by her foreign wars and the activities of the pirates in the Mediterranean.4 In short, there was very little money to spare for Pompey. That, however, is only half an answer. If it were possible now to scrape together what was needful, why was the scraping not done earlier, especially since Pompey’s plight was well known for some time? We can, I think, detect the malign influence of Pompey’s enemies at work here. To suggest 51

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that they deliberately withheld supplies in order to bring about his destruction is a palpable absurdity. He was one of the commanders duly appointed by the senate to prosecute the war and his enemies, no less than he, fervently wished to see the campaign brought to a successful conclusion with an end made of Sertorius. At the same time, it is not difficult to imagine a situation where they would view with equanimity Pompey’s failure to distinguish himself and that they might work towards the objective of the chastisement of youthful arrogance. Metellus Pius, the other general in Spain, was sounder politically and it would be all to the good if he were to gain the major part of the credit for winning this war.5 Unfortunately, things had been allowed to go too far. There can be little doubt that what Pompey said about his position and about what would flow from it was perfectly true. Already a seasoned general, he would surely know when a position had become untenable and when retreat was necessary.6 At the same time we may suspect there was an element of bluff in what he said. Quite simply, Pompey was exercising, once more, his talent for brinkmanship. A military situation was being exploited for the benefit it might give.7 In the present instance he dangled before his audience nothing less than the complete collapse of the Spanish war-effort. This, as we have noted, was a real enough possibility but it looks as if Pompey deliberately made things look worse than they really were by claiming that Sertorius would then go over to the offensive. In fact, it is very doubtful if the latter were strong enough to launch a serious assault on Italy.8 But there were many at Rome who would not have known that and many more who would tremble at even the very mention of such a thing. Pompey knew his men and he made it his business to thoroughly frighten them. So, we may say that Pompey had a very good case to begin with and that he improved its appearance by skilful presentation. Furthermore, from the very outset, he must have had a good idea that the ploy would work for the simple reason that there were people at Rome who had their own reasons for keeping him where he was. One of these was Lucullus and this brings us to the answer to our first question: why did he aid Pompey?9 It is sometimes claimed that Lucullus’ motive was fear, fear that if Pompey returned then the Mithridatic command would be given to him. Relations between the king and Rome had now reached

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the point where another war yet again appeared virtually inevitable. Nobody had yet been chosen to command Rome’s army since hostilities had not actually commenced but Lucullus was determined that when they did he himself should lead it. However, a moment’s consideration will show that whoever Lucullus had to fear as a rival it could not be Pompey. Someone who has botched one major operation is not usually entrusted immediately with another. Rather, Lucullus was anxious about something else. At the present moment he held as his province Cisalpine Gaul and his hope and expectation would be that he might slough it off in favour of Asia. But should Pompey be beaten out of Spain all hope of such a swap would instantly be at an end. With Sertorius seemingly about to descend on Italy the senate would surely oblige Lucullus to go to the province he had been assigned and there mount guard. Police-work would take the place of the glamour and glitter of an Asian command. In sum, Lucullus saw looming before himself a governorship like that he had had in Africa.11 But this was not likely to be the only consideration that weighed with Lucullus. He will have bethought himself of what Pompey was likely to do should he actually turn up in Italy. In the light of his career to date nobody can have seriously believed for even a moment that this thrusting young man would quietly disband his army and go home.12 As we know, there were those at Rome who mistakenly believed Pompey was capable of mounting a coup. But even those who did not share this extreme, pessimistic view could draw little comfort from Pompey’s previous ambiguous behaviour. More manipulation could be expected. Should Pompey return at the head of an army then, given his record in such matters, he could almost certainly be expected to try and exploit his position at its head in order to gain something for himself. And, as he was a man with both friends and enemies, one could look forward to tension and quarrels.13 Since Rome was now already facing serious difficulties at home and abroad this kind of situation were plainly best avoided.14 Pompey should be given what he asked for. Clearly there was something statesmanlike in such an outlook and Lucullus at this time was not motivated solely by worries over his own career. We are explicitly told that he acted for the good of the state.15 Apart from the disruption that might ensue from Pompey’s return he obviously regarded it as unacceptable that the

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forces of the legitimate government should be driven from Spain. To be worsted by a bandit and a renegade would constitute an intolerable affront to the majesty of Rome. Hence, Lucullus laid aside his enmity for Pompey. And when he put his proposals to the house he found a majority of a like mind. Those who out of indolence or malignancy had been unwilling to send Pompey supplies now showed the greatest enthusiasm for doing so.16 One other excursion that Lucullus may have made into the domain of imperial policy may be mentioned here. Some believe that the problems of Cyrene had become ineradicable and intractable and that Lucullus’ new constitution had failed to bring any relief. Thus, so the argument runs, he now (74) urged the senate to take up the legacy of some twenty years before and annex the place, since that would be in its best interests. The senate was willing to listen. We have just seen that Rome’s financial position was shaky and this, in turn, had led to a food crisis, which we shall, in due course, illustrate by reference to a famous and dramatic incident. Plainly, there was need of new areas to exploit in order to bring some amelioration in the situation and so the senate went ahead and erected Cyrene into a province. Neat and tidy this reconstruction of events may appear but the reader should bear in mind two words of warning. Though plausible, Lucullus’ intervention is purely hypothetical. It is the kind of behaviour we expect of the man but it is nowhere mentioned in the sources. Further, the annexation may not have taken place at all in 74 for there is good reason for assigning it to 75.17 What is not in doubt is that Lucullus had other matters besides running the empire to preoccupy him. He was also called upon now to defend Sulla’s laws from attack. We have already seen one weakness in Sulla’s schemes in the matter of military commands and have observed that the author of the constitution was not wholly to blame for them since they were, in part at least, not of a sort to be legislated against. Now we encounter another, which manifested itself about the same time and for which most of the blame must attach itself to Sulla. I speak of the arrangements he had made for the tribunate. This was one of the areas towards which the dictator’s reforming zeal had been particularly directed, for it was from here, since the time of the Gracchi onward, that one of the greatest challenges to stable government as he conceived it had come. So Sulla emasculated it. Tribunes were deprived both of

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their power to bring legislation before the people and of their right to summon the senate. Their veto or intercessito could now be employed only to protect the rights of an individual and might not be deployed against a law. Finally, anybody who held the tribunate would automatically become ineligible for any other office. Sulla’s intentions can hardly be in doubt. With the prospect of advancement removed, only the mediocre would seek to become tribunes. And if, during their year of office, they were minded to exercise their second-rate talents then the drastically reduced powers at their disposal would ensure that their capacity for mischief-making would be limited.18 It may very well be—we cannot say for certain—that Sulla thought he had done his work well here. Unfortunately, a dispassionate examination reveals serious flaws in his arrangements. To begin with, he had left virtually untouched the natural power base or constituency of the tribune: the plebs. He did nothing to reduce their numbers, even though one presumes he might have found places for some of them in his colonies. After all, traditionally such foundations had been used to siphon off excessive and potentially dangerous numbers. Indeed, so far from reducing the number of the plebs Sulla actually increased it. A body of 10,000 slaves of the proscribed was manumitted and, given the name of Cornelii, distributed among the tribes. The idea seems to have been that, mindful of their origin, these men would have a wholesome and restraining influence on those whom they were set among. But the Cornelii proved to be a grave disappointment. They vanish almost as soon as they appear and play no discernible role in the politics of the 70s. The supposition must be that when it came to confrontation they opted to identify with the class to which they now belonged rather than sally forth as loyal clients of those who had made of them freedmen.19 Now, it can be claimed that, however badly it worked out in practice, the creation of the Cornelii was, in its basic theory at any rate, a reasonable scheme, but the same can hardly be said of Sulla’s abolition of the system whereby a ration of corn was sold cheaply to the people. Even his loyal followers recognized this and the events of the years immediately after Sulla’s death brought out clearly the wisdom of having such a system and paid tribute, it may be said, to the foresight of Caius Gracchus, who first devised it. With the state guaranteeing storage and regular

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distribution the vagaries in supply, so common in the ancient world, had less of an impact. People ate regularly and when people eat regularly they are less likely to give ear to agitators. Sulla’s measure, on the other hand, simply ensured that when hunger came the plebs would rebel against his system.20 In sum, Sulla left the plebs virtually untouched. They remained what they had always been: a large and volatile body who, if conditions were right, could be stirred to action by a skilled hand. The dictator had hammered the tribunate but the people’s reverence for the office had not diminished one whit. The tribune was their officer and, at the right moment, they could be relied upon to respond to a call to restore to him his full powers.21 Conventionally, the bar on advancement from the tribunate to further office is seen as one of the most effective clauses in Sulla’s tr ibunician law. 22 The able and ambitious would shun this magistracy, leaving it to become the preserve of the sluggish and the mediocre. Yet the history of the tribunate after Sulla reveals a paradoxical situation: so far from ensuring tranquillity this ordinance merely emboldened certain people to seek confrontation. To put it simply: a man facing political extinction at the year’s end was not likely to worry over-much about his actions or their consequences. He would see no reason for ingratiating himself with the great since their power and influence would not be deployed to secure his advancement. Indeed, the only hope of such advancement lay in having the restraints placed on tribunes removed and so it was entirely natural he should want to work towards that end. If he were successful then obviously he had much to gain and, if he were not, he had little to lose. Sulla, in fact, was scarcely dead when the call for repeal was heard. The tribunes of that year (78) divined that Lepidus would be their man. At first he refused their request to have full tribunician powers restored but then as his own position became more extreme, he relented and included this item in his programme. His eventual squashing may have disappointed, but it did not deter.23 Two years later the tribune L.Sicinius demanded that extribunes be allowed to stand for higher office and directed tirades at the consuls, Cn. Octavius and C.Scribonius Curio, who were numbered among Sulla’s staunchest supporters and formed part of that circle of Sullani to which Lucullus belonged. True to his reputation as a noted wit, Sicinius likened Curio to one Busbaleius, a famous actor of the day who was popularly supposed

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to be crazed. Cur io does not appear to have found this particularly funny and he was certainly not amused by Sicinius’ proposals. He therefore proceeded ruthlessly against the tribune.24 Any self-congratulations the inner circle of Sullans might have indulged in were destined to be short-lived, for the very next year starkly revealed the dangers attendant upon Sulla’s inadequate provisions for keeping the plebs in their place. In 76 the suppression of Sicinius had merely awoken mutterings but now the temper of the populace had radically altered. The economic crisis, to which we have referred, had now reached the point where the shortage of grain had become very serious indeed, and a hungry and enraged people soon let its feelings be known. One day as the consuls C.Aurelius Cotta and L.Octavius, accompanied by a praetorian candidate Metellus Creticus, were making a stately progress along the Via Sacra they were set upon by an infuriated mob. Dignity had to be forgotten as the trio dashed for the safety of the nearby house of Octavius. But, as so often happens—the phenomenon is familiar to students of the French revolution—the elemental cry for necessar ies can often become a call for political change. Capitalizing on this re-awoken aggressiveness of the people, another tribune, Q. Opimius, repeated the demand of the previous year: let extribunes be allowed to sue for higher offices. The Sullans, for their part, fully recognized the dangers inherent in this changed situation. One of them, Hortensius, was aedile in this year and, in an effort to assuage popular fury, he arranged for a grain distribution to be made. But it was too late. By now yet another flaw in Sulla’s arrangements had revealed itself. He seems to have overestimated the Roman nobility’s capacity for facing down the mob. When a man such as Lepidus stood outside the law and had recourse to arms there was, in one sense, no problem. The senate might dither and hesitate, at first, but having time at their disposal the fathers eventually steadied their collective nerve and took the steps necessary to deal with the threat. But with a mob on the streets of Rome time was not given for reflection and in consequence hesitancy and fear were not always overcome. Despite his own experiences in 88 when Marius and Sulpicius intimidated the senate, Sulla does not seem to have taken this factor into consideration. At best, he seems to have hoped that his senate would model itself after, say, those who had crushed the Gracchi.

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If that was what he thought, then the present instance showed his calculations to be awry. The consul Cotta cracked. His late experiences on the Via Sacra had thoroughly unnerved him and he resolved to placate the mob. With the enthusiastic backing of Opimius and the support of the people he passed a law removing the ban on tribunes standing for other offices. Under any circumstances the Sullans would have been enraged by such a bill but in the present instance they were incensed beyond measure. Up until now they had no reason to suppose that Cotta was anything but one of themselves. Exiled by the Varian commission, he had been brought back to Rome by Sulla. Owing his political life to the dictator, he had been at one with those who sought to defend his ordinances until the day he resolved to put the advantage of the moment before what they conceived to be the greater and more lasting good.25 The discomfiture of the Sullans was crowned and completed in the following year when all the other laws Cotta had passed during his consulship were abrogated but that concerning the tribunate was suffered to remain on the statute book. So, not only had the Sullani been unable to stop Cotta in the first place; they were now equally unable to undo the damage he had done. Even the joy of personal revenge was denied them and they had to be content with venting their spleen on the lesser culprit, Opimius, deriving what satisfaction they could from engineering against him a court case that resulted in his financial ruin.26 So, after this reverse, we can appreciate why Lucullus’ friends and allies would expect much from him. With Cotta’s capitulation further trouble could be expected and a strong man would be required to deal with it. The enemy must not be allowed to advance further. They were not to be disappointed. Another tribune, L.Quinctius, now popped up to press for further tribunician reform. He yoked this with an assault on the jury system, which Sulla had left in the hands of the senators. Corruption was alleged as the reason for reform here. This was supposed to have taken place during a celebrated case of the day—the lurid details are preserved in Cicero’s Pro Cluentio—that of Oppianicus of Larinun who was standing trial for poisoning. At first Lucullus tried to avoid direct confrontation and spoke privately to Quinctius in an effort to dissuade him from making trouble. Without a doubt such a course came naturally to someone of Lucullus’ placid nature. But

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he may also have wished to avoid further public strife. Such feuding could not but be dangerous in view of the doubtful international situation. The war in Spain was, we know, not going well and yet further campaigns both against the pirates whose marauding had in part caused the recent food shortages and also against Mithridates had become imperative. Wars on this scale are best fought when there is concord at home. That is to say, we can detect here the same statesmanlike outlook that informed Lucullus’ dealings with Pompey. Quinctius was not to be dissuaded, however. But he then discovered that, as sometimes happens, the mildmannered can, when provoked, prove to be most formidable opponents. In the present instance Lucullus deployed his oratorical powers to the full and showed himself to be more than a match for his adversary. Clad—to the delight of connoisseurs of the Awful—in a long purple gown reaching to his ankles, the flashy tribune called from the rostrum for magisterial reform only to have Lucullus answer with equal vehemence as he refused to yield anything. In the judicial sphere Quinctius fared no better. He managed to extract from the senate a senatus consultum directing Lucullus to investigate his allegations of bribery. The latter, however, simply refused to execute the warrant and there the matter lay. For this year, at least, there would be no further changes in the constitution. Modern historians, however, tend to emphasize that Cotta’s law of the previous year had, in fact, made it inevitable that Sulla’s other ordinances would eventually be repealed. The question of inevitability might, ultimately, be left to the theologian but the historian will, at least, want to know how Lucullus and his friends viewed the situation. Unfortunately, our sources do not say and thus all we can do is propound two differing hypotheses, each of which could be possible. It may very well be that the Sullani saw Lucullus’ successful defence of the established order as a kind of turning-point in their fortunes. Thanks to the pusillanimity of Cotta something had been yielded but no more would be given away. The Sullani had shown they were strong enough to resist any further assault. In some quarters a less sanguine view could have been prevalent. The failure to repeal Cotta’s measure showed clearly how weak the friends of Sulla really were. Sooner or later there would come an attack that would prove fatal. Lucullus’ success did no more than offer a respite. But, despite their acknowledging the truth of this observation, all the instincts of

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these men would forbid them to follow Cotta and his example into simple craven surrender. They would never make a public declaration of their weakness. Though recognizing their cause to be doomed, they would preserve face by defending it to the last. As I have said, we have no means of telling which, if any, of these views prevailed in Sullan circles. All that can be said is that, if the second was held, then time showed it to be the correct one. In 70 Pompey’s influence was far greater than that of the Sullani and when he backed tribunician reform the result was the abolition of the remainder of the Sullan measures. 27 The failure of their peers to support the Sullani can only be understood when we have formed a just appreciation of the danger the tribunate posed. In the case of people like Sertorius the issue was simple: either you destroyed him or he destroyed you. Nobody could be in any doubt that if the renegade ever returned victorious to Rome then the ruling oligarchy could expect to forfeit power, positions, wealth and (in many cases) life itself. Hence there could be no compromise here. All other differences were laid to one side and the oligarchy, as one man, proceeded against the common foe. In contradistinction to the dangers posed by the rebel in arms, the threat from the tribunate was neither immediate, constant or necessarily fatal. The tribune did not only menace the senate. With full powers he might interfere in all departments of life but riot and revolution rarely followed his interventions. And instances where a tribune actually menaced the position of the oligarchy had been rare in the past.28 In the light of these remarks it is possible, I believe, to envisage that on the tribunician question there was room for a divergence of opinion that would not have been found when the topic of Sertorius was mentioned in polite Roman society. It seems to me that in the Rome of the 70s everybody would have agreed on one basic proposition: a tribunate restored to full powers had the potential to create trouble. Dissent would then occur as people pondered the extent of that potential and the response which it required. Undoubtedly, Lucullus and his fr iends were the most pessimistic in outlook and consequently most violent in reaction. It would be a palpable absurdity to suggest that they foresaw what was to happen when the restoration actually took place. Indeed, it is doubtful if they looked to the future at all. Their

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gaze was fixed on a past where the likes of P.Sulpicius had almost destroyed their late chief and they could see no way of controlling such mavericks save by muzzling the tribunate as a whole. Others who looked back over the same years might, with some justification, have reached a slightly different conclusion. The damage done by the tribunate had not, perhaps, been as great as the good. Was it right then that an ancient and revered office of state should be truncated as it was now? Again, those who looked into a future where the tribune had full powers may have consoled themselves with the thought that whoever now filled the office would proceed with caution having, like themselves, learned the lessons of the recent civil war. If the charge of naïvety be levelled at such a viewpoint I can only plead that people do think in this way. The 1930s form a splendid example of the consequences (far more extreme than anything experienced in ancient Rome) of basing policy on such a calculation. But the Romans were, anyway, a practical people and others looking to the same future reached a more brutal but equally comforting conclusion: a man who aspired to be a Gracchus was a rarity but the senate now, as in the past, was perfectly able to oblige him and see that he met the same fate as his hero. Aside from these attempts to learn the lessons of the past or divine the course of the future, there was also the desire to enjoy the present. Once people realized that the restoration of tribunician power did not mean their destruction then they will have perceived an immediate advantage in reform. The constant agitation over this matter would be brought to an end. True restoration of powers might lead to even more disturbances but who could say for certain? In any case, doubtful future trouble must have seemed like a cheap price to pay for certain present ease. We can now see how Lucullus and his friends ultimately failed to save Sulla’s laws on the tribunate. Their stance was only one of a number in the Rome of the day and they failed to command in the senate the unity they required on the issue. No doubt Lucullus was troubled by the weakness of his position but he had another preoccupation to divert him from melancholy reflection: the Mithridatic command. We have already seen that this was an element the consul had taken into account when dealing with Pompey’s request for reinforcements and the ag itation of Quinctius. The time has now come for us to see exactly why. With the peace of Dardanus the First Mithridatic War had come

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to an end. Ratification of the treaty did not immediately follow, however, and the king, who had never been very keen on its terms, began to try and evade them. Among other things, the assault Murena made on him, sometimes dignified with the title of the Second Mithridatic War,29 brought it home to him that it were best to regularize his position vis-à-vis Rome and become an amicus sociusque (friend and ally). So one day in 78 his ambassadors turned up at the senate to ask that the treaty be formally accepted but there they received a nasty surprise indeed. The senate would not admit them. Neither party to this transaction could be in the slightest doubt as to what it signified: without a formal treaty Mithridates was, in Roman eyes, no amicus but a hostis. He was an enemy to be attacked and destroyed.30 The senate claimed that it was too busy to receive the ambassadors but nobody believed them then and nobody seems to believe them now. Preoccupation with Lepidus could hardly have reached the point where important emissaries were simply shooed away.31 What was most likely the real reason for this behaviour was the general unpopularity of the peace. Even Sulla’s men had made known their displeasure32 and the senators no doubt shared the view of the commons that its terms were altogether too lenient for the man who, in 88, had perpetrated those massacres that, in view of their scale, we now call the Asiatic Vespers. Nor did Mithridates himself do anything to help his case. His recent attempts to evade his obligations under the treaty were nothing more than the latest in a series of cheap frauds and transparent devices that he, over the years, had attempted to foist on Rome. Nobody likes to be thought a fool, and a Roman senator, with his ingrained sense of his own worth, was likely to be hurt more than most if he believed somebody so regarded him. Hence the fathers seem to have reasoned that there was little point in concluding a treaty, of whose provisions they did not approve anyway, with a man whose attitudes had not changed and who would, in consequence, be expected to break it at the first opportune moment. Although, by this refusal, the senate had not just annoyed Mithridates but seriously provoked him, it did not set out to war on him. The king himself tells us why33 and although he can hardly be called a totally unbiased witness what he says sounds perfectly reasonable. Some years later he told the king of Parthia that only their problems elsewhere prevented the Romans from attacking him. Readers of this chapter so far will not quarrel

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with that analysis. The unfolding of events reveals for us what Roman policy was. Because of their preoccupations in other places, they were content simply to watch Mithridates and do nothing so long as he made no overt threat. But the moment he showed signs of becoming aggressive then, no matter what engagements there were elsewhere and no matter what the cost, he would be met with firmness. For his part, the king of Pontus reacted with fury to the news of the rebuff his ambassadors had suffered. For him, this was an act of treachery made even worse by the hollow excuse which cloaked it. Like many crooked people, Mithridates lacked a sense of irony and so he indulged in feelings of moral outrage and indignation when he discovered that others could employ against him the kind of cheap diplomatic trick he himself had used in the past. But thinking oneself to be in the right has never been a guarantee of security and Mithridates was acutely aware of the peril in which he stood. 34 Sooner or later there would be war with Rome and he had best be ready for it. To this end, therefore, he completely overhauled his army. Profiting by his bitter experiences in Greece he now formed a force on the Roman model. Gone was the gilding and the glitter, gone too was the raucous multilingual indiscipline of yesteryear which had fared so ill at the hands of Sulla. In their place there came sober, well-drilled units. A search for new allies led to marriage-alliances with Cyprus and Egypt. These, in the event, proved to be of little practical worth but alliances with tribes such as the Scythians and Taurians of Asia and the Sarmatians and Thracians of Europe brought useful recruits to the ranks. Nor did the king neglect old friends. Once more he approached the pirates and added these, who had been so useful in the past, to the numbers of his host. But the most striking of all Mithridates’ alliances was forged in 75. In that year he despatched two Roman renegades, L. Magius and L.Fannius, to Spain. These had served in Fimbria’s army35 but, upon their commander’s death, had thrown in their lot with Mithridates. Now through their agency a pact was made between the Pontic king and Sertorius. Mithridates was to send a fleet and money to Spain. In return, Sertorius despatched to him one of his officers, M.Marius, to aid in training the new model army. He also acknowledged that Mithridates might have a free hand to do as he would with Bithynia, Paphlagonia, Cappadocia and Galatia.

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An agreement of this sort needs little gloss. By aiding Sertorius after this wise, Mithr idates intended to exacerbate Roman troubles in another part of the world. And he would only have done this if he intended to exercise shortly the rights Sertorius confer red on him in his own area. What it was impelled Mithridates into this alliance and, it has to be said, eventually war was no secret either in 75. For some time it had been common knowledge that the childless Nicomedes IV of Bithynia, ignoring the claims of a pretender, was going to leave his kingdom to Rome. As Mithridates had twice in the past chased this same Nicomedes out of the place it is, I think, legitimate to infer that he believed he had as much, if not more, right to it than the Romans. Such then was the position of Bithynia. Both great antagonists laid claim to it and whoever yielded to the other on the issue was not only conceding him territory but was doing so at the expense of his own loss of face.36 So we can now see precisely why from the start of 74 Lucullus was preoccupied with the question of the Mithridatic command. Like everybody else in Rome he knew that the events of 75 could have but one outcome—war—and he determined to lead it. Hence the problems posed by Pompey and Quinctius had to be solved in a fashion that would leave him free to bid for the command when it was put on offer. Thereafter events moved with great rapidity. Mithridates had not the slightest intention of backing off from confrontation. From the summer of 75 right through the winter of 75/74 preparations for war went ahead apace. The barbarian allies in Asia and Europe now received requests to join their master. In Pontus itself munitions were manufactured and down came forests to build a fleet. Along the route this invasion was to take supply depots were set up. Yet, for once, the Romans were way ahead of Mithridates and moved before his preparations were complete. Early in 74 Nicomedes died. Even though it was yet winter the governor of Asia M. Junius Juncus was ordered to occupy the kingdom. He duly marched into Bithynia and began turning it into a Roman province. Thus when spring and the campaigning season arrived Mithridates found the enemy in occupation. But even then he was not completely ready to engage them. First of all, he had to give his new fleet a sea-trial. Then, before he could feel strong enough to take on the foe, Mithridates wished to have by his side his European allies. The most natural place for them to join him

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was in Paphlagonia and Mithridates headed for there first of all. So, as he waited for the various contingents to come in, even more time was lost.37 The moment Bithynia was annexed the despatch of reinforcements became imperative. Nobody, save the most dimwitted, could have failed to realize that Mithridates was going to do exactly what I have just described him as doing. Juncus seems to have had only a small force and it would require considerable stiffening if he were going to resist the kind of assault Mithridates was about to launch. The long-awaited Mithridatic command had become a reality and it was time for Lucullus to make his bid for it. In making that bid Lucullus enjoyed the full support of his consular colleague, M.Aurelius Cotta.38 We have said little of this man so far and mention has been but casual. Quite simply, this is in keeping with his position vis-à-vis Lucullus. He was one of three Cottae brothers then active in politics, all of whom began their careers as good Sullans. In this man’s case he seems to have belonged to that middle group in the senate which sought to conciliate Sulla with his enemies and, when this proved impossible, threw in their lot with him. The elder brother we have already met. He it was who, in the previous year, had opened the first breach in Sulla’s constitution. The younger, Lucius, completed the work with a bill in 70 restoring the full powers to the tribunate. Unlike this pair, however, the middle brother never wavered in his devotion to the Sullan ideal and was content to play the role of loyal helpmate to Lucullus.39 He certainly cherished ambitions of a command in the east but any possibility that this would bring him into conflict with Lucullus was removed when it became known that the senate intended to send two commanders to deal with Mithridates. The lesser of the two would go to Bithynia with a fleet. There he would replace Juncus and defend the new province against Mithridates’ attack. That task would be considerably lightened by a further senatorial decision, namely, to wage an offensive war on the Pontic king. L.Octavius, the governor of Cilicia, had just died, so whoever succeeded him would be given also the province of Asia and the command of the war. In essence what Lucullus and Cotta had to do now was quite straightforward. Under the Lex Sempronia of Caius Gracchus their provinces had been designated before their election in the previous year. This, of course, was before it was realized there would be war with Mithridates. So,

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Lucullus, as we know, had received Cisalpine Gaul. What Cotta held we cannot say but obviously it was not an eastern province. Therefore, the two would have to approach the senate, be relieved of their current provincial commands and receive charge of Cilicia and Bithynia.40 The execution of this design did not prove to be easy, however. Many men, we are told, sought the Mithr idatic command. 41 As we have no names this might seem to cast a doubt over the accuracy of this statement. But hesitancy is needless. The lengths to which Lucullus had to go to beat it off is proof enough that the challenge was real indeed.42 Anonymity, in fact, probably means simply that those who contested with Lucullus were of small talent.43 The situation now was rather different from what it had been a couple of years before when nobody could be found to go to Spain. Then the men of small merit reasoned that whatever might be gained there in the way of booty would be little recompense for the rough treatment Sertorius would hand out. Now, although nobody will have thought of Mithridates as an easy opponent, the wealth of Asia must have seemed to some enough to make it worthwhile taking him on, and since there is no direct correlation between ability and political influence it is perfectly possible that men of this type could (and did) command sufficient of a following to mount a serious challenge to Lucullus. In fact, Lucullus’ colleague Cotta, with his own easter n ambitions, is a perfect concrete example of the kind of secondrater who now longed to fight Mithridates. Although totally loyal to Lucullus, he possessed political influence of his own which he was not afraid to use44 and which in another’s hands could easily have been turned against his fellow consul. When he did get to the east Cotta soon showed he was not up to the tasks with which he had been entrusted. On the one occasion when he acted on his own initiative he precipitated a great disaster from which he had to be rescued by Lucullus. After that, Cotta was content to let his colleague conduct the main fight while he conducted a side-campaign. This, it is fair to say, was characterized by incompetence, cruelty, treachery and an unslakable thirst for loot. A fitting climax was reached on his return to Rome when Cotta had to face a charge of repetundae and expulsion from the senate in consequence.45 The upshot of all this was that when Lucullus made informal

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soundings he discovered he would not have a majority in the house when he asked to be conferred with the Mithridatic command. His abilities would not outweigh the malign influence of his rivals. There was nothing else for it. He would have to approach Cethegus. But who was Cethegus and what could he do for Lucullus? P.Cornelius Cethegus had been a senator since at least 88 and possibly earlier. It therefore follows that by then he must have held some office or other. But how far he had actually advanced in the world we cannot say for definite. A praetorship in the Cinnan period has also been conjectured but definite proof is lacking. Beyond dispute, however, is the fact that he made a very bad mistake in 88 when he elected to become one of Sulla’s enemies. He found himself declared an outlaw and forced to flee for his life. Returning to Rome in Cinna’s wake, he promptly deserted to Sulla when the latter landed in Italy. Divining who was going to win the war Cethegus came and made his peace with his old foe. He soon redeemed his promise to be of service to Sulla when he induced part of the garrison of Praeneste (Palestrina) to surrender with a pledge of safe conduct, which proved to be worthless.46 Thus restored to public life, Cethegus very rapidly became one of the leading figures in the post-Sullan senate. There can be no better illustration of or more elegant a tribute to his power than the fact that, when in 77 the senate was debating what to do about Lepidus, Philippus, in a speech urging strong measures, singled out Cethegus as a most dangerous opponent. Cethegus is, in fact, the only senator thus named and Philippus directly accuses him of being eager to renew civil strife so as to profit thereby. Taking their cue from this, some scholars go further and implicate Cethegus in Sertorius’ revolt. We know that the rebel had a treasonous correspondence with people in Rome but no names have been preserved. But, in the light of Philippus’ accusations, it has been suggested Cethegus was among them. Yet one wonders. Philippus’ scurrilous attack may not so much constitute a plain statement of fact as an unwitting acknowledgement both of the difficulties Cethegus had encountered in reaching his present position and his success in overcoming them. In general, it can be said that men like him, who had but lately turned, were not popular with Sullans of long standing, and the behaviour of people like Lepidus shows why. Therefore, it was but natural (if

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unfair) that in moments of crisis it would be assumed that Cethegus and those like him were up to no good. In the absence of any firmer evidence we may at least wonder if the astute Cethegus really was going to risk his position a second time. Certainly, one should not too readily believe an accusation made by Philippus who was, in his way, as slippery as his enemy. His past too was besmirched by his dealings with Cinna and in consequence it may very well be that he also was an object of suspicion. And what better way to deflect that than by turning peoples’ attention to others?47 The nature of Cethegus’ power is not in doubt. He controlled a bloc of senatorial votes whose number was such as to make it of decisive weight when voting in the house was close. As a consequence Cethegus was a much-courted man. The mighty of Rome waited upon him bearing gifts and begged to be admitted to the sunshine of his favour.48 What is puzzling, though, is how Cethegus established and maintained his control over these creatures of his. Cer tain theor ies can be excluded from consideration without hesitation. Patronage in court is one such since we are specifically told Cethegus’ influence lay elsewhere and that, in truth, he was a very poor speaker. The speeches he made in the senate were merely adequate for the business in hand and no more. By the same token we may safely rule out any extensive patronage exercised over Italian communities and individuals. When Cethegus was called upon to woo the men of Praeneste it was surely because he was a well-known Cinnan face and not because he was a powerful local baron. The possibility that our faction-leader lent money to people in order to help with election expenses or to meet other less reputable debts is obviously attractive. We must, however, remember that we have no evidence as to what resources he commanded and can only wonder how far, if at all, he profited by the proscriptions. 49 The real key to understanding the influence Cethegus wielded lies in a statement of Cicero’s to the effect that he was a man who knew the workings of the state thoroughly and as a result was able to exert a power equal to that of a consular in the senate. We may be sure that this power did not extend over those in the upper regions of the house. Those who had held high office were not likely to become the errand-boys of a man like Cethegus.50 So the influence must have worked further down. In fact, we can pinpoint where and show how Cethegus would find his command of

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statecraft especially useful there. In brief, what happened is that Cethegus was able to exploit one particular feature of the Sullan reforms. At any given time there was in the senate a large body of rank-and-file members who are sometimes called pedarii. Normally they took no part in debate but contented themselves with registering their vote. They thus ranked lowest in the scheme of things and many of them were destined to rise no higher, lacking both ambition and ability. Sulla’s augmentation of the senate naturally increased their numbers and thus, at one moment, a large body of such men entered the senate. All of them were looking for guidance as to the procedures of the house and how they might best use their votes. I would suggest that it was Cethegus with his inimitable knowledge of the workings of the state who came forward to give that guidance and advice. He it was who showed them what they must do and how they might advance their interests. In consequence he won much favour (gratia) and soon had large numbers at his command.51 In the story of Aelius Staienus we may observe, after a fashion, Cethegus fulfilling his paternalistic role. Staienus was a notoriously corrupt senator who had, during the trial of Oppianicus, accepted money from the defendant in order to bribe the jury. When it looked as if details of the transaction were about to come out Staienus is said to have approached Cethegus for advice. The latter, so the story goes, is supposed to have told him he should claim he accepted the money to effect a reconciliation between Oppianicus and his accuser. Some believed this to be insincere advice. Cethegus was widely held not only to hate Staienus but to be, in principle, opposed to conduct such as his in public life. Now, seeing that he was unlikely to escape, he gave him this worthless counsel. Others took a more benign view and declared it to be the best possible advice that could be given under the circumstances and the one that would put the most wholesome construction on Staienus’ action. Wherever the truth may lie, one thing is beyond dispute: we catch here a glimpse of Cethegus wielding his influence over one of the lowly. 52 To find an occasion on which Cethegus deployed his foot soldiers to decisive effect we do not have to look far. In this very year (74) M.Antonius was given a special command against the pirates. However, he only obtained this because the consul Cotta and Cethegus joined forces and used their combined influence to obtain it for him.53 The lesson was obviously not lost on Lucullus

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and, as we saw above, he deter mined to make an ally of Cethegus. But here a further twist enters our narrative. The pair were open enemies. We may be sure Lucullus, like the good Sullan that he was, shared to the full that general hatred and mistrust felt for late converts to the cause, like Cethegus. Our ancient authority also supplies us with a second and more personal reason for dislike. Lucullus thought Cethegus to be a fairly disgusting sort of person because of his sexual habits.54 Ironically, it was precisely those habits that enabled him to win Cethegus’ support. At this time there was in Rome a woman called Praecia.55 She was renowned for her beauty and intelligence, although her detractors said she was nothing more than a hooker. 56 Whether this accolade originated with a disappointed male suitor or a jealous female rival I cannot say, but it fits ill with our admittedly scanty knowledge of the lady.57 Praecia seems, in reality, to have been somewhat selective in bestowing her favours, specializing in the rich and powerful. She presided over a kind of salon to which her numerous upper-class admirers flocked. 58 However, Praecia was not just content with being admired but used her influence among the powerful to advance the careers of those she favoured. Cethegus was numbered among her entourage and was said to be so totally besotted with her that he would do nothing save at her behest. As we know, Lucullus was aware of the situation and, swallowing his scruples, he set out to exploit it. He made himself pleasing to Praecia with gifts and flattery and won her over to his side.59 Cethegus then received his instructions and he obeyed. A triple alliance was formed between Lucullus, Cotta and Cethegus and when it came to the assignment of provinces the trio achieved their objectives. To Cotta was given Bithynia, while Lucullus received Cilicia and the Mithridatic command.60 This whole transaction has attracted a good deal of comment in modern times and, it must be said, not all of it has been favourable.61 Judgements such as ‘a sordid intrigue’ and ‘not a pleasant episode’ have been passed. Yet it is difficult to fault any of the principals for acting as they did. In the case of Cethegus one cannot, to begin with, withhold one’s admiration for him when one considers the skill with which he rebuilt his shattered career. From being an outlaw with a price on his head he went on, in the face of considerable hostility, to become one of the

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most powerful figures of the day. Then, when he had shown himself to be a master of political management we can hardly expect him to do otherwise than use the power thus gained to influence events. Perhaps the time has come for us to acknowledge Cethegus for what he was—a great parliamentarian. So far as Lucullus is concerned, on a dispassionate view all that he can be accused of is possessing a sense of realism. If he were to get the Mithridatic command he would require the votes Cethegus controlled. And, in approaching Cethegus, he had to use the services of an intermediary. So he used the most influential. Had he won Cethegus by means of a mutual male friend one wonders if there would have been any fuss at all. As for Praecia this much may be said: it should occasion no surprise that a spirited and intelligent woman such as this should want to break the constraints Roman society placed on her. Instead of just talking about politics in her salon she wanted to play a part in actually shaping them. Women, of course, were not permitted to hold office in Rome but we do know that, in a number of ways, they sometimes played an indirect role in the shaping of events and they could hope to have some influence over what their menfolk did.62 In one sense, then, there was nothing untoward in Praecia giving advice and Cethegus taking it; in another, there is every reason why it should cause the greatest possible offence. If advice was to come from a woman it was expected she would be a chaste wife, mother, sister or daughter and not someone who was popularly rumoured to be a prostitute. Such advice too should be tendered in a discreet manner and not paraded in the brazenly open fashion in which it had been given on this occasion. But, if Praecia really had the intelligence with which she is credited— and her championship of Lucullus would seem to indicate she had—then, whatever the Romans might think, the question of how she earned her living is simply irrelevant to any judgement we might wish to form. What we are talking about here is not sexual morality but wit and political acumen. Acknowledging that Lucullus benefited by the advice of an alleged whore, we should be equally ready to admit that many a man has come to grief because of the advice of a good woman. To see in this episode evidence of some sort of canker or distemper in Roman political life is, I hold, absurd. So far from being proof of rot and ruin, the whole affair is simply yet another example of indirect female

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influence on Roman politics. Such interventions were, as we saw, not uncommon and, we may add, one to be found in all societies. Even our own is not immune, or so some profess to believe.63 With the immeasurable benefit of hindsight we can say that the Roman republic was about to enter its death-throes. That same hindsight should allow us to see that one woman’s meddling with matters political was in no way responsible for the onset of those convulsions. Immediately he had received his commission, Cotta set off for Bithynia. No doubt the desire for loot and glory had him in its grasp but in fairness it should be said that the sooner he arrived there with his reinforcements the better. Mithridates’ army was growing by the day in Paphlagonia. Lucullus, however, remained for a time in Italy. Waiting for him in Asia there were legions but he wished to augment these forces by raising a further legion at home. 64 While about this task he was also putting his staff together. A commander on campaign usually had the services of one or more legates whom he, in effect, picked himself. Legati were expected to serve indefinitely but might quit with the general’s permission. 65 This campaign was to be a long one and the irregular appearances that certain figures make would suggest that Lucullus allowed the war-weary to be replaced from time to time by fresh recruits. Political connections could secure a man a place on a general’s staff but the prudent commander usually chose with an eye to ability rather than birth.66 Lucullus’ political appointees were few and their presence on his staff is readily explicable. Ap. Claudius Pulcher, who was to prove useful on a diplomatic mission for Lucullus, plainly owed his position to being the general’s brother-in-law.67 His brother P.Clodius turned up in 73. He enjoyed no official title but was simply a comes or companion. He had good reason for wanting to be out of Rome that year. Some of the Vestals had been charged with incest and Clodius had distinguished himself (if that is the right word) by the savagery of his verbal assault on one of the accused, Fabia. For his pains he received such a severe mauling from the younger Cato that he decided the rigours of the camp were preferable to the feel of that tongue.68 Under Sulla, Lucullus had served alongside L.Licinius Murena, son of the instigator of the Second Mithridatic War. The two seem to have got on well together but friendship alone did not win Murena his place now.

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He was a good soldier and having fought Mithridates both under his father and Sulla he could provide useful experience for his new commander.69 Save for the fact that he was active very early in the campaign nothing seems to be known of an officer called Mamercus. There has been a suggestion, however, that he could be a son of Mam. Lepidus (cos. 77). As the latter was a political ally of Lucullus, Mamercus could perhaps owe his position to this connection.70 A connection of a sort also previously existed between Lucullus and his legate C.Valerius Triarius, a man who served him well throughout the whole campaign until he went down to defeat right at its very end. After Lucullus refused the governorship of Sardinia the next governor we hear of is this Triarius and it was he who made an end of Lepidus.71 In contrast with Triarius are four other officers about whose background we know little or nothing: Sextilius, whom we shall encounter at the Parthian court; 72 C.Salluvius Naso, who operated in Mysia and Phrygia in 74;73 M.Fabius Hadrianus, who first makes his appearance in 72;74 and a Censorinius who commanded the fleet in 70.75 But if these are names they are at least names. We now enter the realms of confusion. Similar ity of name means that a Pompeius and a Pomponius get mixed up. The former chased Mithridates to the Armenian border. In contrast, the latter was captured by Mithridates when he was a prefect of cavalry but the king, admiring his gallantry, treated him well.76 But this is as nothing to the problem posed by Barba, Voconius and Sornatius. The first two we hear of only in 73 but Sornatius is attested as being with Lucullus throughout the whole campaign. According to taste and the scholar one reads, there are various possibilities offered by the evidence. The Voconii had their origins in Aricia (Ariccia) and our Voconius has been identified with a certain C.Voconius whose name is known from a dedicatory inscription of the first century BC. This equation would seem preferable to the view that Voconius and Barba are one. What we have here is a record of an addition to the temple of Diana at Nemi, an act we might expect from one who was to put religious duties before military obligations. Yet another blend is favoured by some who would make Sor natius and Barba a single person called C.Sornatius Barba, although others would keep them separate and give us a man called Cassius Barba.77 Depressing as this confusion must seem at first sight, when

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taken together with the obscurity of so many of the other names it tells us something important about Lucullus’ army. The staff largely consisted of men who may be described as belonging to the professional officer class. Scholars have detected a growth, ever since the reforms of Marius, in the number of men who do not follow the time-honoured practice of making the army the starting-point for their eventual political career but rather choose to make soldiering itself their life. The men who officer Lucullus’ army and who are scarcely heard of again outside of the camp illustrate perfectly this trend in Roman life.78 By about the middle of August 74 all was ready and Lucullus sailed away to confront Mithridates.

V Confronting the king: the war with Mithridates

Lucullus came ashore in his province at Ephesus. Awaiting him were four legions. Two of these had served under P.Servilius Vatia Isauricus in his campaigns (78–74) in Cilicia against the pirates. Vatia was a good soldier and these men, in consequence, were well disciplined and ready for the fray. The attitude of the other two, however, gave some cause for concern. These were the Fimbrians (so-called). They, it will be remembered, had served under Sulla’s enemy Fimbria and when the proconsul departed from Asia he had left them behind since he did not wish to be stabbed in the back in the coming civil war. It is doubtful if they had seen action since the fall of Mytilene in 79 and their time since had been passed in garrison duties. As a consequence of this their sense of discipline was not all that it might have been. Moreover, now that a fresh army had arrived in Asia they were entitled to seek their discharge. Nevertheless, they reenlisted and submitted meekly enough to Lucullus’ efforts to bring them to order.1 Lucullus’ initial intention was to make a drive on Pontus but events soon rendered this plan obsolete. Leaving one of his generals, Diophantes by name, in Cappadocia to block Lucullus’ advance, Mithridates made his long-awaited descent on Bithynia. As we know, Cotta had by now established himself there but such was the fury of Mithridates’ advance that he withdrew before it and took refuge in Chalcedon (Üsküdar).2 At once the cities of Asia, still labouring under the debt-burden created by Sulla, began to show signs of unrest and to look to Mithridates as a deliverer. Lucullus soothed them and warned the publicani to moderate their behaviour. At the same time he abandoned his earlier objective and marched to the aid of Cotta. The first part of Mithridates’ 75

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strategy had been completely successful. The Romans had been diverted from Pontus. The second was now to yield a like satisfactory result. From the very start of the campaign a quick victory in the field was necessary because of the difficulty of victualling so large an army, and now, with the Roman armies divided, it was imperative that victory should be won over Cotta before Lucullus could reach him. Cotta, for his part, proved amenable. Hearing that Lucullus was on his way, he feared lest his colleague might share in the expected triumph and so he gave battle at Chalcedon, only to be crushed by land and sea and bottled up in the town. Lucullus was encamped somewhere on the Sangarius river (Sakarya) in Bithynia when news of the disaster reached him. Some of his officers and many of his men, resentful of being deprived of the easy pickings of Pontus, urged him to abandon Cotta. Let him extract himself from the mess that had been of his own making. Archelaus, who had once been Mithridates’ chief general but had been obliged to flee when he fell under the despot’s displeasure, was present to add his voice to the chorus saying that Lucullus had only to turn up in Pontus to become master there. Lucullus, however, would not be swayed. He told his Roman critics that it were better to save one Roman life than to capture all of the enemy’s territory. To Archelaus he merely said he was not the sort of hunter who dodged the wild beasts simply in order to take possession of their empty lairs.3 So Lucullus continued with his march towards Chalcedon. Even before the battle Mithridates, knowing he was coming, had despatched an ar my under the command of the Sertor ian renegade Marius to stop him. The two armies came face to face at a place called Otroea near Nicaea (Iznik). Battle lines were already drawn when, so it is said, a flame-like body fell from the sky between the two armies. Silver in colour, it resembled a jar in shape. Both sides, recognizing an evil omen, instantly withdrew. Lucullus, in point of fact, had been in any case reluctant to engage in a set battle, so, if we are prepared to believe this story,4 like any pious Roman, we should acknowledge that the gods in this way showed approval of this attitude and the concept of strategy that informed it. Lucullus had already divined how best this campaign might be won. The Pontic army was considerably larger than his own and, although Sulla had smashed up two such

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armies, Lucullus, mindful of the fate of Murena sen., thought it prudent not to engage the enemy face-to-face but simply to harass it incessantly. Without a battle the position of the Pontic force would become critical because, given its size, it would soon run short of supplies. Lucullus, therefore, closely questioned some prisoners about mess conditions and discovered that the enemy had food for only about four days. So he waited in his own wellstocked camp until Marius was forced to withdraw. The Romans followed the enemy and skirmished with his cavalry. Not all of Lucullus’ troops approved of his handling of matters and some, in their eagerness for a proper fight, were at one point on the verge of mutiny.5 But as Lucullus approached Chalcedon, Mithridates executed a bold manœuvre. Abandoning the siege, he made for the town of Cyzicus. Lucullus caught up with him while he was still on the road but the king, taking advantage of a dark and rainy night, gave him the slip and by dawn had safely reached his objective.6 Cyzicus lay on what was then the island of Arctonnesus (Bear Island) and is now the peninsula of Kapidag.7 This is situated on the western end of the sea of Marmara and, at the time of which we speak, was joined to the mainland by a single causeway. The town itself, which had two harbours, lay close to this causeway8 but a suburb had been built on a nearby hill called Arctonoros (Bear Mountain). Overhanging this peak was another called Dindymon, which was sacred to Cybele.9 The fact that Cyzicus was the first major town he encountered on his invasion of Asia and that he bore a grudge against the inhabitants for aiding the Romans at Chalcedon were only minor considerations in Mithridates’ decision to attack the place. His principal motive was to capture what he regarded as the gateway to Asia and he was encouraged to do this by the belief that it would easily fall into his hands. Once he had taken the town he would have an abundant food supply at his disposal since the inhabitants were known to be in the habit of keeping a large quantity of grain in the town and mixing it with some kind of earth to prevent spoilage. The excellent harbour facilities meant that further supplies could be brought in and that war-fleets would have a base from which to carry the fight into the Aegean. On the landward side armies could sally forth into Asia for, as in the First Mithridatic War, it was the king’s intention to grab as much territory as possible. The resolution of the inhabitants and

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the skill of Lucullus were, however, to bring these plans to nought.10 At first all went well. On his arrival the king took possession of the mountain range of Adrasteia which lay on the mainland opposite the island and of the suburb on Arctonoros. From this last point the Pontic forces were then divided into ten camps to encompass the city by land while the royal fleet mounted a blockade on the sea.11 Then Mithridates sent his generals forth to conquer Asia. One general, Eumachus, was despatched to Phrygia and from there he managed to penetrate into Pisidia and Isauria. A second, Metrophanes, was accompanied by the renegade Fannius and they carried their campaign as far as north-east Lydia. In redemption of his promise to Sertorius, Mithridates allowed Marius to assume the gover norship of the Roman province of Asia. Garbed as a Roman proconsul, he received the submission of Parium (Kemer) and Lampsacus (Lapseki).12 Shortly afterwards the Pontic king fulfilled another pledge and despatched to Sertorius the ships he had guaranteed him by their treaty of the previous year.13 While all of this was going on Lucullus arrived and took up his station at the village of Thracia which lay just east of the isthmus. When he had fortified his camp he called his troops together and told them they could have a bloodless victory. But in order to achieve this the Romans would have to seize the heights of Adrasteia so as to bottle up Mithridates and starve him out. As it happened there was but one narrow route to it, and, as we know, it was guarded by a part of the king’s army.14 Then in an evil moment Mithridates gave ear to his Roman agent L. Magius. This man said it was best to withdraw from Adrasteia. He claimed the Fimbrian legions were on the point of deserting and thus there was really no point in contesting the route since all the king desired would come to pass without toil. So Mithridates pulled his troops out and allowed Lucullus to occupy the heights without hindrance.15 One source suggests that with this worthless advice Magius was trying to ingratiate himself with Lucullus. He was worried about his future since he had heard Sertorius was dead. We have good reason to believe this latter detail was false but obviously that does not mean that Magius, anyway, was not trying to secure his own position. On the other hand, Magius could have acted in good faith. The Fimbrians did have a reputation for unruliness

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and once more, before the siege was out, they gave Mithridates reason to believe they might defect. Moreover, in following Magius’ advice, Mithridates may well have reflected that since the Roman had once been these men’s officer he might reasonably be expected to divine their mood correctly.16 Yet, even when we acknowledge these circumstances we cannot, I feel, escape the conclusion that Mithridates had made a colossal blunder. What made it a fatal blunder was his failure to remedy it even though he had time to do so. Lucullus, it was true, was now in an impregnable position but he had not built siege works or drawn his encirclement tight. Thus, with his numerically superior forces, it was possible for Mithridates to burst out and should Lucullus try and stop him it would go hard with him, something he himself had already realized. Instead, Mithridates chose to gamble. Food would now no longer be available from the mainland but supplies might yet be brought in by sea, even at the cost of diverting to transport work a fleet intended for war in the Aegean. Winter would, of course, put a stop to this too but Mithridates’ hope and expectation seems to have been that by then Cyzicus with its corn-bins would be his.17 The king therefore pressed on with the siege preparations already begun. The harbour was blockaded with a double wall and, on the land side, a trench was dug around the city. Mounds, towers and penthouses were raised. One monster tower stood 150 feet high and had yet another mounted on its top from which bolts and missiles were to be discharged. This creature had a kind of maritime cousin which rested on two quinqueremes bolted together. From it a bridge could be lowered on to the city walls.18 One can well imagine the thoughts and feelings of the Cyziceans as they watched all the fearsome panoply of Hellenistic siege-craft being deployed against them. To add to their terrors they seem, for a time, to have believed Lucullus had not yet come and that they stood alone. They could actually see his troops across the straits but thought they were par t of Mithridates’ army. When Archelaus sent a messenger they simply refused to believe him. At last, a boy who had escaped from captivity at Pontic hands was able to convince them that what they were looking at in the Thracian village really was a Roman army. According to another account, the good news was brought by a soldier of Lucullus’ who swam over to the city aided by two inflated skins.19 More Roman soldiers soon followed him. Well

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aware that the Cyziceans were famed more for commercial acumen than warlike valour Lucullus had a boat dragged overland from Lake Aphnitis,20 filled it with soldiers and despatched them to the town where they might lend their skills to the inhabitants in the ordeal that was about to begin.21 At this point, with all in readiness for an assault, Mithridates resolved to test the nerve of the defenders. He put on board ship 3,000 Cyzicean prisoners and sailed them up to the wall of the city. There they stretched out their hands and begged their fellow-citizens to pity them. However, Pisistratus, the Cyzicean general, would not yield and merely advised them to meet their fate with courage.22 Seeing that persuasion was availing nought, Mithr idates launched his assault. The quinqueremes came, dropped the bridge and four men ran across. The Cyziceans at first drew back but when the rest of Mithridates’ men were slow to follow the leaders they took courage and drove the four from the wall. They then poured pitch down on the ships and forced them to withdraw. By land there was a massed attack by the siege machines but the townsfolk broke the heads of the rams with nooses or simply deadened their impact with strategically placed bundles of wool. Fire missiles were quenched with water or had their force broken by linen cloths. However, in spite of all the efforts of the defenders, a part of the wall was weakened by fire and caved in towards evening. Fortunately for the Cyziceans, nobody dared enter the gap because of the heat and they were able to rebuild in the night. This piece of good luck was soon followed by another and greater. At dawn on the next day there suddenly arose a great wind which overthrew and utterly destroyed the larger part of Mithridates’ engines. Not unnaturally the desperate Cyziceans attr ibuted this to direct divine intervention. Persephone, patroness of Cyzicus, had, it was reported, appeared in a dream to the town-clerk to tell him she was about to set the Libyan flute-player against the Pontic trumpeter—an enigmatic statement which puzzled until it was swiftly fulfilled before the walls. It was also said Athena had appeared to a number of people in Ilium. She was in a dishevelled state and said she had just come from helping the Cyziceans.23 Soon after there came a further sign which boded no good at all for Mithridates. The festival of Persephone had come round.

