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Arthur Keaveney - Lucullus - A Life (Classical Lives) (2003, Routledge - Taylor & Francis E-Library)

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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 99
VII The life of a sponge? 129
VIII ‘…retired Leisure
that in trim gardens takes his pleasure’ 143
IX Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 166
Appendix 1: Asia 81–79 182
Appendix 2: When did the Third Mithridatic
War begin? 188
Notes 206
Bibliography 261
Index 268

vii
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 evil-
doing 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 drawing-
room. 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
14 Lucullus

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 Lucullus

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
Master and pupil 17

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
18 Lucullus

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.
Master and pupil 19

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
Master and pupil 21

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,
22 Lucullus

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
Master and pupil 23

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
24 Lucullus

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.
Master and pupil 25

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
26 Lucullus

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
Master and pupil 27

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 battle-
lines 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
28 Lucullus

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
Master and pupil 29

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
30 Lucullus

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
Master and pupil 31

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
The politic man 33

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
34 Lucullus

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
The politic man 35

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
36 Lucullus

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
The politic man 37

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
38 Lucullus

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,
The politic man 39

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
40 Lucullus

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
The politic man 41

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
42 Lucullus

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 high-
minded 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
The politic man 43

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
44 Lucullus

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. Ever-
present 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
The politic man 45

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
46 Lucullus

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
The politic man 47

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
48 Lucullus

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 wedding-
day 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
The politic man 49

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.
50 Lucullus

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
52 Lucullus

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
The consulship 53

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
54 Lucullus

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
The consulship 55

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
56 Lucullus

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
The consulship 57

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.
58 Lucullus

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
The consulship 59

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 mild-
mannered 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
60 Lucullus

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
The consulship 61

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
62 Lucullus

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
The consulship 63

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.
64 Lucullus

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
The consulship 65

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 dim-
witted, 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,
66 Lucullus

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 second-
rater 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
The consulship 67

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
68 Lucullus

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
The consulship 69

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
70 Lucullus

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
The consulship 71

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
72 Lucullus

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.
The consulship 73

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
74 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 77

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
78 Lucullus

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 well-
stocked 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
The war with Mithridates 79

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
80 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 81

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.
82 Lucullus

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 crossing-
point of the Rhyndacus (Capaz) river. Falling upon them, he slew
a great number and captured besides many men and baggage-
animals 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
The war with Mithridates 83

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
84 Lucullus

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 already-
over-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
The war with Mithridates 85

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
86 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 87

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 counter-
part, 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
88 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 89

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
90 Lucullus

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, long-
starved 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
The war with Mithridates 91

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
92 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 93

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
94 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 95

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
96 Lucullus

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
The war with Mithridates 97

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.
98 Lucullus

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-in-
law 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
The war with Tigranes 101

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
102 Lucullus

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 empty-
handed: 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
The war with Tigranes 103

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
104 Lucullus

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 pre-
emptive 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
The war with Tigranes 105

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
106 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 107

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.
108 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 109

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
110 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 111

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
112 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 113

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
114 Lucullus

report come slow or fast, be it full or skimpy, it is ever at the


mercy of the professional or amateur commentator. The barber-
shop 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.
The war with Tigranes 115

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
116 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 117

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
118 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 119

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
120 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 121

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.
122 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 123

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
124 Lucullus

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
The war with Tigranes 125

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
126 Lucullus

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.
The war with Tigranes 127

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
128 Lucullus

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 some-
what 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
130 Lucullus

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
The life of a sponge? 131

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
132 Lucullus

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.
The life of a sponge? 133

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
134 Lucullus

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
The life of a sponge? 135

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 scythe-
bearing 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
136 Lucullus

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
The life of a sponge? 137

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
138 Lucullus

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,
The life of a sponge? 139

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
140 Lucullus

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
The life of a sponge? 141

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
142 Lucullus

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
144 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 145

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 bird-
run. 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
146 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 147

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 over-
took 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
148 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 149

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
150 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 151

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
152 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 153

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
154 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 155

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
156 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 157

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
158 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 159

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 hit-
list 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
160 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 161

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
162 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 163

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.
164 Lucullus

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
‘…retired Leisure 165

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 167

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
168 Lucullus

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 169

contemporary alterations in the courts, this represents the re-


introduction 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
170 Lucullus

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 171

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
172 Lucullus

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 173

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
174 Lucullus

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 re-
think 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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 175

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,
176 Lucullus

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 177

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 debt-
burden 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,
178 Lucullus

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 179

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
180 Lucullus

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
Lucius Licinius Lucullus and his age 181

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: Murena governor of Asia.
81: Ordered to desist from making war on Mithridates, Murena
goes home to celebrate a triumph. He is replaced as governor
by M.Minucius Thermus.
80: Thermus, possibly with the aid of Lucullus, captures Mytilene.
Both then return home. C.Claudius Nero arrives as governor.
79: 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.
182
Appendix 1 183

(c) 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
184 Appendix 1

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
Appendix 1 185

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
186 Appendix 1

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
Appendix 1 187

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

188
Appendix 2 189

(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)
190 Appendix 2

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
Appendix 2 191

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
192 Appendix 2

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


Appendix 2 193

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
194 Appendix 2

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
Appendix 2 195

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
196 Appendix 2

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
Appendix 2 197

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
198 Appendix 2

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 mopping-
up remained which did not take long (BC 1.115). He also tells us that
Appendix 2 199