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The Cyziceans were wont to honour their patroness by sacrificing a black heifer. Now they had to make do with a paste imitation since the real one was pasturing on the mainland. At the last moment, however, the black heifer left her pasture, swam the strait and obligingly presented herself at the altar.24 Seeing that the place was holy, some of Mithridates’ friends advised him to flee but he heeded them not and ascended Mount Dindymon. From here he constructed mounds extending to the city walls and on them built a set of towers. At the same time he set about collapsing the walls by means of mines. Now, however, Lucullus’ policy of masterly inactivity paid its first dividend. Winter had at this time set in and with the consequent closure of the seas the Pontic army began to feel the pinch of hunger. In an effort to be rid of useless mouths Mithridates resolved to send his cavalry away to Bithynia since they plainly had no part to play in these operations. A favourable moment occurred when Lucullus, in accordance with his policy of harassment, left his camp to besiege one of those ten encircling camps that Mithridates had established at the start of the siege. The Pontic horse set off at speed along the Lampsacus/Prusa (Bursa) road which runs roughly parallel to the shores of the sea of Marmara. Learning that the birds had flown, Lucullus returned by night to his camp. The next morning he began his pursuit. Foul weather attended his progress. Starting in a storm, he continued through bitter cold and falls of snow so severe as to cause many of his men to fall by the wayside. Lucullus, however, was never one to spare either himself or his men and so he persisted with the chase until he caught up with the fugitives at Lopadium (Uluabat), the natural crossingpoint of the Rhyndacus (Capaz) river. Falling upon them, he slew a great number and captured besides many men and baggageanimals while, it is said, the women from nearby Apollonia came forth to loot the dead. Lucullus himself then marched home, taking care to display his captives prominently as he progressed past Mithridates’ fortifications.25 But not only did the king have to witness this galling spectacle, he also had to receive the news that his expeditions to other parts of Asia Minor had failed. Metrophanes and Fannius were driven out of Mysia by the legate Mamercus and only after many adventures did they make their way back safely to their master. Contemporaneously Eumachus went down to defeat at the hands of Deiotarus, prince of the Galatians and ally of Rome. A

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little later we hear that Mar ius too had returned to base. Evidently his governorship had not been a success and one wonders how far a certain C.Salluvius Naso, another of Lucullus’ officers and known to be active in eastern Mysia and Phrygia Epictetus, had been responsible for this state of affairs.26 Now hunger became famine. Some sustained themselves by eating the bodies of the dead. Others partook of the local vegetation but unfortunately this proved to be poisonous. To the miseries of hunger there was soon added the horror of plague which broke out as a result of the huge number of unburied corpses that lay about the place. Mithr idates, nevertheless, continued to press the siege while the Cyziceans maintained their defiance by burning his machines, rallying forth to attack his weakened army and undermining his mounds. In one of these operations Mithridates nearly lost his life. A centurion from Lucullus’ ar my who was working underg round with the Cyziceans became friendly with some of the enemy who were boring from the opposite direction. He offered to betray the city but only on condition Mithridates himself should come down in person into the mine and pledge his good faith. It is a measure of the king’s desperation that he agreed to this. Cooler heads, however, surrounded the royal person and they divined what was afoot. So they constructed a doorway in the tunnel which might be quickly shut. When, therefore, the centurion and his men rushed Mithridates he was able to dive behind the door and go unscathed. A further sign, it is said, was now vouchsafed the Pontic king. From Mount Dindymon was heard a sound like that of a Bacchic rout. As on a more famous occasion some forty years later, the gods made a noisy exit as they deserted their favour ite. Mithridates at last realized there was no hope of taking Cyzicus and resolved to bolt at the first sign of spring (73).27 But although Mithridates had decided to quit Cyzicus he had by no means abandoned his original design of conquest. As a preliminary he despatched a fleet under his admiral Aristonicus to make war in the region. Before setting out, however, the admiral entered into negotiation with the Fimbrians who were in a dangerous mood after a winter spent under canvas. The outcome was yet another disaster to be added to the long list that had befallen Mithridates in this ill-starred campaign. When Aristonicus turned up with 10,000 gold coins, the supposed traitors, instead

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of embracing him warmly, seized him and carried him off to Lucullus.28 Mithridates himself made for Parium with the rest of his fleet. His embarkation had turned into a rout when many of his soldiers, fearing they would be left behind, rushed the alreadyover-crowded boats, with the result that a number of them overturned or sank. Seeing their enemy’s discomfiture, the jubilant Cyziceans poured out of their city to plunder the Pontic camps and slay the sick and wounded they found there. Mithridates’ land-forces were despatched to Lampsacus under the command of Marius and another general called Hermaeus. Twice their progress was slowed by the natural barriers based by the rivers Aesepus (Gönen) and Granicus (Biga). However, despite being attacked, and defeated at the crossing-places of Denizkent and Biga, a remnant succeeded in struggling into Lampsacus where they were put under siege by Lucullus.29 With the enemy thus cooped up Lucullus allowed himself a pause to savour his victory. Returning to Cyzicus, he entered the city in triumph and was hailed as a deliverer. The grateful citizens then initiated games in his honour which were ever afterwards known as ‘Lucullan’. The city itself was rewarded with an increase in territory and had restored to it the freedom it lost after the First Mithridatic War.30 When the party was over Lucullus headed back to the Hellespont to conduct the next phase of the campaign. In effect, there were two tasks to be performed. First of all, the Pontic garrisons had to be rooted out of a number of towns which they had managed to occupy in the days of Mithridates’ success. This work was entrusted to two legates, Triarius and Barba. The pair, first of all, reduced Prusa. Triarius then went to take Prusias (also called Cius) while Barba received the surrender of Nicaea from which the Pontic garrison had fled. Once he had done with Prusias Triarius made for Apamea, which he stormed with great slaughter.31 Lucullus’ other objective was to gather together a navy with which to break the mastery of the seas the enemy had enjoyed since they destroyed the Roman fleet at Chalcedon. The senate, deeply worried lest Mithridates might swoop on Italy, voted a sum of 3,000 talents for building a new one. Lucullus, however, refused this money. He held fir mly to the wonted Roman principle that friends and allies of Rome must come to her aid in

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an hour of need. Knowing the area intimately, he realized that all that was needful might be got from the states in the neighbourhood and so he proceeded to levy ships from them.32 In the interval, Mithridates, as might be expected, had not been idle. Pressing ahead with his plans to create havoc in the Aegean he sailed out of Parium. Coming to Lampsacus, he pulled out the bulk of his forces and with them he made a descent on Perinthus (Erikli) in Thrace. Failing to take the place he retreated to Nicomedeia (Izmit) where he established his headquarters. On the way, however, he ran into a storm which severely damaged his fleet.33 When Mithridates quitted Lampsacus he had left behind a hand-picked force of ten thousand men and fifty ships under the command of an exotically named tr io, Mar ius the Roman renegade, Alexander the Paphlagonian and Dionysius the Eunuch. As subsequent events show, the intention was that they should head eastward while their chief operated in the north. According to the story, Lucullus was camped at Ilium when one night the goddess Aphrodite in whose precinct he slept appeared to him in a dream, ‘Lion, why do you sleep’ she asked, ‘when the fawns are nigh?’ As befitted a disciple of Sulla Lucullus took this very seriously and soon learnt what the goddess meant. Thirteen ships, hurrying to join the main enemy force at Lemnos, had been spotted off the harbour of the Achaeans which was on the mainland roughly opposite the island of Tenedos. Lucullus immediately put to sea and captured this detachment. He then set off to encounter the main force only to discover his opponents had very cleverly drawn up their ships on the shore of a barren islet and he was unable to come to grips with them. Eventually, however, he landed an infantry detachment behind them. Those troops destroyed part of the enemy and forced the rest back to the sea. There they went down to defeat at the hands of Lucullus himself . Dionysius committed suicide but the other two commanders were captured. Alexander was reserved for the eventual triumph but Marius was executed on the spot since it was not held to be proper that one who had once been a Roman senator should be condemned to walk in such a procession. Lucullus then rounded off his victory by sending laurel-wreathed despatches, sign of especial rejoicing, to Rome. Relief and joy met them on their arrival. Ever since Chalcedon there had been a great fear lest a Mithridatic fleet might sail for Italy. Although

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there is no evidence to suggest this one was doing that and although its size anyway was hardly such as to make of it a serious threat, it was nevertheless proclaimed that Lucullus had saved Italy from invasion at the hands of a Sertorian renegade.34 By now, Mithridates was growing rather uneasy in Nicomedeia. He had had a first-hand account of the success of Lucullus’ legates when the fleeing garrison of Nicaea took refuge with him. The message was then considerably reinforced when Cotta, evidently judging it safe to nose abroad once more, now left Chalcedon and came to besiege him. He was joined soon after by Triarius fresh from the capture of Apamea. Fortunately for Mithridates, Triarius’ fleet was small and he was unable to block the Astacenus channel. Reinforcements were supposed to have come with another Roman legate, Voconius, but he was frittering away his time in Samothrace, having himself initiated into the mysteries there. When, however, Mithridates learnt of Lucullus’ two victories he realized the Roman commander would soon be at Nicomedeia and that it was, therefore, time to move once more. So he set out yet again, this time with the intention of attacking Rome’s ally Byzantium. But there again he was thwarted by a storm which wrecked many of his ships and scattered the rest. Thanks to friends within the town Mithridates himself found refuge in Heraclea Pontica (Eregli) a city like, Byzantium, [which] was an ally of Rome’s.35 So when Lucullus finally arrived at Nicomedeia he found that the foe had vanished. In order to decide what to do next he held a conference with his staff. A body of opinion at that meeting believed that since the king had been dr iven out of Asia hostilities should now cease. Lucullus, however, vigorously opposed this, arguing that they must needs go in pursuit of the foe. This advocacy of further action shows that Lucullus realized full well that if Mithridates were allowed to refresh himself he would simply return to the attack sooner or later. Killing or capture was the only answer to the Mithridatic question. Certainly the debate now centred on the strategic advisability of a further assault on the Pontic king and not on any doubts about the legality of such a move. By the terms of the Lex Cornelia de maiestate a governor might not campaign outside of his province without the senate’s permission. In the case of Lucullus this proviso had been waived. When the command of the war had been conferred on him it was not intended he should be

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confined to Asia but rather he was granted that freedom of movement deemed necessary to wage it successfully and bring it to an end. The Asiatic Vespers had not been forgotten. Those who would not ratify the Peace of Dardanus for Mithridates the hostis were determined, now war had broken out again, to destroy that enemy. So a division of labours was agreed upon. Lucullus himself was to invade Pontus. Cotta was given the job of subduing Heraclea, whose defection meant it could threaten the proconsul’s advance through Paphlagonia. Triarius, meantime, was despatched to the Aegean. In his hour of need Mithridates had recalled the fleet he had once sent to Sertorius and it was now known to be close to home.36 Mithridates himself was at Amisus (Samsun)—he had travelled via Sinope (Sinop)—when he learned of Lucullus’ intentions. The need for new allies was imperative so Mithr idates made application to the kings of Parthia and Armenia while at the same time an envoy called Diodes was despatched with a large sum of money to buy the support of the Scythians. The Pontic king, however, soon learned that a beaten man has few friends. Diodes took the money and ran to Lucullus while Parthia and Armenia refused to become involved. Even though Tigranes, the Armenian king, was Mithridates’ son-in-law, he, like his Parthian counterpart, saw no reason to get involved in this particular war. Only Machares, Mithridates’ son, who was king of the Cimmerian Bosporus gave any aid. So there was nothing for it but to move again and fall back on the resources of Pontus itself. The king, therefore, took up his station at Cabira where, in the course of the winter which now followed, he gathered together another army. Lucullus for his part marched south of Paphlagonia through the country of his allies, the Galatians. Victualling presented a considerable problem which was only solved by having thirty thousand Galatian porters follow the army with grain for the troops. But after dearth there came plenty. Descending the river Halys (Kizil) to a region around Amisus, the Romans found there an abundance of good things. An ox could be had for a drachma, a slave for four. Indeed, supplies were so plentiful that people simply abandoned or destroyed them.37 Lucullus himself now put Amisus under siege together with its suburb Eupatoria which derived its name from Mithridates’ surname Eupator. He also sent forward another part of his army

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to attack Themiscyra (Terme) which lay on the river Thermodon (Terme). Accounts of what happened at Amisus differ. One author says the siege went on briskly and the inhabitants, receiving supplies from Machares, even dared make sallies upon the enemy. According to another source, Lucullus pushed the siege without any great enthusiasm. About Themiscyra there is unanimity. Towers were built, mounds thrown up and tunnels dug in which both sides fought battles. A novel feature was the bears and bees that the townsfolk stuffed into these galleries in order to dislodge the Romans. The conflicting reports about what was going on at Amisus match well stories about the disagreements between the Roman commander and his men which had ar isen at this time. Apparently, when the Roman army got as far as Themiscyra they started to complain that they had had, as yet, no booty since every town had surrendered on terms38 and, as things stood, there was precious little possibility of any since it looked like they were being led to fight against the savage tribes of the Tibareni and Chaldaei who lived in a kind of waste. Amisus was the place to be where there was loot in abundance. Thus the eagerness with which the troops pushed the siege may have been matched by a certain reluctance on Lucullus’ part. They wanted booty; he wished to spare the town from sack. As it turned out, the troops eventually had their wish but not before they conceived a deep and lasting resentment at having had to go through another winter siege. A second complaint of a different order came from another quarter. Why, it was asked, were they besieging these towns in the first place when they should be pursuing Mithridates? At a contio Lucullus explained his strategy to his officers. If they attacked Mithridates in his present weakened state he would simply take fright and disappear into the hinterland of Asia where it would be difficult to lay hands on him. But, if he were given a period of recuperation, he would surely take the field again and the Romans would then be able to come to grips with him.39 With the coming of spring (72) Lucullus handed over charge of the siege of Amisus to Murena and set off to encounter Mithridates. Marching southward by way of the valleys of the Iris (Yesil) and Lycus (Kelkit) he met with the Pontic advance-guards at the town of Eupatoria (which place should not, of course, be confused with the suburb of Amisus which bore the same

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name).40 The enemy commander, Phoenix, obeyed his instructions to the letter and lit signal-beacons to warn his master of the enemy approach. Then duty done, he deserted to the Romans. Lucullus descended into the plain. About twelve miles from Cabira he found the enemy cavalry waiting for him and, in the subsequent battle, he was worsted and forced to retreat to the higher ground.41 For several days after this Mithridates brought out his forces but Lucullus was naturally reluctant to venture back into the plain. With the guidance of some locals whom he had captured he moved his army into a strong position on the heights with a stream to his front. From here he could make sallies on the enemy while at the same time he was safe from their attacks.42 For a time both sides held off from battle until, at last, one came on virtually by accident. Some of Mithridates’ men were hunting a stag when they were cut off by the Romans. Men came out from both sides to help their comrades and a skirmish developed in which the Romans were worsted. The soldiers watching from the Roman camp begged Lucullus to do something. He duly went down into the plain, confronted the foremost fugitives and persuaded them to turn back. The rest followed this example and with Lucullus at their head they drove the enemy back to their camp. The fugitives were made to pay for their behaviour, however, by suffering a public disgrace. In ungirt tunics they were forced to dig a large ditch while being watched by the rest of the army.43 Mithridates, however, did not just attempt to bring Lucullus to battle but had recourse to other methods in order to be rid of him. One of these was assassination. Our accounts of what happened differ about minor details but agree on the main outlines of the story. A certain barbarian prince pretended to desert from Mithridates and offered his services to Lucullus. Soon he so distinguished himself that Lucullus admitted him to his friendship. Then one day when the general was taking a siesta in his tent the barbarian asked to be admitted since he said he had urgent business. The attendants, however, would not let him in and angry words were exchanged. Realizing that he might not be able to give a satisfactory account of his behaviour the prince mounted his horse and rode away to Mithridates. The other weapon Mithridates attempted to deploy was one he had bor rowed from Lucullus himself—star vation. With his

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command of the lower ground he was able to cut off the Romans from local supplies. With the possibility that the siege might drag on into the winter the situation began to look serious. So Lucullus sent his legate Sornatius into Cappadocia to fetch provisions. Mithridates sent a force to attack the train only to have Sornatius cut it to pieces. In the mean time skirmishing continued until one day the Pontic forces were put to flight. Mithridates himself emerged from the camp and rallied his men who then chased the Romans back up the hill, so terrifying them that they kept running long after the enemy had stopped pursuing them. The king decided to puff this as a great victory and sent messengers to announce it far and wide presumably in the, ultimately vain, hope that it might bring allies to his side. Soon after with the onset of winter active hostilities ceased.44 The spr ing of 71 saw Lucullus naturally desirous of replenishing his supplies. So he sent another expedition into Cappadocia under the command of M.Fabius Hadrianus and this decision finally broke the stalemate. Mithridates sent a large cavalry force to attack Hadrianus as he returned but it fared no better than its predecessor had with Sornatius and was virtually annihilated. Mithridates wished to conceal this fresh disaster from his men but Hadrianus gave him no chance as he paraded his laden wagons in derision before the Pontic camp. The king now feared that Lucullus would go over to the offensive since a great part of his cavalry had been destroyed in the debacle and so he resolved on flight. He secretly communicated his decision to his senior officers alone to avoid panic in the ranks. Unfortunately, the officers could not wait for the signal to march but began to move their personal belongings out of the camp by night. When the common soldiers saw this they assumed they were being abandoned and, filled with panic, they scattered pell-mell in every direction. When he tried to stem the tide, Mithridates himself was nearly trampled in the rush. Lucullus, seeing what was happening, reacted swiftly. The infantry were sent charging into the enemy camp and there, longstarved of loot, they laid their hands on the rich spoils of the enemy. The cavalry was sent after Mithridates himself who had taken to horse. They had almost caught up with him when by accident or design a mule laden with gold crossed their path. To the horror of the ancient moralizing historian who relates the

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incident the soldiers stopped to plunder and thus allowed their quarry to get clean away.45 That quarry then made his way to Comana where he attended to two matters of moment. First of all, he gathered about himself an escort of two thousand horses for the next stage of his journey. Then, since he recognized that Pontus was now lost, the half-Hellenized king revealed the oriental side of his character in his determination that his womenfolk should not fall into the victors’ hands. He sent eunuchs to Pharnacia (Giresun), where they were lodged with orders to kill his wives, sisters and concubines. One sister, Nyssa, was lucky. She fell into Lucullus’ hands at the capture of Cabira. The others, however, perished as the king’s commands were scrupulously obeyed. By this time, as I have just indicated, Cabira had fallen to Lucullus and it was said he found dungeons there crammed with the king’s enemies. He then despatched a force under a legate, Pompeius, to renew the pursuit of the king. Pompeius continued the chase until he came to Talaura. Here he learned that four days before Mithridates had crossed into Armenia. Since he had no brief to proceed further Pompeius returned to Lucullus. Tigranes, we know, had never shown much enthusiasm for Mithridates and his war with Rome. At this point, of course, neither the laws of hospitality nor the ties of family could be ignored but the Armenian king showed clearly what he was thinking by literally keeping Mithr idates at a distance. The fugitive was not allowed to present himself at court but was, instead, confined to a remote estate.46 Lucullus himself tur ned to the task of mopping up the remaining resistance in Pontus. With the exception of the coastal towns it proved to be an easy job. A swift campaign sufficed to reduce the Calybes (Chaldaeans) and the Tibareni. This was followed by the occupation of lower Armenia. Most of the Pontic commanders, when they learned what Mithridates had done to his own family, saw little point in continuing the struggle and so they surrendered on terms to the Romans. One general actually brought fifteen fortresses with him when he came over to Lucullus. With the fall of these and other fortresses a goodly portion of the king’s treasures came into Roman hands.47 Coming back to the coast, Lucullus found that his subordinates had not been as successful as he. Murena was still before Amisus, baffled by the skill of the Pontic commander, Callimachus. So

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Lucullus took charge and began by trying to persuade the inhabitants to give up as so many others had done. When they refused he turned the bulk of his forces against the suburb of Eupatoria. Pretending to carry on the siege in a desultory fashion,48 he lured the defenders into carelessness. Then, at an opportune moment, ladders were placed against the wall, the town was stormed and razed to the ground. Turning to the main city, Lucullus again had recourse to the surprise attack. One evening when Callimachus, as was his wont, had taken most of his troops from the wall in order that they might rest, Lucullus mounted an assault and gained possession of part of the rampart. Callimachus, realizing his opponent could not be repelled, pulled out his forces by sea and fired the city behind him to cover his retreat. Lucullus ordered his men to extinguish the flames but they paid him not the slightest heed. With what they had so long wanted at last within reach they clashed their weapons together and demanded to be allowed to exercise the customary right of sacking a city that had been taken by storm. Lucullus had no option but to yield and as the troops set about looting they added to the destruction already begun. It was now night and, as the soldiers went on their way, heedless of the fate of the conquered, the torches they carried started further fires. Only a providential rainstorm saved the town from complete destruction. Lucullus himself tried to repair the damage and restore the town by rebuilding it before he left. He added 120 stadia to its territory and recalled the citizens who had fled, adding to their number any other Greek who might wish to settle there. A group of Athenian exiles who had fled to Amisus to escape the tyranny of Aristion in the First Mithridatic War was now repatriated and each man was supplied with clothing and a stipend for the journey. When he entered the city on the morning after the capture Lucullus is said to have bewailed his fate. He would have been a Sulla who spared Athens. Instead, he had become a Mummius who destroyed Corinth.49 Why was this so? So far as I know, Lucullus never came up with an answer to this hard question, so in due course we shall try to supply our own. At this point what is of primary interest to us is his rather extraordinary behaviour on the present occasion. We are told that among the captives was a certain Tyrannio who was a grammarian. Murena asked for him as a prize and upon obtaining him ostentatiously granted him his liberty. It was

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generally held that this showed Murena to have been cut from a coarser cloth than Lucullus who believed that a learned man like Tyrannio should never have been deprived of his freedom in the first place. Once he had been deprived of his real liberty that which Murena granted him was fictitious. But, as we have just observed, Lucullus did not simply confine himself to displaying a respectful and deferential attitude towards one individual Greek, however distinguished. His benevolence embraced the whole city which he first tried to save from destruction and then to restore. We have long known Lucullus for a philhellene. We now see to what lengths his love could bring him. He lavished a species of Marshall aid on a town that had taken the enemy’s part, long defied him and rejected offers of terms. That it was their Greekness the people of Amisus had to thank for this is brought into sharp relief by the fate of its suburb Eupatoria. This was a barbarian town created by Mithridates and it bore his hated name. As we saw, when it was taken it was levelled to the ground.50 This strict differentiation between Greek and barbarian we shall encounter again. What happened at Heraclea about this time merely serves to underline how lucky the people of Amisus had been in finding the conqueror they did. Since 73 Cotta had been conducting the siege here without much success. Towards the end of that year he had been joined by the far abler Triarius who, in a battle off Tenedos, had fulfilled his charge and made short work of the Mithridatic fleet returning from Spain. However, it was not until now (71) that the town yielded on terms which were at once broken. A general massacre then followed and only the intervention of Triarius prevented a squabble over loot among the Roman forces turning into a pitched battle. 51 After this Triarius and his ships went on to reduce Tieium (Filyos) and Amastris (Amasra).52 This left only Amasia (Amasya) and Sinope in enemy hands and it was against the latter that the Roman war-effort was principally directed. Subordinates had already begun the siege when Lucullus arrived. It was not until early in 70, however, that the place yielded and it may very well be that for part of the winter Lucullus simply left the conduct of operations to those same subordinates while he attended to certain urgent business in the province of Asia, returning only in time for the final surrender.53 The physical location of the town made it seem as if it would present problems to rival those of Cyzicus. Sea attacks were

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impossible because of the steep nature of the shore on which the city rested and the narrowness of the isthmus which connected it to the mainland. Sinope, too, possessed a powerful fleet which brought in grain from the Crimea and was even strong enough to destroy a squadron of Roman ships carrying supplies for the besiegers. However, from the Roman point of view dissension within the town was a most hopeful sign. One of the commanders had entered into negotiations with Lucullus even before his arrival. When this was discovered one of his fellow officers, Cleochares, had him murdered, but so strong was the party of appeasement that he was obliged to govern with a heavy hand and the whole town seethed with discontent. At this juncture Lucullus himself arrived and soon received a welcome messenger. He came from Mithridates’ son Machares and he carried a gold crown and a request that his master be admitted to the friendship of the Romans. Lucullus acceded to the request on condition he divert to Roman use the supplies he was sending to Sinope. Machares complied.54 Inevitably this led to shortage in Sinope which led equally inevitably to hunger and so to increasing bad temper on the part of the inhabitants. Cleochares, realizing his position was becoming untenable, in the early spring of 70 imitated the example of Callimachus at Amisus. Embarking his troops aboard ship, he wrecked the rest of the Sinopean fleet and set fire to the town. Seeing the smoke, the Romans immediately attacked and penetrated the town without encountering resistance, actually slaying part of the Pontic garrison which had not escaped. Here again Lucullus played the civilized man. No general massacre took place, the fires were extinguished and the city was declared to be once more free.55 It was widely believed that Autolycus the patron hero of Sinope actually summoned Lucullus to the city. He was a companion of Hercules who had been driven ashore here, so the legend relates, and taking possession of the place he established an oracle. In a dream a figure appeared to Lucullus, urging him to go forward because Autolycus was waiting for him. The very next day the city yielded and in the hurly-burly of the capture some men were seen carrying a very large parcel. Lucullus ordered the wrappings to be removed, to discover a statue whose features were those of the figure in his dream and to learn for the first

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time that that figure had been Autolycus. And, once more, the disciple of Sulla remembered what his old chief had had to say about divine messages conveyed through this medium. The statue was the work of a famous sculptor, Sthenis, and after this experience Lucullus acquired it for himself along with another work of art, the globe of Billarus.56 With the fall of Amasia soon after Sinope, all of Pontus was now in Roman hands and, with its king a fugitive, Lucullus thus deemed the war to have finished. He returned to Ephesus and there publicly proclaimed this fact. Triumphal sacrifice was offered in thanksgiving for the victory won. Processions, festivals, gladiatorial contests and athletic events were the order of the day and in response the cities inaugurated their own festivals which they called ‘Lucullan’. 57 The seal then seemed to be set on Lucullus’ achievements with his request to Rome that, in accordance with standard practice, they should despatch commissioners to oversee the erection of Pontus into a province.58 We have now to turn from war to peace and to consider what Lucullus did in his own province of Asia at this time.59 Up until now Asia had indeed only seen Lucullus as a defender in war. Now he was to have the opportunity to practise the arts of peace. His first task seems to have been to attend to the governor’s judicial functions which, of necessity, he had had to neglect. So he went on a visitation of the circuits (conventus) into which the province was divided.60 Next, now that the war was ended, the problem of paying for it had to be addressed. The Romans, of course, held firmly to the principle that those who were friends and allies of Rome should come to her aid when called. Lucullus himself showed his own strict adherence to this viewpoint when, in 73, he rejected a donative from the senate to build a fleet and instead elected to call upon the allies to meet their obligations and supply the necessary ships. 61 However, the Romans also accepted that, in return for the revenues raised in a province, they were responsible for the maintenance of the army that defended that province and the governor who led it. Hence we have the governor’s allowance or ornatio provincial which, in theory, was supposed to meet all his expenses. In practice, of course, a long war such as that of Lucullus would strain the purse and recourse would have to be had to other methods to supplement income. Requisitioning was

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one and Lucullus did not hesitate to employ it. Hence, for instance, the long line of laden Galatians who followed him on the road to Amisus. A common practice, too, was billeting but Lucullus studiously avoided it to the great anger of his troops who, in consequence, had to spend their winters under canvas. Their commander had seen what Sulla’s men had got up to in Asia in 85 and he had no desire to visit his beloved Greeks with anything similar again. A commander, also, might draw on his booty but in the one instance we know of where Lucullus may have used this source he actually applied the monies to underwrite another’s campaign. When in 67 Pompey made war on the pirates Lucullus lent him money to finance his campaigns. By this time the always-strained relations between the two had worsened even more and we certainly could not see in Lucullus’ loan a gesture of goodwill or reconciliation since he had no option but to pay up. The terms of Pompey’s command allowed him to collect expenses from the provinces and so, when he asked, Lucullus was obliged to give.62 Some, however, believe that Lucullus strictly reserved the booty for himself, the treasury and his men. If that is so then there is but one source from which Pompey’s donative will have come, his emergency taxes. Neither the principle of an emergency tax nor the types levied by Lucullus were new and, in fact, both were already well known in the Hellenistic kingdoms. So, it was in imitation of practices found under the Seleucids and the Attalids that he imposed a tax of 25 per cent on crops, while other taxes were put on slaves and property to defray the costs of the war.63 However, it was not Lucullus’ measures to ensure that Asia paid for its own defence that earned him the gratitude of the provincials and, it should be said, the respect of historians ever since. Rather, it was what he did to rid the province of a crushing burden of debt under which it had laboured since 85. Let us very briefly recapitulate the story. Sulla had levied a large sum of money on Asia. When he left in 84 part of this had been paid and the rest was collected by Lucullus before his own departure.64 The cities of Asia were not able to meet their obligations from their own resources and so they had to borrow. With the end of the First Mithridatic War the Roman banker soon made his reappearance in the East and he was accompanied by the publicani whose main business was to collect the regular taxes but who were obviously not averse to issuing loans on the side. It was to these people that

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the provincials had to turn in order to obtain the sums they needed. They indeed got them but only at exorbitant rates of interest. Some argue that a shortage of capital and the high risk involved in a dangerous area justified these charges but others incline to the bleaker view that pure undiluted greed was at work here. But, whatever the reasons for these rates, the cities had to mortgage every piece of public property such as theatres, gymnasia and harbours in order to get their money.65 Thus while cities were able to pay to the Roman state what she demanded they did so by putting themselves in thrall to merciless private individuals.66 The high rate of compound interest meant they were unable to clear the debt. By the winter of 71 it was calculated that the amount actually borrowed had been repaid twice over, and yet the enormous sum of 120,000 talents was still outstanding. According to one account, things had come to such a pass that people were selling off votive offerings, statues and works of art to service the debt. There were reports too of acts of physical violence and of men being sold into slavery.67 Aside from the fact that this situation was a scandal in itself it carried with it grave dangers. The Asiatic Vespers showed what could happen if the provincials were pushed too far. But this new generation of entrepreneurs recked not the lessons of the recent past, despite some ominous signs. When Mithridates invaded in 74 the cities had shown signs of restlessness and of wanting to greet him as a saviour, and, about this time, when publicani arrived to exploit the newly conquered Heraclea they so maddened the townsfolk that they, in a repeat of the scenes of 88, turned on them and killed them.68 Lucullus had never made any secret of where his sympathies lay. Though he had been Sulla’s collecting agent long ago, he did what he could to mitigate the harshness of his task and, just before setting out on his own campaigns, he warned the publicani to moderate their behaviour. These, of course, were at best palliatives but when Lucullus had, as now, the necessary power and the leisure-time in which to employ it, he set about putting an end to the problem once and for all. His intent was embodied in four measures. Henceforth the monthly rate of interest was to be 1 per cent, and no more. Interest that exceeded the amount of the principal was to be written off. A creditor might take no more than one quarter of the debtor’s income in any one year. Finally, anyone caught adding interest to principal would forfeit the lot.

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The effect of these measures was swift, salutary and wholesome. Presented now with a manageable debt that they could pay the cities of Asia cleared it within less than four years and received back their property unencumbered.69 For the biographer there is little else to say. One can only join in the paean of praise with which Lucullus’ reforms have ever been greeted. If this represents one of the finest expressions of Lucullus’ philhellenism it is also a tribute to his basic decency as a person. Of course, not everybody joined in the chorus of praise. The publicani, predictably, were enraged. Some scholars believe that Lucullus was being very brave in provoking these people, especially as the reforms of 70 meant the equites once more had a place on juries and would be ready with a charge of repetundae. Personally, I doubt if he looked at the matter in this way at all. Whatever developments there might be at Rome at this time and however unpleasing they might be to a man of Lucullus’ political outlook, they would not serve to undermine his personal position as it then was. The war was over and all that remained to be done before going home was to capture Mithridates. Lucullus was optimistic about this last and in the next chapter we shall see why. Once it was accomplished, of course, he could return to Rome a victor in a g reat campaign and display Rome’s redoubtable foe in his triumph. It would be very hard then for anybody to level charges at the man who had conquered Mithridates. But even now Appius Claudius Pulcher was on the road to Ephesus bearing a message that would change everything. Mithridates could only be captured by renewing and widening the war Lucullus had just declared to be over. The vicissitudes of that war in turn were to give the equites the opportunity they now lacked. In a little while, Lucullus, who at this point seemed so secure, was to fall victim to the advantage they took of the difficulties he was soon to encounter.

VI Confronting the king: the war with Tigranes

Though immersed in the affairs of Asia, Lucullus had never for a moment lost sight of his last great objective: the capture of Mithridates. Now in 70 the return of an envoy was eagerly awaited. In the previous year, shortly before he returned to the coast to deal with Amisus, Lucullus had despatched his brother-inlaw to the Ar menian cour t to request the sur render of Mithridates.1 The situation, in point of fact, was a somewhat delicate one. In the past Tigranes, who had an unhealthy interest in the place, had committed acts against Rome’s satellite Cappadocia which could be construed as hostile. On the last occasion, in 77, he had made a swift raid on the kingdom and carted off part of the population to people his new capital, Tigranocerta. But in the present war his attitude could only be described as correct. He had given no aid whatsoever to Mithridates and had done no more for him than the bare minimum when he turned up in Armenia as a fugitive. When, as in the case of Cappadocia, he saw some advantage to himself then plainly he was quite willing to become embroiled in Mithridates’ quarrels with Rome. But otherwise he appears to have reached the conclusion that, as a matter of general policy, it were best to maintain neutrality. However, to presume from this neutrality, as Lucullus appears to have presumed, that Tigranes could, in one way or another, be induced to yield his son-in-law was to presume rather a lot. 2 In the course of the negotiations the king himself was to say that to do so would shame him before the whole world.3 Plainly the situation called for the exercise of certain qualities such as tact and finesse, for instance, but these Lucullus proved unable to supply. In his letter requesting the extradition of 99

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Mithridates, Lucullus addressed Tigranes as ‘King’. This could not but be interpreted as an insult by a man who styled himself ‘King of Kings’ and who was actually waited upon by vassal kings whom he had conquered. So it happened that when Tigranes came to make reply he repaid Lucullus with his own base coin by omitting his title of imperator.4 One excuse that might be advanced for Lucullus’ needlessly provocative behaviour might be that he was simply ignorant of whom he was dealing with. A similar argument has sometimes been used to explain Sulla’s insulting behaviour to a Parthian embassy some twenty years before. Both suggestions fall to the ground for precisely the same reason: they are based on the supposition that men of Sulla’s and Lucullus’ intelligence would not have bothered to find out about the nature of the power they were dealing with. Tigranes was certainly not a man to be treated lightly or carelessly. He had come to the throne of Armenia about 95 and almost immediately had embarked on a ser ies of conquests. Sophene on the eastern bank of the Euphrates was the first to fall to him. Then he took from the Parthians all of northern Mesopotamia from the Euphrates to the mountains on the border of Media Atropatene. Next, Syr ia and Cilicia Campestris fell to his arms and in the region of Transcaucasia the Albanians and Iberians became his vassals. Lucullus was dealing with a monarch whose dominions stretched from the Caspian to the Mediterranean and whose title ‘King of Kings’ was plainly no empty and pompous boast.5 The natural conclusion to draw from this would seem to be that Lucullus, of set purpose, was trying to start yet another war with a great power. But it would not be the right one. Lucullus had good reasons of his own for avoiding further adventures. Strictly speaking, the terms of his command would probably allow him, as we saw in our last chapter, to pursue Mithridates into Armenia but such a move might not necessarily be a wise one. Developments at home, of which the commander was well aware, meant that political and not strategic considerations would dominate any debate on his action and, suffice to say for the moment, that these developments were of a sort that might not guarantee a favourable outcome to that debate. A man who, as we argued, was unassailable as a conquering hero, might begin to look very vulnerable if he turned himself into a militar y adventurer. In any case, Lucullus himself furnished the clearest

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proofs that, so far from planning war, he was not even expecting one. His victory celebrations and his call for commissioners were surely the acts of a man for whom fighting was at an end. Quite simply, he seems to have believed there would be no problem at all where Tigranes was concerned and this is vividly illustrated by his chagrined remark when Appius eventually returned emptyhanded: he was amazed Tigranes should wait until Mithridates was crushed before joining him in war on Rome. The king had acted clean contrary to Lucullus’ expectations.6 We have now, of course, to offer some reason for Lucullus’ having so badly misjudged the situation. Why was it he did not know what it was he asked and why did he not realize it was likely to be refused? One salient feature of his career to date had been the sensitivity he showed in dealing with Greeks and, correspondingly, the harshness he visited upon non-Greeks. Tigranes, for all the superficial veneer of Hellenic culture he had acquired, was, of course, an oriental king. He was a barbarian ruler who was hated by many of his Greek subjects because of his despotic ways. So, as with any other barbarians, Lucullus found it impossible to achieve empathy with somebody like the Armenian king, or, indeed, to understand him in any way. As a direct consequence he knew of only one way of dealing with him. There would be no deference to susceptibilities that Lucullus could not comprehend in any case. Instead, he would proceed as the Romans had always proceeded with such people. The best way to achieve results from an oriental monarch was to apply the heavy hand. Oriental kings must obey the command of a Roman and that was that. This was a method which in the recent past had worked for Sulla, and Pompey was to employ it with good results not long after this; Lucullus, however, lacked their skill and finesse, and in Tigranes he found a king who would not play the part assigned him.7 Lucullus’ choice of envoy merely underscores his resolve that Tigranes should be informed of the will of Rome with which he would then automatically comply forthwith. Appius Claudius Pulcher was not the man to be overawed by a monarch, however magnificent, or to tiptoe around him with a delicate tread. His initial impressions of the king were not particularly favourable for, on his journey, he discovered that the royal guides were leading him by roundabout paths across the Armenian plateau and when he at last arrived at his destination, Antioch in Syria, he was

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informed he needs must wait as the king was away. Now, Tigranes had good reason for being absent since he was at that moment engaged in war in Phoenicia but both his action and that of his minions could have a certain construction put on them. A message was being delivered to the Romans: they were not as great in the eyes of Tigranes as they were in their own. Let their envoy not hurry, for the king would not put to one side more important concerns so that he might meet with him. I do not know if Tigranes intended his actions to be interpreted in this way but it would certainly seem that some such construction was put on them by Appius. If I am right in assuming that Lucullus was not consciously looking for war, what Pulcher did next can only be seen as an act of personal revenge for the insult to Rome’s (and his own) dignity.8 He passed his enforced leisure in meddling and tampering with the loyalty of the subject princes who were then present at court. When, at last, Tigranes returned and granted audience, Appius treated him as the Claudii did the rest of humanity: with disdain. He told Tigranes shortly that either he disgorge Mithridates or he would have on his hands a war with Rome. Tigranes, we are assured, was rocked by this bluntness. One of our sources, who has much to say about his oriental pomposity, recounts with glee that it was the first time in over a quarter of a century that anybody had spoken to him thus plainly. Nevertheless, regal composure was maintained and the king continued to smile as he had from the start of the interview. He assured Appius that he had no intention whatsoever of surrendering Mithridates and if the Romans proposed to attack then they would find he knew how to defend himself. The niceties of diplomacy were completed when Tigranes offered Appius an array of gifts. In a gesture strongly reminiscent of his brother-in-law’s at the court of Ptolemy years before Appius contented himself with accepting one bowl before heading back to tell Lucullus Tigranes was proving difficult.9 It is sometimes claimed that Lucullus next cast about for some excuse in order to justify the assault he now determined to make on Armenia. Reports in our ancient sources that Tigranes and Mithridates at this time were planning an invasion of Lycaonia and Cilicia or that Tigranes had furnished his father-in-law with a force to attack Pontus are dismissed by those who hold this theory. In their opinion these are mere inventions devised by

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Lucullus in order to provide that pretext which they believe he must have sought. Tigranes, they say, actually made no hostile move until he was attacked.10 Whatever surface plausibility it has, this theory must be rejected since it is definitely grounded on a misunderstanding of Lucullus’ position and, at the same time, almost certainly misjudges Tigranes’ likely reaction to Appius’ frank talk. In point of fact, Lucullus did not need to look for any excuse. From the Roman point of view he was completely justified in going over to the offensive. Tigranes was harbouring an enemy of Rome. He had been given a clear choice: surrender that enemy or face a war. The king had chosen war and so war it would be. True, Lucullus would rather not have fought and had not expected the answer he got but that consideration is irrelevant. He had left himself with absolutely no room for manœvre. If he wanted to lay hands on Mithridates and, incidentally, avoid becoming an object of derision to foreign and domestic enemies as one who made threats he could not deliver on, then there was nothing for it but to take up arms.11 So far as Tigranes was concerned, it was but logical that after the interview with Appius he should immediately summon Mithridates to court. The whole purpose of keeping him at a distance had been to avoid giving offence to the Romans and thus maintain Armenian neutrality. But as we just saw this was not enough to satisfy Lucullus. The policy was plainly a failure and so there was no point whatsoever in going on with it. The three-day interview of reconciliation between Mithridates and Tigranes which resulted in the physical destruction of those courtiers who had urged neutrality on the Armenian king was the direct consequence of Appius’ blunt threats. Since he was now held to be at war with Rome Tigranes, as a matter of course, reversed his policies and made common cause with Mithridates. And, since the Romans had made no secret of what they would do, we may credit Tigranes with the initiative to plan a preemptive strike. Hence the despatch of Mithridates to Pontus and the plans to invade Lycaonia and Cilicia.12 Lucullus, however, proved to be too quick for his opponent. Leaving the new province of Pontus in the charge of his legate Sornatius, he advanced rapidly through Cappadocia and came to the Euphrates at a place now called Isogli while it was yet winter (early 69). This unseasonable move took Tigranes completely by

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surprise. Having planned his own campaign to begin in the spring, he was still at Tigranocerta when he heard of Lucullus’ hostile move. The man who brought the news was executed for his pains. Tigranes had discovered what Appius had been up to and believed this report was simply designed to unsettle his subjects further. It is almost superfluous to add that after this nobody else bothered to bring news of the Romans to Tigranes. All he heard were the words of flatterers who agreed with him that the story simply could not be true. Lucullus, they said, would be doing very well if he were simply able to defend Ephesus from an Armenian attack. Meanwhile, at the Euphrates, Lucullus found that, because of his unseasonable advance, the river was still swollen with winter floods. Towards evening, however, the level began to fall and by the next day it had become perfectly fordable. The inhabitants of the region said this was a rare occurrence and making obeisance declared that the river-god had, of his own volition, lowered the water for him. In gratitude Lucullus sacrificed a bull to the deity. Upon crossing to the other side of the river he received a further mark of divine favour in the form of yet another suicidal sacred heifer. A number of these animals pastured in the neighbourhood. They were sacred to the Perso-Babylonian goddess Anahita whom the Greeks styled ‘Persian Artemis’. The heifers had the reputation of being extremely hard to catch but now one of them obligingly presented herself to Lucullus at a place sacred to the goddess and was duly sacrificed. In thus honouring a new and unfamiliar goddess, Lucullus seems, as was usual among the Romans, to have identified her with a member of his own pantheon—in this case Diana of Aricia—and, upon his return to Italy, gave thanks once more with a dedication at her shrine. Now, after turning over the nearby fortress of Tomisa to the king of Cappadocia in acknowledgement of his services, Lucullus marched through Sophene.13 As this was a barbarous region we might, in the light of recent events, assume that Lucullus would allow his troops to plunder. But he did not and in fact took from the inhabitants only what was strictly needful. On one occasion when his troops wished to attack a castle that they believed contained treasure he pointed to the Taurus mountains and told them this was the fortress they should storm. This moderation was of set purpose. The events at Rome to which we have alluded and which we shall expound

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fully in due course made it imperative that Lucullus, if at all possible, should avoid becoming mired down in Armenia. In making war on Mithridates, Lucullus had enjoyed the enthusiastic support of all classes in Rome and so had been able to pursue a policy of attrition with the conquest of territory as its object. But now, with many questioning the wisdom of an attack on Tigranes at all, there could be no question of conquering land. Rather, there could be but one aim: the swift capture of Mithridates. That, so Lucullus seems to have reasoned, would best be done by inflicting a great defeat on Tigranes as soon as possible. Still clinging to the view that a powerful demonstration of Roman might would bring Tigranes to a better attitude, Lucullus pressed on through Sophene with all speed. Thus, all the Roman commander really desired of the inhabitants of this region was free passage and neutrality. This they readily gave. Lucullus, I have suggested, had not authorized Appius Claudius to subvert the loyalty of Tigranes’ subjects but it is possible that he was here reaping the benefit of his brother-in-law’s initiative. One source certainly says that, although the king’s subjects, these people saw the present war as something that concerned Tigranes and Lucullus alone. It was not one in which they felt any need to become involved.14 There is no doubt as to where Lucullus was headed. Like a good boxer aiming for a knock-out blow, he made for the head and directed his march straight for the new capital of Tigranocerta (Silvan)15 which Tigranes had just built. His forced marches brought Lucullus to the Tigris and once over the river he was in Armenia proper. At this point one of the nobles at Tigranes’ court, Mithrobarzanes by name, decided that, whatever the risk, somebody would have to tell the king what was happening. So he informed his master that the Romans were coming. Evidently struck by his courage, Tigranes decided Mithrobarzanes was the man to stop them. He was given a force and his orders: destroy the Roman army but bring its general back alive. The Ar menian encountered Lucullus as he was preparing to make camp. As not all of the Roman troops had yet come up, their commander feared lest Mithrobarzanes seize the opportunity presented by their separation to make an attack. So he sent forward the legate Sextilius to conduct a blocking operation until such time as the main body of the army should be encamped. Sextilius did his best but his hand was forced when

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his opponent charged him. The subsequent battle proved to be a disaster for the Ar menians who were cut to pieces with Mithrobarzanes himself among the fallen. Upon hearing of this reverse, Tigranes put the defence of Tigranocerta into the hands of another noble, Mancaeus, and headed for the Taurus mountains to raise his forces proper. Lucullus despatched Murena and Sextilius to do what they could to spoil these plans. Their efforts were crowned with a measure of success. Sextilius defeated and slew a large body of Arabs who were coming to join the muster. Murena attacked the king himself when his men were strung out as they passed through a narrow gorge. Many were slain or captured and Tigranes himself fled, leaving his baggage behind.16 Lucullus, meanwhile, had pushed on and put Tigranocerta under siege. This proved to be a somewhat uncomfortable experience. The defenders numbered among them many skilful archers who readily gave displays of their talents. There were also in the city people who had a certain facility with naphtha and they poured it in liberal doses over the Roman siege-machines. Nevertheless, Lucullus persisted. Tigranes, he knew, would come with his army and would, he reckoned, out of anxiety for his beloved city give him the battle he wanted. Mithridates believed, however, that Tigranes should under no circumstances offer battle. He had been summoned back to Tigranes’ side when Lucullus’ intentions became clear and had perforce to abandon his expedition to Pontus. At this time he was still on the road. Progress had been leisurely because he mistakenly believed Lucullus was going to apply against the Armenian king the same tactics of attrition that had been used against himself. The best way to counter this was not by a set battle but by turning Roman tactics against themselves. Cavalry should be used, as he had once tried to use it, to cut off the enemy from their supplies and so starve them out. He conveyed a message to this effect to Tigranes and urged him to avoid a head-on confrontation. The king by this time had gathered an enormous army and with it he crossed the Taurus to confront Lucullus. His first move was to send forward 6,000 horse to rescue his concubines and treasures which were shut up in a fortress next to the city. Coming by night, they broke through the Roman siege-line and, with their dreaded archery, penned up their adversaries. They then entered the fortress and carried away the women and the money.

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At dawn the Romans, aided by Thracian auxiliary cavalry, went in pursuit. They killed many of the foe and took more prisoner but they were unable to recover the booty. Tigranes now took up position on some slopes near the city. Lucullus, after holding a council of war, left part of his army under Murena to continue the siege. With the rest he marched forth to do battle. Tigranes at first had been minded to heed Mithridates’ advice but now he gave ear to the whisperers who clustered so thickly round his court as they intimated that the Pontic king had given his advice out of malignancy so that Tigranes might not have a great victory. Indeed, Mithridates’ general Taxiles, who was present in the camp and whose experience of the Romans equalled that of his master, went in peril of his life when he continued to advise inaction. The evidence of his own eyes certainly seemed to justify Tigranes’ aggressive intent. In full view of the enemy Lucullus had taken up his position in the plain with a river to his front and the army he thus deployed seemed pitifully small indeed. So tiny did it appear in comparison with their own great host that the Armenians began to despise him. Jests flew thick and fast and individual generals begged to be allowed to crush the Romans with but a portion of their own huge numbers. They assured Tigranes that he himself need do nothing except sit and watch the sport. The king himself joined in the fun and produced an epig ram that was destined to be long remembered. The Romans, he said, were too many to be an embassy but too few to be an army. 17 Then, on the morning of 6 October 69, this contemptible little army began to move at top speed. The Armenians were to the east of the river but the best ford lay on a westward bend and it was to this point that Lucullus was now leading his men. To the watching Tigranes it seemed as if they were retreating as quickly as they could. Taxiles, by his side, knew better. The glittering armour that they saw was not that of men on the march, for which their equipment was then covered, but of men about to attack. When he had recovered from his surprise Tigranes in haste drew up his forces. He himself took the centre, assigning the left to the king of the Adiabeni and the right to the king of the Medes. For the Romans the 6th of October was an unlucky day—one of the times of ill-omen when the gods might not smile on those giving battle, since on that date in 105 a Roman

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army had been totally destroyed by a Germanic horde at Arausio (Orange). When some of Lucullus’ officers mentioned this, he, confident in the auspices he had received, simply explained that they now had the chance to make of it a lucky day. As he crossed the river Lucullus observed that the enemy’s mail-clad horsemen were drawn up before the infantry on the right wing and it was here he determined to attack. Despatching his Thracian and Gallic cavalry, he bade them fall on the enemy flank for it was at this point alone that the armoured troops were vulnerable. Lucullus’ cavalry duly engaged the foe and, by pretending to retreat, drew a part of them across the plain. This gave Lucullus and two cohorts of infantry the opportunity to seize unnoticed the hill which lay behind the Armenian ranks. Standing on its highest point he yelled, ‘The day is ours, men’ and charged the enemy below. The first target was the baggage train. This crashed into the infantry and the infantry crashed into the cavalry. Lucullus then ordered his men to make an attack on the latter’s flank. But it was unnecessary. All along the line the enemy cavalry had begun to flee. The horse previously despatched by Lucullus had by this time turned on their pursuers and cut them to pieces. Now, with Lucullus’ main infantry line fully formed and approaching close to avoid the arrows and with him and his detachment still attacking, the enemy could turn nowhere but into their own ranks. All along the line panic spread as they were thrown into confusion, and confusion soon turned into rout as the densely packed mass tried to flee with the Romans in pursuit. Tigranes was one of the first to bolt, handing his diadem to his son who passed it on to a slave who, in turn, was captured by the Romans still carrying it. When the pursuit was done Lucullus permitted his men to plunder.18 It was the lateness of the season that cut short the pursuit. Lucullus, therefore, decided to devote his energies to the reduction of Tigranocerta. Within the city Mancaeus began to be uneasy about the attitude of his Greek mercenaries and had them disarmed. They, however, equipped themselves with makeshift clubs and resisted when the royal troops came to arrest them. Next they seized part of the city walls, called to the Romans, and helped them in scaling it. So Tigranocerta fell. Lucullus reserved the royal treasures for himself but gave the rest of the city to the sack. Over and above what he could grab in this general scramble each soldier received from his commander the sum of 800

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drachmas. Then Lucullus literally set about taking the place apart. Tigranocerta was an artificial creation of Tigranes who had desired something more fitting than the old and remote Armenian capital Artaxata (Artashat) as the head of his empire. Lucullus now determined to reduce the place once more to the village it had but lately been. So, all of the magnificent public buildings and palaces were ruthlessly pulled down. The population, too, had been created artificially. Tigranes had simply transported Greeks and barbarians from various parts of his empire in order to fill his creation. These men Lucullus now returned to their homes. In many instances, cities had been virtually depopulated by Tigranes’ demands and, as their sons returned, they hailed Lucullus with titles of benefactor and founder. In Tigranocerta, too, Lucullus discovered a theatre that had been just built. Tigranes, in keeping with his veneer of Hellenism, had gathered a great crowd of artistes for its dedication. Before demolishing this place along with everything else, Lucullus had the artistes perform there in a celebration of his own victory. And so thoroughly was the work of destruction carried out that Tigranocerta never again became a place of any great consequence.19 In antiquity praise was heaped on Lucullus for his victory at Tigranocerta. His philosopher friend, Antiochus, who incidentally was soon to die, said, with some exaggeration perhaps, that the sun had never looked down on the like. Strabo reported that the Romans, in retrospect, saw that they had been fighting with slaves and were ashamed. For Livy there was no other battle in which his countrymen had been at such a numerical disadvantage. Plutarch also noted that military men at Rome commended Lucullus for his flexibility. Mithridates he had destroyed by delay, Tigranes by speed.20 Yet this fine piece of soldiering had failed in its primary objective. Like a poker player filling to an inside straight, Lucullus had gambled against high odds and lost for now, just as before, Tigranes would not yield Mithridates. The two kings, in fact, had a tearful reunion shortly after the battle and the Armenian, thoroughly humbled by his recent shattering experience, turned the conduct of the war over to his once despised son-in-law on the grounds that he had the more extensive experience of dealing with the Romans. With that stamina and resilience which were the hallmarks of his long career Mithridates immediately began to recruit another army and forged weapons for it in factories throughout Armenia. The new

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force was to be staffed with Pontic officers and, once more, the Roman legions were to be its model.21 Thus the work of demolishing Tigranocerta both symbolized and marked the beginning of a new phase in Lucullus’ war with Armenia. As the great blow had clearly not brought Tigranes’ submission Lucullus now determined to do to his empire what he was at this very moment doing to its capital, namely dismember it. Acutely aware that he was becoming ever more mired in warfare in this region, Lucullus strove to minimize the dangers attendant on this project. He sought no territorial gains, made no effort to create a province but instead set about detaching Tigranes’ discontented vassals from their allegiance and making of them clients of Rome. At the sack of Tigranocerta he had won golden opinions by saving the wives of some of the principal men from rape and he now reaped the benefit when a number of rulers clove to his side. Antiochus (king of Commagene), the Sopheni (through whose kingdom Lucullus had marched) and a number of other chieftains all came to treat. In Syria Tigranes’ general had been recalled. The Seleucid Antiochus XIII seized the opportunity thus offered and placed himself on his ancestral throne. It hardly needs to be added that Lucullus gave his benediction to this move. The accession of Gordyene was not without a cer tain poignancy. Its king, Zarbienus, had been one of those who heeded Appius, and when Tigranes found out what he was doing he had the whole royal family wiped out. Now when Lucullus marched into this country he duly performed funeral rites for the dead monarch. He decked a pyre with spoils taken from Tigranes and setting fire to it he poured libations, while calling the dead man an ally of Rome. He then ordered a costly monument to be erected to his memory. This last, however, did not cost the Romans a penny for they had possessed themselves of the treasury of their dead friend. They had also found a store of 3 million bushels of grain and so they passed the winter of 69/68 in Gordyene.22 By this time events in Rome had begun to preoccupy Lucullus and so, in consequence, they must now preoccupy us. If we were to measure the power wielded by Lucullus by the extent of territory assigned him by the state to be governed over then we might say, with some justice, that 71 witnessed his peak. In that year, in addition to the other provinces he held, Bithynia was put

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into his hands after Cotta, having reduced Heraclea, retired from the fray and returned to Rome.23 The story of the downfall of Lucullus is the story of the dismember ment of this great command. The process took time to mature but it began early. Soon after the fall of Cabira strange stories began to circulate in Rome. We know that when Mithridates took refuge with Tigranes it made good sense to reduce the rest of Pontus while, at the same time, trying to lay hands on the fugitive by diplomatic means. However, by the time word of these operations got to Rome they had acquired rather a different complexion. It was claimed that Lucullus had allowed the king to slip away not for military or other good reasons but simply because of his own eagerness to get hold of the treasures stored up in the kingdom. These charges bear a certain resemblance to the complaints of Lucullus’ own troops that he was not prosecuting the war with sufficient vigour and it is not, therefore, rash to suggest that dinner-party gossip mirrored the gripes of the ranker. They also bring to mind the story of the ass laden with gold which Mithridates once shoved in front of his pursuers. Cicero, who preserves the accusation for us, saw fit to adorn this tale with a frigid conceit. He likened Mithridates to Medea who scattered the limbs of her brother before her pursuing father.24 Although we are dealing with patent concoctions they are, nevertheless, powerful concoctions and they created now the enduring myth that Lucullus was a mean and avaricious man who would do anything for money. As late as AD 30 Vellius Paterculus for example could describe Lucullus as a man admirable in many ways but undoubtedly driven by a lust for coin.25 With the invasion of Armenia the accusation of avarice was amplified, elaborated and had added to it other charges. If asked about it, and if willing to give an honest opinion, then most Romans would probably have agreed with Lucullus’ moralistic view that somebody who harboured an enemy of Rome must be treated as an enemy himself. In our own day debate has centred on the legal question of whether or not Lucullus had proper authority for attacking Tigranes. The answer is usually in the negative. 26 But I dissent. When we discussed his invasion of Pontus we discovered no specific law permitting him to attack but neither did we find any reprimand. It was, therefore, deduced that the nature of Lucullus’ brief was such as to allow him to

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make war on Mithr idates where he would. The necessary dispensation from the Lex Cornelia de maiestate had been obtained before he left Rome. Thus, logically, it ought to follow that, if the situation required pursuing Mithridates further and into Armenia, then, from the lawyers’ standpoint this campaign was as acceptable as that into Pontus.27 But, as I hinted earlier, it was not a dispassionate judgement on the correctness of his action that Lucullus had to fear but rather a chorus of slander. Some of the charges are in detail sometimes contradictory but they all add up to one thing: here was a magistrate who was abusing his powers. From what we have seen, there is, at least, some kind of justification for those who tried to claim that Lucullus had actually provoked Tigranes. That is one construction that could, however mistakenly, be put upon his handling of the king. It is very difficult though, to see what, save malignancy, might have turned his successful wooing of native princes into an operation that frightened many subject peoples into taking up arms at his approach. Evidently, some did not agree with the view that Lucullus should not have made war on Tigranes. At any rate there were those who professed to believe he should have made a more thorough job of it. This was the second time Lucullus had let a king slip away after inflicting a great defeat on him, and the motive was clear to his detractors at least. The proconsul was deliberately prolonging the war in order to increase his own glory. But most grotesque of all was the suggestion that Lucullus had not invaded Armenia in pursuit of Mithridates but to commit sacrilege. Money-grabber that he was, he had heard of some temple or other there that was stuffed with treasure and he determined it should be his.28 The fount and origin of these tales is not difficult to discover. By the standards of the ancient world communications between Asia and Rome seem to have been fairly satisfactory. We hear of a stream of letters from the publicani detailing and complaining of conditions in the province and we also know that the Roman armies had some kind of regular postal service.29 Nevertheless, we should ever be aware that their system fell very short indeed of the kind of comprehensive service we enjoy today. Therefore, given the distance involved and the general ignorance of the area, we should not be surprised if many people simply failed to appreciate the considerable difficulties Lucullus faced and saw only a war that appeared to be endless. Moreover, whether a

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report come slow or fast, be it full or skimpy, it is ever at the mercy of the professional or amateur commentator. The barbershop strategist and the coffee-house general are hardy creatures who flourish in even the most rigorous climes and there is no reason to suppose they were not to be found at Rome. Those who would win a cheap reputation for cleverness would have no difficulty in imputing motives of varying degrees of unworthiness to the man in the field. But idle and cynical talk remains but idle and cynical talk until it is taken up and utilized by people who have the will and the capacity to make of it a political weapon. Thus when the murmurings about Mithridates’ escape first began to be heard in late 72 they did Lucullus no damage. Undoubtedly he had enemies in the senate and it is likely, too, that men anxious to advance their careers will not have been best pleased at his prolonged and extensive command which deprived them of potential provinces. 30 The east with Mithridates about had, a few years before, seemed a not-unattractive prospect. Now, with the Pontic king removed, it had acquired an even greater allure. But, such was Lucullus’ popularity and such was his success, that nothing could be done for the moment. It was not until this very winter of 69/68 that the first dent was put in his good fortune. By this time he had acquired a new and very dangerous set of enemies indeed. His provincial reforms in Asia had enraged the publicani and with their first-class courier service they at once informed their brethren at home about what he had done. The latter were not slow to act. When Lucullus launched his invasion of Armenia they put themselves at the head of the herd of his detractors and loudly denounced the campaign. Then, after the battle of Tigranocerta, they appear to have calculated that the time was now right to move from talk to action. Had Lucullus been able to carry out his plan of a swift campaign culminating in a heavy blow to Tigranes and the subsequent immediate surrender of Mithridates then all complaints would be drowned out in the universal acclaim accorded the man who had destroyed Rome’s mighty foe. As it was, with the Roman army bogged down in Gordyene and both Mithridates and Tigranes still at large raising yet another army, a patina of verisimilitude could be added to a claim that Lucullus was wantonly prolonging the war for his own selfish ends and that claim might now be used to cause him some real trouble for the first time.

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From the outset the publicani recognized the importance of the tribunes for their campaign. This was a venal age, a time when br ibery was virtually commonplace in public life. So the financiers simply dipped into their large money-bags and bought themselves some tribunes to add their voices to the initial protests. Now a further use could be found for these tools. The struggle over the tribunate had come to an end in 70 with the restoration of full powers to that office. Thus the pensioners of the publicani were able to lay before the people a proposal that the province of Asia be taken from Lucullus. The plebs, ever fickle, were by this time convinced that Lucullus really was dragging out the war and so were ready to pare him back. Thus the bill was passed into law and Asia was returned to the government of pro-praetors early in 68.31 To further increase Lucullus’ discomfort, one of the praetors of that year was an old enemy, L.Quinctius. This was the man, it will be remembered, whom he had squashed back in 74 during agitation over the tribunate. Obviously he had good reason for wishing to do Lucullus an injury and he readily mouthed slogans like those of the publicani. Lucullus, he said, was prolonging the war out of love of gain and glory. He had come not to conquer Tigranes but to strip him. But, though he was plainly of the same mind as the publicani, we cannot say for certain if Quinctius, like so many others, became their pensioner. His refusal of a bribe from Lucullus, who desperately tried in this way to stifle his agitation, may therefore be attributed, with equal plausibility, to hatred, satiety or integrity. One thing is certain: Quinctius worked hard at his mining and he had his reward. Some time in the course of the year he succeeded in having another province taken from Lucullus. Q.Marcius Rex, one of the consuls of 68, was assigned Cilicia. Of this brother-in-law of Lucullus (he had married another Clodia-Tertia) it need only be said here that he was of small ability and, on his arrival in the East in 67, was to show himself no particular friend of Lucullus.32 However, we must return to Gordyene and the winter of 69/ 68 where we find the pro-consul wrestling with a fresh problem. To Lucullus it must have seemed he was warring with the Hydra. No sooner had he disposed of one head of state than another came to take its place. The latest manifestation was Phraates II the king of Parthia. In their plight Tigranes and Mithridates had looked to him for help. Years before when the

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Armenian king had been the coming man he had taken from the Parthians a region known as ‘the seventy valleys’. Now in the days of desperation he offered to return the area to Phraates in exchange for his help. When Lucullus learned what was happening he promptly sent ambassadors of his own to the Parthian court. Once before Rome and Parthia had had contact when, in 96, Sulla concluded a treaty with the then king, Mithridates II. But this treaty had long lapsed since neither side had had any dealings with each other. Present circumstances now urgently dictated that they be renewed. Lucullus seems to have learnt something from his dealings with Tigranes. While unable to refrain from making lurid threats as to what he would do if Phraates did not co-operate, he at the same time struck a gentler note and promised all sorts of good things should the king become Rome’s ally. The Parthians responded with an embassy of their own and a treaty was concluded. As in the days of Sulla, the Euphrates was fixed as the boundary between the two powers and it was also agreed that the Parthians should make an attack on Armenia. The legate Sextilius was then sent to Parthia to co-ordinate the war effort. There he made a horrifying discovery: Phraates had also concluded an alliance with Tigranes and Mithridates. Seemingly Sextilius was unable to hide his emotions because soon afterwards he was ejected from the court on the grounds that he was a spy. Lucullus’ anger at this double-dealing can well be imagined. He must have longed to show Phraates, as he had shown Tigranes, that he was not in the habit of making empty threats but stories that he planned an assault on Parthia quite simply must be dismissed out of hand. On this occasion prudence came before pride. With Tigranes and Mithridates roaming free and with public opinion at home becoming daily more hostile, to embroil Rome in a war with yet another great power would amount to nothing less than an act of breath-taking folly. As it turned out, Tigranes, no less than Lucullus, found the wooing of Parthia to be a useless exercise. Phraates’ primary concern was the safety and welfare of his kingdom and, like his predecessors on the throne, he believed this might best be secured by being on friendly terms with all his neighbours but avoiding any involvement in their quarrels. In pursuance of this policy he saw no reason why he should not conclude pacts with both sides but give aid to neither. When the war between Rome and

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Armenia resumed the protagonists found that Phraates’ stance was one of careful neutrality.33 While it was yet winter Lucullus sent orders to the army in Pontus to come and join him for the next season’s campaigning. For some little time before this these particular troops had been proving difficult and now they went completely out of control declaring roundly that they would not take the road and, indeed, went so far as to declare they would give up their garrison duties in Pontus. When word of this reached the men in Gordyene they voiced their approval and said it was time they all had a rest from the seemingly endless toils they had to endure. The need to placate these men, the negotiations with the Parthians and the inclement weather all served to delay the start of Lucullus’ campaign. It was already high summer when he crossed the Taurus mountains and came to the Armenian plateau. There his ignorance of the land into which he had come was made abundantly clear. Seemingly he had not been alerted by the bad weather that attended the start of this campaign for he was now surprised to find corn green in the fields in July due to the coolness of the climate. This failure to acquaint himself with the climatic conditions was to cost Lucullus dear in the end. More immediately, it meant victualling problems and so the Romans hastened down to the valleys of Northern Armenia.34 There they found their opponent waiting for them. With his new army Mithridates was ready for a war of attrition. Refusing a pitched battle, even when Lucullus set about devastating the countryside and plundering the villages in his search for grain, he harassed the Roman cavalry with his own horse which prudently withdrew whenever infantry went to the aid of their colleagues. Full use was made of the archers who had performed so well at Tigranocerta. Parthian-fashion, they shot at their pursuers as they fled and to ensure they wreaked maximum havoc these men dipped their arrows in poison. Eventually, however, Lucullus succeeded in cornering Mithridates on a hillside but even now the king would not give battle. At this point Tigranes put in an appearance and attacked the Roman foragers but he was soundly beaten so that foraging now went on over a yet-wider area and Lucullus moved his lines near the hill. A second assault by Tigranes was foiled by a swift attack by the Roman cavalry and Lucullus now began to encompass Mithridates with a ditch.35 Even this failed to budge the king and Lucullus therefore

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resolved to switch tactics. Breaking off the siege, he made for Artaxata, the old Armenian capital. Tigranes had lodged his womenfolk here and Lucullus reckoned that, as in the previous year at Tigranocerta, he would not allow them to fall into enemy hands but would come running to the rescue. His calculations proved correct. On the fourth day of his march he found that Tigranes had contrived to get ahead of him and was blocking the passage of the river Arsanias (eastern Euphrates) which had to be crossed if Artaxata was to be reached. Here again Lucullus placated the river-deity with a sacrifice and then crossed with twelve cohorts in the van and the rest deployed so as to protect his flanks. The cavalry which faced him was fronted by mounted archers whom Tigranes deemed to be the very best of his forces. These, however, failed to live up to expectations for, after a light skirmish with the Roman cavalry, they gave way before the infantry advance. Scattering on both sides, they were pursued by the Roman cavalry. The main Ar menian ar my, with Tigranes at its head, now advanced. Fearing lest he be overwhelmed, Lucullus recalled his cavalry. Then, leading in person, he charged the Atropateni who were opposite with the Armenian nobility. These, too, fled and the pursuit went on through the night until the Romans grew weary of killing, capturing and gathering booty.36 The road to Artaxata thus lay open but it was soon to close again thanks to Lucullus’ own troops. Harassment by the Armenians continued, casualties mounted and supplies began to run short. But what clinched the matter was the sudden and very severe deterioration in the weather. The country itself was, anyway, unhealthy, being full of marshes and damp defiles. But to make matters worse climatic conditions were hardly what was to be expected for late September even in those inhospitable regions. Snow and frost covered the ground while a coating of ice lay on the rivers. By day, the soldiers trudged over boggy ground in snow showers, by night they lodged in the wet and damp. Murmurings soon began and the tribunes were despatched to ask Lucullus to desist. When he would not, assemblies were held and there was shouting in the tents at night. An ancient author tells us this last is characteristic of a mutinous army. Lucullus now put off his hauteur and begged and entreated. To no avail. Eventually the commander had to give way. Crossing the Taurus by another route he came to the region of Mygdonia.37

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Here, in the more benign climate, he began another siege, that of the city of Nisibis (Nusaybin), a place distinguished by having two walls of brick between which lay a moat. Filled with treasures, it was defended by a brother of the king, Gouras, who was assisted by that Callimachus who had fired Amisus. From the first Lucullus pressed the siege with great vigour but without much success. It was not until winter came and the defenders, strangely unaware of Lucullus’ appetite for fighting in the close season, grew slack that an opportunity presented itself. One dark night, aided by a rainstorm, Lucullus and his men climbed the mounds they had built and took by assault the lightly held outer wall. They then filled in part of the moat and crossed to the second since, in the high wind, the arrows and naphtha of the defenders availed them nought. This second wall soon fell since it was not as strong as the outer. The citadel held out for a little time but then Gouras yielded and was treated honourably. Callimachus, whose destruction of Amisus had not been forgotten, was, however, put in chains and reserved for Lucullus’ triumph. The Romans then wintered in the town.38 Tigranes had not bothered to come to the aid of Nisibis since he thought it would be well able to withstand a siege. Instead, he made for occupied Armenia to play the role of the liberator. There he encountered a man who, if scholarly identification be correct, can only be described as the strangest accretion of all to Lucullus’ staff. L.Fannius, the renegade who, among other services, had acted as a broker in the negotiations between Mithridates and Sertorius had somehow or other contrived not only to receive a pardon but a post of responsibility as well. In this he did not distinguish himself for he was put under siege by his opponent and only relieved when help was sent by Lucullus.39 Meanwhile, Mithridates had penetrated into Lesser Armenia and Pontus. The inhabitants, who still revered him as their lawful king and who had already begun to experience the harshness of Roman rule, gave him a warm welcome. Challenged by Fabius Hadrianus, he inflicted a heavy defeat on the legate. Only a wound incurred in the fight prevented Mithridates from striking an even heavier blow. As it was, he was able to shut Hadrianus up in Cabira and the Romans were relieved only by the arrival of Triarius who was leading reinforcements from the Bithynian coast for Lucullus. Mithridates withdrew and was followed by Triarius. Another battle was then fought near Comana, from which the

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Romans emerged as victors. Winter was now approaching so both sides pulled back to fortified frontiers. Mithridates to Comana, Triarius to Gaziura.40 So ended the campaigns of 68 which, self-evidently, had brought little comfort to Lucullus. What was at that very moment happening in Rome will have brought even less. The news that Lucullus’ troops were becoming mutinous did him, as may well be imagined, little good at all. The effect seems to have been to unleash a tide of false sympathy for the common soldier. People deplored the fact that poor Italian lads seemed to be condemned to wander endlessly through the wastes of Asia.41 Coincidental with this wailing there came the election of Aulus Gabinius to the tribunate.42 It was this man who early in the next year (67) completed the destruction of Lucullus’ great command. Gabinius brought up yet again the old complaint that Lucullus was prolonging the war for his own personal glory. To the equally well-worn charge of avarice Gabinius added a novel twist by parading about with a picture of a luxurious villa that Lucullus even now was having built at Tusculum (Frascati). Finally, the tribune gave utterance to a view that we know had been current in Rome for some time: it was undesirable and contrary to Roman practice that one man should hold so great a command for so long. So he passed a law giving Bithynia and Pontus to M’. Acilius Glabrio. To this quondam chair-smasher who was no friend of Lucullus part of the proconsular army was handed. The remainder, which included those who had once served under Fimbria and whose prolonged absence from Italy was causing so much sudden but commendable anxiety, were to be given their discharge. From this latter arrangement we can see beyond a shadow of a doubt that, along with the territories, Glabrio, a military incompetent, was to receive charge of the war against Mithridates.43 Behind Gabinius there stood now, not the publicani, but one man: Pompey. The tribune was his stooge. In a little while he was to pass a law giving his chief a great command against the pirates whose depredations had, by now, become intolerable. So it is hardly straining credulity to suggest that he was also acting on Pompey’s behalf here. Gabinius was not, of course, conferring an immediate benefit but rather, so to speak, laying up treasures for the future. Pompey’s patience rivalled that of the spider. He, as we have seen, knew well how to create a situation and then stand

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back from it until it had matured to the point where others would call upon him to apply a remedy. As he headed eastwards Pompey must have reasoned that there would be something to be gained from the Mithridatic War now that it was removed from the capable hands of Lucullus. If, as proved the case, his own campaign should be swift and if, as also proved the case, Glabrio showed himself to be worthless then he, as the man on the spot, would almost certainly be called upon to clean up the mess. After a suitable show of reluctance he would take up the new burden.44 At this point one obvious question arises. What were Lucullus’ friends doing for him? The answer seems to be: not a lot. When Asia was removed from his control we hear no protest from their direction. Further, the very fact that Lucullus had to try and bribe Quinctius to prevent more damage is an eloquent testimony to the ineffectiveness of his friends. They, we may suspect, simply felt unable to make headway against that sentiment which held that Lucullus’ prolonged command was undesirable and unhealthy. It is unlikely they actually shared it but it may have been sufficiently widespread in the senate to render useless any attempts to block the moves against Lucullus. Of course, in the final analysis, it was the sovereign people who would vote Lucullus out of office but, even with full senatorial backing, the allies of Lucullus might well hesitate to cross them. The scenes that were to attend the passing of Gabinius’ piracy law when, among other things, a consul was nearly lynched show how dangerous it could be to try and thwart the people’s wishes without good reason and, it has to be said, the allies of Lucullus did not see his salvation as a good reason in itself. As one acute ancient observer remarked, what Catulus and others were interested in was not so much in saving Lucullus as in thwarting Pompey. If that is recognized then much that has previously been dark becomes light. No doubt Lucullus’ allies deplored the dismantling of his command but they recognized that theirs was a viewpoint not widely shared in either the senate or the assembly. And so they felt there was little they could usefully do to remedy matters. From the political viewpoint, at least, the situation wore a consoling aspect: Gabinius’ law had given the command of the war to the lightweight Glabrio. With Gabinius’ next proposal, to confer a great command against the pirates on Pompey, everything changed and the friends of Lucullus could go over to the attack.

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If the senators would not bestir themselves to save Lucullus they would certainly do all in their power to thwart Pompey whose influence, as we saw in earlier chapters, they desperately wished to curb. So the argument used against Lucullus was now deployed against Pompey. Both Catulus and Hortensius claimed that it was bad that one man should have such extensive powers. The sovereign people were unimpressed and, amid tumultuous scenes, the bill passed into law. Early in the next year (66) the people were required to listen to further specious arguments. Events in the east had developed in exactly the way we suggested Pompey had hoped they might. Rex and Glabrio had accomplished nothing, Lucullus, who was still in the area, had simply ground to an ignominious halt and he, Pompey, had made short work of the pirates. Clearly the time had come for a capable commander to be sent to the area to put matters to rights once and for all. So the tribune Manilius introduced a bill which, in addition to the powers he already enjoyed, would confer on Pompey the provinces of Bithynia, Pontus and Cilicia and the command against Mithr idates. Although Lucullus had lost his command some time before, one can see some justification for the claim of Hortensius and Catulus that he was, by this measure, being deprived of the glory of winning the war. It is less easy to imagine what people made of their further assertion. Making the best of a bad job and seizing any weapon with which they might beat Pompey, the pair leapt to the defence of Glabrio and Rex saying it really was a shame that their commands were being thus prematurely terminated. In point of fact it looks as if even a fair number of senators were unimpressed. In contrast to the previous year a number of senior men, recognizing that Pompey was the man for the task, backed the proposal which was supported by the eloquence of Cicero and duly became law.45 For Lucullus the start of the campaigning season for 67 had brought with it a repetition of the scenes of the previous year when his troops once more refused to move. They had heard of Rex’s appointment to Cilicia and knew full well what it portended. Lucullus would not be their commander for very much longer. Soon they would have a new one, perhaps even Pompey himself, so there was no need to obey the old one. Their resolve was stiffened by Lucullus’ brother-in-law, Clodius. Believing himself to have been unjustly passed over for promotion

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and preferment, he now took upon himself the role of the soldiers’ friend. His particular object was the Fimbrians who had served so long in Asia. He told them that they had fought and toiled for no reward save to act as escorts for the pack-animals and carts which carried Lucullus’ loot. He then went on to tell them, untruthfully, that Pompey’s troops, who he claimed incredibly had had an easier war than they in Spain, were, at this very moment, enjoying a well-earned retirement on plots of land provided by their commander. The situation, which was beginning to look very ugly indeed, was suddenly altered by an urgent message from Triarius which reminded the troops of the oath of allegiance they had sworn and of the duty they still owed to their commander and their comrades.46 When spring came Mithridates had moved against Triarius. The Roman observed that the Pontic forces had been considerably augmented and in some alarm sent an urgent message to Lucullus for aid. The danger in which their comrades stood had, as we saw, a sobering effect on Lucullus’ men and they willingly followed their leader as he set out to the rescue. But it was already too late. Triarius, an able officer whose career to date had been one of almost unbroken success,47 had gone down to a massive defeat. He had planned on remaining in his strong position at Gaziura until Lucullus should appear but he reckoned without Mithridates. The latter launched an assault on a place called Dadasa. As this was the place where the Roman soldiers kept their booty something akin to panic swept through the ranks and the men forced their commander to take the field. The result, as I have said, was a great defeat at a place called Zela. Somewhere in the neighbourhood of Sebasteia Megalopolis (Sivas) the remnants of Triarius’ army met with the advancing forces of Lucullus and he was obliged to rescue his subordinate from his own men, who wanted to lynch him on the spot.48 So, once more, Lucullus found himself marching against Mithridates.49 The king who had braved the lesser man would not face his superior, for whom he had by now acquired a healthy respect. Instead, he retreated before Lucullus to high ground at Talaura in Lesser Armenia. There he refused to be drawn but sent skirmishers out to harass the Romans while he awaited the arrival of Tigranes. Lucullus, one supposes, must have realized full well that this was his last chance to lay hands on Mithridates and even at this late moment to tur n a disastrous campaign into a

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magnificent triumph. To winkle out the quarry, though, extra troops were needed. As it happened, Q.Marcius Rex, his successor in Cilicia, was even now passing through Lycaonia on his way to his province with three legions. 50 Rex was actually married to a Clodia (Tertia), sister of Lucullus’ wife Clodia, so the proconsul may have thought this relationship might be deployed to his advantage. 51 But he was to be disappointed. Pompey’s great command was not yet and Rex’s brief was to fight the pirates in Cilicia as P.Servilius had done some years before. The Lex Cornelia de maiestate forbade him to leave his province without the senate’s permission and, on this occasion, Rex elected to put obedience to the law before familial obligations.52 But Rex did not always show such scrupulosity and another contemporary incident reveals for us a man who harboured deeply hostile feelings for Lucullus. When Lucullus’ troops consented to march to Triarius’ aid Clodius had been obliged to flee and he made his way to Rex. This time Rex seems to have felt able to put his family before the requirements of the law for he took this notorious mutineer on to his staff and even gave him command of his fleet.53 Then, while Lucullus was still facing Mithridates in bafflement, there came a message from Glabrio. On the voyage out the consul had been quite keen on the idea of making war on Mithridates but when he glimpsed the terrain and heard of what Lucullus was actually doing he rapidly changed his mind and judged things would go the better with himself if he remained in Bithynia. It was from here then that he sent his missive. After repeating the well-worn slander that Lucullus was needlessly prolonging the war he ordered him to give the Fimbrians their discharge and to send the rest of the army to himself. 54 From the viewpoint of the constitutional lawyer there can be no doubt that Lucullus was required to obey these instructions. The Lex Cornelia referred to above required a man to vacate a province within thirty days of his successor’s arrival.55 One may well imagine though what Lucullus thought of such orders and the sort of person who had issued them. He resolved to disobey and gamble. His troops knew what was afoot and Lucullus seems to have reasoned he would have a better chance of keeping them under control if they were actually marching against an enemy than when they were sitting around at a siege. So he led them forth against Tigranes. The ploy, however, did not work. They were not

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long on the road when the Fimbrians began to make trouble. The barrack-room lawyers had been at work among them and they presented Lucullus with what was, in fact, an unassailable case. They pointed out that they had enlisted with him purely for the duration of his command. Now that command had been terminated and so, in consequence, was their period of service. To prove it they had a law duly passed by the people authorizing their release.56 Totally bereft of authority, Lucullus had no other option but to plead. Going from tent to tent, he begged the soldiers to reconsider, but to no avail. The best that could be achieved was that the other troops prevailed upon the Fimbrians to remain with the colours on condition that, if they were not attacked in the mean time, they might take their departure at the end of summer. Lucullus had no choice but to submit to these terms. Not daring to commit such an army to battle, he took up position somewhere on the borders of Cappadocia and Armenia. There he had to sit and watch as Tigranes ravaged Cappadocia while Mithridates, ever buoyant, re-established his authority over a large area of Pontus. At this moment Lucullus’ embarrassment was compounded or, perhaps it is more accurate to say, his agony was increased by the arrival of the senatorial commission for the settling of the province of Pontus which he had summoned in the moment of seeming victory. As was usual, it was composed of ten members, but the names of only two are known to us. One was Lucullus’ brother Marcus. The other was that Murena who was father to Lucullus’ legate and friend and who, in his own time, had provoked the Second Mithridatic War.57 These men, instead of the pacified kingdom ready to be turned into a province which they expected, found instead a general prisoner of his own troops and a king, supposedly squashed some years before, showing every sign of vigour. Nevertheless, they did what they could and issued a number of ordinances. That we do not know what they were is of no real importance. Rather, it is the political consequences of their repeal that will engage our attention shortly. At the end of summer, the Fimbrians marched away. Years of ill-feeling, resentment and aggrievement had at last found their outlet and expression in the events of 67.58 Lucullus had always driven his troops hard. Even in winter they found little respite from their labours for instead of billets they found themselves under canvas. Lucullus indulged this

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dangerous practice59 in order to spare the Greeks but in winning the love of the provincials he earned the hatred of his own men, for whom this matter became an especial source of grievance.60 However, had the men been recompensed for the demands made upon them by being allowed to exercise from the outset their right to loot, then all might yet have been well. As it was, they got nothing substantial until Cabira fell, two years into the war. After this, contrary to legend, other opportunities were given them but by then it was too late. The picture of Lucullus as a stingy man was for ever fixed in his troops’ minds. When they thought of their commander they thought of the man who tried to deprive them of their rights at the fall of Amisus. Lucullus’ willingness to lead from the front may have proved an inspiration in battle but off the field he seems to have awoken little warmth in his men. There are some commanders, Sulla and Caesar for instance, who have the capacity to establish a camaraderie with their men, so that they may ask much of them and it will not be refused while, at the same time, seeing to it that this community of spirit does nothing to undermine order and discipline. Lucullus was not such a commander. One of our sources speaks of him as a remote and haughty figure who made no effort to empathize with his men but thought that his role was to command while the soldiers’ was to obey.61 Yet, for so long as Lucullus was a properly constituted commander with authorization from Rome, he had little to fear from the troops and could largely ignore their feelings. For all their resentment their sense of discipline remained strong and they obeyed. It was only in the present situation that that uncertain temper became a danger. Now, stripped of authority, Lucullus proposed to them a course of dubious legality. Men who loved him might have voluntarily followed him: as it was, these troops hated him and we have just witnessed the response they gave in consequence. With the departure of the Fimbrians Lucullus appears to have judged it prudent to pull back to Galatia. If he had been able to avoid obeying Glabrio he must have realized, early in 66, that he could not hope to do the same with the latter’s successor. Pompey, as we know, had just been appointed to the command and he was certainly not going to skulk in Bithynia. He immediately fired off a series of orders by letter. All troops who had not been discharged were to come and serve under him.

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Significantly, these were joined by volunteers in the shape of the Fimbrians. Their love of Italy was not, it would seem, as great as their interested champions at Rome had liked to claim, for they cheerfully re-enlisted for another tour of duty. Pompey also forbade Lucullus to distribute rewards and punishments to those who had served under him and he revoked all the measures that the commissioners had passed for the province of Pontus. These last two moves caused considerable resentment to Lucullus and his followers. Mutual friends, therefore, arranged for a meeting between the two at a village called Danala. This was somewhere in Galatia but its exact location is not known. As befitted such a momentous occasion it was attended by a suitable omen. Both commanders came to the encounter with fasces which had been wreathed with laurel. Pompey, however, had passed through a dry region and so his laurels were withered. Some of Lucullus’ lictors thoughtfully gave him their own which were fresh and green. Those who noticed such things immediately saw here a sign: the victories of Lucullus were to be added to those of Pompey. To begin with, everything went reasonably well. The first encounter seems to have been largely ceremonial and both men, with what in the Anglo-Saxon world would be commended as admirable courtesy and castigated in freer-spoken regions as rank hypocr isy, paid due tr ibute to the other’s achievements. Subsequent meetings proved to be less sunny when business was discussed. Pompey, brushing aside unconvincing assertions that the war was over, refused to budge on the major issues: Lucullus was not to hand out any rewards or punishments or make any arrangements about the provinces. This led to what diplomats call a frank exchange of views as the strain of maintaining politeness proved too much. Pompey repeated the current jibes about Lucullus’ fondness for money while his colleague retaliated with pointed observations about Pompey’s love of power. At one session the pair almost came to blows and had to be pulled apart by their attendants. Lucullus then drew off a little way and from his new camp began yet again to distribute rewards and to issue provincial edicts. Pompey, from his camp, simply countermanded them. All the while the exchange of taunts and insults went on. Pompey claimed that it was only now Mithridates had become really dangerous. Lucullus had simply been fighting with a player king. Lucullus replied by likening Pompey to a nasty sort of carrion

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fowl who hung around battlefields in order to pick up what others had left. It need hardly be said that these were two very stubborn men but the contest between them was unequal. Pompey had power and Lucullus had none. In the end, there was nothing for it but to yield. When he took away the rest of his troops, Pompey left Lucullus with 1,600 so that he might triumph. In the rancorous atmosphere of the time it was easy for cynics to claim that the new commander had conferred this boon on the old because he wished to be rid of a body of troops who had the reputation of being troublemakers but the lie is given to this assertion by their impeccable behaviour in the years that followed. With this small force Lucullus at last left Galatia and began the long journey back to Rome. In our next chapter we shall see that, although the completion of the war was now in the hands of another, Lucullus fully expected he and his men would walk in triumph through the streets of the capital.62 Almost eight years had passed since Lucullus had last seen the city. Much had happened in that time and much had changed. Greatest of these changes, of course, had been the alterations to Sulla’s constitution wrought in 70. Then, as we know, the restoration of full tribunician power, against which he had fought with temporary success, had been effected. With it, too, went a change in the composition of the courts which some alleged had been corrupt. No longer would senators judge alone but must needs share the benches with equites and tribuni aerarii. The effects of this measure cannot be called pernicious, for the conflict between the orders of senators and equites that had characterized the previous generation did not now recur.63 It was far otherwise with the tribunate. Lucullus himself had already had a taste of what this reform could mean and, to anticipate our tale, he was soon to have more. In sum, Lucullus was returning to a world that now fell somewhat short of what he would have regarded as the ideal. Even at this moment the consequences of making changes in Sulla’s constitution were making themselves felt and in a little while, too, the problems attendant on giving Pompey a great command were to become manifest. Lucullus’ career as a soldier was now at an end and, from this point onward, we shall be concer ned exclusively with his efforts to adjust to a changed state of affairs in the political sphere.

VII The life of a sponge?

Despite the rather inconclusive end to his campaign, Lucullus, on his return to Rome in 66, must have had every hope that his expectation of a triumph would be fulfilled. He had, of course, been slandered but enough was known for everybody to see that his achievement was considerable and worthy of this public acknowledgement. Certainly, there is no reason to suppose that those in the senate who had deplored his extended command would grudge him such an honour. The opposition came, rather, from a familiar quarter: a tribune anxious to use to the full the powers recently restored to his office. We are speaking of a certain C.Memmius. He came from a praetor ian family and his character has been descr ibed as ‘mercurial’, while ‘erratic’ is the verdict passed on his career as a whole. It is almost obligatory to add that he was patron of the poet Lucretius, author of that dreary masterpiece De Rerum Natura.1 Now, in the less exalted sphere of Roman politics, he turned on the Luculli. Marcus was his first target. His career had not been as spectacular as his brother’s but, at the same time, he could have had no cause to blush when people made reference to it. In the year after his brother (73) he, too, held the consulship. Then followed two years’ successful campaigning in Macedonia and Thrace for which he won a triumph after being recalled to help put down the slave revolt of Spartacus. Subsequently he was, as we saw, a member of the commission appointed to settle Pontus. We may add that he, like his brother, was also admitted to a priestly college. At some time unknown Lucius became an augur while Marcus’ pontificate can be dated to some time before 73. 2 Marcus was now prosecuted by Memmius. It was alleged that 129

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during the time he had been Sulla’s temporary quaestor in the First Mithridatic War some twenty odd years before (ch. II) he had committed sacrilege and embezzled public monies. 3 The antiquity of the alleged offences is a sure indicator of the political motivation of the prosecutor. As so often, a court was being used to pursue a quarrel or feud. There was, too, at this time a certain vogue for prosecuting old Sullan adherents, and Memmius no doubt saw no reason why he should not follow it. 4 Marcus, however, was acquitted and the tribune then directed his attention to Lucius. Memmius had the reputation of being a kind of sexual adventurer. Voracious and indiscriminate, he delighted in sailing in dangerous waters. He once propositioned Pompey’s wife, for instance, only to have her immediately complain to her husband. This, of course, did Memmius no good at all. He was married to Fausta, daughter of Sulla, who also had the reputation of being promiscuous, but, as so often happens, Memmius would not allow his wife the licence he had granted himself. He is on record as having beaten up a certain L.Octavius whom he caught in flagrante.5 So much for Memmius’ failures. Now for his successes. Among them he numbered Marcus Lucullus’ wife and when the injured husband discovered what was going on divorce followed. Cicero, who tells us about this in one of his letters, then adds an enigmatic remark, ‘our modern Paris has wiped his boots on Agamemnon as well’. With a fair degree of plausibility this has been taken to mean that Memmius also pleasured Lucius’ wife.6 It is easy to draw an equation between Memmius’ activities in the bedroom and the forum. On the Tacitean principle that we hate those we injure he will have proceeded to attack in public those he had injured in private. Unfortunately, chronology will not support this. Cicero’s letter is dated to the 20th January 60 and it is clear that Marcus’ divorce had occurred but a little time before. Lucius was married twice but either wife was of the sort to give ear to Memmius’ blandishments and so we cannot tell for certain which is referred to here. Thus, Memmius’ seductions must be seen, not as the start of a feud but rather as the continuation of one which, in point of fact, began with this prosecution. Until 66 we have no reason to suppose there was any enmity at all between Memmius and the brothers Luculli. Quite the contrary. Lucius was guardian of Fausta and when he

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gave his consent to the match we must suppose he found nothing objectionable in him.7 The motive for Memmius’ behaviour must therefore be found where Plutarch puts it, in the political sphere.8 Memmius, he tells us, was acting in the Pompeian interest. This is perfectly acceptable, providing we realize that such a wayward character was not likely to be taking direct orders from Magnus.9 Rather, knowing how matters stood between Lucullus and Pompey (who in Rome did not?), he resolved to strike a blow at the former which would make him pleasing to the latter. Pompey aside, Memmius must also have calculated that for a young man such as he to dangle from his belt the scalps of one or other of the illustr ious brothers would make of him a man of note in contemporary politics.10 Whatever motives impelled Memmius he had already done Marcus a damage. He was now to do Lucius a far greater. In order for a man to triumph it was necessary for the people to grant him the right to hold imperium within the walls during the day of the triumph. When the senate made application in the case of Lucullus Memmius, as tribune, opposed the measure and in justification wheeled out once more some of the heavy-duty slanders that had been deployed against Lucullus. The proconsul, he said, was guilty of embezzling public funds (peculatus) and of waging an unjust war against Armenia. The people responded by refusing to pass the necessary law. So Lucullus could do nothing save kick his heels in idleness beyond the city gates and wait upon the turn of events. He was not without companions in his predicament. Q.Caecilius Metellus Creticus was there too. In the previous year he had clashed with Pompey in Crete during the latter’s pirate campaigns and, although our sources do not say it, this is obviously the cause of his predicament. Somebody, either acting on direct orders, or trying to ingratiate himself, like Memmius, with Magnus saw to it that he also had to wait. Certainly, when he and Lucullus did eventually triumph one source, bracketing the two, speaks of this as a blow to Pompey. What Q.Marcius Rex was doing in this company is not altogether clear since we have no information as to whom he might have offended. One source does hint that he, too, was the victim of political machinations but his mediocre achievements may have been sufficient to debar him and, in fact, he died without attaining his triumph. Within the city Lucullus’ political allies were busy and they

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were able to ensure that most of those who reached the consulship in the period 66–63 were no friends of Pompey. An attack was also mounted on the radical tribunate which had proved so troublesome to them and those who thought as they did. The targetting of C.Manilius hardly needs an explanatory gloss and of his fellow intended victim, C.Cornelius, we need only say that his tribunician activities in 67 had proved to be a considerable embarassment. In the event, Cornelius got off while Manilius was condemned. But some thought that more than a simple act of revenge was involved in these trials and that an attempt was actually being made to discredit the tribunate and, perhaps, emasculate it once more. Certainly, the list of prosecution witnesses at the trial of Cornelius reads like a check-list or gazetteer of those who had, since the dictator’s death, taken upon themselves to defend the Sullan order: Hortensius, Catulus, Metellus Pius, M.Lucullus and Mamercus Lepidus. The rhetorician, Valerius Maximus, can easily be forgiven for believing mistakenly that Lucullus himself was among them.11 But these men were, by now, middle-aged or older. New figures had begun to come forward in public life and, as may be guessed, not all of them were friendly to the aims of the Sullans. There was, however, one whose ideals would, in cer tain circumstances, make of him a natural ally, even if his prickly personality meant he would be a difficult one. I speak of M.Porcius Cato, great-g randson of the famous censor and posthumously styled ‘Uticensis’. Like the Luculli he believed that the natural rulers of Rome were her nobility, who must be informed by traditional Roman virtues. Thus fortified, it was their duty to exercise their power in uprightness and collectively. There was no place in Cato’s scheme for the dominant individual such as Pompey. Ironically, in view of his detestation of Sulla, he seems to have shared the great dictator’s reverence for pre-Gracchan Rome. So deep was his devotion to the republic that when he held it lost with Caesar’s victory in the Civil War he chose not to outlive it but stabbed himself to death at Utica. Cato, too, was a student of philosophy, but not for him the moderate and very Roman attitude of Lucullus and his friends. His enthusiasm for the Stoic creed bordered on the fanatical and his consistent importation of its doctrines into his political life did not always work to his own advantage nor did it make him the easiest of people to collaborate with.

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By 64 Cato had but reached the quaestorship where he had acquired renown for his probity and efficiency. But his influence by then was out of all proportion to the lowly position he occupied in the Roman hierarchy. There is no more startling proof of this than the Catilinarian debate of the next year when his speech had the effect in turning the senate from the path of clemency to that of severity in dealing with the plotters. Plainly, this was a man to have on one’s side and another of Lucullus’ contemporary misfortunes provided the opportunity to achieve this.12 Like many before and after him who returned tardily from a long campaign, Lucullus discovered that his wife, Clodia, had sought solace in another’s arms. In his case, however, there was a novel feature. When his female slaves were interrogated under torture they revealed that Clodia’s lover was none other than her own brother P.Clodius. The affair must be dated at latest to the period immediately following Lucullus’ departure for the east and Clodius’ somewhat hurried exit from the city in 73 but it may be a renewal of a liaison that predated Lucullus’ marriage. At any rate by the time he quitted the city Clodius’ reputation as a debauchee was well established and there were people about ready to declare he had commenced his incestuous practices young. Some, more unscrupulous or perhaps more imaginative than their fellows, actually claimed he had made love to all three of his sisters. The horns of the cuckold are not comfortable headgear and one can imagine what the wags and wits of Rome, both high and low, made of Lucullus’ particular specimen. So Clodia received a bill of divorce.13 This naturally meant that Lucullus was free to seek another match and, as we know, he was anxious it should be with the house of Cato. The latter could be choosy about whom his female relatives married but, in the present instance, he raised no objection and a bride was found for Lucullus in the person of Servilia. She was Cato’s niece, being the daughter of his beloved half-brother Q.Servilius Caepio who had died young in 67.14 Clodia and Lucullus had but one child, a daughter Licinia. We know of her only from the inscription on the base of a statue that the Athenians erected in her honour in 49. That she and not her husband, who seems to have been one of the Metelli, was so honoured looks like a tribute to her late father. The Greek world had not forgotten one of its greatest Roman benefactors.15

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Likewise, there was but one issue of Lucullus’ second marriage: a son called L.Lucullus. Unlike his father, he made little impression on the world and, indeed, is often confused with a cousin of his, the son of M.Lucullus. We shall be speaking of him in another place in the context of his father’s artistic interests but here the rest of his story, such as it is, can be briefly told. He was born sometime between 64 and 60. Certainly in 49 he was still under the control of Cato who had become his guardian on his father’s death and that year he and Servilia followed Cato when the latter went to Asia to collect reinforcements for the republican forces. Five years later, however, he seems to have reached his majority. At least, that is the impression we seem to gain from an aside of Cicero’s which appears to show him in full control of the property left him by his father. After this he vanishes and leaves no certain trace behind. The suspicion must be that he perished in the turbulent years that followed, although silence might mean that, inheriting to the full that streak of quietism which we detected in his father, he lived in an obscurity that ensured survival.16 Lucullus’ second marriage, however, proved to be no happier than his first. In fact, it was said Servilia was an improvement on Clodia in only one respect: she did not sleep with her brothers. For a time Lucullus endured her amours.17 Political considerations dictated this self-control since he did not wish to offend Cato. But, when he finally decided to withdraw from public life he saw no need for further tolerance and Servilia, too, received a bill of divorce.18 Despite all their activities Lucullus’ friends were unable to do anything for him until 63. Then, shortly before election time, they went among the people to exercise their influence and have the ban on Lucullus lifted. One circumstance that seems to have aided them was the presence in the assembly of a number of Lucullus’ troops come to support his lieutenant Murena who was now a consular candidate. The friends of Lucullus were helped too by the consul Cicero. This might seem a little surprising since he had played a part in Lucullus’ downfall with his speech in favour of the Manilian law. However, in that speech he had spoken respectfully of Lucullus and the latter seems not to have borne him any grudge, for they remained on good terms to the end of Lucullus’ life. In fact, it seems to have been generally recognized that as a novus homo seeking the consulship Cicero, more than

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most, had to conciliate and win all sections of opinion. The man who pleased the friends of Pompey with his Manilian speech won the people by acting as defence counsel for the tribune Cornelius and yet was the same person who, in 65, helped Catulus block an attempt by Crassus to have Egypt annexed. Cicero’s consulship is the measure of his success and his aid to Lucullus now is an expression of his gratitude to the optimate section of his supporters. He was also aware that, in putting an end to a major scandal, he was enhancing his own reputation. In aftertimes he was to boast that it was he, as consul, who ended three years of machinations against ‘Lucullus and almost led his triumphal car into the city.19 At last, Lucullus was being allowed to tr iumph over Mithridates and Tigranes.20 The triumphal procession started on the Campus Martius and passed through the Circus Flaminius which Lucullus had, for the day, bedecked with the arms of the enemy and with their engines of war. It then crossed the Velabrum and the Forum Boarium. From the Circus Maximus it made its way along the Via Sacra and thus to its destination on the Capitol. On the day of his departure Lucullus had mounted the Capitol to make vows for his imperium and the republic. Now he was returning there once more to offer his thanks to the gods. Leading the procession were mail-clad horsemen and scythebearing chariots, together with sixty of Mithridates’ generals and councillors. They were followed by a hundred and ten of the bronze-beaked ships which, like the char iots, were among Mithridates’ favourite instruments of war. The king himself, being unavoidably absent and destined actually never to adorn a triumph for the amusement of the holiday crowd, was represented by a gold statue 6 feet high. Then came men bearing litters of gold and silver beakers and money. Next were eight mules bearing gold couches; a further fifty-six of these animals carried ingots of silver and finally a further one hundred and seven bore something in the region of 2,700,000 silver coins. Placards proclaimed the amount Lucullus had given Pompey for the pirate war, what he had deposited in the treasury and the fact that each of his soldiers had received a donative of 950 sesterces. To crown the day’s celebration Lucullus gave the senate a banquet on the Capitol, as was customary. Nor were the people forgotten. In common with a number of other generals of the

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late republic—most notably Sulla—Lucullus was devoted to Hercules and regarded him as the god of victory. So now he dedicated a tenth of his property to the god in thanksgiving and gave the plebs the obligatory polluctum or public banquet. This was noteworthy for the fact that 100,000 jars of Greek wine were distributed. On one modern calculation this amounts to the (literally) staggering total of 4,000,000 litres.21 As a further expression of his devotion to Hercules Lucullus erected a statue of the god in public. It depicted the hero in the shirt of Nessus. The only statue on public view in the city which portrayed this scene, it was held to capture particularly well the expression of agony on the subject’s face. In the time of the elder Pliny it could still be seen and three inscriptions on its base bore testimony to its somewhat chequered career. The first recorded that it had come from the spoils of Lucullus. From the second we learn that Lucullus’ son, while still a minor, dedicated it in accordance with a decree of the senate. In the third we hear of a certain Sabinus who, as curule aedile, rescued it from private hands into which it had fallen and set it up in public once more.22 So far as we can tell, this statue was the only adornment Lucullus added to the beauties of Rome.23 Nor was his hand much more lavish in Italy. A suggestion that he joined Murena jun. in setting up a group of statues at the shrine of Juno Sospita in Lanuvium (Lanuvio) is no more than that—a suggestion—and one against which some telling arguments have been advanced. Indeed, in the present state of our knowledge, the only place which can with reasonable certainty be associated with Lucullus is the complex of Diana at Nemi. He equated her with the Persian Artemis who had smiled on him the day he crossed the Euphrates and in thanksgiving he made an addition to her shrine.24 In this self-effacement and refusal to seek immortality in bricks and mortar Lucullus can fairly be said to run contrary to the pompous age in which he lived and to resemble his old friend Sulla.25 Yet, as we shall see, in the private sphere he was not to imitate his fr iend’s modesty but to build on a scale of magnificence virtually unsurpassed at that time. The consular elections, which had been postponed, followed hard upon the triumph. As we saw, Murena, who was a candidate, enjoyed the support of Lucullus’ troops fresh from the triumph and he also had the backing of their commander who came to commend him to the voters. In the event Murena was duly

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elected. The other successful candidate was a certain D. Junius Silanus who was Cato’s brother-in-law and must have owed something to his canvass.26 But now Cato furnished the clearest proof of why his political allies must have found working with him trying, to say the least. During the election campaign rumours of bribery had circulated widely and Cato let it be known that he would prosecute the successful candidates. Seemingly, the grounds for this were simply that victory in itself was a proof of guilt. It has been well said of Cato that his zeal for chastising the sinner meant he paid no heed to party or personal considerations and disregarded totally the question of timing.27 In actual fact, in the present instance familial considerations seem to have induced him to let Silanus be. But, in spite of his connection with Lucullus, he launched a prosecution against Murena. He was joined by Servius Sulpicius, one of the disappointed candidates whose motives, it should be said, were slightly less abstract. He hoped to get Murena’s place by securing his conviction. For the defence Hortensius, Cicero and Crassus spoke. Hortensius’ connection with Lucullus is sufficient to explain his presence. Cicero, too, may have wanted to do him another favour but, one suspects, he was also thinking of something else. One of the disappointed candidates had been Catiline and people believed that even before the elections he had been hatching some sort of plot. His failure now was his second rebuff and it was held to have convinced him that he had no future in conventional politics. At any rate, by this time he was in open rebellion in Etruria.28 Since no-one could predict how long the war might be Cicero plainly felt it desirable to have as a successor a military man like Murena. For once the efforts of legitimate authority should not be bedevilled by an incompetent commander. Crassus was anxious to redeem himself, for he had actually backed Catiline’s candidature. Moreover, like Cicero, he, too, looked to Murena’s military talents and the swift squashing of Catiline. Like Lucullus, he had hated Pompey since the days of Sulla but he also feared him. Should Catiline be still in the field when Pompey returned to Italy—and his return was imminent—then Crassus trembled to think that the two might make some kind of alliance against himself. Lucullus himself did not speak but he did attend the court, for even the presence of a prominent man could carry weight with a Roman jury. There he had to listen as Cato described the

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Mithridatic War as a war fought with little women and branded Murena as a ‘dancer’. Since neither Lucullus nor Murena seem to have borne Cato any ill-will afterwards we can only presume they accepted this was just Cato being Cato. Those who would associate with him had to learn to tolerate his eccentricities. In any case, the invective was ineffective this time and Murena was acquitted.29 Soon afterwards some of Catiline’s associates, who had remained in the city after their chief’s departure, revealed themselves. They were caught engaging in treasonable negotiations with ambassadors from a Gallic tribe, the Allobroges. On the 5th of December the senate met to decide their fate. As stated earlier, it was a speech of Cato’s that was decisive in persuading the house to apply the death penalty. But, even before that, fourteen consulars had given their support for severe action and, in view of their outlook, it comes as no surprise to learn that among them were the brothers Luculli. Early in the next year the rebellion was ended with the defeat and death of Catiline himself.30 Lucullus’ appearance at court on behalf of Murena was not, by any means, the last such. Now (62) he came once more to lend support to a friend in peril. His old protégé, Archias, was being prosecuted by a certain Gratius on the grounds that he had been falsely passing himself off as a Roman citizen. Cicero, who had long been a friend and admirer of Archias, spoke for the defence. We do not know the result but the eloquence of the defence counsel and the strength of his case make it virtually certain it was acquittal. What is less certain is whether any political significance should be attached to the matter. Two circumstances suggest that it might. The obscurity of the prosecutor (nothing more is known of Gratius) and the feebleness of his case strongly points not to the hope of success but the desire to be vexatious. Lucullus was being got at through an attack on one of his friends. Gratius or perhaps somebody standing behind him hoped to make himself pleasing to Pompey.31 But the Archias affair does not exhaust the list of Lucullus’ court appearances in these years and he was soon to give evidence for the prosecution in the trial of a far more colourful character than Archias. In December 62 the celebration of the rites of the Bona Dea, traditionally the sole preserve of women, was violated and brought to a sudden end when a man, clad in women’s clothes,

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was discovered on the premises where it was being held. Unveiling revealed the quaestor-elect and former brother-in-law of Lucullus, P.Clodius. He had so arrayed himself in order to make an assignation with Pompeia, mistress of the house and wife of one of the coming men of the day, the praetor Julius Caesar. The matter was referred to the Vestal Virgins and the Pontiffs and they ruled that sacrilege had been committed. So a move was made in the senate to have Clodius brought to trial. Lucullus, of course, was an enthusiastic supporter of the promulgation of the necessary enabling bill. The chance had come to repay Clodius for what he had done in the past. A secondary motive may very well have been the desire to make Caesar as uncomfortable as possible. Lucullus could have had no love for this man whose anti-Sullan credentials were impeccable and like Sulla he may, discerning many Mariuses there, have begun to be uneasy over his ambition and ability. As Caesar had made his embarrassment abundantly clear by divorcing Pompeia, Lucullus may have reasoned that keeping the affair alive would have certain advantages over and above the primary one of damaging Clodius. However, when the afore-mentioned enabling bill was introduced into the senate on the statutary twenty-fourth day before voting it ran into trouble. Clodius had some influence in the house and he persuaded a number of powerful men to withhold their support from it. Those who pressed on with the measure now began to look uneasily over their shoulders. Among the people, too, Clodius was powerful and from their midst he was busy recruiting gangs. When the day for voting arrived these gangs were prominent. Nevertheless, the optimates held fast and the assembly was adjourned. The senate then met and passed a decree asking the consuls to urge the people to pass the bill, even though we are told by a (perhaps hostile) witness that Clodius went down on his knees in supplication before every senator. At this point a tribune Q.Fufius interposed his veto and Clodius then proceeded to hold a series of public meetings at which he heaped abuse on Lucullus and his other opponents. Eventually, however, Fufius was prevailed upon to withdraw his veto and a tribunal was duly established. Lucullus, of course, came to testify and offer distinctly hostile evidence. It was now that he declared publicly under oath that Clodius was guilty of incest. He also levelled at him the charge of fomenting mutiny in his army at Nisibis. It must have seemed to many that Clodius was

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doomed when Cicero blew his alibi. He had claimed to be absent from the city on the day in question but Cicero testified he had seen him in Rome. Yet, despite this, Clodius was acquitted and inevitably stories of vote-selling began to circulate. To protect them from Clodius’ gangs the jurors had requested a guard and Catulus now sarcastically asked if they had been afraid somebody would steal their bribes.32 But, even as Clodius was being measured for his dress, another—and arguably greater—foe of Lucullus was approaching Rome. Pompey was coming home. The war had at last come to an end with the suicide of Mithridates in 63 but even before then Pompey had spent a good deal of time organizing the affairs of the east. 33 However, all tasks done, the great conqueror returned to Italy at the end of 62. To the relief of many and, it should be said, the disappointment of not a few he failed to fulfil the widespread expectation that he would emulate his old chief Sulla’s behaviour of some thirty years before. Instead, he promptly disbanded his ar my and took his place among his peers. Unfortunately, the peers were not ready with a warm welcome. They were definitely not prepared to grant him the honourable status he craved and they were determined to show this by their response to a specific issue. Many senators had supported the Manilian law because they recognized that Pompey was the man best fitted to finish off Mithridates. Now, however, the senate refused to pay the price or to accept the natural corollary of Pompey’s campaign: his twin request that land be found for his men and that his settlement of the east be ratified in due form. However much he craved to be accepted, there can be little doubt that Pompey was not really at home in the senate. The Great Warrior had reached his present position by the arts of war, not peace. After his consulship he had made but rare appearances in the senate before his departure for the east and now he could be said to be walking in a strange land. As has been succinctly stated by one scholar, ‘his response to the political situation at Rome reveals a curious mixture of overconfidence and insight’. The details need not concern us except in so far as they have a bearing on the sequel and that sequel may be baldly stated: it was not until 60 that Pompey felt in a position to seek the implementation of his aims.34 Then, in rapid succession, or perhaps even simultaneously, he moved on both of the issues in question. He himself asked that

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the senate ratify his Eastern arrangements en bloc. L.Flavius, a friendly tribune, introduced a bill that would give land to Pompey’s veterans. Since the Roman plebs were notoriously touchy about land assignments from which they were excluded and wont to react violently in consequence, Flavius took care to add a clause to his bill to the effect that grants would also be made to other citizens who wanted them.35 At once, Pompey’s enemies rose up in a swarm with Lucullus at their head. His presence there needs no explanation and he was accompanied by Cato. He, of course, did not have the strong personal motives for setting his face against Pompey his ally did but, in the vision of the republic he shared with Lucullus, there was no place for those who had grown to such greatness. Pompey, in fact, had foreseen that trouble would come from this quarter and in the previous year had tried to buy Cato off with an offer to marry one of his nieces. The defender of the republic was not to be seduced, however, and all Pompey succeeded in doing was adding to the number of his enemies. Foolishly assuming that Cato would find his offer irresistible, Pompey had prematurely divorced his wife Mucia and her half-brother, the consul Metellus Celer, took this as a slur on his house. He was joined in his enmity by another Metellus, Creticus. This one had not forgotten the row in Crete or his own delayed triumph. The number of named enemies of Pompey is completed by Crassus. The enmity between them had certainly not ended with an empty gesture of reconciliation at the end of 70 and we have just seen Crassus’ anxieties about Pompey’s power. The opportunity to curb him was too good to miss. Aside from these named supporters Lucullus must have known of the dislike felt for Pompey by a goodly portion of the senate. In the present instance there was particular cause for anger. When Pompey dismissed Lucullus’ commission for setting up the province of Pontus it was expected he would apply for a fresh one from the senate. Instead, he had gone ahead and made his arrangements on his own authority. In other words, he had shown his contempt for the principle that the senate oversaw foreign policy, and that was something not to be lightly endured.36 So, when Pompey made his request, Lucullus, confident of widespread support, was ready with a counter-proposal. Pompey’s arrangements should not be ratified altogether. They ought, instead, to be scrutinized one by one, as nobody knew their

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nature. Furthermore, he asked that his own arrangements should be revived. In each instance he requested his arrangements be compared with those of Pompey so that the fathers might judge which was deemed most suitable. Pompey, with his inexperience of the house, was helpless in the face of what amounted to a filibuster. His chief agent, the consul L.Afranius who was apparently a dancer like Murena, was of little use since he owed his elevation to Pompey and therefore possessed no independent influence. In the end, there was nothing Pompey could do but sit and watch as his bill was talked out.37 His other proposal fared little better. Some writers attribute to Lucullus a leading part in its destruction also but, in fact, he seems to have been content to play the loyal supporter to Metellus Celer and leave the struggle to be managed by him. The consul opposed the measure with another filibuster and Flavius, in exasperation, had him thrown into prison. When Metellus tried to convene a meeting of the senate there the tribune sat in the doorway and dared anybody to violate his sacrosanctity. Metellus, however, proved equal to the occasion and created an alternative doorway by knocking a hole in the wall. At this point it dawned on Pompey that he might be looking ridiculous, so he called Flavius off. Metellus, however, would not yield even when Flavius later threatened to deprive him of his province if he did not give way. So Pompey’s second proposal was lost.38 These things, then, Lucullus did between 66 and 60. Yet in Plutarch we read that his life had two parts. The first, which finished with the Mithridatic War, was devoted to serious business; the second, that period of which I have just spoken, was given over to trifling and frivolity. Lucullus himself was falling apart. He was like a sponge rotting at the bottom of the sea. Although it is clean contrary to the facts as I have just outlined them, this is a verdict that has won widespread acceptance throughout the ages.39 I now propose to demonstrate that its fount and origin can be traced right back to a deliberate decision made by Lucullus himself.

VIII ‘…retired Leisure that in trim gardens takes his pleasure’

Lucullus’ public activities in the period 66–60 present to the attentive reader one salient feature: with the exception of the attack on Pompey, Lucullus follows where others lead. Even in the case of an arch-foe such as Clodius he allows others to begin proceedings and, if we look for instance at his court-appearances, we definitely find him playing a secondary role. In short, Lucullus now reacts to events rather than initiates them. He acted thus, I believe, of set purpose. In the three years spent awaiting his triumph Lucullus had abundant time for reflection. His war with Mithridates, although adorned with distinguished and brilliant victories, had not been brought to a successful conclusion and another had been entrusted with bringing it to an end. Further, his friends had not been able to prevent the command being taken from him and, at this very moment, were giving yet further signal proof of their impotence by their failure to rescue him from his embarrassing position. This pointed to the obvious deduction that Lucullus would not possess the auetoritas he would have wished. He would certainly have a position of honour in the state but his counsel would not carry the same weight as it would have done had he returned as the vanquisher of Mithridates. Hence, although many people expected him to put himself at the head of the optimate interest in the state, Lucullus himself decided he was not fitted for the role. His continued participation in public life showed he had not yet despaired of those principles he had ever expressed but that he felt the time had come for others, most notably Cato, to take the lead in their defence. Possibly in these moments Lucullus bethought himself of his dead friend Antiochus who believed a man should blend the active and the contemplative in his life, for he now resolved to devote to his 143

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private concerns much of the time he had once devoted to politics.1 As with ourselves, the Romans chose those leisure activities that suited their tastes, their characters and their pockets. Thus Cicero snootily reminded his audience that he devoted to literature the time others gave to guzzling and gambling while Sallust, with equal loftiness, tells us he took to writing history rather than passing his time in farming and hunting. In Lucullus’ case he decided to build. Not, as we know, magnificent public buildings but sumptuous and exciting private palaces. Monetarily there would be no difficulties. We have already marked the stages in the growth of Lucullus’ fortunes. He had received from his father a patrimony that was at least adequate and had added to it at the time of the First Mithridatic War. Now there had fallen to him booty from his own war. We cannot tell how much is involved but it will be obvious from what follows that Lucullus was now a very rich man indeed. In a pre-industrial age outlets for spare capital were limited. In Lucullus’ case, he seems to have lent some of it at interest and in this activity he seems to have been associated with Q.Caecilius. It may be remembered from Chapter I that Lucullus numbered this uncle of Atticus among his friends. He had, in fact, advanced Caecilius’ interests and fortunes so that it was expected Lucullus would be his heir. Instead, Atticus was chosen and, if we can believe the story, the enraged Roman people dragged Caecilius’ corpse through the streets. Shor tly after this (56) the plebs were to g ive another demonstration of the love they felt for Lucullus but one wonders about the authenticity of the report of this particular one.2 However, as I stated above, the main outlet for Lucullus’ wealth was in the buying and adorning of choice properties. Even before he had gone out to meet Mithridates Lucullus had begun to indulge this taste of his. It will not be forgotten that in 67 when Gabinius was trying to discredit Lucullus and paint him as a man unfit to command he flashed around Rome a picture of the villa the proconsul was having built in the fashionable town of Tusculum. However, we may doubt that it reached anything like its final magnificence until Lucullus himself returned and gave it his full attention. Some of it was perhaps built of that black marble which Lucullus had quarried on Melos and which was named ‘Lucullan’ after him.3 Of this material, then, was created a complex of buildings of

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magnificent size—a size indeed to arouse the disapproval of the censor if his eye had been cast in that direction. The severely practical Romans held that the size of the buildings on a farm should be directly in proportion to the acreage of that farm. In other words, the buildings should be no bigger than what was required to house the men and implements needed to work the land. Otherwise the censor could take action. In this instance Lucullus had left himself open to the well-known and customary rebuke that he had more to sweep than to plough.4 Among the more striking features of the house was one of the dining-rooms. This was not just a place to eat but also served as an aviar y. Thus a man might dine delicately and, while contemplating the fowl on his plate, at the same time watch its cousins flutter behind windows. This refined and exquisite pleasure was somewhat spoilt, though, by the smell from the birdrun. 5 In point of fact it is probably Lucullus’ banquets that contribute the major share to whatever fame he enjoys today. People who have never heard of the man will nod sagely when reference is made to ‘Lucullan banquets’.6 One of the ancients describes him as dining like a satrap. What. I suspect, particularly prompted this remark was his habit of decking the couches in purple. Stuff of this colour seems to have been in abundance in the Lucullan household. At any rate, when a praetor asked him for a hundred purple cloaks for a festival, Lucullus found he had so many that he could let him have twice that number. We know too that Lucullus’ guests drank from beakers set with precious stones and that, as they dined, they were entertained with choruses and recitations. Those who have left us any account of the food served seem to have concentrated on the cena or main course, where we are assured a great variety of meats was served and the pastry was of surpassing elaboration. Nothing is said of the gustatio (first course) or the secundae mensae (dessert). But, as the latter was a fruit course, we can be sure the cherry figured prominently here. Before Lucullus’ time Italy had known only of the hard variety of this fruit but to him is given the credit for bringing back from Pontus the sweet sort.7 And that is all we really know of Lucullus’ dinners. Sadly, perhaps, we are given no precise details of what was eaten and drunk. Indeed, we are not even told if the guests enjoyed themselves. What we have instead is one ambiguous anecdote, which could on one view be interpreted as meaning Lucullus

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lacked all self-control, and a number of other stories which unequivocally lay a heavy emphasis on his extravagance. According to the elder Pliny, when Lucullus attended public functions he was accompanied by a slave who had a special task. Just as the nomenclator reminded his master of the names of those he met so this man had the job of seeing that Lucullus did not eat too much. For Pliny this was proof-positive that Lucullus was incapable of disciplining himself. On a more relaxed view, we might say he was acutely aware of the problems of his position and took every precaution to minimize them. Another tale is told of a party of Greeks who stayed as guests of Lucullus over a number of days. They became scrupulous lest they should be eating him out of house and home. They were soon reassured. Lucullus was, indeed, spending some of his money on them but most of it on himself. On another occasion Lucullus dined alone and only a modest repast was set before him. The steward, called to account, excused himself on the grounds that nobody else was coming to dinner, only to be told Lucullus was dining with Lucullus. This reminded Plutarch of yet another tale. Cicero and Pompey, evidently only half-believing the stories about Lucullus’ extravagance, accosted him as he was lounging in the Forum and asked to be invited to dinner on that day. They wished, they said, to partake of the meal Lucullus would have had if he were eating alone. Lucullus tried to put them off but the most they would allow him was to instruct a slave to make ready the Apollo room. But this was enough. Every Lucullan dining-room—this one was in Rome—had its own budget and a dinner in the Apollo cost 200,000 sesterces.8 Other parts of Lucullus’ villa were, however, dedicated to more cerebral pursuits. A portion of the house was actually a library whose quality was widely recognized. Some of the books formed part of Lucullus’ eastern booty and, as we might have guessed, its holding in philosophy was particularly strong. Lucullus welcomed visitors, and the tradition was maintained after his death. We learn, for instance, of a visit made by Cicero during Lucullus jnr’s minority. He had crossed over from his own villa nearby in order to borrow some books. In the father’s lifetime there was an especial welcome for Greeks, and all the rooms were thrown open to them. Lucullus himself would often mingle and converse with the scholars. Many of the men who called were actually in Rome on official business and they naturally approached the great

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philhellene for advice and assistance in presenting their case to the Roman authorities.9 We have already met Lucullus once or twice in the role of an art connoisseur. The most recent illustration of this trait was his plucking of a choice piece of statuary depicting Hercules from his spoils to adorn a public place. So we learn now of a large private collection. Although we cannot be absolutely sure it seems like enough that it also was housed at Tusculum and, as with the library, was open to a selected public. If there is some doubt about the location we can, I think, nevertheless, be reasonably sure that the statue of Autolycus and the globe of Billarus taken from Sinope found their way into this collection. Not everything there, however, had its origin as booty. We know that Lucullus paid two talents at Athens for a copy of the Wreath Girl, a famous work by one Pausias of Sicyon. He was also a patron of the sculptor Arcesilaus and gave him a commission for a statue of Felicitas. The work, however, was never finished, as death overtook both of them before it could be completed.10 The overall impression created by the Tusculan villa was one of openness and light. We hear of viewing-platforms, banqueting-halls and walks that were largely exposed to the air. This, so the story goes, moved Pompey to remark during a visit that Lucullus had built well for summer but not for winter. His host simply laughed and asked if he supposed he had less wit than the migratory bird which changed its home with the seasons.11 And this particular bird did have a choice of places to which he might fly. He might, for instance, have gone to his great gardens in Rome where stood the mansion with the celebrated Apollo Room. These Horti Luculliani were laid out on the Pincian Hill immediately above the place where the Aqua Virgo emerged from the hillside. Little trace of them survives but we may suppose they resembled in some ways the formal gardens of the eighteenth century AD. They were much admired and in imperial times were still lauded and coveted. 12 These pleasure gardens must, of course, be strictly differentiated from the vivaria or game preserves that Lucullus also owned. Somebody called Fulvius Lippinus of Tarquinii (Tarquinia) is said to have been the first to introduce these things into Italy but we are assured the better-known names of Lucullus and Hortensius were not slow to imitate him. To illustrate the kind of use these places might be put to we have another story involving Pompey. Once when the

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great man was ill his doctors recommended he eat a thrush. None was to be had, not because the cacciatori had got there first, but because it was the wrong season, since the thrush in Italy is a migratory bird. Hearing that some were to be had in one of Lucullus’ preserves, Pompey, nevertheless, refused to ask for one. He ate something else instead and asked would he be doomed if Lucullus were not a luxurious liver?13 Thus far we have seen Lucullus nurture the beasts of the field and the birds of the air. Now, as we examine his Campanian properties, we shall find him, among other things, looking after the fish of the sea. The first place we must speak of is the island of Nesis (Nisida). It lay in the sea roughly off Puteoli (Pozzuoli). We know that, along with the rest of his property, it passed from Lucullus to his son but what, if anything, he himself did there we know not. Indeed, its fame at this period seems to rest on the size of its rabbit population and the fact that Cicero had a meeting there with Brutus the tyrannicide.14 Far more interesting is the villa of Lucullus which is variously described as being near Baiae or on Cape Misenum. 15 This looseness in designating the site need not cause distress. Baiae is, anyway, near Misenum and those who have studied the matter have come to the conclusion that, as a general rule, references to the location of villas in ancient authors are rarely precise. Furthermore, since many of those who wrote about the villas of the Bay of Naples were stern moralists who heartily disapproved of the alleged luxury of such places, they would want to emphasize their nearness to Baiae, a town that had a reputation for dissolute and loose living.16 We do learn, however, from the sources that Lucullus’ villa was perched on a hill and in consequence scholars have been able to locate it either on the north-west ridge of Monte Miseno or on the nearby Monte di Procida.17 Lucullus appears to have bought the place after his return from the east.18 But before that it had had a rather interesting history.19 The first known owner was the great Marius. He was duly castigated for living in a style altogether too luxurious for someone who was supposed to be a warrior. Some, however, remarked that the house wore something of the aspect of a military camp and pointed out that Marius had used his skill in constructing such things to design a home that took full advantage of the commanding view the site afforded. Even his foe