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.
200 Appendix 2

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.
Appendix 2 201

(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.
202 Appendix 2

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
Appendix 2 203

‘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.
204 Appendix 2

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
Appendix 2 205

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

206
Notes 207

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). Self-
evidently this squares with a birth-date in 118 but not one in 117.
4 MRR 1.559 and van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 11–12. For some further
observations on Roman elections see ch. III.
5 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.
6 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.
7 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.
8 This is certain (cf. n. 16) even if there is disagreement as to when
the Luculli made their first move (cf. n. 9).
9 Gruen (1968) p. 178; contra Badian (1984b) p. 306.
10 Cic. Post Red. ad Quir. 6, Post Red. in Senatu 37. For Metellus’ exile
see Greenidge and Clay pp. 105–7.
208 Notes

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).
15 Plut. Luc. 1: which has given rise to a number
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.
Plutarch uses by itself in the sense of ‘harm, do wrong’,
Notes 209

(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.
16 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.
17 So Quint. 12.7.3–4. See Cic. De Offic. 2.49–50 for the
circumstances that justified such a prosecution.
18 Plut. Luc. 1 with Gruen (1968) pp. 6–7; Epstein (1987) pp. 90–2.
19 It was one of the types of prosecution that Cicero (n. 17) deemed
honourable.
20 Epstein (1987) p. 93; Hinard (1980).
21 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.
22 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.
23 Athen. 6.274f, 12.543a with the remarks of Scardigli (1989) p. 293.
24 Shackleton Bailey (1976) p. 132; Hopkins (1983) pp. 49, 194–5.
25 van Ooteghem (1959) p. 17; Villoresi (1939) p. 33; Antonelli (1989)
pp. 8–9 seems to misunderstand the situation.
26 Shackleton Bailey (1965) pp. 7–8.
27 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.
28 See further ch. III.
29 On this topic see Boyancé (1956); Horsfall (1979); Crawford (1978)
210 Notes

pp. 197–202; Petrochilos (1974) pp. 23–33; Rawson (1985) pp. 1–18;
and further n. 55.
30 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.
31 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.
32 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.
33 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.
34 Cic. Pro Arch. 5–6.
35 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 Sherwin-
White (1973) pp. 151–2 and Keaveney (1987) pp. 170–1.
36 Cic. Pro Arch. 9–11 with Reid (1899) p. 45.
37 On this man see RE ‘Antiochus’ no. 62 and Dillon (1977) pp. 52–106.
38 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.
Notes 211

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.
212 Notes

2 Plut. Luc. 2; ILS 60; Polyb. 6.19.1. For length of service and its non-
fulfilment 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
Notes 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.
12 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.
13 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.
14 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.
15 Greenidge and Clay p. 118, cf. Bevan (1927) p. 332; Romanelli
(1943) pp. 13–24; Laronde (1989) pp. 1006–11.
16 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.
17 See further ch. IV and app. 2.
18 Laronde (1989) p. 1011, contra Romanelli (1943) p. 44.
19 Plut. Luc. 2. In my view Sherwin-White (1984) p. 140 n. 35
underestimates the difficulties Lucullus faced. Antonelli (1989) p. 56
is unconvincing.
20 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
speaks of a which might be a formal foedus amicitiae. It
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.
Despite Plutarch, Soter was not a (van Ooteghem p.
28 n. 1) and he lived long enough to discover he had made a
mistake on this occasion.
21 See further in text and next note.
22 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 Notes

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).
23 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.
24 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.
25 Plut. Luc. 3; App. Mith. 25; Greenidge and Clay p. 179. See
Keaveney (1983d) p. 231.
26 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.
27 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.
28 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.
29 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.
30 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 110–17, 229–33.
31 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 215

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.
32 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.
33 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).
34 Keaveney (1983d) p. 230.
35 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).
36 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 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.
9 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.
10 MRR 2.86; Keaveney (1983d) p. 173.
11 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).
12 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.
13 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.
14 Plut. Luc. 4—a passage that well illustrates Plutarch’s often under-
valued 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.
15 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.
16 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.
17 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
Notes 217

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).
18 Cic. Acad. 2.1; De Vir. Ill. 74. Plutarch’s silence probably indicates he
found nothing to report.
19 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.
20 MRR 2.89, 91. See also ch. IV n. 71.
21 Plut. Pomp. 16; Cic. Leg. Man. 62. On the qualms see further below.
22 Twyman (1972) pp. 843–4 although the prosopographical argument
is dubious.
23 Cic. Acad. 2.1–2, cf. Schol. Gron. p. 320 St.
24 See the remarks of Seager (1979) pp. 187–8.
25 A glance at the careers of the other consuls of the 70s will make
this clear.
26 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.
27 Keaveney (1983d) p. 182; Hinard (1985) pp. 87–100, 152–212;
Paterson (1985) p. 25.
28 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 210–11; MRR 2.88.
29 Gelzer (1968) pp. 20–1, 37–8.
30 See Rawson (1983) pp. 60–88.
31 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.
32 Seager (1979) pp. 186–8.
33 For two other examples see ch. IV and Keaveney (1981b) pp. 202–12.
34 Seager (1979) pp. 16–17, 22–7, 61, 72–3.
35 Keaveney (1982d); Seager (1979) pp. 8–13.
36 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.
37 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.
38 Seager (1979) pp. 23, 28.
39 Opposition in the senate to the lex Gabinia was ‘almost universal’,
cf. Seager (1979) p. 33.
218 Notes