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Sulla was to declare that all the others who built there were as blind men compared to him.20 During the proscriptions, when the goods of the proscribed were often sold at knock-down prices, Cornelia, Sulla’s daughter, seems to have got herself something of a bargain when she acquired this villa for 75,000 sesterces. It was she who later sold it to Lucullus for the considerably larger sum of 10,000,000 sesterces.21 Needless to say, this transaction evoked comment in antiquity. Plutarch observed that here was evidence for a rise in prices and an increased demand for luxury items. This is a fair, if rather obvious, comment but we should bear steadily in mind what was said in our first chapter. This kind of thing is not to be taken as demonstrating that Lucullus and his friends were some kind of fatty degenerates. On a dispassionate view we may recognize that this was an age when the desire for the intellectual and the civilized amenities of life went hand in hand with the means to acquire them. One can only ask where lay the virtue in the men of Lucullus’ time dining, like their ancestors, off acorns and professing to despise things Greek. True, Lucullus and his contemporaries failed to solve the political and other problems that faced them but can we say, in our technological age, that we have done better? In short, if we are to understand Lucullus, one of the things we must acknowledge is that there is no correlation between life-style and political wisdom, as Praecia, for instance, might have observed.22 But to resume the history of this place. Like Lucullus’ gardens it eventually passed into the imperial domains and was destined, on one more occasion, to witness an historic event. It was here, in 37 AD, that the emperor Tiberius died.23 Lucullus, for his part, seems to have paid Marius a soldierly tribute. So far as we can tell, he altered nothing here, being, presumably, well satisfied with the arrangements of his great predecessor.24 Lucullus’ creative energies seem to have been principally directed towards the third of his Campanian properties. This was somewhere in the region of Naples. It is a matter for regret that we cannot be more precise than this, for it would surely be fascinating to contemplate even the sad ruins of what was, arguably, Lucullus’ most spectacular creation. 25 Many of the buildings were actually erected on platforms that had been built out and stretched over the sea. This kind of bravura display was all the rage at the time. To defy nature in this wise was for the

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Romans something of a fashion, although in the next generation it was to prompt the poet Horace to melancholy reflection on the essential vulnerability of mankind. A landowner might thus master the seas but ever he would be stalked by Fear and Threats.26 What seems to have been particularly striking, though, was the channel Lucullus had dug through a mountain. This carried the—admittedly feeble—tides of the Mediterranean into a series of canals. These canals surrounded those buildings of the property that were located on land. In them there lived Lucullus’ fish, who were thus refreshed by the regular change of water. 27 The learned Varro is very informative on the subject of piscinae (fish-ponds) and their owners, who are usually styled piscinarii (fish-fanciers). According to him, a fish-pond could have either fresh or salt water. Those who kept the former did so with an eye to profit, but from the latter nothing save pleasure was to be gained. As a typically hardheaded and tight-fisted Roman, Varro was quick to point out that from every aspect, be it building, stocking or maintenance, these salt pools cost a great deal of money. We have just seen these were not considerations that weighed much with Lucullus. In truth, just as with the piers, so with the fish he was touched with a mania that had gripped many other Roman nobles. One of the widespread hobbies of the age was the keeping of fish as pets. But, although Lucullus followed the mode, his behaviour, so far as we can tell, was free from some of the more grotesque features that attended the fad. We hear, for instance, of fish being given pet names and being decked with jewels. Some owners apparently fretted more over a sick fish than a sick slave and, if one of the pampered creatures actually died then his desolate master might even don mourning garb. After all that, it may be superfluous to add that few could actually bring themselves to dine off their finny friends.28 But, moderate or not, Lucullus has not escaped censure for his fish-ponds. Once more the anecdote centres on Pompey. Seeing the tunnel through the mountain, he is alleged to have remarked that Lucullus was an Xerxes in a toga. This, of course, was in reference to a tunnel that the Persian king had dug through Mount Athos during his invasion of Greece. We may beg leave to doubt if a compliment was intended here. Xerxes’ expedition had failed and he himself was believed to be impious or slightly crazed or perhaps both.29 Now in all these little anecdotes about Lucullus and Pompey

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both men play well-defined roles. Lucullus has given up serious matters and devoted himself to luxury and trifling. Pompey is the catalyst who provokes the reaction that throws this into relief. By implication, too, I think we are meant to see him as a man of affairs who stands in strong contrast to the idle Lucullus.30 Perhaps the first feature that seems a little odd is this: despite the barb hidden in the remark about Xerxes, the pair are represented as being on civil—nay relatively friendly—terms. Does this mean, then, they had at last put their quarrels behind them? Perhaps, but it must be frankly admitted we cannot say for certain. Lucullus was of a placid temperament but, like many such, exceedingly dangerous when roused and prodded into action. The man who meekly endured Glabrio’s rebuke was the same who conducted against the Servilii the most bitter feud Rome had ever known. Once Lucullus had almost thumped Pompey and he had blocked his eastern settlement. Was this really the man whom our anecdotes depict as having reasonably good relations with his old foe? Yet another feature of these tales increases our disquiet on this point. The ubiquity of Pompey is suspicious in itself and leads to the suggestion that some of the tales are outright concoctions or, at least, have been subjected to the hand of the improver. When the writer, be he rhetorician, moralist or philosopher, came to tell his pointed tale what better way to lend it weight than to introduce into it a worthy foil for Lucullus in the shape of Pompey the Great. In one instance we can even detect the hand of the artist about its work. In one version the jibe about Xerxes is not attributed to Pompey but to a man called the Stoic Tubero. It looks as if, in at least one retelling, a somebody has been put in the place of a nobody.31 So, from an optimistic viewpoint, we can, if we wish, take these stories for evidence of improved relations between Pompey and Lucullus in the last years of his life.32 But even from the sceptical standpoint, which I personally favour, that wonders at Pompey’s alleged participation it is not possible to deny that these anecdotes are in harmony with the view Lucullus’ contemporaries had now formed of him.33 To trace that formation is not too difficult. I have tried to convey to the reader that, after his return from the wars, Lucullus’ building, on a scale of magnificence rarely seen at Rome, was such as would bedazzle and bewitch. At the same time I have

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pointed out that, while Lucullus’ contributions to public life did not, as some think, dry up, his part was now distinctly a secondary one. His voice was no longer as loud in senate and forum as it once had been. In consequence men simply paid more attention to and talked more about that portion of his activities which was the more exciting and colourful. To put it briefly: it was Lucullus’ private life rather than his public deeds that preoccupied the Romans of his own day. And, as I have argued, Lucullus had only himself to blame. It had been as his own free choice that he devoted more time to the arts of leisure. The evidence suggests, I think, that he did try to arrive at some mean between his private and public activities but he will have been very ignorant of human nature if he assumed people were going to make a balanced assessment of what he was about. The eloquent Cicero was certainly not one to do this. Cicero had no time for Lucullus’ manner of living and in one of his published works, De Legibus, he delivers a stinging rebuke to Lucullus, now dead for some years.34 According to this account, Lucullus answered a charge of excessive luxuriousness levelled at his Tusculan villa by saying that an eques lived above him and a freedman below. Did people really expect that his place should be less well appointed than theirs? Cicero claimed, however, that their desire for luxury was all Lucullus’ fault. If he had not indulged his own taste for it these others would not have followed his example. A man in Lucullus’ position ought to know better. In one sense this is fairly standard Roman moralizing fare, and sorry stuff at that, but in another it acquires great importance for it shows how, within a few years of his death, Lucullus’ reputation as a luxurious creature was firmly established. So much for Cicero’s public utterance. Had Lucullus, however, been able to peep into his correspondence which was not for publication he would have found much worse and might with justice have claimed that he and his friends were being traduced and vilipended there. As late as 25 January 61 Cicero was able to say that both Hortensius and Catulus were politically active.35 Almost a year later on 20 January 60 he is complaining that nobody can be found to deal with Flavius and his agrarian bill. Among those condemned are the piscinarii. Lucuilus is not named but self-evidently he is of their number.36 Early in June of the same year the piscinarii are attacked again and it is alleged they care for nothing except their mullet.37 Here then we have the

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earliest depiction of a figure still familiar today: Lucullus the flabby, back from the wars, lolling by his ponds, indifferent to the fate of the republic. Ironically this picture was being painted at precisely the time Lucullus and his friends were making life very uncomfortable indeed for Pompey and his followers.38 Fortunately, we can see why Cicero should speak in this way of men who were, on the whole, his natural allies. He tells Atticus, in a letter of the 15th March 60, that the fish-fanciers were jealous of him and sometime later (after 13 May) he repeated this charge and added that he himself since the death of Catulus had been the only one to follow the optimate road. 39 Egoism, overweening vanity and an exaggerated sense of his own importance have all contr ived to lead Cicero into what looks like deliberate misrepresentation. Yet, it must be acknowledged that once an estimate of a man for good or ill is fixed in the common consciousness it remains fixed there and tends to be passed from generation to generation so that no amount of appeal to reasoned argument can overcome the prejudice.40 So it is with Lucullus. Thus, for the historian Velleius Paterculus, writing in AD 30, Lucullus was undoubtedly a great man but unfortunately he was also the first to set a fashion for extravagance in building, banquets and furnishing.41 His near-contemporary (died circa AD 41) the elder Seneca was certainly in no doubt as to what was the dominating trait of Lucullus’ character: love of luxury. This was a ‘fact’ as well established as Sulla’s cruelty.42 We may recall, too, that the elder Pliny (died AD 70) told that story of the warning slave at the banquet and drew from it the conclusion that Lucullus was, by nature, a guzzler. 43 In the second century AD Lucullus became the butt of one of the famous sarcasms of the Christian writer Tertullian. Bacchus had been made a god for what he did for the vine; it was a shame that Lucullus was not similarly honoured for his services to the cherry.44 From the end of that same centur y we have a work called the Deipnosophistae (Banquet of the Savants) by one Athenaeus. This windy writer, in two separate places in his work, delivers the same verdict on Lucullus. 45 Citing as his authority Nicalaos of Damascus, an historian of the first century BC, he first delivers a judgement resembling that of Velleius: Lucullus took the lead in introducing luxury into Rome. He then becomes almost Plutarchean. Lucullus up until the end of the wars had been a

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model of sobriety. After that he went to pieces. 46 Coming to the fourth century AD we meet with a work entitled De Viris Illustribus. The anonymous author of these lives of famous men devotes, on average, about half a page in modern printed text to each subject. In common with many others, that devoted to Lucullus is rich in error and omission but the writer still finds time to assure us that Lucullus was over-preoccupied with clothes and that he lusted after statues and paintings.47 And even a more worthy representative of that age, Ammianus Marcellinus, knew Lucullus not just as a soldier but as the benefactor of the cherry. 48 So, now when we re-read Plutarch’s remarks about a sponge and find him dividing Lucullus’ life into a period of vigour and then a period of ignoble repose we can see that he stands foursquare in that tradition which makes of Lucullus a dissolute bon viveur for the latter part of his life. That same source which yielded the splendid metaphor of the sponge has more of the same. It is an essay in which Plutarch debates whether old men should transact public business, and when he wrote it Plutarch was in no doubt as to what kind of an old man Lucullus had become. He had put aside military affairs and political business and, in his listlessness, he devoted himself to baths, banquets and buildings.49 But, if Cicero is condemned out of his own mouth, Plutarch is damned by one of his own texts. In that portion of his Life devoted to the supposed indolent old age of Lucullus he has, as we know, let slip enough information to show that, contrary to his thesis, the subject was very active indeed.50 The picture of Lucullus as a flabby trifler which has come down to modern times owes most, I suspect, to Cicero and Plutarch. Of all the ancient authors these were among the most read and the usual unthinking reverence of the humanist for the antique would hardly be conducive to detecting the malignancy of the orator or the credulity of the biographer.51 Even into our own day Lucullus has been depicted as frittering away his last years in idleness. Perhaps the most entrancing expression of this idea comes from Ronald Syme, ‘secluded like indolent monsters in their parks and villas, the great piscinarii, Hortensius and the two Luculli, pondered at ease upon the quiet doctrines of Epicurus and confirmed from their own careers the folly of ambition, the vanity of virtue’.52 Yet, even though we have demonstrated this picture to be false

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and have tracked that falsehood to its origins, there still remains something to be done. If we have been able to put into perspective and balance Lucullus’ public and private life then, perhaps, we should be able to offer a more sympathetic view of the latter than is fashionable today. The first point to be made is that, in embarking on his building programme, Lucullus was not alone. Many rich men of his time also chose to spend their wealth on similar projects.53 In acting thus they were, on the whole, simply following models and precedents. So far as gardens are concerned the Romans seem to have discovered about the end of the second century that they might exist as much for pleasure as for utility. Hence when Lucullus laid out his great horti on the Pincian hill he was, from one viewpoint, doing no more than taking a stage further a practice already well developed at Rome. By the same token Hellenistic kings had amused themselves with fish-ponds long before the Romans had ever heard of them. Again, the world knew of vivaria before Lippinus brought them into Italy. As he travelled about Asia Lucullus cannot but have seen there the extensive parks that dotted the countryside. These had taken their rise with the Persians who took an especial delight in their amenities and styled them ‘paradises’. 54 But, in assessing the oriental influences on Lucullus one possible source seems to have been overlooked—the city of Tigranocerta. According to Appian the high walls of this place contained stables in their base. Nearby there stood a palace with great parks, hunting-grounds and lakes.55 In view of what we have learnt of Lucullus in this chapter, I do not think it fanciful to suggest there is a certain resemblance between this eastern scene and Lucullus’ own Italian estates. There is a delicious irony in contemplating at least the possibility that something of the city he had flattened lived on in his own creations. But putting Lucullus into his historical context or delineating the traditions in which he stood brings us straight back to an issue with which we opened this chapter: the reason Lucullus chose to stand in this tradition. I suggested there that character has something to do with it and we may now expand on this a little. Lucullus was a cultivated man. He spoke and wrote Greek with equal facility. He was interested in literature and philosophy and he had the collector’s eye for painting and sculpture. In short he was possessed of the aesthetic impulse and I do not think it

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altogether fanciful to suggest that his parks and palaces were another expression of that impulse. In judging any work of art there is inevitably an element of subjectivity involved. Since we are talking principally of architecture here we might instance baroque churches. Nobody will deny that an aesthetic impulse created them, yet for some they are objects of delight while to others they are but hideous confections. In the case of Lucullus the problem of judgement and appreciation is compounded by the fact that his creations have vanished and we are left with imperfect literary descriptions. I readily concede that on the basis of those descriptions we might dismiss Lucullus’ houses as the mere vulgar product of a vulgar mind. But, from that same evidence, I would argue that something more subtle was at work here. From the description of the villa at Tusculum we can divine that an overall plan lay behind. Of set purpose Lucullus created a whole whose impression was a pleasing one of airiness and light. That same master hand positioned the buildings themselves so that he might derive the maximum enjoyment from the countryside in which they lay.56 Perhaps Marius was not the only old soldier to use his military talents to create a dwelling of delight? That sense of the surreal that created a room at once an aviary and a dining-room finds its greatest expression in the Neapolitan villa. There the sea becomes land and the land becomes sea. Salt channels course through the shore while piers thrust out into the waves.57 However imperfectly, we are catching a glimpse of the discreet charm of the Roman aristocracy that would have delighted the camera of Buñuel. But, whatever aesthetic judgement we make on Lucullus, his public activities prevent us from joining in the common and facile verdict often passed on his life as a whole at this time, that he was creating for himself a world of his own, miniature and perfect, to which he had withdrawn to escape from an increasingly harsh reality. Rather, we should have to say that here was a man who had come to a recognition of the limitations of his own power and position58 and, acting on that recognition, had created for himself a way of life that combined continued duty to the state with the pursuit of private pleasure. Yet any attempt to revise the current picture of Lucullus must, in the end, yield much to Plutarch. In truth, there did come a time when Lucullus withdrew completely from public affairs and shortly thereafter lost his wits. Where the Greek biographer errs is

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in his dating. The great divide—chasm is perhaps not too dramatic a word—in Lucullus’ life came not in 66 but in 59 and, it may be said, as a direct result of the events of that year. Lucullus’ last recorded public appearance was as a juror in the trial of L.Valerius Flaccus (pr. 63) which is probably to be dated to September of the year 59. Flaccus was charged with repetundae in the province of Asia. For Lucullus the case presented something of a dilemma. In 70, along with reform of the laws governing the tribunate, there had, as we noted some time ago, come changes in the composition of juries. Now senators, equites and tribuni aerarii shared the benches and it might, perhaps, be felt that Lucullus should show a certain tender regard for a fellow member of his own order, especially one who had played a prominent part in crushing Catiline. Further, there was talk that Pompey had engineered the accusation and this, it could be said, was a factor that might have weighed with Lucullus. On the other hand, regardless of whoever engineered the accusation, opinion then and now tends to the view that Flaccus was guilty as charged. Lucullus then must have wondered if he was really going to vote for the acquittal of a man whose behaviour in the same province he had once governed was the very antithesis of his own and, indeed, violated the principles of provincial government that he had enunciated from the time of his praetorship. Cicero was well aware of these tensions and did his best to play on them. Among many other things, it was alleged that Flaccus had contrived to get hold of a legacy rightfully destined for another. Turning to Lucullus, Cicero reminded him that he had received many legacies from grateful provincials. Was he going to give them up if somebody turned up and claimed them? This sort of thing is of a piece with the rest of the speech where the charges are hardly ever addressed and most of the time is spent abusing Greek witnesses. Elsewhere Cicero boasts of throwing dust in the eyes of the jury; in this speech he may be said to have raised a veritable sand-storm. By Cicero’s own admission Lucullus’ legacies were the gifts of a grateful province openly given, while from his own wriggling it is clear there is something slightly amiss with Flaccus’ transaction. But by bringing these two disparate entities into comparison Cicero obviously hoped to convince the jury that Flaccus had done no wrong. He had only done what that model of probity, Lucullus, would have done. And the model of probity might like to reflect if he really were all

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that different from the grubby one? How far Cicero’s argument determined the result of the trial we do not know but we do learn that Flaccus was ultimately acquitted.59 If Cicero was paying Lucullus a back-handed compliment at this trial, a little earlier, probably in August, an even more dubious accolade had been bestowed on him in the Vettius affair. L. Vettius was an eques who had already acquired a nasty reputation as a professional informer when he approached a young man, C. Scribonius Curio, who was well known to be an enemy of Pompey’s, to tell him that he was resolved to kill Pompey. The young man told his father, who passed on the story to Pompey. Eventually the matter came before the senate and there Vettius gave a list of names. The young men on it, he claimed, were planning assassination, and foremost among them was Curio jun. Unfortunately, he damaged his testimony by claiming that his own weapon—a dagger—had been supplied by another opponent of Pompey’s, the consul M.Bibulus. The latter had, in fact, warned Pompey of a plot on 13 May. Vettius was now kept in custody overnight and on the next day Caesar and his henchman, the tribune P.Vatinius, produced him at a contio. The list of conspirators had now changed and new names had appeared. Among them was that of Lucullus. Vettius claimed that he was using another Pompeian opponent, the tribune C.Fannius, as a go-between. The new list, however, did not carry much conviction either and Vettius was lodged once more in prison to await trial de vi. A few days later he was found dead and there were not a few at Rome who were prepared to believe he had been murdered.60 It hardly needs to be said that this is a strange business. More questions can be asked of it than can be answered with any confidence. Was Vettius privy to a real plot against Pompey? If he was then I, for one, am not prepared to believe that Lucullus was a part of it. The inclusion of his name on that second list was about as justified as that of Cicero who also figured on it. Again, what did Vettius hope to gain? Was he a kind of Titus Oates, hoping to exploit that streak of paranoia which some have detected in Pompey’s character? Or did someone else stand behind him? And was that someone Caesar, as Cicero thought? We could go on but, fortunately, from the point of view of the biographer of Lucullus, the matter is relatively simple. When he found that his initial list failed to carry total

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conviction, Vettius was faced with the pressing necessity to produce one that would. In order to lend the thing some air of verisimilitude it would have to contain the names of men who were known to be political opponents of Pompey in the hope that some, in a year in which political quarrels had been pursued with incredible bitterness, 61 might be prepared to believe that these opponents would carry enmity to the point of murder. Given the history of Lucullus’ relations with Pompey, he was a natural choice for inclusion. The enmity between the two was still very much alive and had found expression in the course of 59. Now, as in the previous year, Lucullus had striven to thwart the schemes of Pompey and his henchmen. Thus, when Vettius put him on his hitlist he was, in an odd sort of way, reflecting his contemporary importance and paying a compliment to his standing. Lucullus was there because he was a force whom Pompey and his friends had had to overcome, a foe who could not be ignored. When, in 60, Lucullus had helped to squash Pompey’s request for veteran settlements and ratification of his eastern arrangements we can be sure that his sense of satisfaction at striking this blow against a hated enemy was great. Yet, in retrospect, it can be seen as a very bad move indeed. In fact Lucullus himself must soon have realized that, in failing to treat Pompey in the same statesmanlike fashion as he had done during his consulship, he had done more harm than good. In putting the pursuit of a private quarrel before the public good he had imperilled the state. For Pompey did not acquiesce in the rebuff but soon returned to the fray accompanied by new helpmates. These, however, were no longer pliant stooges like Afranius but men of substance, possessed of ability and independent influence. First, there was Crassus. Now, when a pair such as this he down together we may be sure this was a marriage of convenience and, actually, the matchmaker seems to have been the third man in the bed, Julius Caesar (cos. 59). He appears to have convinced the other two that if they acted individually then their opponents would prove too strong for them. But should they sink their differences and form a troika they might all accomplish their desires. What Pompey desired we know. Crassus seems to have thought largely in financial ter ms. Late in 62 the publicani made application to the senate for a rebate of part of the taxes of Asia. The normally profitable province had been so ravaged by the Mithridatic War that the financiers were unable to recover their

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costs. Crassus, who most likely had his own interests in the area, pressed their suit in the senate only to have the request thrown out by Metellus Celer and his friends. If the remedy for this state of affairs meant not only abandonment of opposition to Pompey62 but actual co-operation with the man then Crassus was prepared to embrace it. Further, he may have also reasoned that when commissioners were appointed to oversee the settlement of Pompey’s veterans he could contrive to be one and thus increase his own influence. Although I have suggested that Lucullus may have wanted to embarrass Caesar during the Bona Dea affair, they do not, so far as we can tell, seem to have had much to do with each other up until this.63 Now, in the year 59, they collided head-on and, in their collision, I do not think it fanciful to find a symbolic significance: the champion of senatorial government opposed the future autocrat. The old order had literally come face to face with the new. Caesar had barely escaped with his life from the Sullan proscr iptions. A br ief , and by no means comprehensive, conspectus of his activities thereafter reveals without a shadow of a doubt where his political sympathies lay. Twice in the early 70s he prosecuted leading Sullan henchmen. He supported the calls for the restoration of tribunician powers and the return to public life of the followers of Lepidus and he backed Gabinius’ piracy law. Symbolic gesture was equally unequivocal. When his aunt Julia, widow of Marius, died he had effigies of the Marian family carr ied in the funeral procession, although this was forbidden by law. Nor are we talking here of sand without lime. This was no mere ambition unsupported by ability. Caesar’s repute is well known, so there is no need to labour the point. One instance will, I trust, be as instructive for us as I suspect it was for men of his own time. I speak of his feud with Catulus. When the chief pontiff, Metellus Pius, died in 63 Caesar, although not yet a praetor, dared pit himself against the veteran consular Catulus and, by lavish bribery, actually carried the day. Catulus then attempted to have his revenge with an unsuccessful bid to implicate Caesar in the Catilinarian conspiracy. For this Caesar made him pay. In 78 Catulus had been entrusted with rebuilding the temple of Capitoline Jove, which had been burned down in the first civil war. By 62 the work had not been finished and in that year, in

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his capacity as praetor, Caesar convened a contio at which he proposed Catulus be removed from charge of the work and his name erased from the temple wall. He further asked that the accounts be produced, implying as he did so that Catulus was guilty of some kind of fraud. The accused was given leave to defend himself but this was made the occasion of a further insult. Caesar would not allow him to mount the rostrum but compelled him to speak from the floor. Then, when Catulus’ friends hearing what was afoot began to crowd the meeting, Caesar simply called the whole thing off, being content with having inflicted this degree of humiliation. Little wonder then that when, in 60, Caesar hurried home from his province of Further Spain to sue for the consulship of 59 his enemies became uneasy. Radical legislation and other troubles could be expected from this quarter. So they had recourse to a crude device to stop him. By law Caesar was required to declare his candidature in person in the city. However, he was also seeking a triumph, which meant he could not cross the pomerium, as this meant losing the imperium that every triumphator had to possess. As it happened, there was simply not enough time to celebrate a triumph before polling day. Caesar, therefore, asked to be allowed to declare his candidature in absentia. But, thanks to Cato, the request was refused. Caesar elected to forgo his triumph and was duly made consul. This, if nothing else, must have driven him to the conclusion we stated earlier: if he were to accomplish anything as consul he would need the help of Pompey and Crassus. So what historians call the First Triumvirate came into being.64 In its own lifetime people were less subtle. Varro dubbed it the ‘three-headed monster’.65 And it was not long before the monster flashed its fangs. Early in 59 Caesar brought forward an agrarian bill by which both the plebs and Pompey’s veterans were to receive land. The scheme was to be administered by twenty commissioners and would be funded from the monies garnered in the east by Pompey. The inevitable and, as some believe, unreasoning opposition to this proposal was led by the other consul, M.Calpurnius Bibulus, who received vigorous and able assistance from his father-in-law Cato. Once more Lucullus joined in the fray but, after his prominent role in the previous year, he was content to resume his familiar part as a supporting player. Bitter conflict raged first in the senate

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and then before the people but it is not until he shares Bibulus’ final defeat and humiliation that Lucullus emerges into full view. On the day appointed for voting Bibulus made his way to the assembly to oppose the measure. He was accompanied by a crowd of supporters and prominent among them were Cato and Lucullus. However, they were soon set upon by the mob. Bibulus was pulled from the rostrum when he attempted to speak, his fasces were broken, and a bucket of filth was tipped over his head. A brawl next developed and along with his followers Bibulus was obliged to flee. Master of the field, Caesar was thus able to pass his law.66 Unnerving as this experience may seem to us, it did nothing to deter a seasoned political campaigner like Lucullus. When Caesar eventually went on to propose that most hated of measures, the ratification of Pompey’s acts in the east, Lucullus was ready and took charge of the opposition as he had in the previous year. The result, however, was disastrous. He engaged Caesar in a public debate only to discover this was not an Afranius or, for that matter, a Quinctius he was encountering. Caesar let fly a stream of accusations that so unmanned Lucullus that he dropped to his knees and begged forgiveness. The man who had once humiliated Catulus in a like fashion had met the man who had once meekly accepted Glabrio’s reprimand, although, in extenuation, we might plead that there is some reason to believe Lucullus was already in the grip of a debilitating illness that would have made him soft and yielding. But, however we characterize the two actors, it is easy to see how, after this scene, Caesar encountered no further difficulties with passing his law.67 So Lucullus played a vigorous part in the resistance to the schemes of the triumvirs. Yet, in actuality, it had brought him nothing save two public humiliations at the hands of his enemies. Furthermore, if Bibulus had literally had garbage poured over his head then we might claim that, in a metaphorical sense, Lucullus had suffered the same fate with the accusation of Vettius. And, viewing the matter from the aspect of the public good rather than private pride, he could not but have agreed with the judgement later entered by Plutarch that the state was diseased or, as one scholar puts it, that the activities of Caesar and his friends meant an ‘alternately frivolous and vulgar farce…was being made of the venerable organs and institutions of the old constitution’.68 Yet he does not seem to have sunk to the depths of depression

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reached by Cicero, whose reaction to the events of 59 was to declare that the commonwealth was in a truly desperate plight and that the republic was finished.69 Lucullus, in contrast, appears to have judged that even now something might be accomplished by political action. A visit, early in 58, from the same Cicero marks the beginning of a rapid and radical reassessment of this calculation. Clodius, having been officially made a plebeian, had had himself elected tribune and, having gathered unto himself gangs, was now embarking on a legislative programme. One proposal was that anybody who had condemned a Roman citizen to death without trial should fall under the aquae atque ignis interdictio. Thanks to his handling of the Catilinarian conspirators Cicero, arguably, could belong in this category and he was of course the target of the law since Clodius had not forgotten his evidence in the Bona Dea affair. By now (late February/early March 58) Clodius was pressing his enemy so hard that Cicero began to contemplate self-exile. However, in true Roman fashion, before taking such an important step he consulted with his friends and allies. Lucullus was on this list and, in fact, seems to have been the only one to argue that Cicero should stand and fight. As is well known, the advice was not taken and Cicero soon after slipped out of town, only to bewail thereafter that this had been a mistake. In giving his counsel Lucullus seems to have had two considerations in mind. He must have realized that for Cicero personally a retreat now would result in a disastrous loss of face. But Lucullus also saw that he was losing an ally or rather, in view of the part he now elected to play in public life, a man whose initiatives he was prepared to support. Then hard upon Cicero’s departure there came that of Cato, and it too was engineered by a law of Clodius. The troublesome one was shunted to one side by being despatched to oversee the annexation of Cyprus. The political extinction of these two men whom Lucullus judged best-fitted to provide in defence of his ideals the kind of leadership he, at best, was willing to give only fitfully now directly led to his quitting public life forever. Since there were no longer men whose leadership he might, with profit, follow and support Lucullus saw no point in continuing in politics and so he retired completely, saying that he was now too old for such things.

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According to yet another of those stories which are told about Lucullus and Pompey, it was the latter who delivered his political epitaph and in one version he is joined by Crassus in his verdict. Whatever doubts we may have about the authorship of the remark, it certainly reflects a view common in Lucullus’ day and not unknown in ours: if Lucullus was too old for public service he was too old to play the Sybarite.70 These unhappy circumstances were matched, nay surpassed, by the unhappiness of the retirement itself. In his last months in public view he showed some signs of wandering in his wits and, soon after his withdrawal, Lucullus lost them completely, so that he had to be put under the guardianship of his brother Marcus. This bald account, which is all we possess, would suggest to the modern reader that, perhaps, Lucullus fell victim to the dreaded Alzheimer’s Disease. The ancients had another explanation and, although as medicine it is nonsense, as social history it fascinates. It was said that one of his freedmen, Callisthenes, had administered a love potion to him which had the effect of driving Lucullus mad. When Marcus discovered what happened he turned Callisthenes out of doors and then took upon himself the management of his brother’s affairs.71 The circumstances that gave rise to such a story are as follows. In our day the chemistry of the brain is but imperfectly understood and in ancient times it was not at all. Thus any Greek or Roman who wanted to make the perfectly reasonable assertion that mental illness was not the work of the gods was driven, almost by necessity, to postulating the agency of some powerful outside substance. So those who would not accept, for instance, that the alleged madness of King Cleomenes of Sparta was a divine visitation for impiety had to propagate the notion that he got to be that way because he drank neat wine with Scythians.72 Among the Romans love potions were generally held to be dangerous things. Ovid, for instance, warns the suitor to avoid them. They will not make a girl mad with passion but simply mad.73 There seems to have been a certain reluctance to disclose what went into these brews74 but if what Theocritus details in his second Idyll can be trusted then one might conclude that the victim was more likely to throw up than freak out.75 In any case, in being numbered among such victims Lucullus takes his place in a select band. It was widely believed that the poet Lucretius

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and the emperor Caligula had had such philtres administered to them with similar unpleasant results.76 In his last days, then, Lucullus did indeed, as Plutarch says, become a sponge. Mercifully he had but a short time to spend as such. At a date which modern scholarship can locate between mid-December 57 and mid-January 56 his life, or rather existence, came to an end.77 When the death was announced, men, as so often happens, forgot the clouded last years and the bitter unsuccessful political battles that preceded them and remembered only the man who had been the great opponent of Mithridates. Lucullus, therefore, was granted the honour of a public funeral. The body was carried to the forum by young nobles to receive the eulogy customary on such occasions. At this point the mob intervened and tried to carry it away. The Roman people had not forgotten that Lucullus was their friend too and they proposed to pay him the signal honour of burial in the Campus Martius next to his friend Sulla. No preparations’ had been made for this and Marcus, who was soon to die himself, had to have recourse to prayer and entreaties in order to call them off. Then, as was originally intended, the body was taken for burial on Lucullus’ own estate at Tusculum.78

IX Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age

For the student of Roman history the downfall of the republic means, in essence, that the state, instead of being controlled by an oligarchy, was now in the power of one man.1 In accounting for this state of affairs the investigator usually does not confine himself to a purely political explanation but ranges over a number of factors invoking, for example, matters economic, social and military. Nor does he confine himself to the proximate causes of the change but attempts to trace their origin in the far-off past. The Gracchan age is often the favour ite starting-point for beginning the chronicle of decay but some even see the process as beginning with the great changes wrought by the Second Punic War.2 The biographer of Lucullus, of course, can hardly be unaware of the great changes that were in his day coming upon the Roman state. After all, his subject belonged to the last generation that knew a free republic and his ancient biographer counted it among his blessings that he was spared by death from seeing the civil war that destroyed the world he knew.3 Indeed, the very study of Lucullus’ career and its background permits us to make certain observations about the downfall of the republic itself. There can be little doubt that Sulla intended the system he devised to endure. He furnished the clearest proofs that he saw himself introducing a new age. Civil and military strife had been brought to an end and laws had been given to the Romans by which they might henceforth live in peace and harmony.4 In my view, an attempt to explain the failure to realize these ideals must take account not only of certain fundamental weaknesses in some of the laws but also of the attitude of the Roman ruling nobility towards the constitution itself and, we may 166

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add, its deviser. Viewed from the perspective of their late allegiances in the civil war, these were a heterogeneous lot. Some had been with Sulla since the day of his departure to the east. Others, in contrast, had been followers of Marius or Cinna who had become reconciled to their enemy. Again, some who had been enemies of Cinna showed, for a time, no desire to make common cause with Sulla and only joined him when the military situation appeared to warrant it. Many, too, were senators who had been caught in the middle and tried, in vain, to uphold the authority of the house by reconciling Sulla and his enemies. Yet, they all deserve to be labelled the ‘Sullan oligarchy’ for it was thanks to him they held their present position and he clearly intended that they should run the state.5 Yet if, from one viewpoint, this is a mongrel assembly, from another it shows great cohesion.6 The Roman oligarchy might not agree on much but on one thing there was virtual unanimity: any clear external threat to their position would be countered with vigour. Hence, for all of their differing motivation, Sertorius, Lepidus, Spartacus and Catiline all went the same way. Such hesitation as we do find may be attributed not to a fundamental self-doubt but to the natural slowness with which a corporate body like the senate sometimes moves and to a very real desire, in some cases, to avoid civil war. One taste of this had been enough for most people. But in the sphere of domestic policies no such cohesion is discernible. There, of course, the issue was not the survival of the state and its ruling oligarchy7 but the laws by which they might govern. Some, as might be expected, thought as Sulla himself had done. Reverence for their late chief and, I would insist, some kind of recognition, however dim, of the consequences of repeal led them to oppose any alteration whatsoever in the constitution that had been handed down. At the other extreme, we find men who once served the Cinnan or Marian interest and who, though admitted to favour, had lost none of their enthusiasm for the old cause. Julius Caesar, for instance, never made any secret of his hatred for the Sullan system. Somewhere between these extremes we may place the majority of senators. These appear never to have wholeheartedly accepted Sulla’s claims to be a great lawgiver and, in consequence, they did not share his view that his laws remain immutable lest disaster befall the state. They were not, as we might think, men imbued with a mission. We can detect

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among them no feeling of being entrusted with a sacred charge that, on no account, was to be betrayed. So, always provided there was no direct and immediate threat to their own power, then they were perfectly amenable to changes in the for m of government which left the essential character of the republic untouched, even though such changes might possibly bring peril in the future. This is nicely illustrated by what happened in the 70s. Then, vigour in foreign and slackness in domestic policies alike conspired to produce a set of conditions that were, ultimately, to be fatal to the republic. Some scholars believe that from about the middle of the second century the appetite of the Roman aristocracy for war had diminished somewhat.8 Whatever the truth of this assertion, there can be no doubt that when the time came to deal with Lepidus and Sertorius the government had found itself faced with a lack of suitably qualified generals and had had to have recourse to the private citizen Pompey and to confer on him a special command.9 Parallel with, and in strong contrast to, this decisive action, we have the dithering over the question of the tribunate. As I have suggested, there were two great weaknesses in Sulla’s measures for this office. He left its natural constituency, the plebs, untouched and, in barring holders of the office from further advancement, he, contrary to his own intent, created the conditions for further agitation. Of course his political heirs opposed this agitation but, in the absence of his authority, they could do no more than temporarily stay the course of events. Their auctoritas was simply not sufficient to carry the majority with them.10 As I have argued, the nobility could not or would not see in the revived tribunate a source of immediate danger and the heirs of Sulla were simply not strong enough politically to break their inertia. By the end of the decade the consequences of senatorial policies are clear and both spheres can be seen to converge. Pompey shared to the full the average noble’s commitment to the republic as well as his lack of strong ideological commitment to the present system. In his case, however, these characteristics went hand in hand with a determination that he should be the first man in the state. And in the restoration of full tribunician power he saw a means to achieve that goal. Returning as victor from Spain, he became consul for 70 and used his auctoritas to ensure that that restoration was car r ied out. Unlike the

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contemporary alterations in the courts, this represents the reintroduction of a source of strife into public life. A weapon for use against the senatorial interest had once more become available. For Pompey it was to be the means by which further great offices were to be conferred on himself. But if the Roman nobility showed a willingness to live with the consequence of yielding to agitation over the tribunate they showed none whatsoever when it came to living with the consequences of Pompey’s elevation. If they could not share Sulla’s view of the tribunate they most certainly subscribed to the dictator’s view of the menace Pompey was thought to pose. True, it was Sulla himself who first raised Pompey up and tur ned his head with signal honours but he had in time recognized he had created a monster and, after his triumph, never employed his erstwhile protégé in public office again. So, as I have suggested, it was chance that brought Pompey back into public life. The state needed a soldier and he was the only one available. I do not doubt that those who gave him command saw two things very clearly: he was the man for the job but he was also the man to demand a high price for doing it. In the hour of need the fir st consideration plainly outweighed the second but when the time came to address the second then the nobility can, in comfortable retrospect, be said to have been blind. They simply refused to grant him the position he craved and eventually drove him into the First Triumvirate from which, in the end, there came civil war. It may very well be true that we are talking here of the limits of the flexibility the Roman nobility showed with regard to Sulla’s constitution. On certain laws they would yield; on others they would not. A moment’s reflection will show, however, that we are not actually talking about the violation of a particular piece of legislation but of the essential spir it of Sulla’s constitution and that spirit—which dictated that no man might grow to an excessive greatness—was the very essence of the republican ethos, having of course existed long before Sulla. The stubborn refusal of Lucullus’ generation to dilute it was to cost them dear.11 But what part did Lucullus himself play in these events? If we disregard the more lurid colourings which Plutarch applies to it we can accept the Greek biographer’s view that the Third Mithridatic War marks the great division of Lucullus’ career. Early in that

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career he entered into the friendship of Sulla. From that powerful personality he learned the business of soldiering and imbibed his political philosophy. The first, and perhaps most telling, evidence for his devotion to that philosophy is to be found on the day Lucullus joined Sulla on the road to Rome when all other officers fled. Thus it came to pass that when Sulla died Lucullus naturally found a place among those men who made it the aim of their political life to defend the work of his dead friend. What is remarkable about this group is its relative powerlessness. They were unable to prevent Aurelius Cotta making the first breach in the provisions for the tribunate or to repeal his law, once passed. Lucullus’ own blocking of Quinctius and his agitation won for them a mere respite and in 70 they must needs yield to the superior auctoritas of Pompey. This weakness of the political grouping to which he belonged is mirrored in Lucullus’ own advancement. He began splendidly under the aegis of Sulla and even enjoyed the benefit of special legislation which enabled him to hold the praetorship suo anno immediately after his aedileship. Yet, after this he suffers something of an eclipse, certainly in comparison to Pompey. The extent of this same eclipse can be seen in the matter of the Mithridatic command. This was not conferred upon him by universal acclaim. Rather, he had to compete with the kind of mediocrities who were responsible for so many of Rome’s disasters at this time. Despite his years of service in both the Social and First Mithridatic Wars people did not believe he was a soldier and it was only by forming a judicious alliance with Cornelius Cethegus, a man whom he found personally obnoxious, that he obtained what he desired. His reaction to Pompey at this time is instructive. Although he had no love for the man, his response to a request for aid from Spain has rightly been described as statesmanlike. He recognized that should Pompey return prematurely then this could only result in strife in a state already hard pressed in other ways. Moreover it was intolerable that the man best suited for the job should be denied the supplies he needed in order to put an end to a renegade whose very existence was an affront to the majesty of Rome. Years later when Pompey came to claim his just reward for another successful campaign Lucullus was to be less generous but, by then, he was arguably a very different person. The Third Mithr idatic War marks a great psychological turning-point for Lucullus. For him personally it had ended

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disastrously. He had failed to wipe out Mithridates and had to leave the task to one whom he likened to a vulture. Moreover, that same vulture had rendered null and void all that he had done to erect Pontus into a province. Developments at Rome in his absence brought little cheer. The constitution he had laboured to defend had had holes driven in it, and this was no event to be lamented in the abstract, for it had brought immediate concrete consequences. The restoration of the tribunate to full powers brought with it the end of Lucullus’ command and the creation of new commands for Pompey. A further depressing consideration was the fact that Lucullus’ political allies were unable or unwilling to prevent his replacement and they continued to show their impotence when, upon his return, he had to wait three years for a triumph. To compound matters he found himself a laughing-stock through having been cuckolded in a novel fashion while abroad. Under these circumstances it should not cause surprise to find Lucullus acting as he did. He seems to have come to the conclusion that his auctoritas was not sufficient to permit him to play the part that he himself might, and others certainly did, wish, namely that of leader of the optimate interest. Instead, he determined to give more time than heretofore to the arts of leisure. But such was his sense of duty that he could not abandon public life altogether but instead elected to support, in a secondary role, those men who pursued policies of which he approved. His aim now was to achieve a judicious balance between public and private activities. That Lucullus abandoned his part as follower and took up that of leader only to thwart Pompey’s request for land and an eastern settlement is of considerable significance. No doubt like most of his class he found Pompey’s pretensions in general unacceptable and distasteful but there is, I feel, here an element of personal rancour. I shall say a little more about this side of Lucullus’ character shortly but here it is enough to observe that he was obviously intent on paying back his foe for what had happened in the east. Lucullus could evidently adopt what we called a statesmanlike approach to Pompey when his own position was not directly threatened and it was a question of helping the latter in the field. When it came to giving the acknowledgement for services rendered then Lucullus shared fully the outlook of the Roman nobility and his response was further sharpened by a deep

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sense of personal wrong. It is hard not to feel a certain sympathy for Lucullus in what he did but equally it has to be admitted that he did not act wisely. A mixture of lofty republican idealism and a desire for revenge worthy of his old friend Sulla combined to make of Lucullus the man who drove Pompey into the triumvirate. The man who fought to defend Sulla’s constitution was ironically the man who made the first move that precipitated the civil war in which it finally perished. In person Lucullus was tall and, in the judgement of antiquity, handsome. 12 This somewhat subjective verdict cannot now be verified. So far as I know, no coin bears his portraits. Statues there were once and also, one presumes, portrait busts but all have per ished. 13 But, on the assumption the ancients were not mistaken, then this commanding appearance, together with the sharp dress-sense that one source tells us Lucullus possessed, 14 cannot but have served to increase the impact he made on others. For instance, I do not see it as taking from that air of lofty hauteur with which he treated his soldiers. Nor will he have been ignorant of how appearance may aid oratorical delivery. His resolve to make his career in the field rather than the forum meant that Lucullus could never aspire to the achievements of a Cicero or a Hortensius but he was accounted a useful speaker and as such can hardly have been unaware of the importance of appearance and gesture.15 We catch a glimpse of the power of Lucullus’ oratory when we learn of how, in debate, he crushed the tribune Quinctius. But there must have been other occasions—for instance, when he sued for office—on which he managed to sway the populace with his tongue. Yet it was not just his voice that won the affection of the plebs. They greeted with approval the signal display he made of his love for his brother by delaying his own aedileship until they could both hold it together. This affection between Lucius and Marcus is one of the most pleasing features of Lucullus’ career. Born, seemingly, in their teens when they were left effectively fatherless, it endured unto death. At the same time, it has to be said that popular response to it was not unconditioned by the fact that the brothers had, as aediles, provided some splendid shows for the people of Rome. Further, we may note that Lucullus’ hold over the people was, to say the least, uncertain. It was they, it will be remembered, who gave ear to those who asked them to dismantle his command and delay his triumph. The polluctum on

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the day of triumph did a lot, I suspect, to restore the peoples’ confidence in Lucullus but, regardless of whether this is a true conjecture or not, the scenes at his funeral show that by then Lucullus had once more become the darling of the plebs. For those of us who believe that the role of the people in Roman history should receive greater emphasis from historians than has been heretofore the case then, I would submit, Lucullus’ dealings with them are instructive. To begin with, their attitude towards him is devoid of anything which might, however remotely, be described as an ideological colouring, for they showered their favours on someone who made no secret of the fact that he would keep firmly bound the shackles that held fast their magistrate, the tribune. One of the ways in which they were induced to do this was by the provision of games and shows. This situation, I suppose, might be described as one of political immaturity but it might also be indicative of an engrained hard-headed, albeit narrow, realism. In the absence of any desire for revolution or change the sovereign people were well aware that, as things stood, they were in a position to extract something from those who had, perforce, to seek their votes. On the other hand, ‘whimsical’ is perhaps the best word to apply to the other motive that fuelled the plebs at this time. They helped Lucullus to the praetorship simply because they liked the way he had treated his brother. But Lucullus also illustrates well the point that he who gains the favour of the people, by whatever means, can, in an instant, lose it again. The history of the later republic is littered with instances of this kind.16 In Lucullus’ case it was obviously his absence that was fatal to him. Gone meant forgotten, and new darlings with new proposals came to take his place. But what is lost can sometimes be easily regained. A good dinner did much to restore public confidence in Lucullus. In sum, those who would profit by Lucullus’ experiences must needs be ready to confer material benefit and be alert to the possibilities presented by a capricious people. They must also recognize that what they have gained may not be lasting.17 If we now go behind that tall imposing figure that Lucullus presents to the world we detect there something that can best be described as a yielding quality. Could we be sure he was not already in the grip of a debilitating illness, then his humiliation at the hands of Caesar would illustrate this point to a nicety. In the

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face of the onslaught Lucullus simply collapsed. As it is, however, we can still point to his early encounter with Glabrio. Then, it will be remembered, he meekly accepted the rebuke of the angry tribune. In its most benign aspect this tendency showed itself in the qualities of constancy and mildness which earned him the friendship of Sulla. But it has a darker side, too. We have spoken of the psychological blows struck by the Third Mithridatic War and its aftermath and how they caused Lucullus to radically rethink his position in public life. Perhaps it is not altogether fanciful to suggest that a stronger character might have come to a different conclusion. As it was, Lucullus’ tendency to yield may have predisposed him to succumb. This streak of quietism may also be invoked to illuminate certain other aspects of his political career. It may, for instance, explain why it is that although Lucullus plainly did not lack political ambition we do not detect in him that limitless thirst for power and glory which characterizes the likes of Caesar and Pompey. Moreover, this trait may partly explain why, although we laud certain of his acts as statesmanlike, we would deny him the title of ‘statesman’. In what may be described as his political heyday, namely the years before the Mithridatic War, we do not find him bringing forward bold new legislation or proposing daring initiatives. Instead, a conservative in every sense of the word, he is content merely to be the loyal servant of a great tradition. He can attend to detail and react to individual events but seems to lack any broad general concept of the problems of his age. A recalcitrant tribune needs to be squashed; Lucullus will do the squashing. For the good of the state Pompey must be helped; Lucullus, statesmanlike, will provide that help. Sulla’s ar rangements for the tr ibunate as a whole are proving unworkable; Lucullus has no solution to offer. Given that Lucullus was like this in the days of hope, it becomes readily explicable why, when disappointment came, he abandoned any pretence of being a political leader and elected to follow another. We have to recognize, though, that like many placid people Lucullus could be exceedingly dangerous. A great deal was needed to prod him into action but once roused the reaction was often far more terrible than that from people with a more choleric disposition. When his own or his family’s position or honour was threatened then Lucullus proved implacable. This mild-mannered man conducted a feud with the Servilii that was said to be the

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most intense in Roman history, and pursued Pompey relentlessly for the wrongs done him in Asia. It is behaviour like unto that of his friend Sulla. Indeed, mention of Sulla reminds us that the great dictator did not instruct Lucullus solely in matters military and political but also had a hand in his religious development. It was from this source that Lucullus learned to put his faith in dreams for it was therein that the gods sent their surest messages. Like Sulla, he also viewed Hercules as the god of victory and duly offered him sacrifice upon his return to Rome. For the rest Lucullus’ religious beliefs fall into a fairly conventional Roman pattern. Like many of his class he held a priesthood. In his case this was the augurate and his skill in the craft may, I suggest, have steeled his resolve on the day of Tigranocerta. Omens, too, he held in respect as on that day in Phrygia when he pulled back from battle after a burning object fell from the sky. Again, like many Romans abroad, he paid due reverence to local gods but carefully assimilated them to his own pantheon. Thus the Persian Artemis was thanked for help in crossing the Euphrates and was duly transformed into that Diana who had a shrine at Nemi. ‘Conventional’, too, is the word which comes readiest to mind when we try to place Lucullus in his social setting, for his lifestyle resembles closely that of many other aristocrats of the day. To understand it we must reject moralizing, ancient and moder n, and jettison too misplaced speculation about its deleterious effects on mind and morals.18 That done, we discover a world where a privileged elite ruled the vast majority of mankind who lived at subsistence level or hovered a little above or below it. The Roman nobility moved in a setting not unlike our own eighteenth century as they passed from senate house to town house to country house. The profits of empire had provided them with the means not only to procure all comforts but also to adorn their persons and property. Lucullus was only one of the many who took full advantage of the opportunity thus presented. Hand in hand with the increased amenities in the physical sphere went new possibilities to acquire the goods of the mind. At a time when proficiency in Greek had grown we find Lucullus having sufficient command of the language to compose a history in it. He turned to Greek philosophy, too, but in a way that was essentially Roman. He shunned its more austere and abstract aspects and, with the instinct of a true gentleman,

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interested himself chiefly in the comforts which some believe it may bring. Aesthetic satisfaction was found also in the poetry of Archias and the assembly of an art collection. The design, building and adorning of villas fulfilled a similar function. That these were luxuriously appointed we need not doubt but, over and above this, we detect in them the desire to create something of beauty and distinction. In an age which can be broadly characterized as philhellenic Lucullus’ fondness for the Greeks and things Greek can still be described as something exceptional. The proof of this is to be found in his treatment of places like Amisus. This town had long defied him, yet upon its capture it was restored and repaired and it owed this indulgence to the fact that it was a Greek city. Few of his contemporaries, one imagines, would have carried their philhellenism this far. Still, we must beware lest we assume from this openness and sensitivity to things Greek that Lucullus would have had an insight into the minds and characters of other peoples besides. The truth is far otherwise and this point is illustrated by the case of Tigranes. For Lucullus philhellenism wore two aspects: the cerebral and the emotional. By the cerebral I mean the intellectual delight he took in Greek arts and letters; by the emotional the delight he took in the company of living Greeks. There can, I think, be no doubt that he actually liked Greeks. Now, as regards Tigranes, I feel it safe to say empathy was completely lacking. He shared the common Hellenic view that he was a very pompous and a very nasty tyrant. And when the emotional element was lacking, so, too, was the cerebral. Lucullus simply could not bring himself to make the effort required to acquire an understanding on the intellectual plane of a man whom he instinctively detested. We know the consequences. The man who had taken pains to smooth down a troublesome tribune provoked a great king into war. In any enumeration of Lucullus’ talents diplomatic capacity must rank low. That special favour in time of war which, as we have just noted, was accorded to places like Amisus is not to be found in the civil sphere. Probity and correctness, not weakness and indulgence are the hallmarks of Lucullus’ provincial administration. This is observable from the very first in the way he ran Asia as pro-quaestor.19 Two tasks were allotted him: the collection of revenues and the reduction of Mytilene. The

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money he gathered with scrupulous fairness, avoiding all abuse, and to Mytilene he gave the chance to avoid extreme punishment by timely surrender. But we have no reason to suppose that he attempted to reduce the amount of cash demanded or that he proposed Mytilene should escape all chastisement for what it had done. With his proconsulate the pattern repeats itself. What is vicious is cut away but the provincials were not permitted to dodge or evade obligations held to be right and lawful. Thus a monstrous and unfair debtburden was wiped out but, at the same time, the principle that Asia should contribute to its own defence was rigidly adhered to. Allies were required to supply men and materials and special taxes were levied to meet the costs of the war. Surveying Lucullus’ career in its entirety, I have formed the impression that it may very well be that he was a happier man in Asia than he ever was in Rome. In marked contrast to the vicissitudes and complexities of political life, the soldier’s life is one of comparative simplicity and Lucullus seems to have welcomed that simplicity. Until near the end and its attendant difficulties there is no trace of faltering, no hesitation, no doubt and nothing of that occasional unsureness of touch which we detected in Lucullus the politician. Serene master of his art he applies with equal facility his own especial strategy of attrition or, at Tigranocerta, the tactics of the set battle. The man who elected to be led elsewhere is here clearly the leader.20 Naturally, there is a subjective element in this verdict but there is one fact which we cannot escape as we ponder the life of Lucullus. On a rough estimate, twenty-one years of that life were spent, by a man often branded as a sybarite, with the colours. One of the most striking features of the later Roman republic is the emergence of what we may call ‘professional armies’.21 The old-style citizen militia had not, of course, entirely died out but, from the time of Marius’ reforms in the late second century, we can detect a change in some of the armies Rome put into the field. They are composed of men whose way of life is soldiering.22 The force with which Lucullus fought Mithridates displays many of the features that we associate with such a professional army. To start at the top, or rather near the top. We know that very many of Lucullus’ officers were not following the time-honoured practice of using the army as an entrée into public life. Rather,

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they are men who are making a career of the army. As such, they fit easily into a pattern discernible elsewhere at this time. They, like others of their type, represent a new sort of professional officer.23 Passing from top to bottom, so to speak, we find the rankers of Lucullus’ army fulfilling the most important pre-requisite for professionalization: length of service. At a minimum Lucullus’ men will have seen seven years’ service (74–67) and most of them, notably the Fimbrians, will have had considerably more. Even those who would deny the existence of the kind of army I am attempting to describe here 24 readily admit that Roman soldiers of this time, whatever their origin, be it urban or rural, were often bound to Italy by only the most tenuous links. It has been suggested, for instance, that two or three campaigning seasons would be enough to ruin many a peasant.25 We might add that in many cases there may have been no ties at all. That was why they became soldiers in the first place.26 With this in mind, it is easy to see why, when Lucullus was done with them, the bulk of his army, and not just the Fimbrians, remained to serve with Pompey.27 Not only had their attachment to Italy been weakened by this time but, I suggest, many must have taken upon themselves new obligations in Asia.28 We can also claim, I think, that they had become habituated to their situation. Whatever vocation they might have had on enlistment (and many may have had none at all) had been forgotten, and soldiering had become their trade. In other words, in 67 we are witnessing a body of professional warriors embracing a further opportunity to ply their craft rather than packing up and going home.29 For such people material reward takes the form of booty and donatives on campaign with a parcel of land at its end. 30 To judge from the behaviour of Lucullus’ troops, booty assumed a far g reater immediate importance in their eyes than did the distant prospect of a farm. We hear a great deal about that booty or the alleged lack of it but very little about the farm. So far as I am aware, it is mentioned only in the course of Clodius’ mutinous harangue and then its context is significant. He told his audience that Pompey’s men were now settled on the land. In contrast with the heavy emphasis laid on present toil without immediate remuneration, the farm is described as something remote. It could be said to belong to an idyllic, albeit realizable future.31 Thus I would conclude that

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while the professional soldier did indeed truly want land at his career’s end he was quite willing to act as Lucullus’ men did and postpone that end and its reward if a fresh campaign offered the prospects of enrichment.32 Up to this time I have described the soldier’s desire for land as a kind of ideal and I should like to continue with this theme for a little while. That he should cherish this ideal was but natural. After all, agriculture was the means of livelihood of the vast majority of the population of the ancient world and many of these soldiers were themselves or ig inally of r ural or ig in. Further more, the notion that the Roman ar my should be composed of sturdy independent peasants, having received a fillip in the Gracchan age,33 was still dominant and to return to the land, after a campaign however long, was plainly consonant with this belief. But, however understandable the soldiers’ dream may be, it wears a tinge of the anachronistic, for these men represent something new in Roman history. They are professional soldiers, not a part-time militia or the like. So what, in effect, is happening here is that career soldiers, with a tenuous connection to the land, are being invited to turn themselves into peasants. New men are being required to conform to old patterns. Until the time came to actually settle down there is every reason to suppose that, being only dimly aware of the changes that had come about in the world, the soldiers were perfectly happy to do just that. But, on the day on which ideal becomes reality, the illusory quality of the cherished dream is revealed to them and us. True many of these men did become contented farmers but others, spoiled by years of soldiering, lacked the will or the ability to succeed and came to eventual ruin. Indeed, some, more reckless or perhaps just wiser in their generation, did not even try but sold their holdings for ready money.34 It is generally conceded that the great military men of the late republic used armies of the type we are talking about as the instruments with which to wage their civil wars. Lucullus, of course, does not belong in the number of such men but the very end of his military career does, in its own fashion, furnish a concrete and immediate illustration of the set of conditions that theor ists assure us must prevail before one can lead a revolutionary army and, in this particular instance especially, of the impossibility of such leadership in their absence. An army

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must be well disciplined and possess an esprit de corps, it should love its commander, have received or expect to receive substantial reward from him and, in what is obviously an ambiguous situation, believe in the rightness of his cause.35 At the beginning of 67 Lucullus proposed to resume his war against Mithridates, even though command had now been given to Glabrio. Compared with what Caesar was soon to do, this may seem like a comparatively minor transgression but it was definitely against the law and his troops insisted on this point. They would not accept the correctness of his decision and, standing firmly by the letter of the law, they refused to follow him. Yet, at the same time, they did not fall apart. Through a long and difficult campaign their relations with their general had, to say the least of it, lacked cordiality. Yet they had obeyed him. Herein, I think, we may detect not just the efficiency of the professional but the sentiment of the Roman who recognized where his duty to his commander and to the state lay. Now, with Lucullus powerless, his troops still carefully contrived to maintain their discipline and nurtured their esprit de corps. Nobody will deny, though, that the long history of bad relations between the commander and his troops coloured their decision in that spring of 67. They had had, it is true, substantial booty from him but, thanks to Lucullus’ tactless handling of the issue, they felt no gratitude but rather saw him as a mean and stingy man—and, over and above that, they found his haughty manners intolerable. Yet these traits need not have proved fatal to Lucullus for even in civil war, when discipline may be relaxed, severity can bring results.36 What it was that doomed this last enterprise of his was the fact that he did not possess a vital but ill-defined quality: the ability to win mens’ hearts.37 In this brief essay we have tried to set Lucullus firmly in the world to which he belonged. We may close it then, perhaps, by setting him against the three men who played the most important part in his career: Sulla, Pompey and Caesar. The first was responsible for launching that career and giving Lucullus his military and political education. Throughout it Pompey was a constant and often dangerous r ival while Caesar, however inadvertently, brought it to an end. In this quartet we have personified the gradual breakdown of the old republican ideal and its replacement by the imperial or autocratic outlook. Sulla may be seen as the last great representative of the old

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republican tradition. He wished merely to gain honour and glory for himself and his house by distinguished service to the state. Unfortunately, in his defence of the republic he found himself forced to use methods not seen before and, in the end, came, temporarily, to a position of power that some, at any rate, could claim was simply incompatible with the views he professed to hold. So it was that his legacy to the next generation was a contradictory one: a set of republican principles and an example that might be followed by anybody who wanted to overthrow the republic. Both Lucullus and Pompey had served under Sulla but, as the former was closer to the great dictator, it was but natural that he should absorb to the full his friend’s principles while avoiding his example. Like a true Sullan republican his whole career was devoted to public service and to countering threats to the constitution. Nowhere is there the slightest hint that he proposed to use force to make himself master. With Pompey we mark a subtle change. He too is a republican but his republic is not Sulla’s. It is a place where he has the first place and to achieve that place he is ready to profit by Sulla’s example. No less than Lucullus he had no intention of turning his arms against the state but he was not above hinting that he might. There was much to be gained by playing on fearful memories. With Caesar there is no such ambiguity. He held Sulla and his principles in contempt but, on the day he crossed the Rubicon, showed he had absorbed fully his example and that he proposed to destroy the state using the same methods Sulla had once used in its defence. On this note we may pass our final verdict on Lucullus and one that is, hopefully, more judicious than that allegedly given by Pompey and Crassus.38 A cultured and humane man, possessed of many talents, he did much good in his own lifetime and if he failed of greatness it may very well be because he lacked what was needful to achieve it in that age: ruthlessness.

Appendix 1

Asia 81–79

In the standard works of reference,1 the sequence of Asian governors immediately post Sulla and the events of the period are tabulated as follows:2 84–81: 81: 80: 79:

Murena governor of Asia. Ordered to desist from making war on Mithridates, Murena goes home to celebrate a triumph. He is replaced as governor by M.Minucius Thermus. Thermus, possibly with the aid of Lucullus, captures Mytilene. Both then return home. C.Claudius Nero arrives as governor. Nero’s governorship continues into this year.

In my view, this scheme stands in need of some considerable revision. Let us begin with Murena and his quaestor Lucullus. The embassy of Aulus Gabinius which made Murena desist from making war on the king is obviously to be located somewhere in 81.3 It should however be carefully noted that Gabinius seems to have been concerned solely with hostilities. We are not told he brought news of Murena’s successor and he himself certainly did not fill that role. Thus news of, or the arrival of, a new governor must be dated to late 81 or conceivably even 80. Furthermore, we may observe that, such is the state of our evidence, 80 is as likely a date for Murena’s triumph as is 81.4 With regard to Lucullus we know he was elected in absentia to one of the aedileships of 79.5 It therefore follows that the accepted date for his departure from Asia—80—is the correct one. He was surely elected in that year precisely because it was known he had started (or was about to start) for home. Confronted with this evidence, it seems to me that three reconstructions of events are possible: (a)

In 81 Murena, hearing news of his replacement, quitted the province before the arrival of his successor. He would then have left Asia in the charge of Lucullus as proquaestor pro praetore and the latter would have handed it over to the new governor in 80. (b) In 81 Murena handed over the province to a successor, leaving Lucullus to serve under the newcomer.

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(c)

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In 80 Murena yielded to his successor and took Lucullus home with him.

Information about governors who left a province before their successor’s arrival is scant6 but what we do know is suggestive. So far as I have been able to discover, the only circumstances under which a governor might quit his province in this way would be if he had to preside over an election or, after the change in the law in the 60s requiring personal candidature,7 if he wished to stand for election himself. A good example of the former circumstances is furnished by Albinus in 110,8 while the latter finds illustration in Murena’s own son in 639 and in P.Considius Longus in 50. 10 Aside from such occasions, all our evidence points towards awaiting one’s successor as being the norm. Thus Marshall (1972) p. 902 n. 59 points out that Dig. 1.16.10.1 requires a man to continue with his duties until his replacement arrives in the province and he suggests this was the practice of the republic. This conclusion is supported by a clause in the Lex Cornelia de maiestate—surely giving legislative force to what was previously customary—decreeing that a governor should leave his province within thirty days of his successor’s arrival. The clear implication of such an ordinance is that it was normal to await one’s successor. But this practice held potential dangers that Sulla now intended to legislate against.11 We are, indeed, fortunate in having an account of an occasion where, when a man left with good cause before his successor came, it was seen as being a trifle out of the ordinary by the author. When Caesar quitted Spain in 60 to seek the consulship Suetonius explicitly states he did so non exspectato successors. The addition of this circumstantial gloss strongly suggests he saw Caesar’s behaviour as unusual.12 Thus we see that it was usual for a governor to await his successor unless he could show good cause, which appears to be defined as the need to preside over or the wish to take part in an election. Turning now to Murena, we can see no reason why he should not have awaited his replacement. He certainly could not claim good cause under either of the two headings we have given. It might be argued that the desire to triumph (assuming he had at this point expectations of a triumph) 13 could constitute good cause but there seems to be nothing in the sources to suggest such an idea. In fact, the attested good cause is bound up with dates. That is to say, in order to preside over or participate in an election one had to be in Rome by a certain date and hence comes the concession. Triumphs, however, may be celebrated at any time and so no claim could be entered under this head. Indeed, it will be recalled that in the late republic people sometimes waited just outside Rome for a considerable period before triumphing.14 It might, of course, be argued that after his experiences there Murena would be only too anxious to leave Asia at the first possible moment but this is not necessarily so. The indications, such as they are, would seem to suggest that he regarded his defeat at the hands of Mithridates as little more than a temporary set-back that might be remedied in time. It should be borne steadily in mind that he had contrived to be hailed

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imperator and showed no inclination whatsoever to end the war until he got a direct order from Sulla to do so.15 Moreover, Cicero was to claim that Sulla had recalled Murena from a war in which he was beating the king, implying that had Murena been left where he was he would have toppled Mithridates from his throne. 16 Since Cicero knew the family it is possible the germ of this idea came from the Murenae, among whom it could have been a commonplace that this member could have won his war if Sulla had not interfered. And even if this reconstruction of Murena’s frame of mind is not acceptable there is one other point to consider. Since Murena had no good cause for a premature departure, is it likely he would risk the wrath of Sulla by departing before he should, that Sulla who, at this very moment, was bringing order into a chaotic world? Therefore, it appears tolerably clear that Murena would not leave Asia until the new governor arrived. We may then rule out possibility (a) and we can go on to consider (b) and (c) together. Now whether Murena’s successor was Thermus or Nero, both were of praetorian rank. But 81 was the year of the promulgation of leges Corneliae as a result of which it became usual for praetors to remain in Rome during their year of office and to proceed to their province in the next year. 17 In this respect it should be noted that the contemporary Cn. Cornelius Dolabella seems to have acted after such a fashion. He was praetor in 81 and then went to govern Cilicia in 80 (see below). So it follows that we would not expect the new governor to appear in Asia until 80. At this point the evidence concerning Lucullus becomes of critical importance since it supports this conclusion and shows possibility (b) to be untenable. The vital point is this: the new governor would have his own quaestor. Why then should he employ Lucullus? Unlike Sulla a few years earlier, Murena, so far as we know, had no reason for swapping quaestors;18 indeed, the task for which Lucullus had been seconded in the first place (collecting the revenues) was now complete His tour of duty as pro-quaestor had already been far longer than was normal.19 He could therefore reasonably expect to go home. So, since we know of no reason why Lucullus should want to stay20 or why Murena should want to leave him, we must reject (b) and assume that Lucullus quitted the province with his chief.21 And since we know that Lucullus’ departure fell in 80, so too must Murena’s. But who, then, succeeded Murena? In considering this question we discover that no sources give us an exact date for the praetorship of Nero or Thermus but they do furnish us with chronological data about the period of their governorships.22 Nero’s governorship coincided in whole, or in part, with that of Cn. Dolabella who served in Cilicia in the years 80–79.23 We know this because he became embroiled in the depredations of Dolabella’s legate Verres. And it is the record of those depredations that will help us to determine the exact degree of overlap between Nero and Dolabella. Cicero’s account of Verres’ marauding is long and vivid, and such is the scale of the man’s activities that it is certain they embraced both of the years 80 and 79.24 The difficulty is, of course, that it does not seem

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possible to say exactly where the enormities of 80 cease and those of 79 begin. We are fortunate, however, in being able to date one vitally important incident. Verres’ looting of the temple of Juno on Samos plainly took place on his outward voyage in 80.25 It would therefore seem reasonable to suppose that the complaint of the Samians to Nero took place soon after, since we do not know of any reason why they should delay. Thus we have here evidence for Nero’s presence in Asia fairly early in 80. The riot at Lampsacus and the subsequent court-case are less easy to date. But, to judge from Cicero’s narrative, late 80 is a possibility, although early 79 cannot be ruled out.26 I would suggest that the most natural conclusion to draw from all of this is that Nero, like Dolabella, held the praetorship in 81 and that he became governor of Asia in 80. It remains for us to demonstrate that what we know of Thermus is in harmony with this conclusion. The date of Thermus’ pro-praetorship is inextricably bound up with the fact that he captured Mytilene. And the date of that capture can be deduced only from Liv. Ep. 89. This is a narrative sequence of the events of the years 82–79 with accounts of domestic events or groups of events alternating with similar notices in the foreign sphere. The fall of Mytilene is the last event mentioned in this epitome and it is preceded by a notice of the capture of Volaterrae which occurred in 7927 and followed by the opening sentence of Ep. 90 which tells of the death of Sulla in 78. It would thus appear that the fall of Mytilene is contemporary with or posterior to the fall of Volaterrae. The use of the word quoque suggests contemporary and this gives us a date of 79.28 The possible objections to this conclusion dissolve on closer scrutiny. So far as I am aware, the date of 80 for the fall of Mytilene is based on two assumptions: Lucullus’ presence at the fall and Thermus’ presence in Asia in 80. I shall now try to show that both assumptions are false. The alleged presence of Lucullus at the capture29 rests on nothing more than making Plut. Luc. 4 say what he does not say. Nowhere in the passage does Plutarch say Lucullus captures Mytilene.30 But was Thermus in the province in 80? As we know that Julius Caesar served on his staff this might suggest he was.31 Since Caesar might be expected to want to get out of Sulla’s Rome as quickly as possible he would attach himself to the very first available governor. However, this is not necessarily so. Once he had been pardoned, Caesar had nothing to fear from Sulla. Certainly Suetonius does not say (Jul. 2) that fear was the motive for his departure and the one place where we do find this motive attributed to him does not inspire confidence. It occurs in Plutarch’s confused account (Caes. 1), where it carries about as much weight as the suggestion in Cic. 3 that Cicero travelled because of a like fear.32 In fact, as Gelzer (1968) p. 22 n. 2 points out, the company he kept is a sufficient indication of the extent of his rehabilitation. After serving under Thermus, who was a late convert to the Sullan cause, he joined Servilius Vatia, a partisan of long standing.33 Thus there is no compelling reason why we should put Caesar’s arrival in the east in 80. In fact, while his actions can be plausibly fitted into 79 we encounter grave difficulties if we try to assign them to 80. We are told Thermus

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sent him to Bithynia to collect ships.34 Two conclusions flow from this. In the first place, it is a further indication Lucullus had nothing to do with the capture of Mytilene. If he had then we might expect Thermus to have the services of his fleet and not to be compelled to raise ships from an ally. 35 Second, it means that whichever year (80 or 79) Mytilene fell it would have to happen some way into that particular year. The prosecution of the siege would depend on the gathering of the fleet and that would take some time. Now if 80 is our chosen year and we assume that the departure of Lucullus, the arrival of Thermus and the despatch of Caesar all took place around the same time early in the year then the latter’s return at some time later cannot be reconciled with something we have already observed: the presence of Nero in the province in early 80. If, however, we assume Thermus arrived early in 79 and captured that town some way into that year then, self-evidently, the problem vanishes. And this year 79 fits best for Caesar’s subsequent move. When Thermus’ campaign was done Caesar, as we noted, attached himself to Servilius who ar r ived in Cilicia in 78 to wage war there. 36 Caesar’s distinguished military record to date and the fact that he sought after another posting suggests a desire to excel. If we assume 80 as the date of the fall of Mytilene then we have to further assume that such a character hung about the province doing nothing for about 18 months. This is possible but it is, I suggest, improbable. It begins to seem even more improbable when we consider that in this very year 80 there lay ready to hand another theatre in which Caesar could have exercised his talents, namely, that very war which he is attested as joining subsequently. At this time Dolabella, the governor of Cilicia of whom we have spoken, was conducting a campaign which Servilius was to continue. 37 There would seem to be nothing to stop Caesar joining in at this point. That Dolabella was a Sullan was, as we know, neither here nor there, nor does much importance attach to the fact that Caesar was later to prosecute a man who may have been Dolabella’s cousin. 38 Future malignancy need not have been guessed at now. After all, Dolabella himself cosseted Verres in blissful ignorance of what his legate would do to him later. 39 We must, I think, assume that Caesar did not join Dolabella simply because he was not free to do so. In sum, if we believe that Caesar’s choice of his next commander was dictated by the conditions he found after the fall of Mytilene then his choice of Servilius accords better with a fall in 79 rather than in 80. It is time to recapitulate briefly the salient points of our investigation. The practices of the Roman republic strongly suggest that Murena would not have handed over his stewardship to his successor until early 80. What we know of the activities of his quaestor Lucullus confirms this. We learn from Cicero that Murena’s successor was Nero, who is attested as being in the province in 80 and also, it would seem, 79. In fact, it is virtually certain he was there in the latter year since he too would have to wait for his replacement. In this picture there is no place for Thermus between Murena and Nero. In fact, his natural place is after

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Nero for he stormed Mytilene in 79, and it may be added this date accords best with what we know of his contubernalis Caesar. I would, therefore, propose that the sequence of events in Asia 81–79 and their dating should read as follows: 81: Murena is ordered to desist from war. 80: C.Claudius Nero arrives as governor. Accompanied by Lucullus, Murena goes home to celebrate his triumph. 79: M.Minucius Thermus arrives as governor. Sometime in the course of this year he captures Mytilene.

Appendix 2

When did the Third Mithridatic War begin?

About the sequence of events that mark the opening of the war there is no dispute. Nicomedes IV of Bithynia willed his kingdom to the Romans and upon his death they turned it into a province. Mithridates, who had an alliance with Sertorius, interpreted this as a declaration of war and invaded the place. He defeated M.Aurelius Cotta there and shut him up in Chalcedon. Upon the arrival of Lucullus he made for Cyzicus and laid siege to it. Eventually, however, lack of supplies forced him to withdraw.1 There is, however, disagreement as to when these hostilities commenced. Was it in 74 or 73? In recent years authority that once favoured the former date (MRR 2.101,108) has shifted position and now believes the latter to be correct (MRR 3.121–2). Sherwin-White (1984) p. 162 calls it ‘a tiresome chronological problem’, but as a scholar of an older generation reminds us, ‘when the records of a war leave room for doubt even as to the year in which this or that campaign occurred one cannot expect satisfactory information about strategy or tactics’.2 So a fresh look at the sources may not be untimely. At the outset it should be pointed out that we shall also have to examine the evidence for the death of Sertorius since one source says it occurred during the siege of Cyzicus (App. Mith. 72), thus establishing an obvious connection between two sets of chronology. (i) CICERO The contemporary Cicero is represented by Pro Mur. 33, Pro Cluentio 90, 103, 108, 136–7, Acad. 2.1–3. 3 In the Pro Murena 33 Cicero says ad quod bellum duobus consulibus missis. It has been claimed that proconsul might be meant here but this seems unlikely.4 Cicero’s theme (cf. Mur. 32) is the magnitude of the war against Mithridates, and the despatch of two consuls to fight it is wholly in keeping with that theme. We may further observe that the passage could be pressed to mean that the war was already in progress when the two set out in 74. From Pro Cluentio 136–7 we learn that a decree of the senate instructed Lucullus, then consul for 74, or the consuls of the next year

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(already elected) to investigate the allegations of bribery made against Junius’ tribunal. This, of course, must mean, as many have recognized, that Lucullus was still in Rome in July/August.5 Sherwin-White goes further. Pointing out that there is clear evidence (Pro Cluentio 90, 108) that the condemnation of Junius took place towards the end of the tribunician year (late November?) he then claims that the senatus consultum (s.c.) we are speaking of followed on this condemnation. This is a false inference for there is nothing in our source which would permit us to make such a dating. The agitation over this matter was severe and of some length, and it encompassed two prosecutions of Falcula (Pro Cluentio 103). Given that the s.c. was a direct response to this agitation (Pro Cluentio 136), there is no reason why it should not have been passed long before Junius’ trial. Indeed, one circumstance strongly suggests that it was. Cicero (Pro Cluentio 137) says that the agitation of Quinctius led the people to demand this rogatio. Then the plebs saw the tears of Junius’ son which, I presume, refers to a theatrical display at his father’s trial.6 The result was that their mood changed and quaestionem illam et legem repudiavit. In other words, the agitation died away at precisely the time Sherwin-White thinks it resulted in the s.c.7 One other point seems to have been overlooked in this passage. It should be carefully noted that while the s.c. is directed at both of the consuls designate of 73 it is aimed at only one of those of 74, namely Lucullus. The clear inference, I would argue, is that Cotta was absent and the most likely place for him to be was in the east. Acad. 2.1–3 need not detain us long. This, we saw earlier, was tendentious in tone but accurate with regard to its facts.8 At first sight it would seem to indicate that Lucullus had completed both praetorship and consulship before departing for Africa and Asia respectively. This would appear to contradict what was said in Pro Mur. 33 (see above) but, as Holmes (1923) p. 402, observes, ‘that in referring to a fact which all his readers knew, he contradicted in the Academica what he had said in Pro Murena is simply incredible’. Granted that, then McGing’s suggestion is completely plausible.9 He believes that Cicero is here marking out the various stages of Lucullus’ career, using a different adverb for each new stage. And the stages are magistracies and provinciae. Pro-magistracies per se are not counted. We hear of a praetorship and Africa but not of a pro-praetorship. Particularly striking is the case of the pro-quaestorship where Lucullus is always referred to as quaestor.10 In other words, here magistracy and pro-magistracy are as one. Conclusion: Cicero tells us that both consuls in 74 went off to a war which may have already started. Lucullus did not leave until some time after July/August but he was preceded by Cotta.11

(ii) SALLUST Next we must look at the following passages from Cicero’s younger contemporary, Sallust: Ep. Mith. 9, Hist. 2.71M, Orat. Mac. 18, 21–3. It is generally agreed that Nicomedes’ will was genuine and that he died in 74.12 However, his queen Nysa had a son and Sallust (Ep. Mith. 9)

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represents Mithridates as complaining that the Romans seized Bithynia despite his existence, implying thereby that he had some kind of claim on the throne. Hist. 2.71M tells us that the pretender sent envoys to Rome to gain recognition but they were followed by a multitude who claimed he was illeg itimate. 13 On the basis of this scanty evidence the reconstruction of events which is usually offered is as follows.14 After the death of Nicomedes in 74 this man’s delegation made its way to Rome and were followed there by its opponents. The senate had to decide between the two and, as we know, they elected to accept the will. Instructions were then given to the governor of Asia to turn Bithynia into a province.15 Now, so the argument runs, for all of this to be done in 74 before an invasion by Mithridates in the same year is nigh-on impossible. One has to agree but one may then go on to point out that matters do not necessarily have to have fallen out in this wise. The plain fact is our source does not tell us exactly when the suppositious son made his bid for recognition. The notice of the embassy is a mere fragment that furnishes no clue as to its dating.16 All that we can really say for certain is that it preceded the formal acceptance of the king’s will by Rome. We are, therefore, at liberty to assign it a dating different from the usual if we can find a plausible context for it. Having begun on a negative note, we shall maintain it. We are ignorant of when the contents of Nicomedes’ will became known. Did people have an inkling of them before he died or did the formal publication shock and surprise the world? We know of a number of occasions on which eastern kings bequeathed their kingdoms to Rome and at least one of these wills was actually published prior to the king’s death.17 There is, therefore, no real reason why Nicomedes should not make known, officially or unofficially, who his heir should be and one very good reason why he should: Mithridates. Since Nicomedes had no natural heirs it is reasonable to suppose that in bequeathing his kingdom to the Romans he was doing as other kings had done and attempting to preserve its integrity by placing it in masterful hands who would protect it from external threat. That threat, of course, was Mithridates who had already twice before invaded the place. The advantages of an early declaration are thus obvious. The Pontic king would receive clear warning that there would be no vacuum into which he might step. One of two consequences would thus follow. Realizing that he would have to face the Romans yet again, Mithridates might shrink from such a hazardous enterprise. Or, as indeed happened, he might be provoked into making preparations for war, alert the Romans as to what was afoot and thus they would move swiftly into Bithynia to be ready and waiting for him when he arrived.18 If we are right thus far then we are entitled to ask when the pretender to the throne was most likely to make his bid for recognition.19 We cannot be sure but it seems to me the very instant the king’s wishes became known. There was nothing to be gained by waiting until the king died. If he were to await the official proclamation after death, then it might very well be asked by his contemporaries why he did so. Why was it only now he discovered his legitimacy? To wait this long might, one suspects, lead to a fate like that of Aristonicus.20 Therefore it is at least

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arguable that the pretender could have made his bid in, say, 75 or so, when it is very likely the ailing king’s wishes became known. So the evidence of the Sallust passage can be made to yield a different story from that usually presented. And there remains a third possibility. When we place the embassies of Hist. 2.71M at Rome we do not have textual support for the location and are merely following a plausibleseeming guess of Maurenbrecher. The use of the word multi, though, arouses certain suspicions. Is it really the term to use of an embassy? If not, do we then have to envisage hordes of Bithynians descending on Rome? I do not think so. But it is not, on the other hand, difficult to imagine a suppliant pretender coming to the governor of Asia thus to put his case and having him being pursued there by his opponents in large numbers. Granted that this is so, we may have a reference here to the very eve of annexation—a last desperate attempt to avert the consequences of a decision already taken. The passages of the Orat. Mac. (18, 21–3) are more clear-cut. The dramatic date is 73 and from 18 we deduce that Sertorius was then still alive. The expectation of Pompey’s return (21–3) probably is the result of good news from Spain. Conclusion:21 The information Sallust gives us about the pretender to the Bithynian throne can be plausibly fitted into our sequence of events at any one of three different points. For the rest he tells us that at some time in 73 Sertorius was still alive.

(iii) COINAGE The last piece of contemporary evidence that we have is the Bithynian royal coinage. Numismatists tell us that a royal coin numbered with the era-year 224 must belong after October 74 and so Nicomedes’ death has to be put after that date. However, two objections have been made to this argument. The coin might have been minted by the pretender. Then again it has been pointed out that in the First Mithridatic War there was no interruption in the Bithynian coinage, even though the king was absent. Cities loyal to Nicomedes and free of Mithridates’ control continued to mint and a similar situation could have prevailed now.22 Conclusion: The royal coinage is of no use for our purposes.

(iv) LIVY We must look now at the Livian tradition: Eutrop. 6.1–7; Oros. 5.23–4, 6.2.13–31; Liv. Ep. 90–5. Eutropius 6.1–7 is a narrative of four wars, Spanish, Pamphylian and Cilician, Macedonian and Dalmatian, which he says all began in the consulship of Lepidus and Catulus—i.e. 78—and which culminated with triumphs for all four areas.23 He is unaware that the wars in Spain, Cilicia and Macedonia had already been in progress for some time, or rather it may very well be that it is only now that he thinks of them as being significant.24 Certainly, with the exception of Metellus Pius and

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Domitius Calvinus, the commanders first named for these wars appear to have left for the front in 78. From our point of view, however, the most important thing at the moment is that we allow Eutropius consistency in his viewpoint. Thus if he puts the start of the Sertorian war in 78, then when he says Sertorius was slain and the war ended octavo demum anno he ought by inclusive reckoning to mean 71.25 The death of Nicomedes is placed in the consulship of Lucullus and Cotta (74). Both consuls are sent to deal with Mithridates and it is as a consul that Lucullus opposes the Pontic invasion. A summer and a winter are taken up with the siege of Cyzicus (6.6). In these passages, as elsewhere, Eutropius sometimes equates his consular dates with AUC dates. Also on occasions we find him giving the AUC date without linking it to a consular date. To one of these latter some attach considerable importance. Ward (1977b) p. 83 n. 1 reports that certain scholars equate the AUC date in 6.7.1 with 74 and thus deduce the starting-date of Spartacus’ revolt. However, it is doubtful if we can actually put any faith at all in these dates. It was possible for Eutropius to use one of three systems for these calculations: the Varronian with its 753 epoch (foundation date Olym. 6,3), epoch 752 (Olym. 6,4) or epoch 751 (Olym. 7,2).26 He himself tells us, however, that the city was founded Olympiadis sextae anno tertio (1.1.2). Approaching this in something like a state of innocence one might assume that Eutropius was following the Varronian system. Table 1 may give pause. The list of Eutropius’ AUC dates given there is, of course, by no means exhaustive but I think it is fair to say that it is representative. That he made the correct equation of 681 with its corresponding consular year in an AUC system dating from epoch 751 is surely as much due to luck as anything else. In sum, Table 1 and the other samples of Eutropius’ handling of AUC dates available to us show quite clearly that no faith whatsoever can be put in them as a system for establishing chronology.27 Table 1 A comparison of dates

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From a comparison of Eutrop. 6.1–5 and Oros. 5.23–4 it is clear that both are using the same source for the four wars in Spain, Cilicia, Macedonia and Dalmatia. The difference that immediately strikes the reader is that Orosius is more detailed and more rhetorical.29 But there are other details that, from our point of view, are more important. Unlike Eutropius, Orosius knows something of Sertorius’ adventures before what we may call ‘the year of the four wars’. However, it is plain from his narrative (23.1–2) that he does not date the beginning of the Sertorian war proper from the time of those adventures but, like Eutropius, calls it a Spanish war and puts that beginning in ‘the year of the four wars’. However, unlike Eutropius, he uses an AUC date and not a consular one to indicate that particular year. And here again there are problems. Orosius says that the city was founded in the sixth Olympiad but does not specify in which year.30 Thus we do not know what epoch he is using and practice actually varies. Let us take, as an example, three famous events. The AUC date of 710 for Caesar’s murder in 44 is obviously reckoned on the 753 epoch. But the AUC dates that are given respectively for Cicero’s consulship (63) and Caesar’s first consulship (59) as 689 and 693 can only be right if the epoch is 751.31 Thus when Orosius puts ‘the year of the four wars’ in 673 AUC we have no means of knowing which of our BC dates 81, 80 or 79 he is talking about.32 This in turn means that we cannot be sure when Orosius would place Sertorius’ death. Like Eutropius he says the war per se ended with the leader’s death. However, he goes on to add that mopping-up operations continued after this event and he locates the death itself in decent demum anno belli. But in the tenth year from which date? With regard to the Third Mithridatic War, 6.2.13–24 narrates the events from the start to Mithridates’ flight back to Pontus without any indication of chronology. Are we speaking of 74/3 or 73/2? The very next passage, 3.1, settles the matter. Eodem anno (i.e. 73 or 72) Catiline was acquitted of incest with a Vestal. Cicero, speaking in 63, says that it is now ten years since the acquittal of the Vestals (Cat. 3.9).33 The obvious inference to make is that he is talking of the same event as Orosius and thus of the two possible sets of dates 74/3 is the correct one. However, McGing (1984) p. 14 n. 5 describes this as ‘a highly speculative argument’ and says we have no means of knowing if Catiline’s illegal partner Fabia was among the acquitted Cicero has in mind. This objection does not have much force. If Cicero speaks of acquittals ten years before 63 and another source mentions a trial in the period 74–72 then I think we must assume the latter forms part of the series of trials Cicero had in mind. It is very difficult to envisage a second set of trials of Vestals in the same period. The issue of whether Fabia was acquitted or not then becomes irrelevant. Both authors are speaking of trials in 73. Orosius recalls one trial, without specifically saying whether Fabia was found guilty or not. Cicero, on the other hand, talks only of acquittals, without saying whether anybody was found guilty. In fact, to judge from Cicero’s language, all the defendants were acquitted and moreover I would suggest that Fabia was among those who got off. If the case against Catiline was dismissed then, since the

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charge was incest. it seems logical to suppose that the case against his co-defendant on this same charge would automatically collapse. 34 So, the chronological information derived from the combined evidence of Cicero and Orosius must be allowed to stand. We turn now to the Livian Epitome 90–5. 35 In a reading of this source two things must be borne steadily in mind. The events within a given geographical area that fall within a given period of time are nar rated together. The epitomator then moves on to the roughly contemporaneous events in another geographical area. Within each epitome itself the method of dating is usually by reference to the titles of the magistrates.36 The epitome gives the following sequence: 90 Italy: Death of Sulla. Revolt of Lepidus (78–77). Spain: Revolt of Sertorius. L.Manlius pro cos, and M.Domitius legatus defeated by quaestor Hirtuleius (79–78).37 Cilicia: The activities of P.Servilius pro cos. (78). 38 91 Spain: Despatch of Pompey. Victories of Sertorius (77). Appius Claudius conquers Thracians (77–76). Q.Metellus pro cos. defeats and kills Hirtuleius (76).39 92 Spain: Pompey fights dubio eventu with Sertorius. Metellus defeats Sertorius and Perperna. Later Sertorius is blocked in Clunia (76).40 Thrace: Campaigns of pro cos. Curio (75).41 Spain: Cruelty of Sertorius (75).42 93 Cilicia: Victories of P.Servilius (74).43 Asia: Death of Nicomedes. Mithr idates having made a pact with Sertorius invades Bithynia. Defeats cos. M.Aurelius Cotta (74).44 Spain: Victories of Pompey and Metellus over Sertorius. He dr ives them from Calgur r is. They winter in Fur ther Spain and Gaul respectively (74).45 94 Asia: Campaigns of the consul Lucullus. He quells a mutiny. Deiotarus’ victory over Mithridates (74–73).46 Spain: Victorious campaign of Pompey against Sertorius (73).47 95 Thrace: Victories of Curio (73).48 Italy: Spartacus rebels. Legatus Claudius Pulcher and praetor P.Varenus defeated by Spartacus (73).49 Asia: Pro cos. L.Lucullus defeats Mithridates at Cyzicus and drives him back to Pontus (73).50

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96 Italy: Q.Arrius praetor defeats Crixus. Cn. Lentulus cos. fights badly against .Spartacus. L.Gellius cos. and Arrius defeated by Spartacus (72).51 Spain: Murder of Sertorius octavo ducatus sui anno. Pompey’s defeat of Perperna and subjugation of Spain decimo fere anno after the war began (72–71). 52 Italy: Campaigns of Cassius and Manlius against Spartacus go badly. War given to Crassus (72–71).53 As is well known, the titles the epitomator assigns Lucullus and Cotta in Ep. 93 and 95 enable us to see that for him the Mithridatic war began in 74.54 Corroborating evidence is provided by the positioning of these notices. The second notice (Curio) in Ep. 92 can definitely be dated to 75. The next (Sertorius), if it is not 75 as I have suggested, can be no later than 74. Thus we may say that Ep. 92 either finishes the sequence of 75 or opens that of 74. No matter which view we take, Servilius’ victory in 74 naturally belongs at the opening of Ep. 93 and with it the obviously parallel events in Asia. In Ep. 95 we have two campaigns definitely dated to 73. It is not straining credulity to believe, given the methods of the epitomator, that the third one, that of Lucullus, parallels them. We turn now to the epitomator’s data concerning Sertorius. He was murdered octavo ducatus sui anno. This agrees very well with the evidence of Ep. 90 where all the indications are that the epitomator believed the Sertorian war started in 79 for, like Eutropius, he has nothing to say about the earlier activities of the rebel. Thus, by inclusive reckoning, we date the murder to 72. Moreover, the position of the notice supports this conclusion. The last notice of 73 is at the end of Ep. 95 and in Ep. 96 the notice of the death is clearly flanked by events of 72–71. As we saw, Eutropius too speaks of a death in the eighth year but for him this would be 71 because he appears to date the War from 78—a date which, I think, all would agree is impossible. We may recall however, a further point. Although Eutropius starts the war in 78, he names as participants Metellus Pius and Domitius Calvinus who were active before that date. Indeed, the latter was dead by then! There is, I think, a strong suspicion that Eutropius has not got things right. He has put the start of the war a year too late and, in writing of Metellus and Domitius, has failed to notice this. Thus when he speaks of the eighth year he places it too a year later than it should be. We need not castigate Eutropius, however, for ending the Sertorian War with the leader’s death. Orosius does the same, as we saw, but then goes on to speak of mopping up operations. The epitomator, as we know, speaks of Sertorius’ death in the eighth year of his command but also says the war itself ended in the tenth year. What we have reflected here is surely a difference of perspective noted in the source and slightly garbled by the tradition.55 For some people the Sertorian war could be regarded as having, in its essence, finished with the man’s death, a view transmitted by Eutropius and Orosius. There were mopping-up operations, of course, which Eutropius ignores and Orosius mentions apologetically. In either case they were not to be regarded as

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part of the war proper. The epitomator probably reflects a different viewpoint. The ducatus56 of Sertorius ended in the eighth year but warfare continued to the tenth.57 This last piece of data, it may be noted, sits well with Pompey’s triumph in 70.58 And we can now see why Orosius talks of the death of Sertorius in the tenth year of the war. He has blended two separate concepts: a war that finished in the eighth year with Sertorius’ death, leaving mopping-up to be done and a war that finished in the tenth year when that mopping-up was completed.59 Conclusion: The Livian tradition firmly sets the start of the Third Mithridatic War in 74. It is listed under this consular year by Eutropius and Lucullus and Cotta are termed ‘consuls’ in the description of their early exploits there. In first noticing them the epitomator likewise so designates them. Further, independent of such titles, the opening narrative of the war is, to judge from the epitomator’s sequence, located in that portion of the epitome which deals with 74. As regards Orosius, his main value becomes apparent when he is considered along with a passage of Cicero and so gives us also 74 as the opening date of the war. With regard to the death of Sertorius, only the epitome gives us a coherent and helpful account. Once more, the sequence of events and arrangement of notices is important. Moreover, we can fix the date the writer sets for the beginning of the war and thus deduce what year was eighth from that, for it was then he says Sertorius died. Both this latter calculation and the position of the death notice lead us to 72. Here Orosius and Eutropius are only of negative value. That is to say, once we recognize their deviations from the epitome for the errors they are, we can claim that the account they drew on was the same as the epitomator’s.

(v) APPIAN Here we shall mostly be concerned with BC1.108–15 and Mith. 68–72.60 There is a reasonable case to be made for the view that Appian drew a good deal of his information about the first Civil and the Sertorian War from Livy. 61 Nevertheless, he must be treated separately because of the clear non-Livian elements in his narrative and his own peculiar methods of composition. Chief among the latter are his ways of indicating chronology. These are many and varied, but we shall confine ourselves to those that are of immediate concern here.62 There are two that we must look at, at once. First, we should recognize that Appian often indicates a particular year by reference to one or more of the seasons, spring, summer or winter.63 Moreover, on occasions he will offer us a sequence of years in annalistic fashion.64 Both of these chronological indicators are exemplified in BC1.108–15. In 108 we learn that Pompey after Lepidus is crushed is being sent to Spain, which obviously means we are in 77. Then follows an account of his campaign until a winter intervenes (109). In the spring of the next year—which should, one supposes, be 76—hostilities resume and carry on through the summer till another winter (110). The next year should then

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be 75, but one thing would seem to indicate to the modern reader that 74 is actually in question. We hear of reinforcements for the government armies (111).65 Then follows another year (113) and yet another (113–15) which saw the death of Sertorius. Obviously something has gone wrong here. In the text, as it stands, there is a year missing. There are, I believe, two possible solutions. We may, with Gabba (1967) p. 299, put the end of the narrative of 77 at the conclusion of BC1.108 and then have the events of 76 start in BC1.109. This would then give us a narrative running from 77 to 72. On the other hand taking the text as it stands it could be argued that Appian has simply coalesced 77 and 76. This would then give us a narrative running from 77 to 73.66 Plainly a great deal hinges on what year Appian thought he was talking about in BC1.111. It should not be too readily assumed that the details of troop reinforcements would have for him the significance it has for us since he nowhere says anything about the role of the consuls. This initial impression is confirmed when we read that this was the year Rome received the bequest of Nicomedes (Bithynia) and Cyrene (Ptolemy Apion). Now, if the former definitely fell in 74, there is good reason to believe the latter may be dated to 75.67 Appian then goes on to use a system of dating found from time to time in his work: dating by Olympiads. This particular year fell, he says, in the 176th Olympiad.68 Normally it is assumed Appian is switching from dating by ‘seasonal years’ at this point to dating by Olympiads.69 I am rather sceptical of this view. This year, as we know, is part of a set and it is difficult to see why Appian should wish to break it in the middle. Moreover, it seems to me that the most natural way to read the text is as an attempt at equivalence not conversion. Come to that, if Appian is converting why does he not say which Olympic year is in question and have done with it? Mere carelessness, the charge so often levelled at Appian, will not do here for he is being consistent with his own practices. Nowhere in his use of this system does he specify the exact Olympic year,70 although he is perfectly capable of making an exact equivalence between other systems of chronology.71 At the very least it looks as if Appian was well aware of the difficulty of equating exactly ‘seasonal years’ running from spring to winter with the Olympic years, which ran from summer to summer.72 But that is not all. As we know, Appian in BC 1.111 must be talking of 75 or 74 depending on how we read his text.73 As background to this year he mentions that the following wars were in progress: Sertorian, Mithridatic, pirate, Cretan and Spartacan. All were indeed in progress at sometime in the 176th Olympiad, but only the Sertorian was certainly taking place in 75. The pirate war and the Mithridatic (possibly, on one view) began in 74. The other two started in 72 and 73 respectively.74 What is the meaning of this? Why say wars were taking place in 75 or 74 when they were not? The answer, I believe, can be found after we have looked at some other passages which shed further light on our author’s use of Olympiad chronology. Appian tells us the first Civil War ended with the death of the consul Carbo (BC 1.96, 98), an event which is to be dated to 81.75 This gave

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Sulla the opportunity he wanted and he had himself made dictator in the 175th Olympiad when the Olympic Games were spoiled because all the athletes went to Rome (BC 1.97–9).76 That this latter act actually happened in 81 is made clear by the fact that Appian says correctly (BC 1.100) that M.Tullius Decula and Cn. Cornelius Dolabella were elected as consuls for that year.77 Consular dating is quite common in Appian78 and so we find that the next year is designated by the consulship of Sulla and Metellus Pius which makes it 80. The following year is 79, as we deduce from the consuls Servilius Vatia and Appius Claudius Pulcher (BC 1.103).79 Save for the fact that we can securely deduce the dates of the years this is very like the narrative sequence of BC 1.108–15). It is precisely when we come to the Olympiad reference that we encounter difficulties. First of all, Appian, as usual, does not specify what year of the Olympiad he has in mind. Moreover, his two systems of chronology actually contradict each other! The consular yields 81 for the assumption of the dictatorship, the Olympiad the summer of 80 at the earliest. 80 Another example of the doubtful validity of Appian’s use of Olympiad reckoning is found in Iber. 42. To say that the campaigns of Fulvius (182–180) in Spain happened around the 150th Olympiad is just about acceptable, one supposes, but it is unfortunate that he is described as a consul.81 Even less impressive is the statement82 that the triumphs of Scipio over Carthage (146), Mummius over Corinth (145), Metellus over Andr iscus (146) 83 took place about the 160th Olympiad (summer 140summer 136). In fairness to Appian it should be said that he often indicates the approximate nature of his Olympic dates (cf. refs in n. 70) but nevertheless the fact remains that his level of achievement in this area is low. Recognizing that, we can now see easily enough what has gone wrong in BC 1.111. It has been assumed by our author that the wars recorded for the 176th Olympiad were taking place in every year of that Olympiad. Hence the assignment to 75 (or 74) of wars which had not yet begun then. Earlier I suggested that Appian’s failure to specify the particular year of an Olympiad he had in mind might have been due to his recognizing the difficulty of establishing equivalences. But there could be another explanation. Whatever he was drawing from84 may not have divided the Olympiad into years at all but simply listed the events of a particular four-year period. Self-evidently this would furnish a plausible alternative explanation for the puzzling absence of specific Olympiad years. It would also explain why Appian puts together in one year what appear to be events of 75 and 74 respectively and why he assumes the wars of the period were taking place in every year of the Olympiad. 85 Thus I conclude that Appian’s nar rative sequence offer s no information about the date of Sertorius’ death since it is impossible to establish whether it runs from 77 to 73 or 72. One other piece of evidence however remains to be explored. As with some of the Livians (see (iv), above) Appian believed the war proper ended with the death of Sertorius but that some moppingup remained which did not take long (BC 1.115). He also tells us that

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the war was of eight years’ duration (BC 1.108). Here we encounter a familiar problem. Over what time-period did these eight years stretch? First of all, it should be noted that Appian is very well informed about Ser tor ius’ activities before 79, the earliest date assigned to the beginning of the war in the Livian tradition, and, indeed, he takes the story all the way back to Cinna’s attack on Rome in 86. 86 What particularly concerns us here, however, is the temporal relationship Appian drew between the first Civil and the Sertorian War. We are told the Civil War lasted for three years and, by inclusive reckoning, a method favoured by Appian, this is correct if we are prepared to accept his very reasonable assumption that the war ended in 81.87 He makes it perfectly plain that for him the war in Italy ended with the capture of Norba and abroad with the execution of Carbo—both events to be assigned to 81.88 Now, the Sertorian War is twice mentioned as something left over from the Civil War, a piece of unfinished business. In the first of these passages we would seem to be at the start of Sulla’s dictatorship in 81. Norba has fallen, Italy is being chastised and Carbo has just been rubbed out (95–97). Therefore when the Sertorian War is mentioned we could argue that it begins now in 81. On inclusive reckoning eight years from this point would yield 74 as the year of Sertorius’ death. But it may be recalled that Appian may have coalesced two years into one.89 Then we would have 73 as our terminus. However, this is not all. In this very passage the despatch of Metellus is mentioned, which we know may have fallen in 80 but is most likely to be dated to 79. Reckoning from this datum with a full complement of years, we have 72 as the year of Sertorius’ death eight years after 79. If we lose one year here then we arrive at 71.90 Plainly it is impossible to decide what year Appian had in mind as the starting-point for his eight years. Now that we have exhausted all avenues of investigation we have to admit that it is not possible to extract from Appian a date for Sertorius’ death and possibly this may be due to the author himself. But whatever the reasons the implications for Mith. 72 are obvious. A notice there of the death of Sertorius cannot be used to date the siege of Cyzicus because we simply do not know when Appian thought Sertorius died. I would like to go a step further and present the case for believing that Appian here too has been stalked by his evil genius, the Olympiad dating, and in particular by the 176th. Now, no matter what date we adopt for the start of the Third Mithridatic War, be it 74 or 73, it clearly began in that Olympiad and Appian gives indications of knowing this. In a speech that he puts into the mouth of Mithridates in Paphlagonia just before the invasion of Bithynia he has the king point to the advantage to be derived from the present state of the Romans. They are engaged in conflict with Sertorius in Spain, Spartacus in Italy91 and the pirates everywhere (Mith. 70). Furthermore, when the invasion begins (Mith. 71) the death of Nicomedes is, as Sherwin-White (1984) p. 160 n. 5 pointed out, mentioned almost incidentally. I would suggest the reason is that it is being used as a chronological indicator not as a causal factor.

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What we would seem to have here then is a list of background details to the start of the Third Mithridatic War. The resemblance to the other list in BC 1.111 is striking, leading to the conclusion that in both instances the procedure is the same. An incident from the 176th Olympiad is set against the background of other incidents from that Olympiad and is roughly dated by reference to them. And if this practice is followed twice, there is no reason why it should not be followed thrice. Confronted with the need to explain the treachery of Magius, Appian noted that the death of Sertor ius occurred in the same Olympiad. So he yoked the two together, even though we have reason to suppose he could not really tell which Olympiad year either event fell in. Finally, it should be noted that there are no other real clues in Appian’s text as to when he thought the Third Mithridatic War began. His statement that Lucullus was chosen to fight the war as consul and pro-consul is unexceptionable and although he does employ ‘seasonal years’ we have no means of knowing in this instance what they were.92 Conclusion: The only clue to the date of the start of the Third Mithridatic War in the Mithridatica is a reference to the death of Sertorius during the siege of Cyzicus. However, at the very least it would appear that it is difficult to extract a date for Sertorius’ death from the Bella Civilia. Hence we have no means of controlling the reference in the Mithridatica. Indeed, there is reason to believe that both texts are useless as a source for dating because of a severe chronological muddle which vitiates them both.

(vi) DIODORUS Some have found support for the view that the war began in 73 in Diod. Sic. 37.22a-b. 93 This places the death of Sertorius before an incident in the siege of Cyzicus and thus the famous deduction from Appian is offered backing.94 Now, in Walton’s edition 22a is preceded (38/39.22) by what looks like a mention of unrest in Sertorius’ army and this in turn comes after a mention of Spartacus (38/39.21). The problem is we have no anchor- or base-date and no dates for the individual passages. In other words, we do not know what date Diodorus gave to the first passage in the sequence or to any of the others. Let us assume Diodorus dated the start of Spartacus’ rebellion to 73, like most others do. Are we then to take it that 38/39.22– 37.22a and 37.22b also refer to 73? We might, but equally plausibly we might assign both the latter to 72, since that date for both incidents has found adherents. 95 Again, what is to stop us putting 38/39.22– 37.22a in 73 and consigning 37.22b to 72? And this is not the end of the matter. Perhaps Diodor us belonged to the school that put Spartacus’ rebellion in 74? 96 Then all that follows that notice might belong there or it might conceivably belong in 73 or perhaps 72. Or it might even be divided between the two. Conclusion: Diodorus may be eliminated from our enquiries.

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(vii) VELLEIUS PATERCULUS We have but one passage of Velleius Paterculus to consider directly:97 2.33.1. This tells us that seven years before the Lex Manilla, passed when the pirate war was in fine, Lucullus ex consulate sortitus Asiam. When Velleius speaks of a man obtaining a province ex consulatu or ex praetura it would appear he means a province conferred during the magistracy and held in the year immediately afterwards.98 In this instance he clearly means that Lucullus entered on his province in 73 after the consulship of 74. This date is, of course, in complete harmony with the reference to the seven years that were to elapse before the passing of the Lex Manilla in 66. This might look like firm evidence in favour of 73 as the date of the war’s start. But certain considerations must give us pause. First of all, Lucullus did not obtain Asia by sortition but by vote of the senate after he had given up his province of Cisalpine Gaul. Velleius is also unaware that Lucullus held Cilicia too. We must further recognize that when Velleius portrays a man as remaining in Rome until his magistracy is up he is writing in a mechanistic or formulaic fashion. He assumes that what was the norm in his day was the norm earlier. But we know that in the post-Sullan republic many consuls left for their provinces before their year of office expired and in the present instance we have considered above in section (i) on Cicero contemporary evidence that contradicts Velleius by numbering Lucullus among those men.99 Conclusion: Velleius is writing loosely and cannot be taken to tell us anything more than the fact that Lucullus was in Asia in 73.

(viii) JULIUS CAESAR The movements of the young Julius Caesar are bound up with the opening of the Third Mithridatic War and hence are of interest to us.100 His adventures may be reconstructed as follows. He set sail for Rhodes in the winter months but was captured at Pharmacusa by pirates. He was as yet a juvenis. 101 Ransom, raised by the cities of Asia, was paid for his release. Once free, Caesar got a scratch fleet together from those cities, pursued the pirates and captured them. Lodging them in custody, he went to Bithynia where the governor of Asia M.Junius Juncus102 now was. When Juncus would not give him permission to have his captives crucified he returned swiftly to the coast and went ahead anyway and did it.103 He continued on to his original objective, Rhodes, but then learned that Mithridates’ men had invaded Asia. Crossing over to the mainland, he raised another scratch force and drove them back.104 He then went home in order to assume the priesthood to which he had been elected in absentia after the death of C.Aurelius Cotta (cos. 75).105 Now there is no dispute about the role of Juncus. When the Romans learned of Nicomedes’ request he was governor of Asia and, as such, was instructed to take possession of Bithynia and turn it into a province. 106 It would therefore be useful to know what winter Caesar travelled in so as to encounter him about his work in Bithynia.

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Within broad limits Caesar’s assumption of the priesthood provides a terminus post quem for his travels. Cotta went to Cisalpine Gaul early in 74. He was granted a triumph but we do not know when. All we know is that he died the day before he was due to celebrate it. His successor in Cisalpine Gaul was the consul of 73 C.Cassius Longinus. We do not know when he arrived to take up his duties but he was certainly active there in 72. Thus it is perfectly possible that Cotta did not die until some time well into 73. 107 Such a dating would, of course, seem to square well with putting Caesar’s capture in the winter of 74/73. Unfortunately, one detail tells against it. The governor of Bithynia Caesar had dealings with was definitely Juncus, whereas by the winter of 74/73 the gover nor was now Aurelius Cotta (cos. 74) who, it will be remembered, had left Rome in good time to get there by then. In other words, since Nicomedes died in 74 and Cotta was there by the year’s end, the only time Juncus could be in Bithynia to meet Caesar would be at the start of 74. Conclusion: What we know of Julius Caesar’s activities at this time suits a 74 date for the war rather than 73.

(ix) PHLEGON Phlegon 12.3 (Jacoby 2B p. 1163) says that in Olympiad 177.1 (summer 72–71) 108 Lucullus was besieging Amisus. Leaving charge of this to Murena, he went to Cabira and wintered there. He ordered ‘Adrian’ (i.e. Fabius Hadrianus—MRR 2.119) to attack Mithridates and he defeated him. The chief inference from this passage runs as follows: Lucullus’ troops had already spent two winters in sieges, at Cyzicus and Amisus respectively. Hence, this is the third winter under canvas and as it is 72/ 71 the beginning of the war must be placed in 74.109 The arguments advanced against this inter pretation are not particularly strong. Emendation, a course proposed by Reinach (1895) p. 334 n. 1 and approved of by McGing (1984) p. 13 is surely an unacceptable mode of procedure since it is ever open to the charge of altering the text in order to make it fit a preconceived notion or opinion. Neither is there much force in the argument—McGing (1984) p. 13—that in Plut. Luc. 33 the soldiers only complain of successive winters in camp at Cyzicus and Amisus and not of one at Cabira. The very next sentence says they were vexed at every other winter as well because they were spent in enemy country or under the open sky among the allies. Personally, I do not think it would be difficult to find a place for a siege of Cabira among such winters.110 Difficulties too have been encountered in the differing seasons assigned to Lucullus’ setting-out in our various authors.111 Phlegon must be talking of summer, Appian (Mith. 79) says ‘spring’, while Plut. Luc. 15 has him leave ‘after winter’. Yet these differences are more imaginary than real. We must surely allow both Phlegon and Appian the right to describe matters after their respective systems of chronology. In using his

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‘sea-sonal years’ Appian is telling us that Lucullus moved once fine weather came. This may have been before summer and thus Phlegon would have difficulty accommodating it to his Olympiad system. As the bulk of the action took place in year 1 it would probably make sense to do what he appears to have done: sacrifice strict truth to elegance and put back Lucullus’ move a little to accommodate to his system. Moreover, since Appian’s seasons are inexact and elastic things and as the first year of an Olympiad did not necessarily always begin on the same day in each Olympiad it is easy to see that Phlegon and Appian may have been separated from each other by no more than a few weeks.112 And neither could be said to contradict Plutarch, who, with his usual vagueness about such matters,113 simply says, as we saw, that Lucullus moved after winter. 114 It is sometimes pointed out that Phlegon must imply that Lucullus took a whole summer to travel thirty miles on an unopposed route between Amisus and Cabira, which seems an unlikely proposition. 115 In fact, he does not imply any such thing.116 The campaign was long and difficult117 but Phlegon merely gives three details: Lucullus advances, he winters, Adrian wins a victory. He should not be taken to tell us any more than that. Quite simply, he has nothing to say about how long the journey took nor does he supply details of anything else that happened. He should therefore not be charged with saying what he does not say. Conclusion: We must believe Phlegon when he says Lucullus wintered at Cabira in the winter of 72/71 BC.

(x) MITHRIDATES IN ARMENIA The fate of Mithridates after Cabira has sometimes been invoked to fix the date of the start of the war.118 Tigranes at first would not receive Mithridates in person when he fled to him. According to Memnon, twenty months elapsed before he was admitted to the royal presence. Both he and Plutarch suggest this happened after the interview with Appius Claudius ‘in early 70’.119 Appian (Mith. 82, 85) puts the entrée a year later after the first engagement of Tigranes and Lucullus. So, concludes McGing (1984) p. 13, ‘if Plutarch and Memnon are right Mithridates’ flight from Cabira seems to fall in 72 and the beginning of the war in 74. Appian’s evidence favours 71 and 73.’ At best, this is inconclusive; at worst, it is open to some serious objections. It is by no means certain that Appius’ mission fell in 70; it may have been earlier. 120 This has obvious implications for Memnon’s ‘twenty months’, and the latter’s chronology is suspect in any case, like that of Plutarch and Appian. 121 Indeed, the whole argument may be misconceived. What is at issue, maybe, is not when Mithridates fled—a point upon which all sources agree—but when he was admitted to Tigranes’ presence. In other words, the length of time B takes place after A has no bearing on the existence of A. If we know definitely the date the Second World War ended then our knowledge of that is not affected by a dispute as to how many years after that point the Korean War began.

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Conclusion: Mithridates’ flight to Armenia tells us nothing conclusive about when the war started.

(xi) PLUTARCH Plutarch in his Sertorius gives us no clue as to exactly when its subject died. The Life of Lucullus is marginally more informative. As Plutarch depicts things in ch. 5 a war with Mithridates was regarded as imminent in Rome at the start of 74.

We have examined our evidence piecemeal in order to see what each element would yield and the value that might be put on it. It is now time to view it as a whole. The Livian tradition very fir mly puts the star t of the Third Mithridatic War in 74. No contradiction is offered by the contemporary Cicero and, indeed, at one point he dovetails neatly with the testimony of that tradition. Likewise, two of the three possible interpretations of the evidence that another contemporary—Sallust—offers about the pretender to the Bithynian throne can be seen to fit the date of 74. 122 Furthermore, what we know of Julius Caesar’s movements ties in well with the 74 date.123 Finally, the Livian date has the support of Phlegon. In contrast, the arguments contra are weak. The list of Diodorus proves to be undatable while the seeming exactitude of Velleius dissolves into loose wr iting. Most disappointing of all is Appian with his synchronization of the siege of Cyzicus with the death of Sertorius. From the Bella Civilia there is no way to deduce when he thought Sertorius died and so we cannot use this data to date the siege in the Mithridatica. Indeed, it could be argued that, in both accounts, Appian is employing an inexact system of chronology that makes it impossible for him to give precise dates.124 There remains but one objection that must be met. Some argue that there is not room in 74 to cram in all of the events that we suppose belong there.125 I would not agree. Because the Peace of Dardanus had never been ratified the Romans technically regarded Mithridates as an enemy and if they knew about the pact with Sertorius then they must have realized he was soon to become an active enemy. In addition, it is legitimate to infer from Sallust that they knew of a pretender who might make trouble when Nicomedes died.126 In other words, war will have been expected at the start of 74, precisely the situation described by Plutarch. The presence of Juncus in Bithynia early in 74 now becomes explicable. The Romans were reacting to the king’s death. They moved immediately not only to forestall a takeover by Mithridates but a possible palace-revolt. 127 And there is time for Cotta to arrive and replace Juncus before Mithridates arrives to defeat him. In the secondary literature it is generally assumed that Mithridates invaded Bithynia in the spring.128 This is not so. Mithridates invaded Paphlagonia in the spring and for a good reason.129 It was to be a staging-post for his army.130 In

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App. Mith. 69 we are given a long list of Mithridates’ European and Asian allies.131 Now if we look at the map one salient point emerges: for an invasion of Bithynia the most natural mustering-place for the Asiatic contingent would be Pontus itself. It was otherwise with the European. Were they to go to Pontus they would simply have to march back out again. Nor was this just a pointless exercise but it was one fraught with real peril. One of the problems encountered by Mithridates in the war was victualling his army.132 It is difficult, then, to see why he should multiply his difficulties by feeding men who were making a useless journey. On all counts Paphlagonia was the place for Mithridates to meet his friends from Europe, and join them to his Pontic army. Appian certainly grasped this point. The speech he puts into Mithridates’ mouth is that of a man who is only now mounting his campaign proper. With the muster complete the time for exhortation has begun. But gathering an army takes time and thus we may argue that we can see how Cotta was able to get into position in Bithynia before Mithridates arrived. And it was after Cotta’s initial defeat that Lucullus, who was delayed in Rome, came to the rescue. And all of this, I believe, happened in 74.

Notes

I LUCIUS LICINIUS LUCULLUS AND THE LUCULLI 1 van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 5–11; Drumann/Groebe (1964) p. 62; de Sanctis (1969) pp. 461–6; RE ‘Licinius’ and ‘Licinii Luculli’. The definition of nobility here followed is that of Gelzer (1969). Brunt’s questioning of it (1982) is ably answered by Shackleton Bailey (1986)—see also the severe remarks of Burckhardt (1990) pp. 77–82. The notion that Lucullus in later life assumed the agnomen ‘Ponticus’ is baseless, cf. Thomas (1977). The words of a minor Elizabethan, Sir William Herbert, illustrate perfectly a man’s pride in his birth: ‘[I see] little cause to think myself blemished by my blood being the heir male of that Earl that hath this day living nine earls and barons descended out of his body.’ In his case the boast seems to be true, cf. Keaveney and Madden (forthcoming). The Lucullus in Front. Strat. 3.10.7 is something of a puzzle. The incident has been assigned either to 114 when a war with the Scordisci was in progress or to the Dacian wars of Frontinus’ own day (RE ‘Licinii Luculli’ and ‘Scordisci’). I would suggest that P.Lucullus (trib. pleb. 110) is in question. After the trouble in his year of office (Sall. Jug. 37.1–2) he might well decide to leave Rome for a while, and the war with the Scordisci was still in progress (MRR 1.543). 2 The birth-date of Lucullus’ father is an inference from the probability that, thanks to his connections (see further below), his praetorship in 104 (MRR 1.559) was probably suo anno or very near it. Likewise the date of marriage is inferred from the birth-date of his sons (see next note). For Metella see Plut. Luc. 1. I see no need to detect in this tale a doublet of Lucullus’ own unhappy marriages, for which see ch. III. Of Metella Antonelli (1989) p. 8 says, ‘possiamo desumere che fosse bellissima anche, perché, in generale, solo le donne belle e aff ascinanti sono sottoposte continuamente alle prove della tentazione e quindi solo a loro, più facilmente che alle altre, capita di non superarle’—a comment which is ver y Italian, ver y imaginative and very flawed in its psychology. 3 Marcus held the aedileship suo anno in 79 (Plut. Luc. 1 with MRR

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6

7

8 9 10

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2.83) and so we know he was born in 116. Lucius is more problematical and what follows is a refinement of the discussion of Sumner (1973) pp. 113–14. Plutarch says that Lucius held the aedileship with his brother. Although he was older, he chose to delay assuming the office until the latter should come of age and they could hold it together. Since a voluntary act of renunciation is in question it follows that Lucius could conceivably have held office in either 81 or 80. For obvious reasons any abstention prior to November 82 could not be described as ‘voluntary’. So we can postulate 118 or 117 for Lucius’ birth-date. One circumstance favours the former. According to Cicero (Acad. 2.1) Lucullus factus aedilis, continue praetor [i.e. in 78] (licebat enim celerius legis praemio). This makes it clear that Lucullus had been allowed to ignore the biennium between aedileship and praetorship. No reason is given for this concession but it seems reasonable to suppose it was to allow him to claw back the time he had lost and assume the praetorship suo anno (for further remarks on this concession see ch. III). Selfevidently this squares with a birth-date in 118 but not one in 117. MRR 1.559 and van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 11–12. For some further observations on Roman elections see ch. III. Diod. Sic. 36.2. Walton ad loc. makes what seems to me to be the sensible observation that the natural inference from the text is that Vettius’ revolt took place near Capua, although Vogt (1974) p. 59 does not commit himself and Bradley (1989) pp. 72–3 merely says ‘probably’. I can see no reason for following van Ooteghem (1959) p. 13 in his acceptance of Münzer’s suggestion (RE ‘Licinius’ no. 103) that the revolt began in Lucania. On the background see further Bradley (1989) pp. 46–72. Diod. Sic. 36.8–9; Flor. 2.7.10–11 with Freeman (1892) pp. 327–9; Dumont (1987) pp. 248–52; Vogt (1974) pp. 56–9; Bradley (1989) pp. 66–79. There is probably no need to assume with e.g. Münzer RE ‘Lucullus’ no. 103 that Florus has mistakenly reversed the order of the governors. He seems to be offering a summary which is not necessarily chronological. Nor, despite Scardigli (1989) p. 326 n. 3, does he accuse Lucullus of indolence. The enigmatic text is De Vir. Ill. 62. Other sources are Plut. Luc. 1; Diod. Sic. 36.9; Cic. 2 Verr. 4.147—despite Hinard (1980) p. 208 n. 63, this last passage does not establish Lucullus’ guilt but rather illustrates the scrupulosity of Metellus, which can also be seen in App. BC 1.29–31. For the family relationship of the Servilii Badian (1984a) pp. 59–62 is fundamental. On the charge Lucullus faced see Keaveney (1982d) p. 113 n. 8. There is no need to assume that the feud (see below) between the Luculli and the Servilii predated this incident, as Hinard (1980) p. 205 does. This is certain (cf. n. 16) even if there is disagreement as to when the Luculli made their first move (cf. n. 9). Gruen (1968) p. 178; contra Badian (1984b) p. 306. Cic. Post Red. ad Quir. 6, Post Red. in Senatu 37. For Metellus’ exile see Greenidge and Clay pp. 105–7.