40 Seager (1979) pp. 72–82.


41 MRR 2.100.
42 Seager (1979) pp. 33–5.
43 See ch. IV.
44 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.
45 Plut. Luc. 1, cf. the speakers in Cic. Acad.; Seager (1979) p. 165;
Keaveney (1983d) p. 210.
46 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.
47 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.
48 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.
49 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.
50 Gelzer (1969) pp. 110–12 and Taylor (1949) pp. 67–8. Note also
what was said above (pp. 34–6) about the aedileship.
51 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.
52 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.
Notes 219

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.
220 Notes

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 221

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.
28 See Burckhardt (1988) pp. 159–77.
29 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.
30 Keaveney (1981b) pp. 200–1.
31 App. Mith. 67. On senatorial practice with regard to embassies see
now Bonnefond-Coudry (1989) pp. 294–320.
32 Keaveney (1983d) p. 105, where an attempt is made to justify Sulla’s
action.
33 Or at least Sallust (Ep. Mith. 13) portrays him doing so.
34 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.
35 See ch. II.
36 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).
37 App. Mith. 69–70; MRR 2.98 with app. 2, especially the section on
Appian (v) and the general conclusion.
38 Contra Twyman (1972) pp. 854–5, cf. Gruen (1974) p. 124.
39 See ch. III n. 44.
40 Sherwin-White (1984) p. 163.
41 Plut. Luc. 5–6.
42 See below.
43 Note what Plutarch has to say in Luc. 6.
44 See below.
45 See ch. V.
222 Notes

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 223

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.
58 Scardigli (1989) p. 350 n. 74.
59 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.
60 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.
61 To the selection of views in van Ooteghem (1959) p. 54 n. 6 add
now Balsdon (1974) p. 53 and Seager (1979) p. 19.
62 Dixon (1983); Wiseman (1987) pp. 39–45; Balsdon (1974) pp. 45–62;
Gardner (1986) pp. 204–65.
63 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.’
64 MRR 2.101; app. 2 on Cicero; ch. V.
65 Willems (1968) 2 pp. 608–9.
66 For an illustration of a political staff see Badian (1964) pp. 52–5 but
note the different analysis of Keaveney (1987) pp. 208–9.
67 MRR 2.547. See ch. III.
68 Plut. Cat. Min. 19 with MRR 2.140, 142 n. 10 and Greenidge
(1911) p. 324.
69 MRR 2.581. For the view that Lucullus and Murena may have been
related see ch. V.
70 MRR 2.105; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 63; ch. III.
71 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.
72 MRR 2.134; Wiseman (1971) p. 259.
73 MRR 2.105; Magie (1950) 2 p. 1208 n. 15.
74 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.
75 MRR 2.129. Possibly an L.Marcius. Crawford (1974) no. 363
224 Notes

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 ill-
discipline (Plut. Luc. 7) and would also square ill with Sherwin-
White’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.
Notes 225

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: Sherwin-
White 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.
226 Notes

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; Sherwin-
White (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 227

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.
28 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.
29 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.
30 Plut. Luc. 12; App. Mith. 76. See Gelzer col. 388 and Keaveney
(1983d) p. 230.
31 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.
32 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.
33 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.
34 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.
228 Notes

64. Cicero’s fulsome language surely fits best with a victory


announced in this fashion.
35 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
he and Cotta beseiged Nicomedeia (Memnon 29.1) we
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.
36 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.
37 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.
38 Not strictly true (see above) but the context would hardly lead us
to expect a pedantic concern with accuracy.
39 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
Notes 229

(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.
40 Magie (1950) 2 p. 1211 n. 26 and previous note.
41 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.
42 Plut. Luc. 15; App. Mith. 80; Sall. Hist. 4.5M.
43 In keeping with the spirit of the age Lucullus favoured lighter
punishments, cf. Keaveney (1984a) pp. 357–63.
44 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.
45 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.
46 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.
230 Notes

Hist. 4.12M. Pompeius: ch. IV. Pharnacia: van Ooteghem (1959) p.


98 n. 1; Scardigli (1989) p. 395 n. 227.
47 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.
48 Cf. the reports above (n. 39).
49 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.
50 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; Sherwin-
White (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.
51 Memnon 32–5 (Jacoby 3B pp. 360–4). See n. 36 and ch. VI n. 23.
The of Memnon 33 following from a narrative (32) of
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.
52 Memnon 35.7 and 36.1 (Jacoby 3B pp. 363–4).
53 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.
54 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.
55 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 231

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.
56 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.
57 Plut. Luc. 23; App. Mith. 3.
58 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.
59 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.
232 Notes