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11 Plut. Mar. 30–1 with Badian (1964) p. 171. See further ch. II. 12 See further n. 35 below and ch. II. 13 Cic. Acad. 2.1, Brut. 222 (with Douglas ad loc.); Tac. Dial. 37; Plut. Luc. 1, 33. For memory see Auct. ad Herr. 3.28ff. In the Acad. passage Cicero is clearly anxious to praise Lucullus’ oratory at the expense of his military exploits but at the same time he could hardly have hoped to get away with a complete fiction, cf. Badian (1984b) pp. 303–4. Besides the case we are about to discuss we know of another in which the brothers were involved. For this see Gruen (1971) pp. 54–5 and next note for its chronological significance. 14 Cic. Acad. 2.1; Plut. Luc. 1 with Badian (1984b) pp. 301–6 (the most recent discussion). In Acad. Cicero sketches the public career of Lucullus. Although there is bias (cf. n. 43) and omission—his trib. mil. (ILS 60) is not mentioned—there is no reason to doubt the order of events. We must remember, however, that no dates are given and nothing (with one exception) is said about the interval between each event. Thus we must believe Cicero when he says Lucullus admodum adulescens prosecuted Servilius and that this occurred before his quaestorship, the next event to be mentioned, but we must beware of drawing any further conclusion as to the amount of time which elapsed between the two. So Badian’s postulated date of 91 for the prosecution, which rests on this proximity, need not necessarily be right. Furthermore we may observe how Cicero repeats his data (idque eo…consumserat). The order of events is repeated but adulescentia here is clearly a long period of time which preceded the period of the quaestura. Badian himself points out that an adulescens could be anywhere between 19 and 32 in Cicero. As a subsidiary argument at this point it could be added that two prosecutions by the Luculli in 91 (n. 13) might be excessive. But can we be more precise? Val. Max. 5.4.4.—see Hinard (1980) p. 206—would seem to suggest the Luculli launched their prosecution upon assuming the toga virilis but this falls outside of the limits of adulescentia. Instead, I would invoke two factors: (a) the Luculli must have done some training between their father’s exile and the prosecution and (b) the likely date of Servilius’ postulated quaestorship which should fall in or around 100 (cf. Badian and next note). which has given rise to a number 15 Plut. Luc. 1: of different interpretations. Badian (1984b) p. 305 thought ambitus was meant while Gruen (1968) p. 177 n. 96 favoured maiestas. Among translators, the Loeb is vague (‘wronging the commonwealth’) while Scardigli (1989) p. 327 is precise (‘malversazione verso lo Stato’), pointing to what she believes is a resemblance to the trial of Pompey in 86 (Plut. Pomp. 4). Against ambitus and maiestas it can be said that these terms are rendered by and respectively (App. BC 2.24 with Mason). With regard to Scardigli it may be pointed out that (peculatus) occurs and is beautifully exemplified a few lines above in the Pompey passage. So something else must be meant. by itself in the sense of ‘harm, do wrong’, Plutarch uses

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17 18 19 20 21

22

23 24 25 26 27

28 29

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(Tib. Gracch. 9, 15; Comp. Ag/C. Gracch. 5). He uses in the sense, ‘at the public expense’ (Them. 10, C.Gracch. 5). Thus, putting the two together we get ‘he was doing wrong at the public expense’ which I take to mean not that he was stealing money but that he was applying it to some unlawful purpose. The two magistrates most likely to do this were quaestors and aediles. They were the only ones who could be prosecuted in office and the most probable charge would be perduellio (Greenidge (1911) pp. 99, 106, 181, 208–16). Given Servilius’ suggested career, I would suspect he was now quaestor rather than aedile. Badian (1984b) p. 303 attempts to date the trial by trying to find a political context for the riots but I would agree with Lintott (1968) p. 186 that such a context is not really necessary for it, and Cic. Prov. Cons. 22 would seem to support this view. The rioting is surely evidence of the bitterness of the feud (see below) rather than of anything else. So Quint. 12.7.3–4. See Cic. De Offic. 2.49–50 for the circumstances that justified such a prosecution. Plut. Luc. 1 with Gruen (1968) pp. 6–7; Epstein (1987) pp. 90–2. It was one of the types of prosecution that Cicero (n. 17) deemed honourable. Epstein (1987) p. 93; Hinard (1980). For the background see ch. II and Keaveney (1983d) pp. 56–76, 117–27, (1984b) p. 128, (1982b) pp. 154–60, (1983c) pp. 65–8. I accept Badian’s identification of Servilius—(1984b) pp. 304–5—but not all of his deductions therefrom. In my view, the absence of Servilius’ name from a proscription list cannot be brushed aside nor can we assume that every enemy of Sulla in 88 was a Marian. Likewise he need not necessarily have vanished from sight. He could be the Servilius of Lic. 20F or one of the two in MRR 2.72. The source for Vatia’s reconciliation is Cic. Prov. Cons. 22; the occasion my own deduction, cf. Epstein (1987) pp. 12–17. Grandfather and father: App. Iber. 51 with the remarks of van Ooteghem (1959) p. 17. Pliny NH 14.96 might, as van Ooteghem p. 176 thought, mean that Lucullus’ father left him little. But we must remember that what would seem a perfectly respectable fortune in the father’s generation would seem meagre in the son’s. Athen. 6.274f, 12.543a with the remarks of Scardigli (1989) p. 293. Shackleton Bailey (1976) p. 132; Hopkins (1983) pp. 49, 194–5. van Ooteghem (1959) p. 17; Villoresi (1939) p. 33; Antonelli (1989) pp. 8–9 seems to misunderstand the situation. Shackleton Bailey (1965) pp. 7–8. Heraclea: Cic. Pro Arch. 6; Calacte: Cic. 2 Verr. 4.49. On the meaning of apud see Reid (1899) p. 45, and for hospitium see Badian (1958) pp. 11–13. In this instance the connection did Eupolemus little good. Panormus: Cic. Ad Att. 1.19.10—it may be, of course, that Lucullus simply wanted to visit Atticus. See further ch. III. On this topic see Boyancé (1956); Horsfall (1979); Crawford (1978)

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31 32

33 34 35

36 37 38

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pp. 197–202; Petrochilos (1974) pp. 23–33; Rawson (1985) pp. 1–18; and further n. 55. Plut. Luc. 1; Cic. Ad Att. 1.19.10. On the vogue for histories of the Social War see Rawson (1985) p. 26. The dogmatism of Crawford (1978) p. 205 and n. 75 carries less than total conviction. See also Villoresi (1939) pp. 30–1. If, as Horsfall (1979) p. 79 suggests, Romans had mastered the Koine but still found Classical Greek difficult then Lucullus’ achievement becomes all the greater since it is like enough he would choose a Classical model for his work. Plut. Luc. 42; Cic. De Fin. 3.7–8; Isidore 6.5.1. The use of this late source is justified by the fact that it is in harmony with other stories of cultural looting. Cic. Pro Arch. 5. Cf. van Ooteghem (1959) p. 12 n. 9. This passage of the Pro Arch, tells against the suggestion of Reid (1899) p. 81 that Archias acted as tutor to the Luculli brothers. Nor does Pro Arch. 4 contradict Pro Arch. 5 as he thinks. Some believe Archias would have arrived while Lucullus père was still in Sicily. Cic. Pro Arch. 4–5, 18. Reid (1899) p. 39 does not believe Archias could have received the citizenship of Rhegium and Naples but see what is said in Pro Arch. 10. Cic. Pro Arch. 5–6. Cic. Pro Arch. 6–8. For the reading ‘M.’ in 6 see Reid (1899) p. 79. My suggested reconstruction of M.Lucullus’ journey is based on the fact that we are speaking of the 90s, a time when he would be a contubernalis (cf. n. 12 above) but not yet a senator and therefore ineligible for the libera legatio (cf. Willems (1968) I pp. 145–50) which Reid (1899) p. 40 assigns him. I also take account of the technical meaning of decedere which Reid recognizes but tries needlessly to deny here. Münzer (RE ‘Licinius’ no. 103) thought this was the place of exile of the elder Lucullus, and this would explain M.Lucullus’ influence. Two less plausible suggestions (van Ooteghem (1959) p. 170 n. 5) are that M.Lucullus was visiting Sicily to gather materials for the prosecution of Servilius the Augur or that Archias was accompanying Lucullus père. For Archias’ citizenship see SherwinWhite (1973) pp. 151–2 and Keaveney (1987) pp. 170–1. Cic. Pro Arch. 9–11 with Reid (1899) p. 45. On this man see RE ‘Antiochus’ no. 62 and Dillon (1977) pp. 52–106. Cic. Acad. 2.4, 11, 61; Plut. Luc. 28, 42; Aelian VH 12.25. Conventionally (cf. e.g. Dillon (1977) pp. 53–4) it is assumed Antiochus fled to Rome in 88 to escape Mithridates’ forces. There is no evidence for this and it does not fit well with Lucullus’ departure for the east in the spring of 87—Keaveney (1983d) pp. 81–3. An earlier date for the flight from Athens sits better with the latter and indeed with the turmoil in the city in the years preceding 88, a turmoil in which the philosophical schools were embroiled, cf. Badian (1976) pp. 511–14. Indeed, Cicero Acad. 2.4 does not rule out the possibility that Lucullus met Antiochus in Greece itself. Rawson (1985) p. 81 talks of a journey Antiochus made to Sicily but this appears to be a confusion with Archias’ trip there.

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39 Acad. 2.10–62. 40 Cic. Ad Att. 13.12.3, 13.19.5, 16.1; cf. also Ad Att. 13.13.1 and Reid (1885) pp. 32–5, 47 n. 9, 48–51. 41 Van Ooteghem (1959) p. 27; Reid (1885) p. 32. Sometimes those who held such views may be said to slightly overstate their case. For instance in Crawford (1975) p. 205 we read that ‘Lucullus’ real philistinism can be inferred from Cicero’s desperate protestations to the contrary’. A useful antidote to this latter will be found in the judicious remarks of Gelzer col. 412. Plutarch’s debt to Cicero is obvious, cf. Reid (1885) p. 33 n. 8 and Jones (1982). Other factors of course also come into play in forming his portrait. As a philosopher Plutarch was anxious to see in Lucullus a fellow philosopher and as a Platonist he liked to believe that Lucullus too aimed at the Beautiful (Luc. 1). See Wardman (1974) pp. 211–20 and Adam (1908) pp. 386–7. 42 This matter is dealt with in detail in ch. VIII. 43 On Cicero as a philosopher see, e.g., Rawson (1983) pp. 230–47. 44 Rawson (1985) pp. 4–5, 57–8; Reid (1885) p. 23; Petrochilos (1974) pp. 123–4. 45 This was certainly the view a century later, cf. Tac. Agric. 4. 46 Reid (1885) p. 33 n. 9 emphasizes this point. 47 This seems to have been particularly true of Hortensius, cf. Reid (1885) p. 44. Compare the Tudor gentleman. He was well educated and given to writing courtly verse. Cultivated and devoted to literature, he nevertheless took his philosophy at second hand, cf. Einstein (1962) pp. 163–6, 277–85, 336–40 and Keaveney and Madden (forthcoming). 48 Cf. Rawson (1985) p. 81. He may also have acted as an adviser in political matters, cf. ch. II. 49 Ep. 1.10. 50 Cf. Dillon (1977) pp. 61, 75. 51 Wardman (1974) pp. 203–20. 52 Reid (1885) p. 23 and Keaveney and Madden (forthcoming). 53 See ch. VIII. 54 Gellius 11.8. 55 Generalizations are dangerous, quantification impossible. See the useful treatment of Rawson (1985) pp. 3–18. 56 As Sulla recognized, cf. ch. II. See also Petrochilos (1974) pp. 31, 40–5. 57 Pliny NH 14.96. See Petrochilos (1974) pp. 75, 82 n. 5.

II MASTER AND PUPIL 1 On the Social War see Keaveney (1987) and Brunt (1988) pp. 93– 143. The latter is a revision of a JRS article (1965) and in it the author reaches conclusions similar to mine on a number of questions. It is possible to exaggerate perhaps the evil effects of the war, as in Keppie (1984) p. 70.

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2 Plut. Luc. 2; ILS 60; Polyb. 6.19.1. For length of service and its nonfulfilment see Keaveney (1980b) pp. 171–3 and Keppie (1984) pp. 33– 4. On the office in general: Suolahti (1956) pp. 35–57, 140–1, 160–2. 3 Keppie (1984) pp. 39–40; Harris (1971) pp. 13–14, 31, 36, 39–40. 4 Plut. Luc. 2. For the events of 89 see Keaveney (1983d) pp. 50–2 and (1987) pp. 151–61. Like many others, e.g. Villoresi (1939) p. 34, I assume Lucullus actually served under Sulla, although Plutarch does not say so. This would be the most natural way for Sulla to form an opinion as to his worth. Once this is accepted a glance at Keaveney (1987) pp. 210–11 will show how the rest of the reconstruction falls into place: since tribunes could serve for longer than a year (Suolahti 1956 p. 39) and since times were desperate it is quite possible Lucullus had also seen service in 90. 5 Sulla hardly needed lessons in constancy from anybody and there is certainly no evidence that any of Lucullus’ mildness rubbed off on him. 6 Plut. Luc. 2. For Sulla’s character see Keaveney (1983d) pp. 214–27. It should be noted that Lucullus’ entrée to Sulla’s circle in the first place may owe something to his being a first cousin to Sulla’s wife Metella, cf. van Ooteghem (1959) p. 18. 7 For the events of this year see Keaveney (1983c) pp. 56–77. 8 Cic. Pro Arch, 5, Acad. 2.1; De Vir. Ill 74; ILS 60 with MRR 1.555 n. 2, 3.121 and Greenidge (1911) p. 213. 9 Badian (1964) pp. 153, 220; Keaveney (1983d) pp. 37–8; 43–5, 78–9 and see McGing (1986) pp. 66–125 for the Mithridatic background. 10 For what could happen to you if you killed a Roman official see Cic. 2 Verr. 1.67–76. 11 Plut. Sulla 11, Cim. 1–2; App. Mith. 29; Obsequens 56 with Keaveney (1983d) p. 107 n. 7 and MRR. 2.15, 3.35; Syll 3 no. 743; IGRR vol. 4 nos. 701, 1191. I once believed—(1983d) p. 107 n. 9— that Paus. 1.20.4 referred to a skirmish between Lucullus and Archelaus but I now accept that it is only a garbled account of the campaigns of 86. I also divided—pp. 81–2—Sura’s campaigns between 88 and 87, but Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 132–4 has shown they may be accommodated in 88 alone. I see no reason however to accept his views on the fleet, cf. Keaveney (1981 a)— and my sequel to the encounter with Archelaus—(1983d) p. 107 n. 9—still seems valid. The dating of the incident in Plut. Cim. 1 has given rise to disagreement. I believe the key lies in finding a time when Lucullus would have both the motive and the authority to take troops away from Chaeroneia, which was usually under the jurisdiction of the governor of Macedonia (see Butler and Cary (1979) pp. 83–6). Hence the date adopted in the text. The date of 74 tentatively proposed in the Loeb edition fails to meet either of these two criteria, as does that of Gelzer col. 980 who places it during Lucullus’ journey home in 80. Further, his belief that Roman soldiers are not attested at Chaeroneia before mid-86 (Plut. Sulla 16) is contradicted by App. Mith. 29. It has also been suggested (cf. van Ooteghem 1959 p. 37 n. 3) that the incident be located in early 86 when Lucullus was setting

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14 15 16

17 18 19 20

21 22

213

out to gather a fleet (see below). However, it is doubtful if troops were then billeted in such a perilous position and even more doubtful if they could be spared, cf. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 84–6. Plut. Luc. 2, with Keaveney (1983d) pp. 82–6. The coins minted were imitations of Athenian new-style tetradrachms, cf. Crawford (1974) 1, p. 80 n. 1. Plut. Luc. 2; App. Mith. 33, cf. Mith. 24–7; Cic. Acad. 2.4, 11, 61 with Keaveney (1983d) pp. 82–6, (1984a) p. 119; Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 125, 264; Sands (1908) pp. 165–70; Antonelli (1989) p. 54. I would not agree with Villoresi (1939) p. 40 that the mission had some kind of propagandistic objective. Plut. Luc. 2; Strabo 10.4.9 with Ormerod (1978) pp. 210–12, 225–6. From App. Mith. 56 I infer that no active aid was offered to Lucullus here. Greenidge and Clay p. 118, cf. Bevan (1927) p. 332; Romanelli (1943) pp. 13–24; Laronde (1989) pp. 1006–11. Plut. Luc. 2, Mor. 255E–257E, cf. Jos. AJ 14.114 with Ormerod (1978) pp. 208–12; Romanelli (1943) pp. 27–46; Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 255, 263; Dillon (1977) pp. 61, 79; Laronde (1989) p. 1011. See further ch. IV and app. 2. Laronde (1989) p. 1011, contra Romanelli (1943) p. 44. Plut. Luc. 2. In my view Sherwin-White (1984) p. 140 n. 35 underestimates the difficulties Lucullus faced. Antonelli (1989) p. 56 is unconvincing. Plut. Luc. 2–3; App. Mith. 23; Cic. Acad. 2.11, 61 cf. MRR 1.539, 3.141–2; Bevan (1927) pp. 320–41; Badian (1967); Braund (1983) contra; Villoresi (1939) p. 42; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 28. Plutarch which might be a formal foedus amicitiae. It speaks of a could be the one mentioned in Jos. AJ 14.250 but neither its date or the identification of the Ptolemy there is certain, cf. Sands (1908) pp. 169–70. Cimma (1976) p. 241 n. 137 thought it was Alexander I, but her further suggestion—that this alleged favouring of his enemy by Rome conditioned Soter’s attitude now—seems unlikely. Otto and Bengtson (1938) pp. 159–60 suggest that Memmius may have been on an official mission to conclude a treaty. If none existed then Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 262–5 is surely right to insist that Rome’s long association with Egypt would be sufficient to lead her to expect aid from that quarter anyway. See also the remarks of Bulin (1983) pp. 24–6. (van Ooteghem p. Despite Plutarch, Soter was not a 28 n. 1) and he lived long enough to discover he had made a mistake on this occasion. See further in text and next note. Plut. Luc. 3; App. Mith. 56 with Ormerod (1978) pp. 198–9 and Bevan (1927) p. 334. No source actually says Lucullus lifted the blockade of Rhodes but it is an obvious inference from the sequel (see text). Lucullus’ voyages self-evidently extend over two years but no source informs us of the dividing-line between the events of 86

214

23

24

25 26

27

28

29 30 31

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and 85. However, since winter was near by the time he got to Cyprus, now seems the logical time and place for him to winter. On Greece see further below. It was probably now, rather than earlier (contra e.g. van Ooteghem 1959 p. 29), that Lucullus gathered ships from Pamphylia—an action which may have inspired a revolt against Mithridates in Termessus (Bruns7 p. 94). Plut. Luc. 3. On Cos see Sherwin-White (1978) pp. 138–40. Cnidus may have been set free by Sulla but this is not certain: see Keaveney (1983d) p. 233. Pre-war status of Samos: Magie (1950) 1 p. 115 and Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 235–6. I follow the latter’s (p. 243) plausible deduction from Plutarch as to what happened to Lucullus there. Despite Ormerod (1978) p. 212, the pirate attack on the place (App. Mith. 63) is probably later. Plut. Luc. 3. As the tyrant was firmly in control when Lucullus arrived it seems best to assume that the earlier revolt which took place just after the battle of Chaeroneia (Oros. 6.2.8; App. Mith. 46–8) had been suppressed. There seems to be no need to follow McGing (1986) p. 127 in postulating he had been imposed before the rebellion or Magie (1950) 1 pp. 225–6 in putting that rebellion in the autumn of 86. The later status of Colophon is not clear, cf. Keaveney (1983d) p. 233. Plut. Luc. 3; App. Mith. 25; Greenidge and Clay p. 179. See Keaveney (1983d) p. 231. Add Villoresi (1939) p. 49 n. 1 and Antonelli (1989) p. 62 to the selection in van Ooteghem (1959) p. 31 n. 1. Gelzer col. 379 wonders if Lucullus’ fleet would have been strong enough to impose a blockade. Plut. Luc. 3; App. Mith. 52; Oros. 6.2.10. Of the motives attributed to Lucullus in the text, the first two are found in Plutarch. The third is my substitution for his further remark that some kind of divine providence intervened to stop Lucullus now so as to reserve Mithridates as an opponent for later—a notion which could be true but probably should not be allowed to find its way into serious modern historical writing. Orosius puts a hostile construction on Lucullus’ third motive. Fimbria: Keaveney (1983d) pp. 92, 96, 100, 229; Magie (1950) 1 pp. 222, 226–8. Sulla’s position: Keaveney (1982b) pp. 155–6. Sources: Plut. Luc. 3; App. Mith. 56. Damagoras: App. Mith. 25; IGGR vol. 4 no. 1113. Neoptolemus: McGing (1986) p. 108; van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 31–2 appears to connect these incidents with Lucullus’ activities at Abydos (see below) but both Plutarch and Appian put them before. Plut. Luc. 4; App. Mith. 56. According to Appian, Sulla had only got as f ar as Cypsella in Thrace when Lucullus made contact. Background: Keaveney (1983d) pp. 84–105. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 110–17, 229–33. Keaveney (1982d) pp. 123–4, (1984a) pp. 119–21; contra Freeman (1986) p. 271 n. 21, cf. MRR 3.123. The lacuna in the gubernatorial staff of Cilicia between 95 and 84 to which Freeman p. 259 draws our attention can, up to a point, be explained. As he (p. 264) emphasizes the provincia was created to deal with piracy. During the

Notes

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33

34 35

36

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Social War, a time when many governors remained long at their posts, cf. Badian (1964) pp. 71–104, Rome is unlikely to have put this area high on its list of priorities. With the virtual ending of the war in 88 the time would seem right to send out Murena. But circumstances soon changed again and if he was unable to go near the place, neither was any Cinnan governor. Pirate War: Villoresi (1939) p. 54; Keaveney (1983d) pp. 115–17; Freeman (1986) pp. 259–60. Second Mithridatic War: Keaveney (1983d) pp. 185–7; Glew (1981). For some further remarks on the chronology see app. 1. The evidence supports Cicero’s contention (Acad. 2.2) that, in the main, Lucullus’ stay in Asia was peaceful. Plut. Luc. 4, 20; Cic. Acad. 2.1; App. Mith. 63; ILS 8772 with Magie (1950) 1 p. 238. Cf. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 112–13. ILS 805 from Delos erected by Greeks and Romans in Lucullus’ honour probably dates from this period. A mutilated inscription from Delphi (SEG I no. 153) may also honour Lucullus, cf. van Ooteghem (1959) p. 20 n. 2. Lucullus recoined the money but no specimens have been found (Magie 1950 2 p. 1118 n. 19). Keaveney (1983d) p. 230. Plut. Luc. 4, cf. n. 30 and App. Mith. 61. I proceed from the assumption that Lucullus would settle financial matters (his main task) before dealing with what was an isolated case of defiance. Since he was not as harsh as Sulla we may assume he also took some time over them—another trait which would commend him to the provincials. Hence the suggested date in the text for the start of hostilities. With his mild approach compare Pompey’s restoration of the town’s freedom in 62 (Magie 1950 1 p. 365). On all of this see app. 1.

III THE POLITIC MAN 1 Cic. Rep. 1.1–12, De Offic. 1.71–8 with Taylor (1949) pp. 25–8; Wiseman (1985) pp. 3–8. The ideal was revived in the Renaissance, cf. Einstein pp. 189–90 and Keaveney and Madden (forthcoming). 2 The Cicero passages cited in n. 1 acknowledge this fact of life. 3 See Gelzer (1969) pp. 54–138; Millar (1984) pp. 9–14, (1986) pp. 1–11; Wiseman (1985) pp. 3–19; North (1990); Keaveney (1987) pp. 76–92. 4 Keaveney (1987) pp. 87–92 and Millar (1984) pp. 14–16. 5 Plut. Luc. 4. 6 Val. Max. 6.2.8; Keaveney (1983d) p. 152; Seager (1979) pp. 8–13. 7 MRR 2.83 cf. Keaveney (1983d) p. 199 ch. I, n. 3, ch. II above; Antonelli (1989) p. 78; Badian (1983). 8 Cic. De Offic. 2.54–9 (plainly in two minds about the practice of buying popular favour); Val. Max. 2.4.6; RE ‘aedilis’; Greenidge (1911) pp. 208–12; Gelzer (1968) pp. 32–8; Scullard (1981) pp. 41, 182–3; Taylor (1949) pp. 30–1. Broughton’s doubts (MRR 3.31) about the interpretation of De Offic. 2.59 seem misplaced. The contrast Cicero draws is between those who were successful sine ullo munere and himself with an

216

9

10 11

12

13

14

15 16

17

Notes

exiguus sumptus. It is to this contrast that the phrase in hoc quoddam modo refers rather than to his failure to reach the censorship. The munus quaestorium of De Vir. Ill. 74 is probably a garbled reference to these games cf. Gelzer col. 373 and van Ooteghem (1959) p. 19 n. 3. On the stage machinery see Beare (1963) pp. 284, 300–2. Finances: Booty was certainly gained at Mytilene (Plut. Luc. 4). See further the observations of Scardigli (1989) pp. 293–4, although I do not agree with her view that Cic. Pro Flacc. 85 refers to Lucullus’ first Asian service. It surely refers to grateful provincials during his governorship. MRR 2.86; Keaveney (1983d) p. 173. Cic. Acad. 2.1. The first view is that of Badian (1964) p. 141 and Gelzer col. 381, the second that of Sumner (1973) p. 114. Badian (p. 154 n. 9) supports his thesis by claiming that privilegia were illegal. However privilegia appear to be laws har mful to the individual, cf. Cic. De Leg. 3.44, De Domo 43. There seems to be no prohibition on laws beneficial to an individual as, for instance, in the case of that which recalled Cicero from exile (MRR 2.200). David and Dondin (1980) pp. 206–8 believe Cicero’s phrase (Acad. 2.1) legis praemio means that as a result of a successful prosecution under the Lex Servilia Glaucia Lucullus was entitled to accelerate his career. However, nothing is known of this act and an exception of this sort is not attested elsewhere, cf. Sumner (1971) pp. 247–8, (1973) pp. 146–7 and Zumpt (1871) pp. 53–64. Plut. Luc. 1, 4, Sulla 6, 38, Pomp. 13; Suet. De Gramm. 12, Aug. 66; Cic. Phil 2.40–2, Brut. 262. See Peter, pp. CCCXX–CCCXXII; Pascucci (1975) pp. 294–6; Keaveney (1982d) pp. 128–37, (1979) pp. 54–5; Valgiglio (1975) p. 245 n. 1 who holds Sulla gave Lucullus his Memoirs to use as a source; Adcock (1956) pp. 10–13. Plut. Luc. 4—a passage that well illustrates Plutarch’s often undervalued capacity for psychological insight, cf. Keaveney (1982d) pp. 134–5. To call Lucullus Sulla’s ‘political heir’ is probably going too far, cf. ch. IV. There is nothing here analagous to, say, Cic. De Orat. 1.25. For a different view see Antonelli (1989) pp. 80–1. Sullani: Keaveney (1984a) pp. 144–9; Seager (1979) pp. 12–13. Seager (1979) pp. 14–18; Keaveney (1982d) pp. 135–7, (1983d) p.210—contra Leach (1978) pp. 40–1; Spann (1987) pp. 77–35; Holmes (1923) pp. 134–8, 365–9; Perelli (1982) pp. 160–5. Dio 36.41.1–2 with David and Dondin (1980) pp. 119–205. Broughton (MRR 3.121) wonders if a man like Acilius would have held the tribunate at a time when it led nowhere (see ch. IV). Cic. Brut. 239, invoked by David and Dondin, which describes him as negligent and sluggish, might seem to answer this objection even if he was behaving here with uncharacteristic energy. For a tentative suggestion as to another way around the difficulty see next note. David and Dondin (1980) pp. 202–5. Their discussion of the precedents for Glabrio’s action leads me to wonder if he might not have been standing on his dignity as a pontiff rather than as a tribune, cf. Liv. Ep. 47 with Pais (1915) pp. 320–1. Glabrio was

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20 21 22 23 24 25 26

27 28 29 30 31

32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

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certainly a pontiff by 73 (MRR 2.114) but could have joined the college earlier. If this suggestion is correct then it would remove Broughton’s objection (n. 16) but also one of the motives for his behaviour stated in the text. On Glabrio see further Hayne (1974). Cic. Acad. 2.1; De Vir. Ill. 74. Plutarch’s silence probably indicates he found nothing to report. Dio 38.41.1. David and Dondin (1980) pp. 205–9 argue that Lucullus refused Sardinia because he feared an accusation of repetundae on his return but this does not explain why he did not entertain a similar fear with regard to Afr ica. On praetorian provinces see Willems (1968) 2 pp. 545–6, 561–2, 570–87. MRR 2.89, 91. See also ch. IV n. 71. Plut. Pomp. 16; Cic. Leg. Man. 62. On the qualms see further below. Twyman (1972) pp. 843–4 although the prosopographical argument is dubious. Cic. Acad. 2.1–2, cf. Schol. Gron. p. 320 St. See the remarks of Seager (1979) pp. 187–8. A glance at the careers of the other consuls of the 70s will make this clear. The decade has been extensively studied. Paterson (1985) provides a useful introduction. Gruen (1974) pp. 7–82 is more detailed but his thesis that fundamentally all was well is unacceptable. Twyman (1972) is vitiated by mechanistic prosopography. Seager (1979) pp. 14–27 and Perelli (1982) pp. 159–71 study the role of Pompey and the populares respectively. Although Rossi speaks anachronistically of ‘parties’, his idea of a three-way split in the oligarchy seems plausible to me. See further below. Keaveney (1983d) p. 182; Hinard (1985) pp. 87–100, 152–212; Paterson (1985) p. 25. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 210–11; MRR 2.88. Gelzer (1968) pp. 20–1, 37–8. See Rawson (1983) pp. 60–88. See the remarks of Rawson (1983) pp. 71–3. Paterson (1985) p. 26 speaks of a desire for compromise as a characteristic of the Sullan senate. As we shall see (ch. IV) this could shade off into simple cowardice. Seager (1979) pp. 186–8. For two other examples see ch. IV and Keaveney (1981b) pp. 202–12. Seager (1979) pp. 16–17, 22–7, 61, 72–3. Keaveney (1982d); Seager (1979) pp. 8–13. See Seager (1979) p. 17 rather than Twyman (1972) p. 849. For a judicious assessment of Sertorius as a general see Spann (1987) pp. 140–6. Cic. Pro Font. 42, Leg. Man. 27. It must, of course, have been obvious even earlier. We may recall that the unwarlike Catulus had Pompey as a ‘special assistant’ when dealing with Lepidus. Seager (1979) pp. 23, 28. Opposition in the senate to the lex Gabinia was ‘almost universal’, cf. Seager (1979) p. 33.

218 40 41 42 43 44

45 46

47

48 49 50 51 52

Notes

Seager (1979) pp. 72–82. MRR 2.100. Seager (1979) pp. 33–5. See ch. IV. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 208–10, (1984a) pp. 138–9, 147–9; Gruen (1966); Badian (1964) pp. 212–14. Gruen (1974) p. 124 makes two pertinent observations about Cotta: there is no evidence of dissension between him and Lucullus during their consulship and the competition between them for gloria in Asia has no political significance. See further ch. IV. Plut. Luc. 1, cf. the speakers in Cic. Acad.; Seager (1979) p. 165; Keaveney (1983d) p. 210. Sources: Dio 36.14.4; Plut. Luc. 21, 34, 38, Cic. 29; Varro RR 3.16.2; Cic. Pro Mil. 73. The approximate date is arrived at by comparing Varro with Plut. Luc. 21 and MRR 2.96. Its significance has not always been recognized, cf. van Ooteghem (1959) p. 44 n. 1. See also app. 2. Sketches of the family will be found in Gruen (1974) pp. 97–8, Wiseman (1987) pp. 15–26 and Antonelli (1989) pp. 205–10 who describes them as ‘una bella nidiata di farabutti’. Wiseman (1969) pp. 50–60 discusses the identity of Lesbia. Taylor (1949) pp. 33–5; Hopkins (1983) pp. 86–8. I cannot agree with Gruen (1974) p. 98 n. 41 that Syme (1939) pp. 20, 23 has ‘perhaps unduly stressed’ the family’s marriage alliances. Varro RR 3.16.1–2 with Gelzer col. 406. Some (cf. Loeb note ad loc.) seem to have taken Appius seriously. On dowries see e.g. Hopkins (1983) p.77 and Gardner (1986) pp. 98–9. Gelzer (1969) pp. 110–12 and Taylor (1949) pp. 67–8. Note also what was said above (pp. 34–6) about the aedileship. Tertia married Q.Marcius Rex (cos. 68) and the other Clodia was the wife of Q.Metellus Celer (cos. 60), cf. Wiseman (1969) pp. 53–9. In my view Dixon (1983) pp. 102–3 may perhaps overstate her case. Compare Shackleton Bailey (1960). See also Hopkins (1983) pp. 84– 6. I can see no reason why the dulce and the utile cannot combine.

IV THE CONSULSHIP 1 Sources: Plut. Luc. 5, Pomp. 20, Sert. 21; Sall. Orat. Pomp. Cf. Holmes (1923) p. 378. The best discussions of this episode are Ward (1977b) pp. 35–41 and Seager (1979) pp. 19–20. What I owe to them and where I dissent from them will, I trust, be clear in what follows. For the Spanish background see Spann (1987) pp. 108–20. 2 Cf. Sall. Orat. Cott. 6. 3 Seager (1979) p. 19 n. 50 describes Ep. Pomp. 10 as ‘obscure’. To me it brings out far better than Plutarch what we may guess Pompey’s message to have been: he was a victim of circumstance and it was through no wish of his own that he was going to do what he said he would. See further below.

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4 Oost (1963) p.21; Rickman (1980) pp.50–1, 167–8; Ormerod (1978) pp. 231–2. 5 Badian (1958) p. 279. Sertorius, of course, had friends at Rome, cf. Plut. Pomp. 20 with Spann (1987) pp. 135–6, but I doubt very much if they could be held responsible for this present state of affairs. 6 The Loeb editor takes Ep. Pomp. 6–7 to mean Pompey would retire to Italy followed by Sertorius. I would not agree. It seems rather to refer to the stalemate then prevailing in Spain. Either side might yet win, cf. Leach (1978) p. 50. 7 Cf. ch. III. 8 Spann (1987) pp. 147–8. 9 On the view of Twyman (1972) p. 851 that Lucullus and Pompey were allies see Seager (1979) p. 19 n. 54. 10 Seager (1979) p. 19 n. 50 calls Plut. Pomp. 20 ‘obscure’. ‘Illogical’ might be a better term, just as ‘inconsistent’ probably fits Luc. 5 best. 11 For Lucullus’ attitude to Cisalpine Gaul see Plut. Luc. 5. When Sall. Hist. 2.98M speaks of a possible loss of laus by Lucullus I suspect he had some such scenario as this in mind. 12 For what it is worth, his legal position would probably be secure. Being forced out of one’s province (as he claimed) could hardly be said to be a breach of the Lex Cornelia de maiestate (Keaveney 1983d p. 171). Generals usually disbanded their armies on returning to Italy but this was not compulsory, cf. Keaveney (1982d) p. 129; Seager (1979) p. 22. We should also remember that Pompey was, anyway, ever a man to overlook niceties, cf. Seager (1979) p. 16. 13 Dignitas (Sall. Hist. 2.98M) could as a result be lost. An obvious starting-point for the quarrels would be recriminations over the military situation and who was responsible for it. 14 See further above and below for these difficulties. 15 Sall. Hist. 2.98M. 16 ibid. There is no evidence to support the statement of van Ooteghem (1959) p. 47 that Cethegus (see below) opposed Lucullus on this occasion. 17 Sources: Sall. Hist. 2.43M; App. BC 1.111. For the untrustworthiness of the latter’s dating see app. 2. See also Oost (1963) pp. 19–21 and Laronde (1989) p. 1011. In Badian (1958) p. 140 Lucullus’ intervention is taken for fact but see (1965) p. 119. Because Lucullus needed the aid of Cethegus to obtain the Mithridatic command (see below) Oost doubts if he had sufficient influence to sway the senate in this matter. But Cethegus only became decisive when there were sharp divisions and, if Lucullus really did play a part now, as in the case of Pompey’s supplies, there is likely, given the circumstances, to have been near unanimity. 18 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 169–70. For a different view see Hantos (1988) pp. 74–89, 130–47. For a comprehensive survey of the tribunate from 133 to 43 see Thommen (1989). 19 Keaveney (1983d) p. 170. Some Cornelii formed a college still in existence in 65 but dissolved in the next year, see Treggiari (1969) p. 171.

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20 Keaveney (1983d) p. 170; Rickman (1980) pp. 161–6; Garnsey and Rathbone (1985). 21 Marshall and Beness (1987) pp. 361–2; Perelli (1982) pp. 231–6. 22 See e.g. Gruen (1974) p. 188; Thommen (1989) p. 26. 23 Lic. 33–4F; Sall. Orat. Phil. 14; see Holmes pp. 367–8 and Marshall and Beness (1987) p. 365. We may recall (ch. III) the effect Lepidus may have had on Glabrio. 24 Cic. Brut. 216–17; Sall. Orat. Mac. 8, 10, Hist. 2.23–7M; Ps.-Asc. 189 St.; Quint. 11.3.129; Val. Max. 9.14.5; Pliny NH 7.55. Gruen (1974) p. 24 n. 52 seems to miss the point about Curio’s resemblance to Burbuleius. Sicinius’ fate is mysterious. Sall. Orat. Mac. 8 says he was circumventus est and that (10) Curio ad exitium usque insontis tribuni damnatus est. I would not agree with Thommen (1989) p. 27 n. 44 that he was killed—a tribune’s sacrosanctity even now was not to be lightly ignored. Gruen thinks exitium might mean ‘political destruction’ but it is difficult to see why Curio would encompass this since it would automatically come at the end of the year. I take circumventus est to refer to a verbal clash during the year (see further on Lucullus below) and exitium to be a loose reference to a successful prosecution after the tribunate as in the case of Opimius (see below)—a view hesitantly shared by Marshall and Beness (1987) p. 367. 25 Asc. 66–7C (=Sall. Hist. 2.49M), 79C; Sall. Hist. 2.44–6, 48M, Orat. Cott., Orat. Mac. 8; Ps.-Asc. p. 255 St.; Cic. 2 Verr. 3.215 with Keaveney (1979) p. 457 n. 187; (1984a) pp. 147–8; Seager (1979) pp. 18–19; Marshall and Beness (1987) pp. 368–9; Thommen (1989) pp. 228–9; Lintott (1968) pp. 175–203. The long and pedestr ian discussion of Malitz (1972) yields small profit. The connection between bread r iot and political refor m, needlessly denied by Thommen (1989) p. 27 n. 44, is examined in detail by Virlouvet (1985). For the French Revolution see e.g. Rudé (1972) pp. 112–27. We need not press the analogy so far as to postulate that Sulla intended a pacte de famine! While I believe their general point to be correct I think that Marshall and Beness p. 363 draw too fine a distinction between the political and economic aspects of these moments of crisis. The need for an external stimulus such as that observable here explains why the earlier attempts of Lepidus and Sicinius to achieve reform were unsuccessful. One final observation: if, as some think, a tribune could exercise his intercessio against a bill then it is strange the Sullans could not find a suitable tool to deploy against Cotta. 26 Cic. 2.Verr. 1.155–7; Asc. 66–7C, 78C. Ps.-Asc. p. 255 St. In my view Marshall and Beness (1987) pp. 369–70 misunderstand the significance of the abrogation of Cotta’s other laws. See further below. 27 Plut. Luc. 5, cf. Luc. 2 and 7; Sall. Orat. Mac. 11; Ps.-Asc. p. 189 St.; Cic. Pro Cluentio 110, 136–7 with app. 2 (i); Seager (1979) p. 18; Gruen (1974) pp. 28, 33–4; Oost (1963) pp. 20–1; Thommen (1989) pp. 159–60, 163, 225–6, 229. On the theme of Rome’s domestic problems as a hindrance to

Notes

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30 31 32 33 34 35 36

37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

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her foreign policy see app. 2 n. 91 and further below. The pirates’ connections with Mithridates (see below) furnished yet another reason for proceeding against them. See Burckhardt (1988) pp. 159–77. See ch. II; Keaveney (1983b) pp. 185–7; Glew (1981) pp. 109–20. Two observations: Mithr idates’ discontent with the peace of Dardanus came earlier than Glew seems to think (Plut. Sull. 23) and the reasons he assigns for Cicero’s laudatory remarks on Murena (p. 128) are not perhaps, completely convincing. For a different and, I believe, more plausible explanation see app. 1. Keaveney (1981b) pp. 200–1. App. Mith. 67. On senatorial practice with regard to embassies see now Bonnefond-Coudry (1989) pp. 294–320. Keaveney (1983d) p. 105, where an attempt is made to justify Sulla’s action. Or at least Sallust (Ep. Mith. 13) portrays him doing so. Ever before his mind must have been the thought that it was his hostis status that gave Murena his excuse for attack, cf. Keaveney (1983d) p. 196. See ch. II. App. 2; Glew (1981) pp. 121–30; McGing (1986) pp. 136–45; Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 159–62; Spann (1987) pp. 99–104; Scardigli (1971) pp. 252–8; Cimma (1976) pp. 204–7. Some specific points may be mentioned. On Mithridates’ earlier sharp dealing see Keaveney (1980a) pp. 154–7. His barbarian allies will be found in App. Mith. 69, 119. For the pirates see Ormerod (1978) pp. 212–20. Because Cicero tells us Fannius and Magius bought the boat in which they travelled to Spain in 79 (2 Verr. 1.87) this has led to difficulties since it appears to clash with App. Mith. 68 which unequivocally puts the treaty in the year before war—compare, for example, Glew p. 126 n. 69; Scardigli p. 255 n. 100 and McGing pp. 137–8. Yet the difficulty is probably more apparent than real. Cicero actually says the pair sailed ad omnes populi Romani hostes ab Dianio ad Sinopen. In other words, a number of voyages to Roman enemies in the years 79–75 would seem to be suggested. Sertorius was not the only ally the duo secured for Mithridates. As part of Mithridates’ great diplomatic drive they may well have called on some of the peoples in App. Mith. 69. Later, we may observe, Mithridates made more of the claims of the Bithynian pretender than he did of his own (Ep. Mith. 9). App. Mith. 69–70; MRR 2.98 with app. 2, especially the section on Appian (v) and the general conclusion. Contra Twyman (1972) pp. 854–5, cf. Gruen (1974) p. 124. See ch. III n. 44. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 163. Plut. Luc. 5–6. See below. Note what Plutarch has to say in Luc. 6. See below. See ch. V.

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46 Plut. Mar. 40; App. BC 1.60, 62, 80; Val. Max. 9.2.1. Antonelli (1989) p. 84 confuses him with the Catilinarian conspirator. Pace Sumner (1973) p. 106, Cic. Brut. 178 does not necessarily imply that Cethegus reached the praetorship. See further n. 51. 47 Sall. Orat. Phil. 20 with Badian (1958) p. 280 n. 3; Spann (1987) p. 136; Keaveney (1984a) pp. 139–40, 142–3, 146. 48 Cic. Parad. 5.40 and further below. Cethegus’ influence was confined to the senate—so (rightly) Twyman (1972) pp. 852–3, 860–1 against Taylor (1949) p. 70. 49 Cic. Brut. 178. See Gelzer (1969) pp. 70–101, 110–23. Taylor’s suggestion, (1949) p. 70, that Cethegus may have resorted to organized bribery is unfounded, cf. further n. 51. Acceptance of gifts may betoken greed, not need, or it may simply indicate that the recipient is an uomo di rispetto. 50 See Bonnefond-Coudry (1989) pp. 595–654, 51 Cic. Brut, 178 (cf. De Leg. 3.41) with Gruen (1974) pp. 162–3, 175– 7, 189–99, 201–5; Keaveney (1983d) pp. 174–5; Gelzer (1969) pp. 75–6, 103–4; How (1926) p. 92; Bonnefond-Coudry (1989) pp. 655– 76. When Pompey entered the senate he had a handbook of procedure prepared for his use: Seager (1979) p. 27. This is testimony not only to the complexity of those procedures but also to the great man’s desire not to put himself under obligation to another. Meier (1966) pp. 180–1 points out the relevance of Cic. De Orat. 3.136 to our view of Cethegus, but I cannot agree with him that mastery of procedure and control of a bloc of votes are two separate sources of power. 52 Cic. Pro Cluent. 84–5 with Gruen (1974) pp. 201–2. A number of points require comment: (a) Cicero does not state as a fact that Staienus applied to Cethegus, merely that it was widely believed that he did. The existence of such a belief, however, is significant, (b) The words improbitatem versari in republica nollet accord ill with the general modern view of Cethegus as a rascal and with Cicero’s description of him elsewhere (Parad. 5.40) as not being probatissimus. (c) Why Cethegus was believed to hate Staienus and see him as an adversarium is not clear. The suggestion of the Loeb editor that they were rivals for the aedileship (cf. Pro Cluent. 69) seems unlikely. I would tentatively suggest he feared Staienus’ ambition and ability (Brut, 241). 53 Ps.-Asc. p. 259 St. Cf. MRR 2.101. 54 Plut. Luc. 5. For the probable basis for Balsdon’s hint, (1974) p. 53, that Lucullus himself was guilty of sexual impropriety see ch. VIII. 55 Plut. Luc. 6 is our sole source for this episode. It is very difficult to give her a background. She might be connected with the Precius known to Cicero (Ad Fam. 7.8.2, 14.5.2, Ad Att. 9.9.4, 6.9.2)—see Shackleton Bailey (1976) pp. 61, 126. 56 For Roman prostitutes (classy or otherwise) see Wiseman (1987) pp.30–5 and Gardner (1986) pp. 132–4, 250–3. 57 It probably deserves about as much credence as Cicero’s description of Clodia as a whore. See Balsdon (1974) pp. 54–5. Her exact status

Notes

58 59 60

61 62 63

64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

72 73 74 75

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is as elusive as her background (n. 55). Most likely she was a docta puella, for which see Balsdon p. 56, and might once have been an entertainer, cf. Gardner (1986) pp. 246–8. She must have been on a par at least with Volumnia, actress and mistress to the great, whose presence at a dinner-party once shocked Cicero, cf. Balsdon p. 53. No doubt her enemies would have liked to see her wind up among the ruined women of Sall. Cat. 24.3–4 but there is something of the Fulvia (Cat. 23) about her. Scardigli (1989) p. 350 n. 74. As Scardigli (1989) p. 350 n. 75 observes, a further piece of evidence (cf. chs I and II) for the wealth of the Lucullan family. MRR 2.101. It is but common sense to assume that Lucullus simply joined the existing alliance (n. 53) of Cotta and Cethegus and that when Cotta pressed the senate (Plut. Luc. 6) he knew he could enjoy the support of Lucullus and Cethegus. To the selection of views in van Ooteghem (1959) p. 54 n. 6 add now Balsdon (1974) p. 53 and Seager (1979) p. 19. Dixon (1983); Wiseman (1987) pp. 39–45; Balsdon (1974) pp. 45–62; Gardner (1986) pp. 204–65. Of an important speech to the House of Commons by Sir Geoffrey Howe the Guardian (14 Nov. 1990, p. 1) reported, ‘Some Tories blamed Lady Howe, “That speech took Elspeth 10 minutes to write and Geoffrey 10 years to deliver,” said one minister.’ MRR 2.101; app. 2 on Cicero; ch. V. Willems (1968) 2 pp. 608–9. For an illustration of a political staff see Badian (1964) pp. 52–5 but note the different analysis of Keaveney (1987) pp. 208–9. MRR 2.547. See ch. III. Plut. Cat. Min. 19 with MRR 2.140, 142 n. 10 and Greenidge (1911) p. 324. MRR 2.581. For the view that Lucullus and Murena may have been related see ch. V. MRR 2.105; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 63; ch. III. Cic. Pro Scauro 29, 2 Verr. 1.37; Asc. 19C with RE ‘Valerius’ no. 363; MRR 2.631, 3.214–15; Shackleton Bailey (1976) pp. 71–2; Wiseman (1971) p. 269. Exuperantius 4 describes Triarius as a propraetor in Sardinia. Marshall (1972) p. 903 points out that all consular and praetorian governors post Sulla held the imperium proconsule and so he deduces that Triarius was a legatus pro praetore. The objection to this view, I think, is would Exuperantius have been aware of such niceties? We should not rule out the possibility that Triarius had been a praetor and may even have swapped the province of Africa with Lucullus, cf. ch. III. MRR 2.134; Wiseman (1971) p. 259. MRR 2.105; Magie (1950) 2 p. 1208 n. 15. MRR 2.140. Willems (1968) 1 p. 505 thought he was the son of a Marian governor of Africa but then he would surely have been barred from public life. See Hinard (1985) p. 85. MRR 2.129. Possibly an L.Marcius. Crawford (1974) no. 363

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thought he might be the monetolis of 82 but the probability is that he was proscribed. That the moneyer may have been the father of the cos. 39 is neither here nor there: all disability on Marians were removed by then. See Hinard (1985) p. 374. 76 MRR 2.120, 3.167. 77 MRR 2.113, 537, 3.34, 199–200; Syme (1979) pp. 601–2; Coarelli (1987) pp. 178–9. Against the second identification mentioned in the text we may urge that the movements of both Voconius and Barba render it unlikely. See ch. V. 78 Smith (1958) pp. 59–69; Keppie (1984) pp. 76–8. We are not, of course, speaking of some kind of irresistible force. In 67 Pompey’s army was stuffed with political appointees: Seager (1979) pp. 36–7.

V CONFRONTING THE KING: THE WAR WITH MITHRIDATES 1 Lucullus’ entry-point: Smith (1960) p. 13 and Holmes (1923) pp. 403–4. I think Sherwin-White (1984) p. 165 is mistaken in saying all Asian troops come from Cilicia. Servilius’ campaigns: MRR 2.87ff. Lucullus’ army: MRR 2.101. Dio 36.14.3 definitely says the Fimbrians were discharged. Smith p. 13 thought this was after the departure of Murena but after the fall of Mytilene is more likely. Either date, anyway, tells against the view of Magie (1950) 1 p. 324 that they had not seen active service for ten years but does pose the problem of their status in the interval until Lucullus arrived, cf. Keaveney (1982d) pp. 128–30. Two circumstances suggest, however, that the demobilization and re-enlistment happened as I have portrayed it in my text. The garrison of Asia of which Cotta speaks in 75 (Sall. Orat. Cotta 7) was surely composed of Fimbrians, a circumstance which, incidentally, would account for their illdiscipline (Plut. Luc. 7) and would also square ill with SherwinWhite’s suggestion (p. 166) that they had been in Cilicia. Further, when Lucullus’ command was taken from him the Fimbr ians claimed they had enlisted only for the duration of his campaign, cf. ch. VI. The assumption made by McGing (1984) p. 16 that Lucullus could not move while restoring discipline is not necessarily correct. 2 Most familiar to the English reader as ‘Scutari’. 3 Plut. Luc. 7–8; Sall. Hist. 3.23–4M; Memnon 27.2, 7–8 (Jacoby 3B pp. 355–6); App. Mith. 71; Liv. Ep. 93; De Vir. Ill. 74; Oros. 6.2.13; Eutrop. 6.6.2; Cic. Pro Mur. 33. Cf. McGing (1986) pp. 143. 145–6, and Holmes (1923) pp. 403–4. Although the latter dates Lucullus’ decision to abandon the attack on Pontus to the time when Cotta’s defeat became known, it seems to me just as likely to have happened when news of the invasion of Bithynia came in. In this respect it should be noted that Orosius says Marius was despatched against Lucullus before the defeat at Chalcedon (see below), which would seem to indicate it was already known he was on his way. 4 Scardigli (1989) p. 359 n. 102 suggests the object was a meteor.

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5 Plut. Luc. 8, with van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 69–70. For Oros. 6.2.13 see n. 3 above. Liv. Ep. 94 seems to refer to all events from the defeat of Cotta to the start of the siege of Cyzicus. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 168 n. 37 believes that Memnon 28.1 (Jacoby 3B p. 386) probably refers to these encounters. Lucullus’ strategy: SherwinWhite pp. 166–8. 6 Plut. Luc. 9; Sall. Hist. 3.27M with Hasluck (1910) pp. 178–9. When our sources (ILS 60; De Vir, Ill 74) speak of Lucullus’ relief of the siege of Chalcedon they mean Mithr idates withdrew at his approach. On this point van Ooteghem (1959) p. 69 n. 2 is to be preferred to Gelzer col. 386. 7 ‘An imposing mountainous mass…roughly tr iangular in shape’ (Hasluck 1910 p. 1). 8 The site is close to the modern town of Bandirma. 9 Strabo 12.8.11 with the commentary of van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 71–5 and the discussion of Hasluck (1910) pp. 1–6. 10 Mithridates’ intentions may be deduced from the physical location and advantages of Cyzicus and from the narrative of the siege. Although they were thwarted, the lineaments of his plans, as we shall demonstrate, are clearly discernible in those events. Note also the remarks of McGing (1986) pp. 146–7; Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 166–9; Magie (1950) 1 p. 326. App. Mith. 73 emphasizes the importance of the corn-store (for which see Strabo in n. 9) but, so far as I am aware, only Hasluck (1910) p. 179 among moderns recognizes this. 11 Plut. Luc. 9; Strabo 12.8.11. See Hasluck (1910) p. 48. 12 Eumachus: App. Mith. 75; Oros. 6.2.18; Liv. Ep. 94 with Magie (1950) 2 p. 1176 n. 33. Metrophanes/Fannius: Oros. 6.2.18 (Zangmeister’s Moesiam cannot be right); Liv. 94 (fr.). Marius: Plut. Sert. 24 with Mag ie (1950) 2 p. 1206 n. 10. Plainly these expeditions were launched before Lucullus blockaded Mithridates (see below). Gelzer col. 386 puts them before the siege started at all but in the case of Marius and Eumachus this is impossible. The pair engaged Lucullus right up to the start of the siege (Oros. 6.2.13) and thus there is no time for a fresh expedition until now. In view of what we know of Eumachus’ movements Sherwin-White’s views, (1984) p. 166, of Mithridates’ strategy may require modification. 13 From Memnon 29.5 (Jacoby 3B p. 358) we hear of the return of these ships but not their setting-out. I follow Magie (1950) 1 p. 326, 2 p. 1207 n. 11 since the hour of Mithridates’ greatest triumph is the logical time and the gesture is in har mony with the indulgence of Marius. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 170 n. 40 does not appear to have considered these factors. Reinach (1895) p. 314 puts the despatch just after the victory at Chalcedon. 14 Hasluck (1910) p. 48: ‘the single narrow approach…is possibly to be found in the bed of a stream flowing from the neighbourhood of Aidinjik (Edincik) to lake Aphnitis (Manyas or Kuz).’ The Aphnitis is confused with the Artyma (Ulubat) in the Everyman Atlas of 1907: see further n. 20.

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15 Plut. Luc. 9; App. Mith. 72; Oros. 6.2.14; Sall. Hist. 3.25–9M. Cf. Hasluck (1910) p. 50. 16 App. Mith. 72. See further below and app. 2 (iv). 17 App. Mith. 72–3; Oros. 6.2.14. See Reinach (1895) p. 324; SherwinWhite (1984) pp. 167–9; Hasluck (1910) p. 179. 18 App. Mith. 73; Sall. Hist. 3.30M. I assume Mithridates began preparations immediately on arrival and that they would take time to complete. See n. 22. 19 For the two versions compare Plut. Luc. 9 with our other sources, Front. Strat. 3.13.6; Oros. 6.2.14; Flor. 1.40.16; Sall. Hist. 3.37M. Hasluck (1910) p. 179 seems to equate the swimmer with the messenger from Archelaus but the difference in details between the two versions probably rules it out. Hasluck p. 50 demonstrates that Lucullus’ soldiers could indeed be seen in the Thracian village. 20 As the town of Dascylium lay on Lake Aphnitis (Turkey Blue Guide) Plutarch calls it ‘Dascylitis’. The equation of this lake with Ulubat in Everyman Atlas (1907)—it is not given a name in the 1961 edition—makes for an impossibly long journey. 21 Plut. Luc. 9. See Hasluck (1910) pp. 45–7, 181. Later in the siege we shall discover one of these soldiers displaying his skills, and this tells against Strabo’s statement (12.8.11) that they came tardily. In any case it should be noted he is not offering a chronological narrative. 22 App. Mith. 73; Front. Strat. 4.5.21. Hasluck (1910) p. 179 may exaggerate the importance of Pisistratus and is probably wrong to suggest Mithridates’ siege preparations were not yet complete, cf. n. 18. 23 App. Mith. 74; Plut. Luc. 10; Sall. Hist. 3.34–6M. Was this storm the first sign of the onset of winter? 24 Plut. Luc. 10; App. Mith. 75 from whom the place of the incident in the chronological sequence can be deduced. On Persephone and Cyzicus see Hasluck (1910) pp. 210–11. 25 App. Mith 75; Plut. Luc. 11; Oros. 6.2.15; Strabo 12.8.11; Sall. Hist. 3.41–2M and possibly also 40M, cf. n. 27. Memnon 28.1 (Jacoby 3B p. 356) may refer to this too. Plutarch’s claim that Mithridates’ officers kept him in ignorance of the extent of the famine is probably true. It was sometimes dangerous to tell an eastern despot the truth (cf. ch. VI). On the camp Lucullus was attacking I take my cue from Gelzer col. 387. On the road taken by the fugitives see Hasluck (1910) pp. 78–9, 124–31 from which I deduce the site of the battle. Apollonia: Hasluck (1910) pp. 68–9. It lay on Lake Ulubat whose old name, Apolyont, preserved its memory. 26 Eumachus, Metrophanes, Mar ius; see n. 12. For Mar ius’ later activities see below. Naso: ILS 37 with Magie (1950) 2 p. 1208 n. 15. The usefulness of Holmes’ discussion of Eumachus (1923) p. 404 is vitiated by his ignorance of Oros. 6.2.18. The young Julius Caesar took part in these campaigns, see app. 2, section (viii). 27 App, Mith. 76; Liv. Ep. 95; Sall. Hist. 3.38–9M. Maurenbrecher believes Sall. Hist. 3.40M refers to the pursuit to Lopadium (n. 25), but with equal plausibility it could refer to these famine conditions. I suspect that Sall. Hist. 3.31M may refer to a scene akin to that in Plut. Ant.

Notes

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29

30 31

32

33 34

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75. In view of the king’s recklessness, obviously consequent on desperation, I assign Diod. Sic. 37.22b and Strabo 12.8.11 to this point in the siege. In the light of the storms Mithridates encountered (see below) I deduce he left at the earliest possible moment. Plut. Luc. 11, 33; Memnon 28.2. (Jacoby 3B p. 380); Sall. Hist. 3.32– 3M. Cf. Gelzer col. 388. I cannot agree with Mattingly (1980) p. 1505 that Aristonicus only had a few specimen coins with him. The need for generosity was great. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 170 n. 40 equates Aristonicus’ fleet with the one in Memnon 29.5 (Jacoby 3B p. 358) but this is doubtful. It is by no means certain the fleet sailed after Aristonicus’ capture (Mattingly p. 1505). Moreover the fleet in Memnon 29.5 had Spain as its objective and it is unlikely to have been sent there now, cf. n. 13. The more modest brief of the Aegean assigned to Aristonicus fits the current situation better. Plut. Luc. 11; App. Mith. 76; Memnon 28.3–4 (Jacoby 3B pp. 356–7); Oros. 6.2.19. For the Lampsacus road see n. 25. Plutarch mentions only the Granicus, Appian only the Aesepus. Both van Ooteghem (1959) p. 81 n. 4 and Gelzer col. 388 point out that Lucullus must have attacked at both and they are supported by Flor. 1.40.17 who, for once, may have got things right. Crossing places: Hasluck (1910) p. 127 and Magie (1950) 2 p. 901 n. 116. The geographical considerations tell against the elaborate theories of Coarelli (1987) pp. 157–9. Plut. Luc. 12; App. Mith. 76. See Gelzer col. 388 and Keaveney (1983d) p. 230. Plut. Luc. 12; App. Mith. 77; Memnon 28.5–8 (Jacoby 3B p. 357). Appian confuses Prusa and Prusias. Oros. 6.2.23 attributes to Lucullus the capture of Apamea and Prusa. This may be a mistake as Reinach (1895) p. 330 n. 2 thought, but it could be the result of compressed narration. A glance at the map will show that, contrary to what Appian implies and van Ooteghem (1959) p. 84 accepts, some of these battles are on land. App. Mith. 77; Plut. Luc. 12–13 with Magie (1950) 2 p. 1209 n. 20. The only clue as to when the senate voted money is supplied by Plutarch who puts it before the king’s retreat to Bithynia. Magie 1 pp. 326, 330 is surely right to see it as a response to the events at Chalcedon and the charges arising. See further n. 34. App. Mith. 76; Memnon 28.4 (Jacoby 3B p. 357). In the light of App. Mith. 78 and Oros. 6.2.24 van Ooteghem’s reconstruction (1959) p. 84 of Mithridates’ movements cannot be accepted. App. Mith. 76–7; Plut. Luc. 12; Eutrop. 6.6.3; Oros. 6.2.21–2. Three passages of Cicero (Pro Arch. 21, Mur. 33, Leg. Man. 21) speak of the defeat of a Sertorian fleet making for Italy off Tenedos. Some, e.g. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 171 n. 42, think he is referring to the later victory of Triarius at the same spot (see below). The detail in Memnon 29.5 (Jacoby 3B p. 358) that this fleet was not sailing towards Italy is of little moment since Rome would not necessarily know of its precise movements. What seems to me decisive are the wreathed despatches for which see van Ooteghem (1959) p. 86 n.

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35

36

37

38 39

Notes

64. Cicero’s fulsome language surely fits best with a victory announced in this fashion. Plut. Luc. 13; App. Mith. 78; Oros. 6.2.24; Eutrop. 6.6.3; Cic. Prov. Cons. 6; Tac. Ann. 12.62; Memnon 29.1–3 (Jacoby 3B p. 355); Flor. 1.40.18–20. Given that Triarius probably had a fleet (Memnon 28.7) and that (Memnon 29.1) we he and Cotta beseiged Nicomedeia must assume it was very small and that Voconius was intended to remedy the deficiency. There would appear to be no support for the notion (MRR 2.113) that Lucullus intended him to block the Bosporus. Although Mithridates is represented as saying he was on his way home, the storm at Parium mentioned in Ep. Mith. 14 must, as Gelzer col. 388 saw, refer to that in n. 33. Plutarch attributes the storm to divine vengeance for the looting of a temple at Priapus by the Pontic forces. Plut. Luc. 14; Memnon 29.5 (Jacoby 3B p. 358); App. Mith. 77 with Magie (1950) 1 p.332 and Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 170–1. For the Lex Cornelia and exemptions therefrom see Keaveney (1983d) p. 171 and (1982c) p. 417. Since no source taxes Lucullus with treason I assume that he received such an exemption. Later complaints are partisan and politically motivated (cf. ch. VI). No source says why the fleet was retur ning. The reason given in the text is my deduction from the war situation. If we could be sure Sertorius really died in 73 we could then follow Magic in giving that as the cause, but see app. 2. App. Mith. 78; Plut. Luc. 14; Memnon 29.6 (Jacoby 3B pp. 358–9). On Lucullus’ route Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 171–2 is, I think, to be preferred to Magie (1950) 2. p. 1209 n. 23. To march through friendly country such as this makes perfect sense. There is no evidence to support van Ooteghem’s suggestion (1959) p. 89 that it was winter when Lucullus came to Pontus. The abundance suggests Autumn. For more treachery on the part of Mithridates’ officers see below and Strabo 10.4.10, 12.3.33. The commonly held view that Machares turned traitor now is, I believe, mistaken. See n. 54. On Parthia and Armenia see further ch. VI. Not strictly true (see above) but the context would hardly lead us to expect a pedantic concern with accuracy. Plut. Luc. 14–15; Memnon 29.7 (Jacoby 3B p. 359); App. Mith. 78; Sall. Hist. 3.58M. See Magie (1950) 2 p. 1213 n. 33; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 171; van Ooteghem pp. 89–91. Maurenbrecher’s denial that the Sallust fragment can be put at this place is not convincing. There is no trace in our sources of the reluctance of the troops to invade Armenia to which he would attribute this mention here. On the other hand, Plutarch, despite the insistence of Maurenbrecher to the contrary, does show Lucullus answering some of his critics. Now this is not to say that yet another context could not be found for the fragment. It would fit well with the anger of the soldiers when Lucullus at first refused them permission to loot the captured town (see below). Villoresi

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(1939) p. 104 n. 5 would not attach much weight to Lucullus’ outline of strategy in Luc. 14 but, like Sherwin-White, I believe a kernel of truth may be extracted from it. The one glar ingly incongruous element—the attribution of hostile intent to Tigranes (see above and ch. VI)—is either Plutarch’s embellishment or a rhetorical ploy of Lucullus himself. Magie (1950) 2 p. 1211 n. 26 and previous note. App. Mith. 79; Plut. Luc. 15; Phlegon 12.3 (Jacoby 2B p. 1163); Cic. Mur. 33 with Sherwin-White (1984) p. 172; Magie (1950) 1 p. 334; app. 2; n. 44. Plut. Luc. 15; App. Mith. 80; Sall. Hist. 4.5M. In keeping with the spirit of the age Lucullus favoured lighter punishments, cf. Keaveney (1984a) pp. 357–63. App. Mith. 79–80; Plut. Luc. 15–17; Front. Strat. 2.5.30; Sall. Hist. 4.8M; Memnon 29.8 (Jacoby 3B p. 359). Because of the discrepancies in our main sources, Plutarch and Appian (for which see Holmes 1923 pp. 405–6), any reconstruction of events must be tentative. I see no reason to follow van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 92–3 in conflating their two battles and I would not attach a great deal of importance to the fact that they place the assassination attempt at different points in the sequence. It should be noted, though, that Appian was not altogether sure murder was being planned. Mithr idates’ cutting of supplies rests on Maurenbrecher’s interpretation of the Sallust fragment. For Sornatius’ route see Magie (1950) 2 p. 1212 n. 30. The chronology is established by Phlegon 12.3 (Jacoby 2B p. 1163) which, as Gelzer col. 391 saw, is supported by Plut. Luc. 33. It is further bolstered by Memnon 29.9 (Jacoby 3B p. 359): Strictly interpreted, Plutarch is telling us that the troops openly expressed discontent during a winter campaign at Cyzicus and Amisus. In the following winters they held their peace although they were no less annoyed. Plutarch’s own narrative supports this (see especially Luc. 7, 11, 14). Clearly, this does not rule out a second winter at Amisus where the troops remained angry but quiescent. See also app. 2. I would not, however, agree with Gelzer when he puts Sornatius’ expedition in 71. Lucullus would surely need supplies for winter. Phlegon may be curt but I have elected to follow him strictly in placing the expedition of Hadrianus alone in the spring of 71 although I admit the possibility that the battle in App. Mith. 80 might belong there too. Phlegon 12.3 (Jacoby 2B p. 1163); Plut. Luc. 17; App. Mith. 80–2; Memnon 29.9–30.1 (Jacoby 3B p. 359); Sall. Hist. 4.9–11M; Flor. 1.40.18; Eutrop. 6.8.3. Memnon’s account of the panic, which is favoured by Reinach (1895) p. 337 n. 1, differs from that of Appian and Plutarch in that it has Mithridates at Cabira when the rout began and in no way responsible for it, cf. Holmes (1923) p. 408 and Magie (1950) 2 p. 1212 n. 30. Plut. Luc. 18–19; Strabo 13.1.55, App. Mith. 82, Memnon 30.1–2 and 31.1 (Jacoby 3B pp. 359–60); Liv. Ep. 97; Eutrop. 6.8.4; Sall.

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50

51

52 53 54

55

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Hist. 4.12M. Pompeius: ch. IV. Pharnacia: van Ooteghem (1959) p. 98 n. 1; Scardigli (1989) p. 395 n. 227. Plut. Luc. 18–19; App. Mith. 82; Strabo 12.3.33; Hor. Ep. 2.2.26–40; Sall. Hist. 4.12M. Cf. Magie (1950) 2 p. 1213 n. 32 and Reinach (1895) p. 345. With regard to the latter note Appian’s For Appian and the coastal towns see below. Cf. the reports above (n. 39). Sulla did, of course, loot Athens but the point of the comparison is that when he ordered his troops not to destroy the city and, finally, to desist from their depredations he was obeyed, cf. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 88–9. In other words, when Sulla commanded he was, unlike Lucullus, obeyed. It was he who decided what the townsfolk should suffer. See further ch. IX. Plut. Luc. 19; Memnon 30.4 (Jacoby 3B p. 369); App. Mith. 83; Eutrop. 6.8.2; Sall. Hist. 4.13–15 M; Cic. Leg. Man. 21, cf. Magie (1950) 2 p. 1213 n. 33; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 103; SherwinWhite (1984) pp. 251–2; Swain (1990) p. 145 n.111. The principle that one just man could save Sodom may have helped Amisus. The returning refugees and the Athenian exiles must have been solidly anti-Mithridates from the first. Note that Sulla said their famous ancestors saved the Athenians, cf. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 88–9, and Appian also attributes a similar motive to Lucullus at Amisus. Memnon 32–5 (Jacoby 3B pp. 360–4). See n. 36 and ch. VI n. 23. of Memnon 33 following from a narrative (32) of The Cotta’s activities in 73 clearly puts Triarius’ victory at Tenedos in the same year despite Gelzer col. 393. His tardiness in going to Heraclea was due to business on Delos, cf. Mattingly (1980) pp. 1491–3. Memnon 35.7 and 36.1 (Jacoby 3B pp. 363–4). Sources: Plut. Luc. 23–4; App. Mith. 83–4; Liv. Ep. 98; Strabo 12.3.ii; Oros. 6.3.2–3; Cic. Leg. Man. 21; Memnon 37 (Jacoby 3B pp. 364– 5). Chronology: see n. 55. Contrary to what is usually thought (see n. 37), Machares only turns traitor now. Appian and Plutarch put the treachery after the siege, Memnon during. The reconstruction in my text assumes that Appian and Plutarch are recounting the reward for the services Memnon describes as being rendered. In settling the chronology the following data must be considered: (a) Memnon puts the fall of Heraclea in 71 and before that of Sinope. Appian puts the fall of Sinope after that of Amastris and Heraclea. (b) Amisus was captured in 71, see n. 44 above. (c) The evidence of Eutrop. 6.8.2–3 with regard to Amisus and Sinope is self-evidently wrong. Whatever chronology we adopt (see app. 2) the capture of Cabira must come before that of these other two towns. (d) Oros. 6.3.2–4 brackets the siege of Sinope with the campaigns of M.Lucullus in Thrace which finished in 71 (MRR 2.124). However, in (5)–(7) he speaks of Metellus’ activities in Sicily and the invasion of Armenia, belonging respectively to 70 and 69 (MRR

Notes

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57 58

59

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2.128, 133), as occurring eodem tempore as the siege of Sinope. Orosius can be precise about actual years when he wants—cf. e.g. 6.3.1, picking up with eodem anno 6.2.24, with app. 2 (iv)—so the vagueness here probably means eodem tempore extends over a longer period than a year. So possibly (2)–(7) might extend over the period 71–69 but one cannot positively assert this. (e) The Livian epitome does not mention the siege of Sinope but has the closely related (n. 54) reception of Machares among the events of 70, see app. 2 (iv). (f) Magie (1950) 2 p. 1215 n. 40 remarks that the order of capture, Sinope, Amisus is found in Cicero and Appian, cf. (a) above. However, I accept Gelzer’s view, col. 394, that no chronological significance can be attached to Cicero. For Appian see (g) and general conclusion. (g) The order of events in Appian is: capture of Sinope; capture of Amisus; Lucullus visits Asia. (h) The order of events in Plutarch is: capture of Amisus; Lucullus visits Asia; capture of Sinope. While certainty is impossible I would on the whole jettison the order of (g) in favour of (h). The latter dates the fall of Sinope after the return of the embassy of Appius in 70 (see ch. VI) and this receives some support from the Livian tradition of (d) and (e). All three—(d), (e) and (h)—agree better with reports of the town’s strength and its eventual reduction by starvation than does (g). Moreover, as Magie (1950) 2 p. 1213 n. 34 points out, the clear implication of Plut. Luc. 33 is that Lucullus’ troops were on active service in the winter of 71/70, and that could only be at Sinope or Amasia. The latter town, it should be noted, fell after Sinope (Memnon). See further nn. 58 and 59. Van Ooteghem (1959) p. 112 believes we have here a specimen of evocatio but I would not agree. Evocatio is an active thing performed by a Roman (Greenidge 1911 p. 57) while Lucullus here is passive. I do believe he is right though both in his essential point, that the god is deserting Sinope, and in that it may be compared with the scene in Plut. Alex. 24. See also n. 27 for another divine desertion. Plut. Luc. 23; App. Mith. 3. From Plut. Luc. 35–6; Dio 36.43.2, 46.1 we know the commission was in Pontus by 67 and may have been in Asia in 68, cf. Broughton (1946) pp. 40–2; MRR 2.131 n. 6; Scardigli (1989) p. 469 n. 470; and ch. VI n. 57. This timescale accords well with a fall of Sinope in 70 (n. 55) since we may assume Lucullus would not make his request until that was subdued. My chronology (n. 55) leads me to postulate that Lucullus spent part of the winter of 71/70 in the province of Asia, returned to Sinope and then once more went back to his province but, as will emerge from my narrative, a description and evaluation of his work can be made without reference to precise chronology. For another plausible reconstruction of his movements based on the same chronology see MRR 2.108.

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60 So Gelzer col. 394 pointing to Cic. Ad Fam. 5.4.2. Cf. Greenidge (1911) pp. 325–8. 61 Cf. Cimma (1976) pp. 180–3. 62 On the revenues of Asia and their application see Broughton (1938) pp. 562–78, cf. also pp. 525–30. Donative for Pompey: Plut. Luc. 37; App. Mith. 94. The Plutarchean context suggests to me booty was drawn on but see Scardigli (1989) p. 479 n. 508. 63 App. Mith. 83. See Rostovtzeff (1941) 3 p. 1563 n. 28 for Lucullus’ precedents and his imitators. So far as I am aware only Hill (1952) p. 157 saw that this revenue was destined for the treasury. See n. 69 below. 64 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 112–13 and ch. II. 65 App. Mith. 63 with Holmes (1923) pp. 395–6; Magie (1950) 1 pp. 250–2; Broughton (1938) pp. 518, 544–6. There has been controversy—cf. Rostovtzeff (1941) 3 pp. 1560 n. 17, 1567 n. 46 and Broughton p. 518—as to how Cic. Ad Quint. 1.1.34 is to be interpreted. It seems to me that vectigal refers to the fine Sulla imposed on all (aequaliter), cf. App. Mith. 62 and Keaveney (1983d) pp. 111–15. It would then follow Cicero is not saying the publicani provided machinery for the collection of the money but the actual money itself—a view which I think receives some support from App Mith. 63. Note, however, that such a machinery is attested elsewhere (n. 69). 66 Rostovtzeff (1941) 2 pp. 946, 953 suggests that Lucullus had not collected the full amount owed but this is contradicted by Plut. Luc. 20 who makes it clear that we are here dealing with a debt the cities owed to private individuals. 67 Plut. Luc. 20 with the comments of Magie (1950) 2 p. 1127 n. 46. Both here and in Luc. 7 Plutarch describes the activities of moneylenders and publicani so it is reasonable to believe, with Magie 1 p. 250, that some of the enormities were committed by the latter as they tried to extract the regular taxes from an impoverished province. 68 Memnon 27.4–7 and 29.3 (Jacoby 3B p. 355–6, 358). In (4) we read of Cotta’s despatch to Chalcedon. Then in (5) Heraclea grants privileges and gives ten ships to the Pontic fleet. (6) has the arrival of the publicani and their killing in the town. The battle of Chalcedon is narrated in (7) and in 29.3 the Mithridatic capture occurs after Cyzicus. About one point there must be unanimity: publicani will hardly have come to Heraclea just after Mithridates’ invasion of Asia. Reactions to the notice, however, vary. Reinach (1895) p. 318 n. 3 thought it was simply a mistake. Others propose violating the order of events as given by Memnon. Magie (1950) 1 p. 325 suggested putting the granting of market pr ivileges after the battle of Chalcedon. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 165 took the passage as proof that publicani were active in the province of Bithynia, newly created in 74, before the Mithridatic invasion. As they would need time to settle he argues that this is a pointer towards 73 as the starting-date of the Third Mithridatic War (app. 2). Again, self-evidently, this disturbs the order of Memnon’s narrative.

Notes

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I do not believe we need to tamper with our source. Memnon is describing the incident that gave rise to enmity between Rome and Heraclea for, self-evidently, the latter had broken their foedus. Then follows the consequence of this act, i.e. the introduction of the publicani. The Romans specifically point to the market privileges and the ships as their reason for doing this. Memnon tells us when this happened: at the time the Romans were also introducing publicani into other cities. A moment’s reflection on this statement shows that it does not necessarily follow that he thought this consequence happened immediately. He is simply telling what happened as a consequence without being very specific as to the time and, indeed, if it is nonsense actually to have that consequence follow on at once from the act itself, then it may be said that Memnon himself gives us a clue or two as to where it might be more plausibly placed. The Romans, as we saw, showed by the introduction of the publicani that they no longer regarded Heraclea as free. The townsfolk, for their part, saw that this was contrary to previous practice and deemed it the beginning of slavery. This suggests too that Memnon is thinking of what happened after the capture of the town by Cotta for it was only then, indeed, that it lost its liberty (Magie pp. 310–11, 415) and it was only then that the Romans, citing the wrong done, would be in a position to inflict the publicani on the place. Cf. Memnon 39 (Jacoby 3B pp. 366–7) where, among other things, the blame for defection is fixed on individuals. 69 Plut. Luc. 20. Some scholars (e.g. Gelzer col. 394) believe Appian’s tax of 25 per cent on crops (Mith. 83, cf. n. 63) is to be equated with Plutarch’s notice that creditors could not take more than 25 per cent of a debtor’s income. As Rostovtzeff (1941) 3 p. 1563 n. 28 pointed out, this is self-evidently impossible. Unlike Magie (1950) 2 p. 1128 n. 48 or van Ooteghem (1959) p. 108 I cannot accept his further contention that Appian’s tax was collected by the cities and used to pay the debt. It is very difficult to see why Lucullus should want to facilitate the moneylenders in this way. The fact that the amount borrowed had been paid twice over by 71 (see above) points to the publicani and their friends having an efficient collection service of their own. What was needed, therefore, was not new machinery but a reduction in the amount which might be extracted by the existing one. Moreover, there is, as I have tried to show, a more likely destination for this revenue (n. 63). In general, I feel we must resist the temptation to describe Appian’s tax as a relief measure. He quite baldly states that Lucullus imposed new taxes on a province already in debt.

VI CONFRONTING THE KING: THE WAR WITH TIGRANES 1 This is the eminently reasonable dating of the embassy given by Plut. Luc. 19. It would take a little while before Lucullus discovered whether Tigranes had received the fugitive or not. Memnon 31.1–2

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5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

13

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(Jacoby 3B p. 360) places the embassy after the fall of Amisus while App. Mith. 83 has it after the capture of Sinope. This last is far too late (see below). Two modern suggestions Magie (1950) 2 p. 1213 n. 34, that Appius was sent immediately after the capture of Cabira or during the winter of 71/70, receive no support from the sources. We have seen above why the first suggestion is unlikely and the route Appius took (Plut. Luc. 21) shows why the second should be ruled out. Cappadocia: Eckhardt (1909) pp. 404, 409. Both Gelzer col. 392 and Sherwin-White (1984) p. 173 compare this situation with that which prevailed between Bocchus and Marius in Numidia. But there is a difference: Bocchus was a kinglet who might be pressurized; Tigranes, as we shall see, was a monarch of a different order. Interestingly, even an envoy of Mithridates urged neutrality on Tigranes, with fatal consequences to himself when the king’s policy changed: Plut. Luc. 22; Strabo 13.1.55. Plut. Luc. 21; Memnon 31.2 (Jacoby 3B p. 360). Cf. Reinach (1895) pp. 343–4. Memnon 31.2–3 (Jacoby 3B p. 360). See Plut. Luc. 21 and Dio 36.52.3 with Magie (1950) 2 p. 1214 n. 37. A man could be hailed as imperator only once in a campaign (Keaveney 1982b p. 160) and as the great battle of Tigranocerta was not yet Lucullus had probably earned the title at Cyzicus. See also Bulletin Epigraphique (1970) p. 426 for inscriptional evidence for the title. Magie (1950) 1 pp. 338–9; Eckhardt (1909) pp. 403–10; Keaveney (1983d) p. 39. Plut. Luc. 23. See Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 173, 175–6. Plut. Luc. 21 with Magie (1950) 1 p. 339; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 175; Keaveney (1981b) pp. 202–9. Unless, of course, we assume that Lucullus had instructed Appius to use any means he saw fit to bring it home to Tigranes that the Romans were in deadly earnest. Cf. Eckhardt (1909) pp. 74–5. Plut. Luc. 19, 21, 23; App. Mith. 83; Memnon 31.2–3 (Jacoby 3B p. 360); Jos. Ant. 13.16.4; Bell. Jud. 1.5.3, with Villoresi (1939) p. 126; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 101; Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 174–5. Tigranes’ aggression: Plut. Luc. 23; Memnon 38.1 (Jacoby 3B p. 365). Interpretation: Magie (1950) 2 p. 1215 n. 4; McGing (1986) p. 153. See Sherwin-White (1984) p. 176; Reinach (1895) p. 351. Plut. Luc. 23; Memnon 38.1 (Jacoby 3B p. 365). McGing (1986) p. 154 prefers to follow Appian’s version of events (Mith. 85) which puts Mithridates’ admission to favour after Lucullus had actually attacked. This, I think, is to miss the point that once Rome had openly declared herself hostile Tigranes and Mithridates would share a common cause. It also rests on what I believe to be a mistaken view of how Tigranes would react to a direct threat and it fails to explain away the ancient evidence (see n. 10) for aggressive intent on his part. Plut. Luc. 24–5; App. Mith. 84; Eutrop. 6.9.1; Memnon 38.2 (Jacoby 3B p. 365); Strabo 12.2.1; Sall. Hist. 4.59–60 M. See Reinach (1895)

Notes

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235

pp. 354–5; Eckhardt (1909) p. 82; Villoresi (1939) pp. 126–7; Scardigli (1989) p. 422 n. 314; Coarelli (1987) p. 179 who also equates Diana with Artemis Tauropolis. Scardigli p. 424 n. 321 expresses doubt about these stories of Tigranes’ unpreparedness. McGing (1986) pp. 152–3 attributes it to a mistaken reading of Lucullus’ intentions by the king. I would only claim for my view that it has, at least, the virtue of integrating all the source-material instead of trying to explain some of it away. Plut. Luc. 24; App. Mith. 84. See Eckhardt (1909) pp. 74–5 and Sherwin-White (1984) p. 178 who is less sure of Lucullus’ intentions than I am. See Syme (1988) pp. 245–51. Plut. Luc. 24–5; App. Mith. 84; Liv. Ep. 98. See Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 177–8. Sources: Plut. Luc. 26–7, 29; App. Mith. 84–5; Dio 36.1b–3; Memnon 38.2–4 (Jacoby 3B pp. 365–6); Sall. Hist. 4.61–3M. On naphtha see van Ooteghem (1959) p. 124 n. 1 and on the numbers in both armies Eckhardt (1909) pp. 77–82, 97–9. Memnon has Lucullus attacking other towns in the vicinity but as van Ooteghem p. 123 n. 2 justly observes, he is unlikely to have dissipated his small forces in this way. The mistaken belief that Lucullus was attacking towns may have led Memnon to describe the place Appian’s description of where the concubines were lodged as a it as a fort seems more likely. See Villoresi (1939) p. 140 n. 1. Appian attributes the whole conduct of the siege to Sextilius; Plutarch gives it first to Lucullus and then Murena. If report of Sextilius’ earlier activities is correct (see above), it is likely Lucullus himself conducted operations until Tigranes arrived. Without any great conviction I follow Plutarch in suggesting Murena then took over, if only because he seems to have had a talent for this kind of thing (see ch. V). It may be noted that App. Mith. 85 should not be taken to indicate the kind of division of forces we saw earlier depicted in Memnon but rather refers to the scene in Plut. Luc. 21—allowing for the fact that the latter omits the incident of the concubines. Sources: Oros. 6.3.6–7; Plut. Luc. 27–8; App. Mith. 85; Eutrop. 6.9.1; Liv. Ep. 98; Front. Strat. 2.1.14, 2.4; Memnon 38.5 (Jacoby 3B p. 366); Phlegon 12.10 (Jacoby 2B p. 1164). See Holmes (1923) p. 422 and Reinach (1895) p. 359. No ancient source says why Lucullus elected to fight on an unlucky day. From the useful discussion of Rosenstein (1990) pp. 81–2 I have extracted and inserted in my text the explanation best in harmony with his religious beliefs (see further ch. IX). For an attempt to estimate casualties see Eckhardt (1909) pp. 110–11. The initial cavalry attack mentioned by Appian is probably to be equated with the attack of the Gallic and Thracian cavalry we find in Plutarch despite the seeming difference in detail. Appian narrates the outcome but Plutarch ignores it. Only Appian mentions that Lucullus in his descent of the hill first encountered baggage and infantry. The flank attack by the Roman infantry is found in both

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20 21 22 23 24 25

26 27 28

29 30 31

Notes

Plutarch and Frontinus. Appian alone mentions the cavalry rout in the plain. All conclude with the general panic but only Memnon succinctly describes its manner of spreading. Plut. Luc. 29; App. Mith. 86; Strabo 11.14.1, 12.2.9; Dio 36.2.3; Memnon 38.6 (Jacoby 3B p. 366). See Eckhardt (1909) pp. 111–12; Magie (1950) 1 pp. 331–7. There are differing accounts in the sources as to who betrayed the city, cf. van Ooteghem (1959) p. 132 n. 3. I follow Appian and Plutarch who are in agreement. For Tigranocerta’s later history see van Ooteghem p. 133 and Syme (1988) p. 244. Plut. Luc, 28. App. Mith. 87; Plut. Luc. 29; Dio 36.1.1; Memnon 38.7 (Jacoby 3B p. 366). See Eckhardt (1909) pp. 195–7. Plut. Luc. 29; Dio 36.2.3–5; Sall. Hist. 4.72M; App. Syr. 49; Justin 40.2.2. See Sherwin-White (1984) p. 179. Magie (1950) 2 p. 1215 n. 39. Cf. ch. V n. 51. Cic. Leg. Man. 22—the conceit is defended rather shamefacedly by Schol. Gron. pp. 318–19 St. See ch. V. Vell. Pat. 2.33.1. In modern times the view is found, for instance, in Villoresi (1939) p. 188 and even more recently in Hopkins (1983) p. 241. I cannot agree with him that Val. Max. 7.9.1 depicts Lucullus as a legacy hunter since 9.1–5 deals not with captatio but unexpected legacies. It should be further noted that Caecilius there is depicted as owing his position to Lucullus. Like Hopkins, I wonder about the role of the people. See van Ooteghem (1959) p. 152 and ch. VIII. See, for example, van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 117–18 and SherwinWhite (1984) pp. 174–5. See ch. V. Sall. Hist. 4.70M; Dio 36.2.1; Cic. Leg. Man. 23 with Villoresi (1939) p. 148 n. 4 for speculation on the location of the temple; Plut. Luc. 24, 33. For a slightly different interpretation of this evidence see Sherwin-White (1984) p. 175. Villoresi pp. 148–9 thinks the claim of temple-robbing or ig inated with Mithr idates. This is not implausible but it seems to have been taken up by Lucullus’ domestic enemies. Cicero calls it an opinio but self-evidently he is exploiting something well known at the time in Rome. Cic. Leg. Man. 4, 39. This theme is found in Cic. Leg. Man. 26 but it is reasonable to suppose it surfaced earlier. See Sherwin-White (1984) p. 186 and Seager (1979) p. 34. Asia: Dio 36.2.1–2. As Dio places this after Tigranocerta, 68—it seems to me—is as likely a date as the more usual 69 (MRR 2.133). Hostility to Lucullus, publicani, tribunes: Plut. Luc. 20, 24, 33. Venality of the age: Seager (1979) p. 30 and (on ambitus) Lintott (1990). Plutarch’s ‘demagogues’ obviously covers more than tribunes, see Thommen (1989) p. 107 and next note. Dio talks of ‘citizens and others’ and this, I think, tells against the theory of Gelzer (1959) p. 70 that Asia and Cilicia were taken from Lucullus by the senate. ‘The others’ are probably publicani and individual senators. The most recent

Notes

32 33

34 35 36

37

38

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discussion of the governors of Asia immediately post Lucullus, is Broughton (1990). Brunt’s attempt to minimize the part the publicani played in Lucullus’ downfall—(1988) pp. 152, 188, 516—is misconceived. He fails to recognize that it was they who gave the initial impulse to a wave that others were soon to ride. See below. Plut. Luc. 33; Sal. Hist. 4.71M; cf. Schol. Gron. p. 321 St. See Seager (1979) p. 30 and Gruen (1974) pp. 134–5. On all of this see Keaveney (1981b) pp. 195–204. To the bibliography there add Bulin (1983) pp. 44–8, 81–5; Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 180–1, 218–21, and Dabrowa (1983) pp. 21–5 who thinks the Parthian king was Sinatruces and doubts if a treaty was actually concluded with Rome. For a discussion of Sall. Ep. Mith. see McGing (1986) pp. 154–62. Whether or not it derives from a genuine letter of Mithridates, I would agree with Sherwin-White (1984) p. 181 that the arguments there deployed would hardly have weighed as much with the Parthians as the territorial inducement mentioned by our other sources. Plut. Luc. 30–1; Dio 36.4.2. See Reinach (1895) p. 364; Magie (1950) 2 p. 1217 n. 48; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 182; Bulin (1983) pp. 86–8; Eckhardt (1909) pp. 208–13. App. Mith. 87; Plut. Luc. 31; Dio 36.5.1–2. Appian and Plutarch give selective details of the campaign, Dio its general characteristics. See Eckhardt (1909) pp. 213–14. Plut. Luc. 31. Sall. Hist. 4.74M probably refers to the arrival of Lucullus while 75M relates the defeat of Tigranes’ cavalry. Unlike van Ooteghem (1959) p. 143 and Gelzer col. 401 I do not think Dio 36.5.2 belongs here since it bears no resemblance to anything in Plutarch’s account. Since it looks like the skirmishing tactics of Mithridates I have assigned it to that place (see n. 35 above). It would appear that Appian and Dio both neglect to mention this battle. The story that Mithridates was present is universally rejected, cf. e.g. Gelzer col. 401. Plut. Luc. 32; Dio 36.6.1. Magie (1950) 2 p. 1218 n. 49 objects to Plutarch’s description of the weather on the grounds that it is too early by far in the year for such conditions but he appears to have overlooked the fact that it is described as unexpected. Lucullus was unlucky, campaigning in a year of freak conditions (cf. n. 34). Sherwin-White (1984) p. 182 n. 89 says App. Mith. 87 confirms Plutarch’s story but the winter mentioned there is that which put an end to the year’s fighting, not the Artaxata campaign. Despite Sherwin-White p. 184 n. 95 it seems that Appian believes all the events of Mith. 88–9 fell in 67. See further n. 40. Sources: Plut. Luc. 32; Dio 36.6–7; Sall. Hist. 4.79–80M; Eutrop. 6.9.1; Oros. 6.3.7. Dio is probably using ‘summer’ in a ‘Thucydidean’ or ‘Appianic’ sense, cf. Eckhardt (1909) p. 217; Holmes (1923) p. 425 and app. 2. Plutarch says Lucullus wintered in Gordyene. This is probably an error—so Magie (1950) 2 p. 1218 n. 50—although it would seem to accord with a theory of Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 182–3. He

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points out that Eutrop. 6.9.2 (and we may add Fest. Brev. 15) put the notice of Lucullus’ intended attack on Parthia here (compare n. 33). Behind this Sherwin-White sees a possible reference to a plan to march from Gordyene into Adiabene in early 67. He therefore proposes moving the notice of troop movements in Plut. Luc. 30 to this point and claims Dio 36.10.1 offers support for this. Such transportation is, of course, hazardous in itself and it may be further pointed out that if Eutropius and Festus have produced a distortion of Lucullus’ intentions at their place then Plutarch could also have done so at this and he may thus be referring to the Armenian campaign of Luc. 31. Certainly there is no real reason for supposing that the period after the hard and allegedly unrewarding campaign of 68 was a more likely time for the discontent Plutarch describes than 69 or the spring of 68. The latter year, as we saw, actually culminated in the seizure of even more treasure. Dio 36.8; App. Mith. 88. Identification of Fannius, see e.g. MRR 2. 140. In view of what Fannius had done one wonders how he got a pardon. Possibly he was a beneficiary of the Lex Plautia de reditu Lepidanorum, for which see MRR 2.128 and Gruen (1974) p. 37. Nothing save Plut. Luc. 32, which will admit of other interpretations (cf. n. 38), offers any support to the view of MRR and van Ooteghem (1959) p. 147 that Fannius was operating in Gordyene. Dio. 36.9–11; App. Mith. 88. On the surface Plut. Luc. 34 seems to imply Lucullus was planning a winter campaign. A careful reading of this passage in conjunction with Luc. 35 clearly shows that the spring of 67 is meant and that the ‘winter’ is a soldier’s excuse. See further n. 46. Appian has Triarius marching from Asia, which cannot be literally true (see above). I therefore have him start from his last known address (cf. ch. V). See further n. 43. Against Sherwin-White (1984) p. 184, I think Dio 36.12.1 shows Triarius wintered at Gaziura, not Cabira. Cic. Leg. Man. 23–4. Cf. Williams (1984) p. 231. MRR 2.144–5. Cic. Leg, Man. 26, Sest. 93; Sall. Hist. 5.13M; Dio 36.2.2, 14.4, 15.3, 17.1; Plut. Luc. 33, 35. Only Cic. Leg. Man. 5 speaks of a change of command as opposed to a loss of territory. Appian Mith. 90 calls the province ‘Asia’. Gelzer col. 404 believes this to be an error but in view of n. 40 it looks as if he might have thought of Bithynia as part of Asia. On the basis of Cic. Leg. Man. 26 Gelzer col. 405 believes Lucullus handed over his troops to Glabrio but this is contradicted by Plut. Luc. 35. See Villoresi (1939) p. 170 n. 5 and further below. On Gabinius’ background see Sanford (1939) pp. 68–72 and Badian (1959) and on his role here n. 44. Glabrio: ch. III; Hayne (1974); Williams (1984) pp. 232–3. The latter’s attempt (p. 228) to salvage something of his military reputation is not convincing. I follow Seager (1979) p. 32. Different views will be found in, e.g., Williams (1984) and Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 187–8. Cic. Leg. Man. passim and especially 51–3, 59; Dio 36.31.3, 42.4, 43.1; Plut. Pomp. 30, Luc. 35; Asc. 60, 65C; Liv. Ep. 100; Vell. Pat.

Notes

46

47 48

49 50 51 52 53

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2.33.1; App. Mith. 97; Val. Max. 8.15.9 with Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 188–90 and Seager (1979) pp. 32–5, 39–43. See also Watkins (1987). For the friends of Lucullus see Scardigli (1989) pp. 285–6 and Meier (1966) p. 85 n. 131. If Glabrio had Pompeian affiliations as Gruen (1974) p. 131 thinks then Hortensius’ defence acquires an added piquancy. The theme of the venality of the age (n. 31) crops up in both the case of Gabinius and Manilius, see Cic. Post Red. in Sen. 11 and Vell. Pat. 2.33.1. Plutarch is probably speaking loosely when he says Pompey was granted the territory and the forces under Lucullus, just as Velleius is speaking exactly when he says he took over a war directed by Lucullus. See below. Plut. Luc. 33–5; Cic. Har. Resp. 42; Dio 36.14; Sall. Hist. 5.11, 12M. Dating: n. 40. Seager (1979) p. 31 n. 31 points out that Clodius was lying about Pompey’s grants. A number of scholars, e.g. Seager (1979) p. 32, Magie (1950) 2 p. 1218 n. 52, Gelzer col. 403, all believe that Dio 36.14.4 refers to this incident but I believe that a careful reading of 36.14 in its entirety will show that two sets of disturbances are in question and that that in 4 is the one after Zela (see below). At any rate the appointment of Rex would, in my view, be a sufficient explanation for what was going on now especially if there is any truth in the report (Luc. 33) that some troops were to be discharged at this time though this detail might, one supposes, be a doublet of the discharges upon Glabrio’s appointment (see above). Mulroy (1985) pp. 155–65 consistently places the campaign of 68 in 69 and thus Clodius’ treachery in the winter of 69/68. No reason is given for the re-dating and I can find none. Further, it seems to me that Mulroy fails of his main purpose: to rehabilitate Clodius. His case largely seems to rest on arbitrarily labelling sections of our evidence as fiction. In place of the source-material thus removed we are given unfounded, albeit often ingenious, hypothesis (see especially pp. 164–5 where the threatening military situation is ignored). Curiously few modern historians emphasize this point. Plut. Luc. 35; App. Mith. 89; Dio 36.12. Liv. Ep. 98 with Gelzer cols 403–4; Magie (1950) 2 pp. 1218–19 nn. 52, 54; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 184. Most moder n scholars reject the statement of Plutarch and Appian that Triar ius gave battle in the hope of defeating Mithridates before Lucullus came since it is plainly at variance with his call for help. Sources for what follows: App. Mith. 90; Plut. Luc. 35–6; Dio 36.14– 15, 17, 43.2, 46.1; Sall. Hist. 5.13–14M; Cic. Leg. Man. 5, 26, Ad. Att. 13.6.4. Individual problems arising are discussed in nn. 50–7. The sources indicate that Rex and Glabrio reached the east about the same time but that this incident occurred before Glabrio communicated with Lucullus (see below). See ch. III. Sherwin-White (1984) p. 187 and Keaveney (1983d) p. 171. Mulroy (1985) pp. 162–3 in support of his thesis (n. 46) emphasizes that Clodius was never brought to book but it may be added that

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58 59 60 61 62

63

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nobody else, in a notoriously mutinous army, seems to have been called to account either. From a military viewpoint this verged on lunacy but App. Mith. 90 and Cic. Leg. Man. 26 would seem to indicate this was exactly what Glabrio envisaged. Van Ooteghem (1959) p. 158 n. 2; Gelzer cols 404–5. Despite Scardigli (1989) p. 468 n. 466 we can see from Sall. Jug. 86.5 that he was not obliged to hand over command in person. His imperium would not expire until he reached Rome and, as events show, people seem to have overlooked his illegal behaviour and tacitly accepted his right to exercise it, cf. Broughton (1946) p. 41 and further below. On the position of the Fimbrians, which is misunderstood by Brunt (1988), p. 268 see also ch. V n. 1. Presumably they enlisted in 86 (MRR 2.53) and they are now being discharged by the Lex Gabinia. These circumstances led Parker (1958) pp. 24–5 to suggest that twenty years was the maximum term the republican legionary had to serve. However, our sources (n. 49) contradict this. Taken together, they present a clear, logical and consistent picture. When Lucullus is dismissed his command, the Valerians, by the law receive their discharge and they make it plain why this is so. Lucullus has ceased to be a lawful commander and the time they have promised to remain with him is up. In other words, the Valerians had enlisted solely for the duration of Lucullus’ Mithridatic command and that is now over. The stipendium that Cic. Leg. Man. 26 refers to is, therefore, this period. On these matters Smith (1958) pp. 29–43 is to be preferred to his (1960) p. 13 n. 72, although his belief—(1958) p. 37 n. 1—that the Fimbrians had property in Italy must be treated with reserve. Mulroy (1985) p. 164 correctly grasps the position of the Fimbrians but draws from it conclusions I hold to be untenable. See ch. V.Scardigli (1989) p. 469 n. 470 suggests they may have been in the province of Asia since the winter of 68. Cicero (Ad. Att. 13.6.4) does not specify which Murena he means but to equate him with Lucullus’ legate creates, in my opinion, more problems than it solves, cf. MRR 2.131 n. 6. As necessarii do not always have to mean relations and as there is no other evidence we may doubt the view of, e.g. Shackleton Bailey (1965) ad loc., that Murena and Lucullus were actually related. It is easy to envisage that in the good old days amici would be barred as well as relatives from such service. So, e.g. Villoresi (1939) p. 168 after Ferrero. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 88–9. Plut. Luc. 33. Plut. Luc. 33, 36. Cf. Scardigli (1989) pp. 272–3. Plut. Luc. 35, 36, with Scardigli (1989) pp. 470 n. 472, 472 nn. 477– 8, 474 n. 485; Pomp. 31, 32, 38; Strabo 12.3.33, 5.2; Vell. Pat. 2.33.2–4; Dio 36.46. I suspect Epstein (1987) pp. 83–4 may underestimate the capacity of the Romans for hypocrisy and I believe Wylie (1990) pp. 447–8 misunderstands the whole position. On the courts see Gruen (1974) pp. 28–35.

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VII THE LIFE OF A SPONGE? 1 For Memmius see RE ‘Memmius’ no. 8. Judgements are from Gruen (1974) p. 168 and Shackleton Bailey (1965) p. 331. Van Ooteghem (1959) p. 161 confuses him with his cousin who was killed in Spain in 75—see MRR 2.98 and Gruen (1969) p. 76—and wrongly states he had been Lucullus’ quaestor. 2 Marcus: MRR 2.625, 3.204. Lucius augur: ILS 60. 3 Plut. Luc. 37. The nature of the charge is not attested but in view of Marcus’ duties, cf. Keaveney (1984a) p. 119, Scardigli (1989) p. 476 n. 497 is surely right to suggest sacrilege. I add what I believe to have been another likely one. Note that Plut. Sulla 22 does not support Scardigli’s contention that Marcus served under Sulla in the Social War. Nor does Plut. Luc. 37 refer to a pro-praetorship in Cisalpine Gaul as van Ooteghem (1959) p. 162 thought. This propraetorship may not exist; see Keaveney p. 121 n. 54. 4 For these points see Gruen (1971) pp. 56–8. 5 Suet. Gramm. 14; Val. Max. 6.1.13. See Epstein (1987) p. 125 and Gruen (1974) p. 15. 6 Cic. Ad Att. 1.18.3 with Shackleton Bailey whose explanation (after Ernesti’s) of the enigmatic passage I accept. The sexual context, rather than the alleged time-lapse, I feel, tells against the alternative explanation that Cicero is speaking of Lucullus’ tr iumph (see below). 7 Asc. 28C; Plut. Luc. 4, Pomp. 44. Cf. Sumner (1973) pp. 186–8 and Twyman (1972) p. 846. I do not see why Shackleton Bailey (n. 6) thinks the quarrel might have arisen from this connection nor why Epstein (1987) p. 60 seems to use the divorces as evidence for enmity in 66. On Lucullus’ wives see below. 8 Plut. Cat. Min. 29. For the chronological problems this passage poses see n. 11. 9 Contra Villoresi (1939) p. 177 and Gruen (1969) pp. 76–7, (1974) p. 266. 10 Plut. Luc. 1. See Gruen (1968) pp. 7–8. 11 This note attempts to justify a reconstruction of events which, given the state of our sources, can only be tentative and differs in some respects from Gruen (1971) p. 58. Save on one point, Plut. Luc. 37 is clear, logical, consistent and credible. The senate had plainly sought a plebiscitum (Greenidge 1911 p. 158). Memmius persuaded the people not to grant it and we can reasonably infer from the text that he claimed Lucullus committed peculatus and violated the laws for a bellum justum (Greenidge p. 56) but there is nothing there to suggest a formal charge, a point on which the fragments of his speech (ORF3 p. 402) are uninformative. Where Plutarch errs is in saying Lucullus’ triumph came in 66 when we know from Cic. Acad. 2.3 that 63 is the correct date. This latter detail thus invalidates Plut. Cat. Min. 29 which shows Cato (trib. pleb. 62) bringing about the triumph and must cast doubt on the other statement there to the effect that Memmius laid formal

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charges. Note carefully that Memmius did not act alone (Cic. Acad. 2.3—compare Sall. Cat. 30.3) and thus his friends would have continued the resistance when he left office. Cato, at some time, could have worked on Lucullus’ behalf (see my text) but the timing of Plut. Cat. Min. 29 suggests to some that this is really an effort on behalf of Metellus Creticus—see MRR 2.165 n. 5, 3.170–1 but compare Fehrle (1983) pp. 73–6, 84 n. 3. On the political background see Gruen (1974) pp. 131–2; Seager (1969), (1979) pp. 56–71. Note that while Vell. Pat. 2.34.2 brackets the triumphs of Lucullus and Metellus as a blow to Pompey, Sall. Cat. 30.3 brackets Metellus and Rex as victims of the intrigues of a few men who sold everything. This last, of course, offers no clue as to why Rex was refused a triumph. Different men from different motives may apply the same effective methods to different victims. We simply do not know who was bought, and equality of misery cannot tell us why it was imposed in the first place. See further Seager (1979) pp. 38–40. Taylor (1949) pp. 22, 23, 125–6, 167–9; Fehrle (1983) pp. 83–5; Seager (1979) pp. 70–1; Gruen (1974) p. 54; MRR 3.170–1 (date of quaestorship). Main sources: Plut. Luc. 34, 38, Cic. 29; Cic. Pro Mil. 73. Clodius’ incest with varying numbers of sisters receives abundant testimony: Cic. Har. Resp. 38, 42, 59, Pis. 29, Dom. 92, Ad Fam. 1.9.15; Plut. Cic. 29, Caes. 10. For popular wit see, e.g., Plut. Sulla 6, Suet. Div. Jul. 49–51. Wiseman (1969) p. 55 n. 4 believes Clodius also buggered his brothers but this entrancing notion finds no support in the sources. Wiseman also seems to suggest the scandal was not revealed until Clodius’ trial in 61 (see below) but a moment’s reflection will show this to be unlikely. When a prominent man divorced his wife Rome must have pullulated with rumours and Wiseman himself concedes that Clodius had a bad name from his youth up. In this context Cic. Pro Cael. 36 should be read in conjunction with Plut. Cat. Min. 19. The latter passage gives us a terminus post quem for the affair and leads one to wonder if Cato did not cast back at Clodius the charge of incestum he had levelled at the Vestal. Cf. ch. IV and app. 2. Plut. Luc. 38, Cat. Min. 24, 29, 54 with Wiseman (1974) p. 113, 184–5; RE ‘Servilia’ no. 29; Hallett (1984) pp. 51, 170–1. Cf. Plut. Cat. Min. 30. IG III 3 no. 4233 with Wiseman (1974) pp. 113–14, 180 and Hallett (1984) p. 100 n. 43. Assuming the inscription is correctly dated and that Licinia was not a child-bride, then the conclusion that Clodia was her mother is inescapable. Since nobody has suggested Clodius might have been her real father I shall not do so either. The length of time Clodia and Lucullus lived together—circa mid-76 to circa mid-74 (cf. ch.III)—tells against (but not decisively) Wiseman’s theory that Clodia also had a son. See further n. 16. Sources and discussion in Hinard (1985) pp. 528–31, repeated virtually verbatim in (1990), who separates Lucullus jun. from his

Notes

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19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

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cousin. Taking my cue from this I base my reconstruction on the following assumptions: (a) Lucullus and Servilia married towards the end of 66 and their divorce was probably about 58. Cf. n. 18 and ch. VIII. (b) Not to have reached his majority in 49 meant that Lucullus jun. was 15 at the very oldest then. (c) To have reached majority in 44 must mean that he was 16 at the youngest. (d) For evidence Lucullus jun. might have survived the Civil War see Wiseman (1974) p. 113 and ch. VIII. Since Lucullus’ arch-foe Memmius was probably one of them (n. 6) the degree of self-restraint must have been considerable. Sources: n. 14. Scardigli (1989) p. 480 n. 514 believes Cic. Ad Att. 1.18.3 refers to the divorce but this is by no means certain (n. 6) and in view of Plut. Luc. 38 may, anyway, be too early. I cannot follow Dixon (1983) pp. 102–3 who places an exclusively political emphasis on the mar r iage and the divorce. For instance, the equation drawn between the marriage and the obtaining of the triumph is insecure (n. 11) and in view of the opening of Luc. 38 I would hesitate to call Gelzer’s expression of sympathy for Lucullus (cols. 410–11) ‘anachronistic’ and ‘misplaced’. MRR 2.169; Rawson (1983) pp. 44–59, 69; Seager (1979) pp. 56–62; Taylor (1949) p. 118. ILS 560. Triumph: Plut. Luc. 37; Cic. Pro Mur. 37, 69 with other sources in MRR 2.169, although the word seni in Pliny NH 28.56 probably means somebody else’s triumph other than Lucullus’ is in question. Route: Butler and Cary (1966) p. 91. The Capitol: Liv. 45.13; Val. Max. 2.8.6 with Keaveney (1982b) pp. 163–4. Hercules: Keaveney (1979) p. 67. polluctum: Plut. Luc. 37; Diod. Sic. 4.21.4; Pliny NH 14.96 with van Ooteghem (1959) p. 164 n. 1. Modern estimates of Lucullus’ booty: Shatzman (1975) pp. 378–9; Broughton (1938) pp. 529–30; Frank (1933) pp. 324–5. Pliny NH 34.93 with Jex-Blake and Sellers (1896) p. 79. Van Ooteghem (1959) p. 165 suggests the temple of Hercules in Dio 43.21.1 but this is probably the temple of Felicitas built by L.Lucullus (cos. 150), cf. Platner/Ashby p. 207. Coarelli (1987) pp. 155–7, 178–80 with the important qualificatory remarks of Wiseman, Gnomon (1989) pp. 278–9. Keaveney (1983d) pp. 190–1. Cic. Pro Mur. 37–9, 53, 69, Ad Att. 13.6.4. See Gruen (1974) pp. 129–30 and Rawson (1983) pp. 69–71. Taylor (1949) p. 126. A convenient and concise narrative of the Catilinarian conspiracy will be found in Holmes (1923) pp. 253–83 but note that more recent scholarship, e.g. Seager (1979) p. 66, questions some of the features of the traditional account. Plut. Cat. Min. 21, Cic. 14; Cic. Pro Mur. (especially 13, 20, 31, 51) with Gruen (1974) pp. 129–30, 273; Rawson (1983) pp. 77–8; Ward

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33 34 35

36

37

38

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(1977b) pp. 187–91 who points out the trial is to be dated after 8th November but before 3rd December. Cic. Ad Att. 12.21.1 with Shackleton Bailey (1965) ad loc., Phil. 2.12, Acad. 2.3, 62. See Rawson (1983) pp. 79–85. Cic. Pro Arch, with Reid (1899) pp. 10, 11–14. See van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 171–2 for a selection of views on the significance of the affair. For Lucullus’ role see Cic. Ad Att. 1.13.3, 14.1–5, 16.1–5, Pro Mil 73; Plut. Cic. 29; Dio 37.46.2 who seems to think Lucullus’ charges formed part of the indictment. On the whole affair see Rawson (1983) pp. 93–8; Gruen (1974) pp. 248–9, 273–5 and for Caesar see Gelzer (1968) pp. 59–60. Mulroy (1985) pp. 165–78 thinks Clodius accidentally blundered into the wrong party. Clodius’ power-base among the people is well treated in Benner. The harsh criticisms of this work by Briscoe, Gnomon (1988) pp. 659–61, rest partly, so their author claims, on ‘a desire for brevity’ which ‘led to unclear forms of expression’, cf. Gnomon (1989) p. 575. Seager (1979) pp. 46–55; Keaveney (1981b) pp. 202–12; Reinach (1895) pp. 389–410. Seager (1979) pp. 72–9; Taylor (1949) pp. 130, 226 n. 45. Cic. Ad Att. 1.18.6 places Flavius’ bill before 20th January 60. Plut. Luc. 42, Cat. Min. 31 notice the request of Pompey before the bill but Dio 37.49.1–2 reverses the order. The question of precedence is probably of little moment. See Seager (1979) p. 79 and Keaveney (1987) p. 88 on the necessity to placate the plebs. See Seager (1979) pp. 73–9; Broughton (1946) pp. 42–3. I accept Ward’s arguments, (1977b) pp. 203–5, for Crassus’ presence but not his dating of the incident to 61, cf. Dio 37.49.1–3. Wiseman (1974) pp. 184–5 seems to think Cato might have had personal motivation too. Dio 37.49–50.1, I believe, gives a more accurate account of what Lucullus proposed than Plut. Luc. 42, Cat. 31, Pomp. 46 which tend to abbreviate and simplify but not, it must be admitted, as much as Vell. Pat. 2.40.5 does. See Seager (1979) pp. 77, 79. Dio 37.50.1–4; Plut. Luc. 42, Cat. 31; Cic. Ad Att. 1.18.6, 19.4, 2.1.6, 8; Vell. Pat. 2.40.5. Once more (see n. 37) Plutarch’s narrative is abbreviated (cf. MRR 2.183) and indeed contradictory (as to who led the attack on the bill) so I reject it in favour of Dio. That Metellus Creticus took part in these events cannot be doubted but I suspect Velleius may have exaggerated his role. See also Gelzer (1968) pp. 66–7. Plut. Luc. 39, Mor. 792B. See further next chapter.

VIII ‘…RETIRED LEISURE/THAT IN TRIM GARDENS TAKES HIS PLEASURE’ 1 Plut. Luc. 38 (cf. 42) with Rawson (1983) p. 90; Taylor (1949) pp. 124–7; Dillon (1977) p. 75. In general, on the position of the defeated commander see now Rosenstein who recognizes that Lucullus did not retire at this point (cf. below). On Lucullan property see Coarelli (1987) pp. 19, 66.

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2 Cic. Ad Att. 1.1.3–4, Pro Arch. 13; Nepos Att. 5.1; Sall. Cat. 4; Val. Max. 7.9.1 with Shackleton Bailey (1965) pp. 5–6; Shatzman pp. 63–7, 379–81 whose views of Cic. Leg. Man. 37 and Pro Flacc. 85 I accept. Cf. ch. I n. 26. 3 Cic. Sest. 93; Pliny NH 36.49; Isid. 16.5.17 with van Ooteghem (1959) p. 180 n. 6; McCracken (1942) p. 325; and ch. VI. 4 Pliny NH 18.32; Col. RR 1.6. Cf. Baltrusch (1988) pp. 16–27 and McCracken (1942) p. 325. 5 Varro RR 3.4.2–3, cf. 5.8. The treatment is a bit pedantic and heavy-handed. Varro says there were two types of aviary, those kept for pleasure and those kept for profit. Lucullus’ is described as being of a third type that combined both functions. 6 See, for instance, The Brewer Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. The passage from Th. Gautier quoted by van Ooteghem (1959) p. 193 is probably still representative of the contemporary view of these dinners. I make a plea for a more reasoned approach in CR 1990 (review of Baltrusch 1988). 7 Meals: Plut. Luc. 40, Comp. Luc./Cim. 1. Hor. Ep. 1.6.40–6 on cloaks is a variant of Plut. Luc. 39, cf. Scardigli (1989) p. 486 nn. 533, 534. Cherries: Pliny NH 15.102; Tert. Apol. 11.8; Servius ad Georg. 2.18; Athen. 2.50F–51A with van Ooteghem (1959) p. 194 n. 4 and RE Band 11 col. 509–15. On Roman meals see Balsdon (1969) pp. 32– 53. I suspect that something like the pastry eggs of Satyricon 33 figured on Lucullus’ menu. To keep matters in perspective as regards the recitations see Pliny Ep. 1.15. 8 Pliny NH 28.56; Plut. Luc. 41. Note the remarks of Scardigli (1989) p. 489 n. 543. Observe, too, that the forum is hardly the place for a rotting sponge, cf. ch. VII and further below. 9 Plut. Luc. 42; Isid. 6.5.1; Cic. Fin. 3.1–8. See Rawson (1985) pp. 194–5. 10 Pliny NH 34.36, 35.125, 155–6, 36.41; Plut. Luc. 23, 39; Strabo 12.3.11; De Vir. Ill 74; Cic. De Leg. 3.30–1; Varro RR 1.2.10. See Petrochilos (1974) pp. 77–81 and Rawson (1985) p. 195. The date of 88/87 for the purchase of the Wreath Girl favoured by the Loeb edition of Pliny and Jex-Blake and Sellers pp. 150–3 seems unlikely in view of the war situation (see ch. II). For the Athenian connection see also ch. VII. That it was Lucullus’ son and not himself who commissioned the statue of Felicitas is argued by Jex-Blake and Sellers pp. 179–80 on the grounds that, as Arcesilaus was still alive in 46, he would not have ‘left an order of his patron unattended for fifteen years’. This is self-evidently not decisive since such a thing could obviously happen. From a passage such as NH 35.125 it seems, in fact, legitimate to infer that Lucullus himself is also meant here. 11 Plut. Luc. 39. The exact location of the villa is disputed; see van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 181–2 and McCracken (1942) pp. 327–40. For Frontinus’ statement (Aq. 1.5, 8, 10) that three aqueducts arose on the property and the problems it causes see McCracken pp. 322–31. Note also the somewhat speculative remarks of Jolivet (1987) pp. 902–4.