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 233

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
234 Notes

(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.
2 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.
3 Plut. Luc. 21; Memnon 31.2 (Jacoby 3B p. 360). Cf. Reinach (1895)
pp. 343–4.
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.
5 Magie (1950) 1 pp. 338–9; Eckhardt (1909) pp. 403–10; Keaveney
(1983d) p. 39.
6 Plut. Luc. 23. See Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 173, 175–6.
7 Plut. Luc. 21 with Magie (1950) 1 p. 339; Sherwin-White (1984) p.
175; Keaveney (1981b) pp. 202–9.
8 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.
9 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.
10 Tigranes’ aggression: Plut. Luc. 23; Memnon 38.1 (Jacoby 3B p. 365).
Interpretation: Magie (1950) 2 p. 1215 n. 4; McGing (1986) p. 153.
11 See Sherwin-White (1984) p. 176; Reinach (1895) p. 351.
12 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.
13 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 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.
14 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.
15 See Syme (1988) pp. 245–51.
16 Plut. Luc. 24–5; App. Mith. 84; Liv. Ep. 98. See Sherwin-White
(1984) pp. 177–8.
17 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
where the concubines were lodged as a Appian’s description of
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.
18 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
236 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.
19 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.
20 Plut. Luc, 28.
21 App. Mith. 87; Plut. Luc. 29; Dio 36.1.1; Memnon 38.7 (Jacoby 3B
p. 366). See Eckhardt (1909) pp. 195–7.
22 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.
23 Magie (1950) 2 p. 1215 n. 39. Cf. ch. V n. 51.
24 Cic. Leg. Man. 22—the conceit is defended rather shamefacedly by
Schol. Gron. pp. 318–19 St. See ch. V.
25 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.
26 See, for example, van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 117–18 and Sherwin-
White (1984) pp. 174–5.
27 See ch. V.
28 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.
29 Cic. Leg. Man. 4, 39.
30 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.
31 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 237

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.
32 Plut. Luc. 33; Sal. Hist. 4.71M; cf. Schol. Gron. p. 321 St. See Seager
(1979) p. 30 and Gruen (1974) pp. 134–5.
33 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.
34 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.
35 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.
36 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.
37 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.
38 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
238 Notes

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.
39 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.
40 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.
41 Cic. Leg. Man. 23–4. Cf. Williams (1984) p. 231.
42 MRR 2.144–5.
43 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.
44 I follow Seager (1979) p. 32. Different views will be found in, e.g.,
Williams (1984) and Sherwin-White (1984) pp. 187–8.
45 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 239

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.
46 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).
47 Curiously few modern historians emphasize this point.
48 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.
49 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.
50 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).
51 See ch. III.
52 Sherwin-White (1984) p. 187 and Keaveney (1983d) p. 171.
53 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
240 Notes

nobody else, in a notoriously mutinous army, seems to have been


called to account either.
54 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.
55 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.
56 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.
57 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.
58 So, e.g. Villoresi (1939) p. 168 after Ferrero.
59 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 88–9.
60 Plut. Luc. 33.
61 Plut. Luc. 33, 36. Cf. Scardigli (1989) pp. 272–3.
62 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.
63 On the courts see Gruen (1974) pp. 28–35.
Notes 241

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
242 Notes

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.
12 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).
13 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.
14 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.
15 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.
16 Sources and discussion in Hinard (1985) pp. 528–31, repeated
virtually verbatim in (1990), who separates Lucullus jun. from his
Notes 243

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.
17 Since Lucullus’ arch-foe Memmius was probably one of them (n. 6)
the degree of self-restraint must have been considerable.
18 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’.
19 MRR 2.169; Rawson (1983) pp. 44–59, 69; Seager (1979) pp. 56–62;
Taylor (1949) p. 118.
20 ILS 560.
21 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.
22 Pliny NH 34.93 with Jex-Blake and Sellers (1896) p. 79.
23 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.
24 Coarelli (1987) pp. 155–7, 178–80 with the important qualificatory
remarks of Wiseman, Gnomon (1989) pp. 278–9.
25 Keaveney (1983d) pp. 190–1.
26 Cic. Pro Mur. 37–9, 53, 69, Ad Att. 13.6.4. See Gruen (1974) pp.
129–30 and Rawson (1983) pp. 69–71.
27 Taylor (1949) p. 126.
28 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.
29 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
244 Notes

(1977b) pp. 187–91 who points out the trial is to be dated after
8th November but before 3rd December.
30 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.
31 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.
32 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.
33 Seager (1979) pp. 46–55; Keaveney (1981b) pp. 202–12; Reinach
(1895) pp. 389–410.
34 Seager (1979) pp. 72–9; Taylor (1949) pp. 130, 226 n. 45.
35 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.
36 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.
37 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.
38 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.
39 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.
Notes 245

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.
246 Notes

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 247

could, one supposes, just about be stretched to cover


work here.
25 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.
26 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.
27 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.
28 Varro RR 3.3.10, 17.2–9. See D’Arms (1970) pp. 41–2.
29 Vell. Pat. 2.33.4; Pliny NH 9.170; Herod. 7.22–4.
30 Actually this is explicitly spelt out in one story: see n. 70.
31 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.
32 So Villoresi (1939) p. 192 and Scardigli (1989) p. 440 n. 545.
33 Cf. Jolivet (1987) p. 875 n. 2 and Scardigli (1989) pp. 290–1.
34 3.30–1.
35 Ad Att. 1.13.2.
36 ibid., 1.18.6. Cf. Varro RR 3.9.10 and Macrob. Sat. 3.15.6.
37 Ad Att, 2.1.7.
38 See ch. VII.
39 Ad Att. 1.19.6, 1.20.3.
40 The reputation of Sulla is a good example.
41 2.33.4.
42 Con. 9.2.19.
43 See n. 8.
44 Apologeticus 11.8.
45 6.274E-F; 12.543A.
46 See end of ch. VII and further below.
47 De Vir. Ill. 74.
48 Compare 22.8.16 with 23.5.16.
49 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.
50 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 Notes

Plutarch’s preconception of the character (Luc. 39). For some further


perceptive observation on Plutarch’s distortions see Scardigli (1989)
pp. 288–93.
51 See Keaveney and Madden (forthcoming).
52 (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.
53 Varro RR 3.3.10 with Jolivet (1987) p. 878 n. 15.
54 D’Arms (1970) pp. 6, 41; van Ooteghem (1959) pp. 189 n. 2, 192 n.
2; Grimal (1969) pp. 7–10.
55 Mith. 84.
56 See McCracken (1942) p. 325.
57 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.
58 As Plutarch, in his way, saw: see Luc. 38.
59 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.
60 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.
61 See further below.
62 Note what was said about Crassus in ch. VI.
63 See ch. VI. Lucullus, of course, must have been aware of Caesar’s
activities in Asia in 74, cf. app. 2.
64 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.
65 App. BC 2.9.
66 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 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.
67 (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 arch-
Sullan 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.
68 Plut. Camp. Cim./Luc. 1; Gelzer (1968) p. 84.
69 Cic. Ad. Att. 2.21.2, 25.2.
70 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.
71 Plut. Luc. 43, Mor. 792B-C; De Vir. Ill 74; Pliny NH 25.25.
72 Herod. 6.84.
73 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.
74 Pliny NH 25.25 and see what was said about Ovid in n. 73.
75 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.
76 Suet. Cal. 50; Eusebius, Hieronymi Chronicon p. 149 Helm.
77 Bennett (1972).
78 Plut. Luc. 43 with Scardigli (1989) p. 498 n. 565; Keaveney (1983d)
p. 212; van Ooteghem (1959) p. 199 n. 1.
250 Notes

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 251

(1979) pp. 36–7, brings out the transitional nature of the age. Old
and new subsist together.
24 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.
25 Brunt (1988) pp. 253–6.
26 Smith (1958) pp. 44–58; Gabba (1976) p. 39.
27 Ch. VI.
28 See Sallust’s sour comment on Roman soldiers and foreign women
(Cat. 11.6).
29 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.
30 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).
31 Plut. Luc. 34.
32 Although he seems to deny it, the other instances gathered by
Brunt (1988) pp. 268–9 appear to support this thesis.
33 Plut. Tib. Gracch. 9.
34 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 well-
to-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
252 Notes

interpretation of Augustus’ cash donative of 13 is that he recognized


that soldiers did not always make good farmers.
35 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.
36 Cf. App. BC 4.123, Iber. 85.
37 It is worth remarking, perhaps, that this is strangely at variance with
his ability to woo the plebs.
38 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 253

18 Cf. Keaveney (1984a) pp. 119–21.


19 See Badian (1983) pp. 156–71 and Sumner (1973) pp. 113–14.
20 As will be made clear shortly, the siege of Mytilene was not a reason.
21 Cf. MRR 3.106.
22 MRR 2.76, 80, 81.
23 Jashemski (1950) p. 147.
24 2 Verr. 1.41–102.
25 ibid., 1.50.
26 ibid., 1.63–76.
27 Lic. 32F.
28 See app. 2 for some further remarks on the epitome.
29 MRR 2.81; Magie (1950) 2 p. 1124 n. 41.
30 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.
31 MRR 2.78.
32 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.
33 Keaveney (1984a) pp. 128, 140. For Caesar and Servilius see below.
34 Suet. Div. Jul. 2.
35 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.
36 Suet. Div. Jul. 3, with MRR 2.87.
37 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.
38 Keaveney (1984a) p. 142; Gelzer (1968) pp. 22–3.
39 Cic. 2 Verr. 1.77, 95–7.

APPENDIX 2: WHEN DID THE THIRD MITHRIDATIC


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

6 Compare, e.g., Pro Mur. 88.


7 Cf. Pro Cluentio 90.
8 Ch. I n. 14.
9 McGing (1984) p. 15.
10 Cf. MRR 2.109 n. 6.
11 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.
12 Cf., e.g., Braund (1984) p. 135 and the section on Livy below.
13 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.
14 Cf, e.g., McGing (1984) pp. 15–16.
15 For him see the section on Velleius Paterculus below.
16 Maurenbrecher places it before Mithridates’ negotiations with Sertorius
(Hist. 2.78, 79M) and Curio’s activities in Macedonia (Hist. 2.80M).
17 For a discussion of the phenomenon of royal wills see Braund
(1984) pp. 129–39.
18 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.
19 Keeping in mind, of course, that his chances of success were slim.
20 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!
21 See also n. 91.
22 See McGing (1984) pp. 14–15.
23 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.
24 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.
25 The rest of the sentence et…redactae could be pressed to mean the
war continued after Sertorius’ death. See below. On the pro-
magistrates of 78 see MRR 2.86–7.
26 For all of these see Samuel (1972) pp. 249–53.
27 Further examples are given in den Boer’s study (1972 pp. 124–37).
28 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 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.
29 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.
30 2.4.1.
31 5.6.1, 6.7.1, 6.18.1.
32 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.
33 Cf. MRR 2.114.
34 Plut. Cat. Min. 19 strongly suggests acquittal.
35 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.
36 Cf. Keaveney (1987) p. 160 and (1983a) p. 280 n. 2.
37 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.
38 MRR 2.87.
39 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.
40 MRR 3.163.
41 MRR 2.99.
42 As Spann (1987) pp. 117–18 points out, the disappointing campaigns
of 76 must have given rise to disaffection in Sertorius’ ranks and
256 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.
43 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.
44 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.
45 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.
46 For these events see ch. V.
47 Position would seem to indicate 73 since we have had already a
Spanish notice for 74 and the next notice is for 73.
48 This picks up Ep. 92, cf. MRR 2.112.
49 MRR 2.109–10, 115 n. 1.
50 Since Lucullus was cos. 74 then logically this refers to 73.
51 MRR 2.116–17.
52 For a discussion of this date see text below.
53 MRR 2.117, 3.120, 135.
54 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.
55 For yet another perspective see the section on Appian below.
56 On this term see Scardigli (1971) p. 264.
57 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.
58 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.
59 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 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.
60 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.
61 It will be found in Gabba (1956) pp. 89–101.
62 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
precision in phrases such as which a further survey
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.
63 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.
64 See, e.g., Hann. 35, Iber. 48, 67, BC 1.103 with Gabba (1956) p. 100.
65 Plut. Luc. 5; Sall. Hist. 2.98M. See ch. IV.
66 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.
67 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.
68 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.
69 See, e.g., Gabba (1967) p. 307; Oost (1963) p. 20.
70 Appian’s other uses of Olympiad dating: BC 1.84, 99, Gall. 2.1, Iber.
4, 38, 42, Lib. 67, 135, Mith. 17, 53.
71 See BC 2.48, 54, 149, 3.50, 5.34, 97.
72 For possible solutions that Appian does not seem to have adopted
see Bickerman (1968).
73 A view not contradicted, as we saw, by the references to bequests
and reinforcements.
74 See Gabba (1967) pp. 307–9 and Bickerman’s table of equivalences
(1968).
258 Notes