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12 Plut. Luc. 39; Tac. Ann. 11.1; Front. Aq. 1.22. See further Platner/ Ashby pp. 268–9 who place the Apollo Room here. Other discussions in van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 192–3; Grimal (1969) pp. 126–9 and Shatzman (1975) pp. 379–80 who may, perhaps, exaggerate the size of the buildings. See Rawson’s remarks, (1983) p. 49, on the resemblance of this age to the eighteenth century AD. 13 Pliny NH 8.211; Plut. Luc, 40, Pomp. 2, Mor. 204B, 786A. See Scardigli (1989) p. 487 n. 537. 14 Sources and discussion in Jolivet (1987) pp. 885–91. His suggestion (pp. 901–2) that Lucullus built fish-ponds here rests on a view of the Neapolitan villa which I would not accept (see n. 25). See also D’Arms (1970) pp. 186–7 and Beloch (1890) pp. 87–8 but note that Cic. Ad Att. 14.20.1 contradicts the latter’s theory that Brutus was the next owner of the island after Lucullus. See further n. 25. 15 Plut. Mar. 34; Sen. Ep. 51.11; Pliny NH 18.32; Phaedr. 2.5.8. Modern discussions: D’Arms (1970) pp. 23–30, 184; Badian (1973); Jolivet (1987) pp. 878–85. 16 D’Arms (1970) pp. 23, 27, 42–3; Badian (1973) p. 121. Modern Baia is, apparently, but a shadow of its ancient self. 17 Beloch (1890) p. 198; D’Arms (1970) p. 185; Jolivet (1987) p. 883. 18 So we may infer from Plut. Luc. 39, but see Jolivet (1987) p. 881. 19 Plut. Mar. 34. 20 Pliny NH 18.32; Sen. Ep. 51.11. Cf. Keaveney (1983d) p. 44. On the Pliny passage Jolivet (1987) pp. 882–3 is, I think, preferable to Badian (1973) p. 121 n. 1 or D’Arms (1970) p. 23. Van Ooteghem (1959) p. 188 n. 5 appears to have misunderstood the same passage. The contrast is not between a villa of Lucullus at Naples and one of Marius at Baiae but between Marius’ villa and that of Lucullus at Tusculum. Was the cultured Sulla echoing Herod. 4.144? 21 D’Arms (1970) p. 28 n. 33; Keaveney (1983d) pp. 155–6. Should Schol. Bob. p. 89 St. be right in saying that C.Scribonius Curio (cos. 76) bought one of Marius’ properties in the proscriptions then plainly it is not this one but another. But, if as some think, the scholiast is wrong in the circumstantial detail of the proscription then indeed Curio’s property could be the same as Cornelia’s. This, then, leads to the suggestion that he might have bought it from Lucullus at a later date. For full discussions of this vexed question see the modern authorities cited in n. 15 above. I have but one observation to make. Even if we accept Curio did not get his property in the proscription it still does not necessarily follow that it was Cornelia’s. 22 Modern scholars sometimes brand Cornelia as avaricious on the basis of this role. On this charge I prefer to follow Badian (1973) p. 122 n. 8 rather than D’Arms (1970) p. 28 n. 33. 23 On the later history see Van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 191–2 and D’Arms (1970) pp. 113–15. 24 On the basis of Varro RR 3.17.9 both Badian (1973) p. 131 and D’Arms (1970) p. 185 argue that Lucullus did make alterations but for me the objections both van Ooteghem (1959) p. 189 n. 3 and Jolivet (1987) pp. 898–9 seem cogent. Plutarch’s vague (Luc. 39)

Notes

25 26 27 28 29 30 31

32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49

50

247

could, one supposes, just about be stretched to cover work here. Against Beloch (1890) pp. 81–2 see D’Arms (1970) pp. 185–6. Jolivet (1987) pp. 891–7 appears to doubt its existence entirely but he has not, in my view, wholly explained away the literary evidence. Plut. Luc. 39, Comp. Luc./Cim. 1; Cic. Acad. 2.9; Pliny NH 9.170; Varro RR 3.17.9; Sall. Cat. 13.1; Horace Od. 3.1.33–7. McCracken (1942) p. 339 thought Lucullus might also have kept fish at Tusculum. For the tides see Loeb edition note on Varro RR 3.17.9. Varro RR 3.3.10, 17.2–9. See D’Arms (1970) pp. 41–2. Vell. Pat. 2.33.4; Pliny NH 9.170; Herod. 7.22–4. Actually this is explicitly spelt out in one story: see n. 70. Plut. Luc. 39. For Tubero’s identity see van Ooteghem (1959) p. 187 n. 3; Jolivet (1987) p. 875 n. 2; Scardigli (1989) p. 485 n. 529. Note that the tongue-lashing of a young man by Cato for, among other things, living like Lucullus is admitted by Plutarch (Luc. 40, Cat. Min. 19) to be, perhaps, not by Cato at all. So Villoresi (1939) p. 192 and Scardigli (1989) p. 440 n. 545. Cf. Jolivet (1987) p. 875 n. 2 and Scardigli (1989) pp. 290–1. 3.30–1. Ad Att. 1.13.2. ibid., 1.18.6. Cf. Varro RR 3.9.10 and Macrob. Sat. 3.15.6. Ad Att, 2.1.7. See ch. VII. Ad Att. 1.19.6, 1.20.3. The reputation of Sulla is a good example. 2.33.4. Con. 9.2.19. See n. 8. Apologeticus 11.8. 6.274E-F; 12.543A. See end of ch. VII and further below. De Vir. Ill. 74. Compare 22.8.16 with 23.5.16. Mor. 785F. The Loeb translator renders ‘sexual intercourse in the daytime’ but alas! the Greek could mean simply ‘parties in the daytime’. Note, however, that the notion that there is a time and a place for everything and that pleasure-seekers of the day sought their thrills by violating the natural order is found also in Sall. Cat. 13.3. I suspect that it was this passage from the Moralia that led Balsdon (1974) p. 55 to suggest that Lucullus might have been guilty of sexual impropriety. See the notes to ch. VII and scrutinize carefully Plut. Luc. 38–43 with Plut. Pomp. 46. In ch.I I suggested that Cicero was one of the sources for Plutarch’s conception of Lucullus’ philosophical attainments. I would hesitate to say, however, that this was also where Plutarch got the notion of Lucullus as a degenerate. The whole idea does owe something, however, I would suspect, to

248

51 52

53 54 55 56 57

58 59

60

61 62 63 64

65 66

Notes

Plutarch’s preconception of the character (Luc. 39). For some further perceptive observation on Plutarch’s distortions see Scardigli (1989) pp. 288–93. See Keaveney and Madden (forthcoming). (1939) p. 23. It may be pedantic to point out that Lucullus was never a devotee of Epicurus but it is very relevant to our thesis to note that Cicero is Syme’s source here. In essence this same picture is also found in Balsdon (1969) p. 141 and Seager (1979) p. 79 n. 43. In the case of Rawson (1983) p. 102 and Antonelli (1989) p. 174 their like verdicts are contradicted by their own narratives. For a useful corrective see Shackleton Bailey (1965) pp. 302–3 on Hortensius. Varro RR 3.3.10 with Jolivet (1987) p. 878 n. 15. D’Arms (1970) pp. 6, 41; van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 189 n. 2, 192 n. 2; Grimal (1969) pp. 7–10. Mith. 84. See McCracken (1942) p. 325. Those who would castigate Lucullus might care to remember that, like he, the Victorians built piers into the sea. Those that survive are, I believe, treasured as architecture not reviled as expressions of decadence. Our age, too, has had a notable piscinarius. From Miller (1985) p. 200 I quote a daughter on a famous father, ‘he used to sit in that chair and in the box at the side were lovely consignments of fresh grubs for the fish, which they loved. And they used to come streaming across the pool when they saw his figure there. And then after he’d fed them he nearly always stayed for quite a long time in that chair in deep contemplation’. The daughter is Mary Soames; her father was Winston Churchill. As Plutarch, in his way, saw: see Luc. 38. Cic. Pro Flacc. (especially 84–6 with Long ad loc.) with Gruen (1974) pp. 289–91; Seager (1979) pp. 100–1. The date is not absolutely certain, see Shackleton Bailey on Cic. Ad Att. 2.25.1 and n. 60. Epstein (1987) pp. 109–11 puts the case for non-Pompeian involvement. Cic. Ad Att. 2.24, In Vat. 25–6; Plut. Luc. 42; Dio 38.9. Discussions of the myriad problems the affair presents, together with further bibliography, will be found in Shackleton Bailey (1965) on Ad Att. 2.22, 24, Ward (1977b) pp. 236–42 and Seager (1979) pp. 99–101. See further below. Note what was said about Crassus in ch. VI. See ch. VI. Lucullus, of course, must have been aware of Caesar’s activities in Asia in 74, cf. app. 2. Background to the Triumvirate: Gruen (1974) pp. 83–90; Ward (1977b) pp. 193–218; Seager (1979) pp. 78–84. For Caesar see Gelzer (1968) pp. 14–70. He loses no opportunity to point to instances of Caesar’s political acumen to date and it seems reasonable to suppose contemporaries did not miss them either. App. BC 2.9. Caesar’s two agrarian laws are mentioned by Plut. Cat. Min. 31–3; Dio 38.1–7.3; Suet. Div. Jul. 20. They are telescoped into one in Plut. Caes. 14 and App. BC 2.10–12 (but see BC 2.13). Vell. Pat.

Notes

67

68 69 70

71 72 73

74 75 76 77 78

249

2.44.4 notes only the second, while Plut. Luc. 42 and Pomp. 48 inform us of the first and Lucullus’ part in the resistance to it. For discussions of the dating of Caesar’s laws see Shackleton Bailey (1965) pp. 406–8 and Seager (1979) pp. 190–2. (a) This reconstruction rests on the yoking of Suet. Div. Jul. 20 and Dio 38.7.5, as reasonably suggested by Butler and Cary (1966) p. 67. Dio, of course, refers to the situation that arose as a result of what Suetonius describes. Their further proposal that Plut. Luc. 42 be invoked here cannot be accepted since that refers to the agrarian law. Nor can I follow Gelzer (1968) p. 75 n. 5 in suggesting that Plutarch is actually mistaken in assigning the opposition now to the agrarian law, cf. n. 66. (b) Gruen (1974) p. 92 n. 29 thinks Lucullus may have been making a mock submission but Caesar would want to humiliate an archSullan and had already done so in the case of Catulus (see above). Cf. Syme (1939) p. 56 n. 1. (c) Calumniarum metum is usually taken to mean Caesar threatened a prosecution in connection with Lucullus’ activities in Asia, so Butler and Cary (1966) p. 67 and van Ooteghem (1959) p. 174. This is possible but I would not invoke Cic. Pro Flacc. 85 in this context. (d) Calumniae need not necessarily refer to a false accusation in court. As in the similar case of Catulus charges could have been made on the spot. If, as is thought, Caesar was behind Vettius (n. 60) then he might for instance very well have accused Lucullus of some kind of plot now. Plut. Camp. Cim./Luc. 1; Gelzer (1968) p. 84. Cic. Ad. Att. 2.21.2, 25.2. Retirement: Plut. Luc. 42–3, Cic. 31. Both Moles (1988) on this latter passage and Rawson (1983) p. 116 think Cicero consulted M. Lucullus. No reason is given but I presume they are thinking of the state of Lucullus’ health. If so, this does not necessarily preclude such a meeting (see n. 71). Despite van Ooteghem (1959) p. 169 I do not think Cic. Acad. 2.3 refers to the retirement. Background: Rawson pp. 113–16; Gelzer (1968) pp. 96–101; Fehrle (1983) pp. 136–46; Benner (1987) pp. 61–3. Pompey’s verdict: Plut. Luc. 38, Pomp. 48, Mor. 204B, 785F. Only the Pomp, passage dates it to about mid-59. I have brought it into harmony with Luc. 43. Plut. Luc. 43, Mor. 792B-C; De Vir. Ill 74; Pliny NH 25.25. Herod. 6.84. Ars Am. 2.99–106. He mentions one specific potion which is also described by Pliny NH 8.165. Otherwise he talks vaguely of Medean herbs and Marsian charms. For the reputation of the Marsi as wonder-workers see Keaveney (1987) p. 25. Pliny NH 25.25 and see what was said about Ovid in n. 73. 2.58 (with Gow ad loc.). This might be classified as a spell but the distinction between spell and philtre is not, perhaps, always clear cut. Suet. Cal. 50; Eusebius, Hieronymi Chronicon p. 149 Helm. Bennett (1972). Plut. Luc. 43 with Scardigli (1989) p. 498 n. 565; Keaveney (1983d) p. 212; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 199 n. 1.

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IX LUCIUS LICINIUS LUCULLUS AND HIS AGE 1 See, e.g., Syme (1939) pp. 7–9; Wiseman (1985) pp. 3–16; Gruen (1974) pp. 502–3. On the democratic element in the republican constitution see North’s remarks (1990) and further below. 2 The most recent attempt to explain the republic’s fall is that of Brunt (1988) pp. 1–92. 3 Plut. Comp. Cim./Luc. 1. 4 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 190–2. 5 ibid., pp. 206–7. 6 From another perspective the entrenched nature of the Roman oligarchy has recently been emphasized by Burckhardt (1990) p. 87 and North (1990) pp. 16–17. 7 The two were, of course, virtually synonymous in the mind of the average Roman noble. 8 De Blois (1987) pp. 17–19. 9 Later in the same decade a similar problem with regard to Spartacus was solved in a somewhat similar fashion by calling on Crassus, cf. MRR 2.116, 118. 10 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 208–10. 11 Short-sighted this generation may have been, but few today, I suspect, would join in the harsh condemnation visited upon it by scholars of a previous time, cf. e.g. Holmes (1923) pp. 133–4. 12 Plut. Luc. 33. 13 See, in particular, Plut. Cim. 2. For the alleged portrait bust found at Sinope in the early 1950s see van Ooteghem (1959) fig. 14. 14 De Vir. Illt. 74, cf. Plut. Luc. 39. 15 Cf. Cic. Brut. 141–2. 16 Saturninus and Sulla, for instance. 17 A comparison with the efforts of Livius Drusus to woo the plebs in 91 might, I think, be useful. See the detailed discussion in Keaveney (1987) pp. 87–92. 18 There is much good sense in Holmes (1923) pp. 92–4. 19 Note, too, the careful investigation before the absolution of Chaeroneia and the harsh tone adopted towards Cyrene at about the same time. 20 There may be a hint of this in Plut. Luc. 33 where in effect he says Lucullus expected to be obeyed without question. This is surely a man who enjoys a post of great responsibility where he does not have to share that responsibility or defer to the sensibilities of others, cf. Plut. Luc. 14. 21 For reasons which will become clear shortly I share De Blois’s anxiety (1987 p. 57) that we should use the plural. 22 The classic discussion of this is Gabba (1976) pp. 1–69. 23 Cf. ch. IV. In his important discussion of the career officer, (1958) pp. 59–69, Smith (p. 63) remarks that the list of legates for 74 is particularly instructive for those who would study the phenomenon. Note, too, that contrast with Pompey’s legates in 67, cf. Seager

Notes

24

25 26 27 28 29

30 31 32 33 34

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(1979) pp. 36–7, brings out the transitional nature of the age. Old and new subsist together. Brunt’s objection, (1988) pp. 255–6, 267–9, to the term ‘professional army’ and his seeming attempt to explain away the phenomenon lack cogency. He points out that lengths of service might vary and that many served only for a short time. Thus a man on enlistment could never count on having a lengthy military career before him. This, of course, does not address the problem of what would happen to a recruit, willing or unwilling, who did find himself on long-term service. Cf. Gabba (1976) pp. 25–6. Brunt (1988) pp. 253–6. Smith (1958) pp. 44–58; Gabba (1976) p. 39. Ch. VI. See Sallust’s sour comment on Roman soldiers and foreign women (Cat. 11.6). This was long ago recognized as characteristic of the professional army by Hugh Last, apud Brunt (1988) p. 267, whose own denial of its validity is grounded in his failure to distinguish between the consequences of short-term and long-term service. Donative: see e.g. App. BC 4.89, 118. Booty: Harris (1979) pp. 50, 56, 102–3. Land: Gabba (1976) pp. 47–8; Smith (1958) pp. 51–2 and further below (n. 34). Plut. Luc. 34. Although he seems to deny it, the other instances gathered by Brunt (1988) pp. 268–9 appear to support this thesis. Plut. Tib. Gracch. 9. Keaveney (1982a) pp. 539–43. The case presented there has not, in my opinion, been answered by Brunt (1988) pp. 267–73 but some further points may be noted. Brunt pp. 243 n. 12, 245 denies that the urban plebs were interested in land allotments. The evidence suggests precisely the opposite, cf. Keaveney (1987) pp. 47–92 and note the uneasy admission of Brunt p. 251. Since by common consent these people would not have made good farmers their case here parallels that of the soldier: they subscribed to an ideal which was for them outmoded also, an ideal that, we may remark, finds its most eloquent expression in the Georgics of Vergil, a man whose capacity for physical toil probably equalled that of another eulogizer of the simple existence, Alexander Pope (‘Ode on Solitude’). It may be further remarked that C.Gracchus seems to have known his men well, for he would only admit the wellto-do to his colonies (Plut. C.Gracch. 9). Grants of land, rather than cash on discharge, suited both recipient and giver. For the recipient it meant the fulfilment of what his whole education and upbringing had taught him to expect was but natural. For the donor it meant, as Brunt emphasizes, that a potentially dangerous element in society had been neutralized by being offered security. I would emphasize in turn that this was an objective that was not always achieved. Those who sold up immediately may have been more realistic and may have had their appreciation of ready cash sharpened by handling large quantities of booty. At any rate, Brunt himself does concede that one possible

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Notes

interpretation of Augustus’ cash donative of 13 is that he recognized that soldiers did not always make good farmers. De Blois (1987) pp. 19–21, 55–6, 58–9. For concrete illustrations in the period of civil wars see e.g. App. BC 2.3, 4.89, 100, 118–19, 123, 134, 5.17, 128. Cf. App. BC 4.123, Iber. 85. It is worth remarking, perhaps, that this is strangely at variance with his ability to woo the plebs. For a severe modern judgement see Villoresi (1939) pp. 199–201.

APPENDIX 1: ASIA 81–79 1 MRR; Magie (1950); Jashemski (1950). 2 For some dissent see Butler and Cary (1966) on Suet. Div. Jul. 2 and Ormerod (1978) p. 214. 3 Keaveney (1983b) pp. 185–6. 4 Sources: MRR 2.77. Cf. Badian (1955). 5 MRR 2.83. 6 For instance, governors operating under the Lex Pompeia cannot be invoked—see Marshall (1972). Temporary absence for military reasons (cf. e.g. MRR 1.556) is self-evidently not relevant either. 7 Greenidge (1911) p. 187. 8 MRR 1.543. 9 MRR 2.169. 10 That is assuming that Sumner (1971) p. 268 n. 41 is correct in his reconstruction of this man’s career against Marshall (1972) p. 900 n. 53 who follows Jashemski (1950) p. 133. In favour of Sumner it may be noted that the sources (MRR 2.250) speak only of Longus’ desire for a consulship and have nothing to say about necessity to meet the requirements of the Lex Pompeia (n. 6 above). 11 Keaveney (1983b) pp. 199–202; Badian (1965) p. 112; Marshall (1972) p. 902 n. 58 also invokes the clause in the Lex Cornelia and the Lex Julia de pecuniis repetundis that forbade a governor to leave his province during his term of office. Plainly this was aimed mainly at those who would wander abroad to do mischief but it is reasonable to suppose it would also bind those who were simply in a hurry to go home. 12 Div. Jul. 18. Cf. MRR 2.184 and n. 14 below. 13 On this point see discussion below. 14 Suet. Div. Jul. 18 (ad triumphum simul consulatumque decessit) should not be taken to mean that Caesar gave his desire to triumph as his reason for leaving Spain. What he sought was special permission to triumph. The very fact that this was refused but that he was still allowed to proceed with his candidature shows clearly what the legal basis of his return was. Cf. Gelzer (1968) p. 64. For an example of a man kept waiting for a triumph see MRR 2.168. 15 Imperator: MRR 2.70. 16 Leg. Man. 8. 17 Keaveney (1983d) p. 172.

Notes

18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30

31 32

33 34 35 36 37

38 39

253

Cf. Keaveney (1984a) pp. 119–21. See Badian (1983) pp. 156–71 and Sumner (1973) pp. 113–14. As will be made clear shortly, the siege of Mytilene was not a reason. Cf. MRR 3.106. MRR 2.76, 80, 81. Jashemski (1950) p. 147. 2 Verr. 1.41–102. ibid., 1.50. ibid., 1.63–76. Lic. 32F. See app. 2 for some further remarks on the epitome. MRR 2.81; Magie (1950) 2 p. 1124 n. 41. The detail of the slaves and booty invoked by Magic is not decisive. They could have come from the territory of Mytilene. There was certainly booty of some kind in Lucullus’ camp when the townsfolk attacked it. Defeat before the walls does not, of course, mean the end of the siege. Cf. e.g. App. Mith. 32. For a further factor that may have helped prolong resistance see below n. 35. MRR 2.78. Keaveney (1982d) pp. 133–4, (1983d) p. 208. It should be further observed that his return to Rome in 78 is not represented by Suet. Div. Jul. 3 as coming about because a threat to his life had been lifted but because he saw advantages to himself in the contemporary political situation. Cf. Gelzer (1968) p. 22. Keaveney (1984a) pp. 128, 140. For Caesar and Servilius see below. Suet. Div. Jul. 2. This circumstance could explain why the Mytileneans held out for so long. If the Romans did not have control of the sea they would be able to bring in supplies. Suet. Div. Jul. 3, with MRR 2.87. Cic. 2 Verr. 1.73, 77; Ps.-Asc. p. 242 St. Verres’ trip to Bithynia (2 Verr 1.63) may have been in search of loot but it was hardly advertised as such. Its ostensible object must have been to gather ships for the war. Both Ormerod (1978) p. 214 and Magie (1950) 1 p. 286 tend to dismiss the campaigns of Dolabella. Freeman (1986) pp. 259–60 offers a more judicious analysis. Keaveney (1984a) p. 142; Gelzer (1968) pp. 22–3. Cic. 2 Verr. 1.77, 95–7.

APPENDIX 2: WHEN DID THE THIRD MITHRIDATIC WAR BEGIN? 1 2 3 4 5

See further ch. V. Holmes (1923) p. 398. See also section (iv) on Livy. Magie (1950) 2 p. 1204 n. 5. McGing (1984) pp. 16–17; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 165 n. 25.

254 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

19 20

21 22 23 24

25 26 27 28

Notes

Compare, e.g., Pro Mur. 88. Cf. Pro Cluentio 90. Ch. I n. 14. McGing (1984) p. 15. Cf. MRR 2.109 n. 6. Magie (1950) 1 p. 324; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 165 n. 4 and McGing (1984) p. 12 all concede the consuls could have left Rome in 74 although they believe the war started in 73. Cf., e.g., Braund (1984) p. 135 and the section on Livy below. In the light of subsequent events we may, with Magie (1950) 1 p. 320, agree that while Nysa was his mother Nicomedes was probably not his father. Cf, e.g., McGing (1984) pp. 15–16. For him see the section on Velleius Paterculus below. Maurenbrecher places it before Mithridates’ negotiations with Sertorius (Hist. 2.78, 79M) and Curio’s activities in Macedonia (Hist. 2.80M). For a discussion of the phenomenon of royal wills see Braund (1984) pp. 129–39. In my view, the preparations for war (App. Mith. 68–9) are as likely to have arisen from the contents of Nicomedes’ will as they are from speculative theories about his health as in Scardigli (1971) p. 259; Glew (1981) p. 129. Keeping in mind, of course, that his chances of success were slim. MRR 2.98, 3.113; Ward (1977a). Since Sall. Hist. 2.71M appears to indicate the existence of two parties in the kingdom we might expect the pretender to seize the initiative or try and regain it. Some, e.g. Braund (1984) p. 158, n. 31, suppose on the basis of Sall. Ep. Mith. 9 that Mithridates supported the pretender. If so, then he must have returned to Pontus after his rebuff by the Romans. But the passage need not necessarily bear this construction, for it does not seem to be anything more than an item in a long list (5–9) of Roman enormities. This opens with Philip V of Macedon and I do not think anyone would suggest he received aid from Mithridates! See also n. 91. See McGing (1984) pp. 14–15. 6.5.1 is obviously picking up 6.1.1. As each war is dealt with in turn it is fully narrated to its end. See MRR 2.70, 80, 89. The degree of inaccuracy we choose to attribute to his dating of the resulting triumphs will depend on how elastic a term we think uno tempore (6.5.2) to be. Morgan (1971) p. 290 n. 70 does not seem to have shown much sensitivity to Eutropius’ methods in his reading of the text. The rest of the sentence et…redactae could be pressed to mean the war continued after Sertorius’ death. See below. On the promagistrates of 78 see MRR 2.86–7. For all of these see Samuel (1972) pp. 249–53. Further examples are given in den Boer’s study (1972 pp. 124–37). It is true that Lucullus may have left Rome in late 73 (MRR 2.109) but Eutropius conceives of the pro-magisterial year being

Notes

29 30 31 32

33 34 35

36 37

38 39

40 41 42

255

entered upon after the magisterial, cf. Keaveney (1987) p. 211 and so I deduce he is talking of our 72 BC when he says Macedoniam… accepit. It is only by ignoring this last chronological indicator and assuming that Eutropius here is using epoch 751 that the equation 678=74 BC noted above can be arrived at. The equivalent passages (Eutropius first) are as follows, 6.1.1–3= 5.23.1–15; 6.2.1–2=5.23.16–20; 6.3=5.23.21–2; 6.4=5.23.23. 2.4.1. 5.6.1, 6.7.1, 6.18.1. The problem with this passage was recognized long ago. The second hand in the codex Rehdigeranus (cf. Zangmeister pp. XIII–XIV) corrected the number to 676 which in the Varronian system is the equivalent of our 78 BC. Was the Ignotus trying to reconcile Orosius and Eutropius? Gabba (1967) p. 316 seems unaware of the problem. Cf. MRR 2.114. Plut. Cat. Min. 19 strongly suggests acquittal. Brunt (1980) pp. 487–8 does not seem to have fully understood the value of what he calls ‘the wretched Periochae’. I have taken my cue from the more careful and imaginative approach of Badian (1964) pp. 45–6, (1976) p. 507. Cf. Keaveney (1987) p. 160 and (1983a) p. 280 n. 2. The following considerations determine the chronological limits. The upper limit: it is doubtful if the words bellum excitavit could refer to 80 since Ep. 89 closes with events in 79 (cf. app. 1), contra MRR 3.164. Domitius Calvinus is believed to be praetor 81/pro cos. 80 or praetor 80/pro cos. 79 (MRR 3.84). He is closely linked with Metellus Pius (Eutrop 6.1.2; Oros. 5.23.3–4; cf. Spann 1987 pp. 65–6) who most probably did not arrive in Spain until 79 although a date in 80 cannot be completely ruled out. But even if the earlier date for Metellus’ arrival is accepted the defeat must be assigned to 79 since there was probably little time left in 80 for campaigning by the time Metellus got there. The lower limit: L. Manlius was probably pro cos. in Transalpine Gaul in 78 (MRR 2.87, 3.135). His defeat is the last Spanish event listed by the epitomator before the despatch of Pompey (see below) in 77, so it cannot be later than about the middle of that year. Most likely 78 is the date, cf. Spann p. 72. MRR 2.87. All are agreed that Pompey was despatched in 77 but there is disagreement as to whether he arrived in 77 or 76 (MRR 3.162). Obsequens 77 shows the Livian tradition favoured 77 and is in agreement with the Epitomator’s picture of his lack of success. For Appius Claudius see MRR 2.89, 94. On this chronology the battle of Segovia here mentioned will be in 76, cf. MRR 3.163. Note also what is said in section (v) on Appian below. MRR 3.163. MRR 2.99. As Spann (1987) pp. 117–18 points out, the disappointing campaigns of 76 must have given rise to disaffection in Sertorius’ ranks and

256

43

44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

55 56 57

58 59

Notes

this notice gives us his reaction. Theoretically it may belong in 75 with Curio or 74 with Servilius but the former is to be preferred since reaction would be expected to be immediate. That this is the only Spanish notice for 75 in the epitome need not cause alarm. Another tradition (that of Appian) has far worse lacunae. See also the remarks of Broughton (MRR 3.163). For more on disaffection in Sertorius’ ranks see below. MRR 2.105; Ep. 93 is, of course, picking up Ep. 90. The latter notices the beginning, the former the end of the campaign. This kind of thing is quite common in the epitome: compare Ep. 80 with Ep. 84 and see n. 48 below with Keaveney (1982a) p. 502. Note ablative absolute: foedere…icto. Whatever date we choose for the start of the war, I am persuaded by McGing (1986) pp. 137–9 that this treaty belongs in the preceding year. See further ch. IV. The position of this notice makes the date of 74 virtually certain. It may be noted that it is consistent with Pompey’s receiving reinforcements then, cf. ch. IV. For these events see ch. V. Position would seem to indicate 73 since we have had already a Spanish notice for 74 and the next notice is for 73. This picks up Ep. 92, cf. MRR 2.112. MRR 2.109–10, 115 n. 1. Since Lucullus was cos. 74 then logically this refers to 73. MRR 2.116–17. For a discussion of this date see text below. MRR 2.117, 3.120, 135. It is true that he sometimes gets titles wrong—cf. e.g. n. 37—but proven error at one point does not justify postulating it in another without corroborating evidence, as is tentatively attempted by McGing (1984) p. 17. I leave Ep. 94 out of my reckoning at this point because it is flanked by controversial Sertorian data. For yet another perspective see the section on Appian below. On this term see Scardigli (1971) p. 264. Compare the tradition concerning Servilius Vatia. Eutrop. 6.3 and Oros. 23.22 refer to his campaigns as a three-year war while Cic. 2 Verr. 3.211 talks of a quinquennium, cf. Liv. Ep. 90 and 93. One set of authorities is plainly thinking of the duration of the imperium, the other of the actual campaign, see Ormerod (1922) pp. 37–9. It will be noted that for the Epitomator the year of the triumph concluded the account of a campaign. Cf. Ep. 90, 92, 95 with MRR 2.105, 112. Here Bennett (1961) p. 464 is to be preferred to Gabba (1967) p. 296, (1956) pp. 97–101 and Scardigli (1971) p. 264 who argue that Orosius arr ived at the figure ten because he was taking into account the two years’ hostility before the war proper began, as they think, in 80. However, it is clear from 5.23.3 that he did not regard these events as part of the war proper and so they should not be used in calculation. For what it is worth one of the possible interpretations of Orosius’ AUC starting-date is 79 (cf. above). This

Notes

60

61 62

63

64 65 66

67 68

69 70 71 72 73 74

257

would certainly square with a war whose tenth and final year was 70—the number we have deduced from the epitome, see n. 58. For some further remarks on ancient and modern views of where we mark the start of the Sertor ian war see my final conclusion below. Mith. 72 is, of course, one of the main supports of Bennett’s attempt, (1961), to date the war from 73. For a refutation of his numismatic arguments see section (iii) above. The other points he raises have, in my view, been adequately dealt with by Scardigli (1971) pp. 259–79. It will be found in Gabba (1956) pp. 89–101. I hope to publish shortly a comprehensive examination of the question. In the mean time it should be noted that handling of the matter can be unsure. For instance, Morgan (1971) p. 300 n. 99 searches for a which a further survey precision in phrases such as of the text reveals they do not have. Indeed, the complexity of the issue seems to elude him almost entirely. He certainly seems to be unaware that where such phrases are not simply vague, they can also be downright misleading as in BC 1.4, 104. McGing (1980) pp. 36–7 adopts a more sure-footed and mature approach. See, e.g., BC 1.14, 78, 2.42, 52, 55, 5.11, 52, 76. Examples could be multiplied. Autumn, so far as I can discover, is mentioned only once, in Iber. 66, and then in connection with a premature withdrawal to winter quarters. See, e.g., Hann. 35, Iber. 48, 67, BC 1.103 with Gabba (1956) p. 100. Plut. Luc. 5; Sall. Hist. 2.98M. See ch. IV. The great differences in the two most recent reconstructions of the events of the Sertorian War after 77 (MRR 3.162–4 and Spann (1987) pp. 82–138) are a tribute to the state of our sources. Fortunately, we here need not share their concern with assigning individual events to individual years. We are dealing simply with the number of years Appian thought was involved. See section (iv) and Oost (1963) p. 20; Badian (1965) p. 119. The detail about Ptolemy is probably not an error. Appian is simply telling us when the bequest was taken up. For this system of reckoning see Bickerman (1968) pp. 75–6, and Samuel (1972) pp. 189–94. What they have to say about the difficulties of conversion from this system to another should be borne steadily in mind in what follows. See, e.g., Gabba (1967) p. 307; Oost (1963) p. 20. Appian’s other uses of Olympiad dating: BC 1.84, 99, Gall. 2.1, Iber. 4, 38, 42, Lib. 67, 135, Mith. 17, 53. See BC 2.48, 54, 149, 3.50, 5.34, 97. For possible solutions that Appian does not seem to have adopted see Bickerman (1968). A view not contradicted, as we saw, by the references to bequests and reinforcements. See Gabba (1967) pp. 307–9 and Bickerman’s table of equivalences (1968).

258 75 76 77 78

79 80 81 82 83 84 85

86 87

88 89 90

91

Notes

Keaveney (1982d) p. 125 and further below. Cf. Matthews (1979). MRR 2.74. See, for example, BC 1.29. 34, 78, 2.103, 3.50, Illyr. 28. Examples could be multiplied. It is astonishing to read in Morgan (1971) p. 284 that Appian does not use consular dating. This assertion seems to rest on either a misunderstanding of Gabba (1956) p. 9 n. 1 or a failure to appreciate Appian’s style. Like the Epitomator of Livy (see above) he does not always preface a year with the names of the consuls but rather allows the date to be inferred from a man’s rank. Pace Morgan he does sometimes preface a campaign with the names of the consuls. Morgan’s hasty and superficial examination seems to have overlooked a prime example in BC 1.40—a passage fully discussed in Keaveney (1987) pp. 207–9. MRR 2.79–82. See Matthews (1979) pp. 241–2. MRR 1.382. Lib. 135. MRR 1.467, 470. Gabba’s guess, (1967) p. 307, of a ‘manuale di cronologia’ is as good as any. On the evidence of Lib. 135 and BC 1.99 Appian was not very good at making such chronological calculations as he did attempt with these Olympiads. Here may be a further explanation for yoking what may be a bequest of 75 to one of 74. BC 1.65. See especially BC 1.86 (with Gabba 1967 p. 227), 94, 108 and also Iber. 101. BC 1.84 with Gabba (1967) p. 221. The three years should not be designated as Olympiad years, pace Gabba (cf. above). They are in fact an attempt to give precision to a vague chronological indicator. This kind of thing is not uncommon in Appian. The narrative of Spartacus’ rebellion, for instance, is introduced with the vague words (116) obviously indicating that it fell within the notorious 176th Olympiad (111). Precision is then attempted in For other examples of 118 when we are told it was inclusive reckoning see Sic. 2.2, Hann. 60, BC 1.76, 2.19. BC 1.94–7 with Gabba (1967) pp. 250–62 and Keaveney (1982d) p. 125. Note also Eutrop. 5.9. See above. The other passage referred to in our text is BC 1.108, which plainly refers to 77. One supposes Appian could have dated the war from then but that view is contradicted not only by BC 1.97 but also by the résumé of the war this very passage contains. in Italy. References of So I interpret the reference to this sort to Rome’s inter nal difficulties in the 70s are not uncommon but each must be interpreted in relation to its context. By way of contrast and example note that the interna mala of Sall. Ep. Mith. 13 almost certainly refers to the first Civil War and the rebellion of Lepidus. See also Oros. 5.23.1 and ch. IV.

Notes

92 93 94 95 96 97

98

99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107

108 109 110 111 112 113

259

Mith. 69–70, 72. See Holmes (1923) p. 399. MRR 3.121. See section (v) above. MRR 2.118, 3.121–3. See above, on Livy. See section (viii) below, on Julius Caesar. 2.30.5 merely states the Sertorian War was still in progress when the revolt of Spartacus broke out. It seems to me that 2.90.3 cannot be used either for dating the Sertorian War since we have no means of dating the beginning of the quinquennium. See the conflicting guesses recorded in Gabba (1956) p. 99. In a phrase such as consulatum ex quaestura (applied in Livy 32.7.9 to Flaminius cos. 198) what is meant is that the very next office he held after the quaestorship was the consulship and no other office intervened. One followed the other in the cursus. However, it should not be taken always to mean one office followed the other automatically without a break, for a time-lapse could intervene. But in Velleius at least the expression does mean one followed another without a break since he conceives of the pro-magistracy as immediately following on the magistracy. See Keaveney (1982d) pp. 123–4; MRR 1.329 n. 2, 3.123. Ch. IV; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 163; McGing (1984) p. 15 n. 12; MRR 2.106; Balsdon (1939) pp. 57–65. Sources and fundamental discussion in Ward (1977a) whose views on the relations of these sources to each other are here followed. Suet. Div. Jul. 4; Vell. Pat. 2.41.3; Plut. Caes. 1. For the name see Ward (1977a) pp. 26–9. Vell. Pat. 2.42.1–3; Suet. Div. Jul. 4; Plut. Caes. 2. Suet. Div. Jul. 4. See ch. V. Vell. Pat. 2.43.1–3. See MRR 2.113. MRR 2.98; Gelzer (1968) p. 24. Cic. Pis. 62; Ascon. 14C; Sall. Hist. 2.98M. See Balsdon (1939) p. 63 and MRR 2.111, 117, although the suggestion that Cotta died in either late 74 or early 73 is only a guess. It is by no means certain that Caesar was a legate to M.Antonius Creticus in 73: see Sumner (1973) p. 138 and MRR 3.105. But if he were, this would obviously favour a later rather than an earlier date for Cotta’s death. Holmes’ suggestion (1923) p. 402 that Phlegon equated his Olympic year with the Roman consular year does not appear to be correct. See Magie (1950) 2 p. 1210 n. 24. McGing (1984) p. 12. See App. Mith. 76, 78, 79; Plut. Luc. 11, 15, 33 and ch. V. The notion—see the bibliography in van Ooteghem (1959) p. 93 n. 6 and Holmes (1923) p. 402—that Lucullus wintered in the captured city is not acceptable. See ch. V and Gelzer col. 391. McGing (1984) p. 12. See Keaveney (1987) p. 160 n. 9 and Samuel (1972) pp. 189–94. See Carney (1960).

260

Notes

114 By way of comparison we may note that our sources for the battle of the Colline Gate in 82—which give what appear, on the surface, to be differ ing times for the star t—reveal themselves, on examination, to be in essential agreement. See Keaveney (1983d) p. 146 n. 28. 115 McGing (1984) p. 13; Holmes (1923) p. 401. 116 Nor, it should be said, can we turn Phlegon’s notice of Lucullus’ advance from Amisus into an advance into Bithynia and Pontus, as Sherwin-White (1984) p. 172 n. 45 would wish. 117 See ch. V. 118 McGing (1984) p. 13. 119 Memnon 31, 38.1 (Jacoby 3B pp. 360, 365); Plut. Luc. 21–2. 120 See ch. VI. 121 The remarks of Holmes (1923) p. 402 n. 1 should be consulted at this point. 122 As we saw above, the contemporary coins do not offer unequivocal testimony. 123 In contrast, the movements of Mithr idates after Cabira are uninformative: see below. 124 Part of the problem of dating Sertorius’ death, it will have been observed, is due to the fact that our sources are unable to agree at what point in his struggle the actual Sertorian War began. The year 82 which seems most natural to us does not seem to have been considered as the starting-point. See Spann (1987) pp. 40–55. 125 McGing (1984) pp. 15–16. 126 See ch. IV and section (ii) above. 127 If I am right in suggesting what would determine Rome’s policy on the king’s death then whenever that death would occur the occupation of Bithynia would follow hard upon. An occupation in winter suggests that Nicomedes died early in 74. 128 McGing (1984) p. 17. 129 App. Mith. 70. Compare the invasion route in the First Mithridatic War, App. Mith. 16. 130 What follows is a development from an observation of SherwinWhite (1984) p. 164, who does not appear to have realized the full significance of his discovery. McGing (1986) p. 145 n. 45 does not seem to have understood his argument at all. 131 Cf. McGing (1986) pp. 57–62. 132 See ch. V.

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Index

Abydos (Nara), 28 Achaeans, Harbour of the, 85 M’. Acilius Glabrio, 40, 120–2, 124, 126, 151, 162, 174, 180 Adiabeni, the, 108 Adrasteia, 79 Aegean, the, 80, 85, 87 C.Aelius Staienus, 69 M.Aemilius Lepidus (cos. 78), 38– 9, 41–5, 56–7, 62, 67, 73, 160, 167–8, 191, 194, 196 Mam. Aemilius Lepidus Livianus (cos. 77), 35, 47–8, 73, 132 Aesepus (Gönen), 84 L.Afranius, 142, 159, 162 Africa, 38, 40–2, 47, 53, 189 Agamemnon, 130 Albanians, the, 101 S.Albius Oppianicus (Larinum), 58, 69 Alexander the Paphlagonian, 85 Alexandria, 11, 21, 23–4 Allobroges, the, 138 Amasia (Amasya), 93, 95 Amastris (Amasra), 93 Amisus (Samsun), 87–8, 91–4, 96, 99, 119, 126, 176, 202–3 Anahita (Persian Artemis), 107, 136, 175 Andriscus, 198 Antioch in Syria, 10, 102 Antiochus of Ascalon, 11–12, 21–2, 24, 110, 142 Antiochus (Commagene), 111

Antiochus XIII (Seleucid), 111 M.Antonius, 69 Apamea, 84, 86 Aphnitis, Lake, 81 Aphrodite, 85 Apollo Room, 146–7 Apollonia, 82 Aqua Virgo, 147 M’.Aquillius (leg. 88), 30 Arabs, the, 107 Arausio (Orange), 108 Arcesilaus, 147 Archelaus, 19, 77, 80 Archias, 9–10, 138, 176 Arctonnesus (Kapidag), 78 Arctonoros, 78–9 Aricia (Ariccia), 73, 105 Aristion, 92 Aristonicus, 83, 190 Armenia, 87, 91, 99, 101, 103, 106, 110–14, 116–17, 119, 123, 125, 131, 203 Armenians, the, 107–8, 118 Q.Arrius, 195 Arsanias, river, 118 Artaxata (Artashat), 110, 118 Artemis (Persian) see Anahita Asia, 17, 25–6, 28–30, 33–4, 38, 42–3, 53, 64–6, 72, 75, 78–9, 82, 86–8, 93, 95–6, 98–9, 113–15, 120–2, 134, 155, 157, 159, 175–8, 182–5, 187, 189–91, 194, 200–1 Astacenus, 86

268

Index

Athena, 81 Athenians, the, 133 Athens, 11, 19, 25, 92, 147 Athos, Mount, 150 Atropateni, the, 118 Attalids, the, 96 Cn. Aufidius Orestes (cos. 71), 192 C.Aurelius Cotta (cos. 75), 57–9, 170, 201–2 L.Aurelius Cotta (pr. 70), 65 M.Aurelius Cotta (cos. 74) 48, 51, 65–6, 69, 71–2, 75, 77, 86–7, 93, 112, 188–9, 192, 194, 196, 202, 204–5 Autolycus, 94–5, 147 Baiae, 148 Banghazi, 22 Barba (Cassius Barba?), 73, 84 Billarus, 95, 147 Bithynia, 63–6, 70, 72, 75, 77, 82, 111, 120, 122, 124, 126, 186, 190, 194, 197, 199, 201–2, 204–5 Bithynians, the, 191 Boeotia, 18 Bona Dea, 138, 160, 163 Bosporus, the, 87 A.Braetius Sura, 18–19 Busbaleius, 56 Byzantium, 86 Cabira, 87, 89, 112, 119, 126, 202–3 Caecilia Metella, 3, 9 Q.Caecilius (uncle of Atticus), 9, 144 L.Caecilius Metellus Calvus (cos. 142), 3 Q.Caecilius Metellus Celer, 141–2, 160 Q.Caecilius Metellus Creticus, 57, 131, 141 L.Caecilius Metellus Delmaticus (cos. 119), 3 Q.Caecilius Metellus Macedonicus, 198

269

Q.Caecilius Metellus Numidicus (cos. 109), 3, 56 Q.Caecilius Metellus Pius, 39, 52, 132, 160, 191, 194–5, 198–9 Caesar see C.Julius Caesar Calacte (Caronia Marina), 9 Calgurris, 194 Callimachus, 91–2, 94, 119 Callisthenes, 164 M.Calpurnius Bibulus, 158, 161–2 Calvi, the, 1 Calycadnos (Göksu), 24 Campus Martius, the, 135, 165 Capitol, the, 135 Cappadocia, 63, 75, 90, 99, 104–5, 125 Capua, 3–4 Caria, 25 Carthage, 198 Caspian, sea, 101 C.Cassius Longinus (cos. 73), 195, 201 Cauca (Coca), 2 Celtiberi, the, 2 Censorinus (praef.), 73 Chaeroneia, 18, 26 Chaeroneians, the, 18–19 Chalcedon (Üsküdar), 75, 77–8, 84–6, 188 Chalcis, 19, 28 Chaldaei (=Calybes), the, 88, 91 Chersonesus (Gallipoli), 28 Chios, 26 Cicero see M.Tullius Cicero Cilicia, 24, 29, 65–6, 70, 75, 101, 103–4, 115, 122–4, 184, 186, 191, 193–4, 201 Cilicians, the, 21 Cinnans, the, 39 Circus Flaminius, the, 135 Circus Maximus, the, 135 Cisalpine Gaul, 53, 66, 201 Claudii, the, 48–9, 103 C.Claudius Nero, 31, 182, 184–7 Claudius Pulcher (=C.Claudius Glaber), 194 App. Claudius Pulcher (cos. 79), 48–9, 194, 198

270

Index

App. Claudius Pulcher (cos. 54), 48–9, 72, 98, 102–6, 111, 203 C.Claudius Pulcher, 48 Cleochares, 94 Cleomenes, King, 164 Clodia (Lesbia?), 48 Clodia (wife of Lucullus cos. 74), 48–50, 124, 133–4 Clodia Tertia, 48, 115, 124 P.Clodius Pulcher, 49, 72, 122, 124, 133, 139, 142, 163, 178 Clunia, 194 Cnidians, the, 25 Cnidus (Tekir), 25 Coans, the, 25 Colophon (Degirmendere), 25 Comana, 91, 119–20 P.Considius Longus, 183 Corinth, 92, 198 Cornelia (mother of Gracchi), 9 Cornelia (Sulla’s daughter), 149 Cornelii, the, 54 C.Cornelius (trib. pleb. 67), 132, 135 P.Cornelius Cethegus, 67–71, 170 L.Cornelius Cinna, 27, 67–8, 167, 199 Cn. Cornelius Dolabella (cos. 81), 47, 198 Cn. Cornelius Dolabella (pr. 81), 184–6 Cn. Cornelius Lentulus Clodianus (cos. 72), 195 P.Cornelius Lentulus Sura (cos. 71), 192 P.Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus, 2, 198 L.Cornelius Sisenna, 9, 47 F.Cornelius Sulla, 37 L.Cornelius Sulla, 7–11, 16–19, 21, 22–3, 25–34, 36–47, 54–9, 61–3, 65, 67, 69, 72–3, 75, 77, 85, 92, 96, 101–2, 116, 126, 128, 130, 132, 136–40, 148, 165–70, 172, 174–5, 180–5, 192, 194, 197–9 Cos, 25 Crassi, the, 1 Crassus see M.Licinius Crassus

Cretans, the, 21 Crete, 24, 131 Crimea, 94 Crixus, 195 Cybele, 35, 78 Cyprus, 24, 54, 63, 163 Cyrenaeans, the, 22–3 Cyrene, 22, 54, 197 Cyziceans, the, 80–1, 83–4 Cyzicus, 78, 80–1, 84, 93, 188, 192, 194, 199–200, 202, 204 Dadasa, 123 Dalmatia, 193 Damagoras, 27 Damon, 18–19 Danala, 127 Dardanelles, the, 28 Dardanus (Mal Tepe, S?ehitlik Batarya), 28, 61, 87, 204 Darnah, 22 Deiotarus, 82, 194 Denizkent, 84 Diana, 73, 105, 136, 175 Dindymon, 78, 82–3 Diodes, 87 Dionysius the Eunuch, 85 Diophantes, 75 M.Domitius Calvinus (pr. 80), 191, 194–5 Egypt, 21, 23, 63, 135 Elaea (Kazikbaglari), 30 Ephesus, 75, 95, 98, 105 Epicadus, 37 Epicurus, 154 Epigonus, 25 Etruria, 137 Eumachus, 79, 82 Eupatoria (suburb), 87, 92–3 Eupatoria (town), 88 Euphrates (philosopher), 12 Euphrates, river, 101, 104–5, 116, 118, 136, 175 Eupolemus, 9 Europe, 64, 205 Euxine, the, 26

Index

Fabia, 72, 193 M.Fabius Hadrianus, 73, 90, 119 202–3 C.Fannius (trib. pleb. 59), 158 L.Fannius (renegade), 63, 79, 82, 119 Fausta, 37, 130 C.Fidiculanius Falcula, 189 Fimbrians, the, 75, 79, 83, 122, 124–6, 178 L.Flavius (trib. pleb. 60), 141–2, 152 C.Flavius Fimbria (quaestor 86), 26–8, 63, 75, 120 Forum, the, 146 Forum Boarium, the, 135 Q.Fufius Calenus, 139 Q.Fulvius Flaccus (pr. 182), 198 Q.Fulvius Lippinus (of Tarquinii), 147, 155 Further Spain, 2, 161, 194 A.Gabinius (leg. 81), 182 A.Gabinius (cos. 85), 120–1, 144, 160 Galatia, 63, 126–8 Galatians, the, 82, 87, 96 Gaul, 194 Gaziura, 120, 123 L.Gellius Publicola (cos. 72), 195 Gordyene, 111, 114–15, 117 Gouras, 119 Gracchi, the, 9, 54, 57 Granicus (Biga), 84 Gratius, 138 Greece, 2, 17–19, 21, 23, 25–6, 28, 63, 150 Greeks, the, 13, 22, 30, 96, 102, 105, 110, 125, 146, 176 Halys (Kizil), 87 Hellespont, the, 84 Heraclea (Policoro), 9–10 Heraclea Pontica (Eregli), 86–7, 93, 97, 112 Hercules, 94, 136, 147, 175 Hermaeus, 84 Hirpini, the, 16

271

L.Hirtuleius, 194 Hither Spain, 2 Q.Hortensius Hortalus, 9, 11, 47, 57, 122, 132, 137, 147, 152, 154, 172 Horti Luculliani, 147 Hydra, the, 115 Hypata, 19 Iberians, the 101 Ilium, 81, 85 Intercatia (Villalpardo), 2 Iris (Yes?il), 88 Isauria, 79 Isogli, 104 Italia, 15 Italy, 1, 15, 37, 42, 51–3, 67, 72, 84–5, 120, 126, 136–7, 145, 148, 155, 179, 194–5, 199 Jove, 160 Julia, 160 Julii Caesares, 1 L.Julius Caesar, 31, 35, 37, 44, 46, 126, 132, 139, 158–62, 167, 174, 180–1, 183, 185–7, 193, 201, 204 Sex. Julius Caesar (cos. 91), 192 C.Junius (iud. quaest. 74), 58, 189 M.Junius Brutus (tyrannicide), 148 M.Junius Juncus (pr. 76), 64–5, 201–2, 204 D.Junius Silanus (cos. 62), 137 Juno, 136, 185 Jupiter, 35 Lampsacus (Lapseki), 79, 82, 84–5, 185 Lanuvium (Lanuvio), 136 Lectum (Baba), 27 Lemnos, 85 Lesbos, 26 Levant, the, 24 Libya, 22 Licinia, 133 Licinii, the, 1

272

Index

M.Licinius Crassus (triumvir), 34, 46, 135, 137, 141, 159–61, 164, 181, 195 L.Licinius Lucullus (cur. aed. 202), 1–2 L.Licinius Lucullus (trib. pleb. 196), 2 L.Licinius Lucullus (cos. 151), 1–3 L.Licinius Lucullus (pr. 104), 3–4 L.Licinius Lucullus (cos. 74) passim L.Licinius Lucullus (son of cos. 74), 134 M.Licinius Lucullus (pr. per. 186), 1 L.Licinius Murena (pr. 88), 29, 31, 34, 62, 77, 125, 182–4, 186–7 L.Licinius Murena (cos. 62), 72, 88, 91–3, 107–8, 134, 136–8, 142, 202 Lopadium (Uluabat), 82 Luculli, the, 1, 3, 5–10, 129–30, 132, 138, 154 Lucullus (mythical), 1 M.Lucullus (cos. 73), 3, 6, 8, 10, 15, 21, 34, 125, 129–30, 132, 134, 164–5, 172, 192 Lusitania, 2 Q.Lutatius Catulus, 11, 39, 41, 45, 47–8, 121–2, 132, 135, 140, 152–3, 160–2, 191 Lycaonia, 103–4, 123 Lycus (Kelkit), 8 Lydia, 19, 79 Macedonia, 18–19, 129, 191–3 Marchares, 87–8, 94 L.Magius, 63, 79–80, 200 Mamercus (leg.), 73, 82 Mancaeus, 107, 109 C.Manilius (trib. pleb. 66), 122, 132 C.Manlius (pr. 72), 195 L.Manlius (pr. 79?), 194 L.Manlius Torquatus (quaest. 88), 29 L.Marcius Philippus (cens. 86), 42, 67–8, 192

Q.Marcius Rex (cos. 68), 115, 122–4, 131 C.Marius (cos. 107), 5–8, 16–17, 57, 74, 139, 148–9, 156, 160, 167, 177 M.Marius (quaest. 76), 63, 77–9, 83–5 Marmara, Sea of, 78, 82 Medea. 112 Medes, the, 108 Media Atropatene, 101 Mediterranean, the, 21, 51, 101, 150 Melos, 144 C.Memmius (trib. pleb. 66), 129–31 L.Memmius (tourist), 24 Memphis, 24 Mesopotamia, 101 Metella (mother of Servilii), 5 Metellii, the, 3, 133 Metrophanes, 79, 82 M.Minucius Thermus, 31, 182, 184–7 Misenum, 148 Mithridates II (Parthia), 116 Mithridates VI Eupator (Pontus), 17, 19, 21, 23, 25–31, 36, 59, 62–6, 72, 74–5, 77, 79–91, 93–4 97–9, 101–4, 106–8, 110, 112–17, 119–20, 122–5, 127, 135, 140, 142, 144, 165, 171, 180, 182–4, 188, 190–2, 194, 199, 203–4 Mithrobarzanes, 106–7 Monte Miseno, 148 Monte di Procida, 148 Mucia, 141 L.Mummius, 2–3, 92, 198 Murenae, the, 1, 184 Mysia, 73, 82–3 Mytilene, 26, 30–1, 43, 74, 177, 183, 185–7 Naples, 10, 148–9 Nemi, 73, 136, 175 Neoptolemus, 27–8 Nervae, the, 1 Nesis (Nisida), 148

Index

Nessus, 136 Nicaea (Iznik), 77, 84, 86 Nicomedeia (Iznit), 85–6 Nicomedes IV (Bithynia), 64, 188–92, 194, 197, 199, 201–2, 204 Nisibis (Nusaybin), 119, 139 Norba, 199 Nuceria, 4 Nysa (of Bithynia), 189 Nyssa (of Pontus), 91 C.Octavius (cos. 76), 47, 56 L.Octavius (adulterer), 130 L.Octavius (cos. 75), 57, 65 Q.Opimius, 57–8 Orchomenus, 26 Otroea, 77 Paeligni, the, 1 Palestine, 11 Pailantia (Palencia), 2 Panormus (Palermo), 9 Paphlagonia, 63–4, 72, 87, 199, 204 C.Papirius Carbo (cos. 82), 197, 199 Paris, 130 Parium (Kemer), 79, 84–5 Parthia, 62, 87, 115–16 Parthians, the, 116–17 Pausias of Sicyon, 147 Peloponnese, the, 19 Perinthus (Erikli), 85 M.Perperna, 194–5 Persephone, 81 Pharmacusa, 201 Pharnacia (Giresun), 91 Phoenicia, 103 Phoenix, 89 Phraates II (Parthia), 115–17 Phrygia, 19, 73, 79, 83, 175 Pincian hill, 147, 155 Piraeus, the, 19 Pisidia, 79 Pisistratus, 81 Pitane (Çandarli), 26 Pompeia, 139

273

Pompeius (leg.), 73, 91 Cn. Pompeius Magnus, 34, 37–48, 51–4, 59–61, 64, 96, 102, 120– 3, 126–8, 130, 133, 135, 137– 8, 140–3, 146–8, 150–1, 153, 157–62, 164, 168–72, 174–5, 178, 180–1, 191, 194–6 Cn. Pompeius Rufus (cos. 88), 192 Pompey see Cn. Pompeius Magnus Pomponius (prefect), 73 T.Pomponius Atticus (friend of Cicero), 9, 11, 144, 153 Pontus, 17, 21, 63–4, 75, 77, 87, 91, 95, 103–4, 107, 112–13, 117, 119–20, 122, 125, 127, 129, 141, 145, 171, 193–4, 204 L.Porcius Cato (cos. 89), 16 M.Porcius Cato (the Censor), 13 M.Porcius Cato (Uticensis), 72, 132–4, 137–8, 141, 143, 161–3 A.Postumius Albinus (cos. 151), 13 A.Postumius Albinus (cos. 99), 183 Praecia, 70–1, 144 Praeneste, 67–8 Prusa (Bursa), 82, 84 Prusias (Cius), 84 Ptolemy Alexander I, 23 Ptolemy Alexander II, 23 Ptolemy Apion, 22, 197 Ptolemy Soter II, 23–5 Puteoli (Pozzuoli), 37, 148 L.Quinctius, 58–9, 61, 64, 115, 121, 162, 170, 172, 189 Rhegium (Reggio Calabria), 10 Rhodes, 19, 25, 201 Rhodians, the, 21 Rhyndacus (Capaz), 82 Romans, the, 1, 4, 7–8, 15, 19, 22–3, 30, 41, 46, 61–2, 64, 77, 88–90, 95, 102–5, 108–10, 112, 119, 144–5, 152, 155, 166, 190, 199, 204 Rome, 1, 6, 7, 9–10, 12, 15, 21– 3, 25, 27, 31–2, 34–5, 37–8, 41, 43–4, 47, 51–4, 57–8, 60–

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Index

4, 66–8, 72, 82, 84–5, 91, 95, 98–9, 102–6, 111–15, 120, 126, 128–9, 131–2, 136, 140, 144, 146–7, 151, 153, 155, 158, 170–2, 175, 177, 183, 185, 190–1, 197–9, 201, 204–5 Rubicon, river, 181 Sabinus, 136 C.Salluvius Naso (leg.), 72, 83 Salvius (Tryphon), 4 Samians, the, 185 Samnites, the, 16 Samos, 185 Samothrace, 86 Sangarius (Sakarya), 77 Sardinia, 41–2, 73 Sarmatians, the, 63, 90 C.Scribonius Curio (cos. 76), 47, 56–7, 194 C.Scribonius Curio (tr. pleb. 50), 158 Scythians, the, 63, 87, 164 Sebasteia Megalopolis (Sivas), 23 Seleucids, the, 96 C.Sempronius Gracchus, 55, 65 L.Sergius Catilina, 44–5, 137–8, 157, 167, 193 Q.Sertorius, 39, 41–6, 51–3, 60, 63–4, 66–7, 79, 87, 119, 167–8, 188, 191–200, 204 Servilia, 133–4 Sevilii, the, 5, 7, 151, 175 Servilius (pr. 88=the Augur?), 77 Servilius the Augur (pr. 88?), 4, 6–7 C.Servilius (pr. 102), 4–5 Q.Servilius Caepio, 133 P.Servilius Vatia Isauricus, 8, 75, 124, 185–6, 194, 198 Sextilius (leg.), 73, 106–7, 116 Sicily, 4–5, 9–10 L.Sicinnius, 56–7 Sinope (Sinop), 87, 93–5, 147 Sophene, 101, 105–6 Sopheni, the, 111 Sornatius (C.Sornatius Barba?), 73, 104

Spain, 2, 39–41, 45, 51–4, 59, 63, 66, 93, 123, 168, 170, 183, 191–6, 198–9 Sparta, 164 Spartacus, 129, 167, 192, 194–5, 199–200 Sthenis, 95 Sulla see L.Cornelius Sulla Sullani, the, 36, 38, 44, 56, 58–60 P.Sulpicius (trib. pleb. 88), 8, 17, 57, 60 Ser. Sulpicius Galba (cos. 144), 2 Ser. Sulpicius Rufus (cos. 51), 137 Synnada, 19, 30 Syria, 12, 21, 101, 111 Talaura, 91, 123 Tarentum (Taranto), 10 Taurians, the, 63 Taurus Mountains, 105, 107, 117–18 Taxiles, 108 Tenedos (Bozcaada), 27, 85, 93 M.Terentius Varro, 8, 11, 150, 161 M.Terentius Varro Lucullus see M.Lucullus Themiscyra (Terme), 88 Thermodon (Terme), river, 88 Thrace, 85, 129, 194 Thracia, 79 Thracians, the, 63, 144 Thyateira (Ak Hisar), 19, 30 Tibareni, the, 88, 91 Tiberius (emperor), 149 Tieium (Filyos), 93 Tigranes, 87, 91, 99, 101–19, 123–4, 135, 176–7, 203 Tigranocerta (Silvan), 99, 105–7, 109–11, 114, 117–18, 155, 175 Tigris, river, 106, 125 Tomisa, 105 Transcaucasia, 101 Triocala (Caltabellota?), 4 Troad, the, 27–8 Tubero (Stoic), 151 M.Tullius Cicero, 6, 8, 11–12, 58 68, 112, 122, 130, 134, 137–8,

Index

140, 144, 146, 148, 152–4, 157–8, 163, 172, 184–6, 188–9, 193–4, 201, 204 M.Tullius Decula (cos. 81), 198 Tusculum (Frascati), 10, 120, 144, 147, 156, 165 Tyrannio, 93–4 Utica, 132 Vaccaei, the, 2 L.Valerius Flaccus (pr. 63), 157–8 C.Valerius Triarius, 73, 84, 86, 87, 93, 119–20, 123–4 P.Varenus, 194 P.Vatinius, 158

Velabrum, the, 2, 135 Venus, 1 C.Verres, 184–6 Vestals, the, 193 Vettius (eques), 3–4 L.Vettius (informer), 158, 162 Via Appia, 49 Via Sacra, 57–8, 135 Voconii, the, 73 C.(?) Voconius (leg.), 73, 86 Volaterrae, 185 Xerxes, 150–1 Zarbienus, 111 Zela, 123

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