75 Keaveney (1982d) p. 125 and further below.


76 Cf. Matthews (1979).
77 MRR 2.74.
78 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.
79 MRR 2.79–82.
80 See Matthews (1979) pp. 241–2.
81 MRR 1.382.
82 Lib. 135.
83 MRR 1.467, 470.
84 Gabba’s guess, (1967) p. 307, of a ‘manuale di cronologia’ is as good
as any.
85 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.
86 BC 1.65. See especially BC 1.86 (with Gabba 1967 p. 227), 94, 108
and also Iber. 101.
87 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
118 when we are told it was For other examples of
inclusive reckoning see Sic. 2.2, Hann. 60, BC 1.76, 2.19.
88 BC 1.94–7 with Gabba (1967) pp. 250–62 and Keaveney (1982d) p.
125. Note also Eutrop. 5.9.
89 See above.
90 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.
91 So I interpret the reference to in Italy. References of
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 259

92 Mith. 69–70, 72. See Holmes (1923) p. 399.


93 MRR 3.121.
94 See section (v) above.
95 MRR 2.118, 3.121–3.
96 See above, on Livy.
97 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.
98 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.
99 Ch. IV; Sherwin-White (1984) p. 163; McGing (1984) p. 15 n. 12;
MRR 2.106; Balsdon (1939) pp. 57–65.
100 Sources and fundamental discussion in Ward (1977a) whose views
on the relations of these sources to each other are here followed.
101 Suet. Div. Jul. 4; Vell. Pat. 2.41.3; Plut. Caes. 1.
102 For the name see Ward (1977a) pp. 26–9.
103 Vell. Pat. 2.42.1–3; Suet. Div. Jul. 4; Plut. Caes. 2.
104 Suet. Div. Jul. 4. See ch. V.
105 Vell. Pat. 2.43.1–3. See MRR 2.113.
106 MRR 2.98; Gelzer (1968) p. 24.
107 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.
108 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.
109 McGing (1984) p. 12. See App. Mith. 76, 78, 79; Plut. Luc. 11, 15,
33 and ch. V.
110 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.
111 McGing (1984) p. 12.
112 See Keaveney (1987) p. 160 n. 9 and Samuel (1972) pp. 189–94.
113 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 Sherwin-
White (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 Antiochus XIII (Seleucid), 111


Achaeans, Harbour of the, 85 M.Antonius, 69
M’. Acilius Glabrio, 40, 120–2, Apamea, 84, 86
124, 126, 151, 162, 174, 180 Aphnitis, Lake, 81
Adiabeni, the, 108 Aphrodite, 85
Adrasteia, 79 Apollo Room, 146–7
Aegean, the, 80, 85, 87 Apollonia, 82
C.Aelius Staienus, 69 Aqua Virgo, 147
M.Aemilius Lepidus (cos. 78), 38– M’.Aquillius (leg. 88), 30
9, 41–5, 56–7, 62, 67, 73, 160, Arabs, the, 107
167–8, 191, 194, 196 Arausio (Orange), 108
Mam. Aemilius Lepidus Livianus Arcesilaus, 147
(cos. 77), 35, 47–8, 73, 132 Archelaus, 19, 77, 80
Aesepus (Gönen), 84 Archias, 9–10, 138, 176
L.Afranius, 142, 159, 162 Arctonnesus (Kapidag), 78
Africa, 38, 40–2, 47, 53, 189 Arctonoros, 78–9
Agamemnon, 130 Aricia (Ariccia), 73, 105
Albanians, the, 101 Aristion, 92
S.Albius Oppianicus (Larinum), Aristonicus, 83, 190
58, 69 Armenia, 87, 91, 99, 101, 103,
Alexander the Paphlagonian, 85 106, 110–14, 116–17, 119, 123,
Alexandria, 11, 21, 23–4 125, 131, 203
Allobroges, the, 138 Armenians, the, 107–8, 118
Amasia (Amasya), 93, 95 Q.Arrius, 195
Amastris (Amasra), 93 Arsanias, river, 118
Amisus (Samsun), 87–8, 91–4, 96, Artaxata (Artashat), 110, 118
99, 119, 126, 176, 202–3 Artemis (Persian) see Anahita
Anahita (Persian Artemis), 107, Asia, 17, 25–6, 28–30, 33–4, 38,
136, 175 42–3, 53, 64–6, 72, 75, 78–9,
Andriscus, 198 82, 86–8, 93, 95–6, 98–9,
Antioch in Syria, 10, 102 113–15, 120–2, 134, 155, 157,
Antiochus of Ascalon, 11–12, 159, 175–8, 182–5, 187,
21–2, 24, 110, 142 189–91, 194, 200–1
Antiochus (Commagene), 111 Astacenus, 86

268
Index 269

Athena, 81 Q.Caecilius Metellus Numidicus


Athenians, the, 133 (cos. 109), 3, 56
Athens, 11, 19, 25, 92, 147 Q.Caecilius Metellus Pius, 39, 52,
Athos, Mount, 150 132, 160, 191, 194–5, 198–9
Atropateni, the, 118 Caesar see C.Julius Caesar
Attalids, the, 96 Calacte (Caronia Marina), 9
Cn. Aufidius Orestes Calgurris, 194
(cos. 71), 192 Callimachus, 91–2, 94, 119
C.Aurelius Cotta (cos. 75), 57–9, Callisthenes, 164
170, 201–2 M.Calpurnius Bibulus, 158, 161–2
L.Aurelius Cotta (pr. 70), 65 Calvi, the, 1
M.Aurelius Cotta (cos. 74) 48, 51, Calycadnos (Göksu), 24
65–6, 69, 71–2, 75, 77, 86–7, Campus Martius, the, 135, 165
93, 112, 188–9, 192, 194, 196, Capitol, the, 135
202, 204–5 Cappadocia, 63, 75, 90, 99,
Autolycus, 94–5, 147 104–5, 125
Capua, 3–4
Baiae, 148 Caria, 25
Banghazi, 22 Carthage, 198
Barba (Cassius Barba?), 73, 84 Caspian, sea, 101
Billarus, 95, 147 C.Cassius Longinus (cos. 73),
Bithynia, 63–6, 70, 72, 75, 77, 82, 195, 201
111, 120, 122, 124, 126, 186, Cauca (Coca), 2
190, 194, 197, 199, 201–2, Celtiberi, the, 2
204–5 Censorinus (praef.), 73
Bithynians, the, 191 Chaeroneia, 18, 26
Boeotia, 18 Chaeroneians, the, 18–19
Bona Dea, 138, 160, 163 Chalcedon (Üsküdar), 75, 77–8,
Bosporus, the, 87 84–6, 188
A.Braetius Sura, 18–19 Chalcis, 19, 28
Busbaleius, 56 Chaldaei (=Calybes), the, 88, 91
Byzantium, 86 Chersonesus (Gallipoli), 28
Chios, 26
Cabira, 87, 89, 112, 119, 126, Cicero see M.Tullius Cicero
202–3 Cilicia, 24, 29, 65–6, 70, 75, 101,
Caecilia Metella, 3, 9 103–4, 115, 122–4, 184, 186,
Q.Caecilius (uncle of Atticus), 191, 193–4, 201
9, 144 Cilicians, the, 21
L.Caecilius Metellus Calvus Cinnans, the, 39
(cos. 142), 3 Circus Flaminius, the, 135
Q.Caecilius Metellus Celer, Circus Maximus, the, 135
141–2, 160 Cisalpine Gaul, 53, 66, 201
Q.Caecilius Metellus Creticus, 57, Claudii, the, 48–9, 103
131, 141 C.Claudius Nero, 31, 182, 184–7
L.Caecilius Metellus Delmaticus Claudius Pulcher (=C.Claudius
(cos. 119), 3 Glaber), 194
Q.Caecilius Metellus Macedonicus, App. Claudius Pulcher (cos. 79),
198 48–9, 194, 198
270 Index

App. Claudius Pulcher (cos. 54), Cretans, the, 21


48–9, 72, 98, 102–6, 111, 203 Crete, 24, 131
C.Claudius Pulcher, 48 Crimea, 94
Cleochares, 94 Crixus, 195
Cleomenes, King, 164 Cybele, 35, 78
Clodia (Lesbia?), 48 Cyprus, 24, 54, 63, 163
Clodia (wife of Lucullus cos. 74), Cyrenaeans, the, 22–3
48–50, 124, 133–4 Cyrene, 22, 54, 197
Clodia Tertia, 48, 115, 124 Cyziceans, the, 80–1, 83–4
P.Clodius Pulcher, 49, 72, 122, Cyzicus, 78, 80–1, 84, 93, 188,
124, 133, 139, 142, 163, 178 192, 194, 199–200, 202, 204
Clunia, 194
Cnidians, the, 25 Dadasa, 123
Cnidus (Tekir), 25 Dalmatia, 193
Coans, the, 25 Damagoras, 27
Colophon (Degirmendere), 25 Damon, 18–19
Comana, 91, 119–20 Danala, 127
P.Considius Longus, 183 Dardanelles, the, 28
Corinth, 92, 198 Dardanus (Mal Tepe, S?ehitlik
Cornelia (mother of Gracchi), 9 Batarya), 28, 61, 87, 204
Cornelia (Sulla’s daughter), 149 Darnah, 22
Cornelii, the, 54 Deiotarus, 82, 194
C.Cornelius (trib. pleb. 67), Denizkent, 84
132, 135 Diana, 73, 105, 136, 175
P.Cornelius Cethegus, 67–71, 170 Dindymon, 78, 82–3
L.Cornelius Cinna, 27, 67–8, Diodes, 87
167, 199 Dionysius the Eunuch, 85
Cn. Cornelius Dolabella (cos. 81), Diophantes, 75
47, 198 M.Domitius Calvinus (pr. 80),
Cn. Cornelius Dolabella (pr. 81), 191, 194–5
184–6
Cn. Cornelius Lentulus Clodianus Egypt, 21, 23, 63, 135
(cos. 72), 195 Elaea (Kazikbaglari), 30
P.Cornelius Lentulus Sura (cos. Ephesus, 75, 95, 98, 105
71), 192 Epicadus, 37
P.Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus, Epicurus, 154
2, 198 Epigonus, 25
L.Cornelius Sisenna, 9, 47 Etruria, 137
F.Cornelius Sulla, 37 Eumachus, 79, 82
L.Cornelius Sulla, 7–11, 16–19, Eupatoria (suburb), 87, 92–3
21, 22–3, 25–34, 36–47, 54–9, Eupatoria (town), 88
61–3, 65, 67, 69, 72–3, 75, 77, Euphrates (philosopher), 12
85, 92, 96, 101–2, 116, 126, Euphrates, river, 101, 104–5, 116,
128, 130, 132, 136–40, 148, 118, 136, 175
165–70, 172, 174–5, 180–5, Eupolemus, 9
192, 194, 197–9 Europe, 64, 205
Cos, 25 Euxine, the, 26
Crassi, the, 1
Crassus see M.Licinius Crassus
Index 271

Fabia, 72, 193 L.Hirtuleius, 194


M.Fabius Hadrianus, 73, 90, 119 Hither Spain, 2
202–3 Q.Hortensius Hortalus, 9, 11, 47,
C.Fannius (trib. pleb. 59), 158 57, 122, 132, 137, 147, 152,
L.Fannius (renegade), 63, 79, 82, 154, 172
119 Horti Luculliani, 147
Fausta, 37, 130 Hydra, the, 115
C.Fidiculanius Falcula, 189 Hypata, 19
Fimbrians, the, 75, 79, 83, 122,
124–6, 178 Iberians, the 101
L.Flavius (trib. pleb. 60), 141–2, Ilium, 81, 85
152 Intercatia (Villalpardo), 2
C.Flavius Fimbria (quaestor 86), Iris (Yes?il), 88
26–8, 63, 75, 120 Isauria, 79
Forum, the, 146 Isogli, 104
Forum Boarium, the, 135 Italia, 15
Q.Fufius Calenus, 139 Italy, 1, 15, 37, 42, 51–3, 67, 72,
Q.Fulvius Flaccus (pr. 182), 198 84–5, 120, 126, 136–7, 145,
Q.Fulvius Lippinus (of Tarquinii), 148, 155, 179, 194–5, 199
147, 155
Further Spain, 2, 161, 194 Jove, 160
Julia, 160
A.Gabinius (leg. 81), 182 Julii Caesares, 1
A.Gabinius (cos. 85), 120–1, 144, L.Julius Caesar, 31, 35, 37, 44, 46,
160 126, 132, 139, 158–62, 167,
Galatia, 63, 126–8 174, 180–1, 183, 185–7, 193,
Galatians, the, 82, 87, 96 201, 204
Gaul, 194 Sex. Julius Caesar (cos. 91), 192
Gaziura, 120, 123 C.Junius (iud. quaest. 74), 58, 189
L.Gellius Publicola (cos. 72), 195 M.Junius Brutus (tyrannicide), 148
Gordyene, 111, 114–15, 117 M.Junius Juncus (pr. 76), 64–5,
Gouras, 119 201–2, 204
Gracchi, the, 9, 54, 57 D.Junius Silanus (cos. 62), 137
Granicus (Biga), 84 Juno, 136, 185
Gratius, 138 Jupiter, 35
Greece, 2, 17–19, 21, 23, 25–6,
28, 63, 150 Lampsacus (Lapseki), 79, 82, 84–5,
Greeks, the, 13, 22, 30, 96, 102, 185
105, 110, 125, 146, 176 Lanuvium (Lanuvio), 136
Lectum (Baba), 27
Halys (Kizil), 87 Lemnos, 85
Hellespont, the, 84 Lesbos, 26
Heraclea (Policoro), 9–10 Levant, the, 24
Heraclea Pontica (Eregli), 86–7, Libya, 22
93, 97, 112 Licinia, 133
Hercules, 94, 136, 147, 175 Licinii, the, 1
Hermaeus, 84
Hirpini, the, 16
272 Index

M.Licinius Crassus (triumvir), 34, Q.Marcius Rex (cos. 68), 115,


46, 135, 137, 141, 159–61, 122–4, 131
164, 181, 195 C.Marius (cos. 107), 5–8, 16–17,
L.Licinius Lucullus (cur. aed. 202), 57, 74, 139, 148–9, 156, 160,
1–2 167, 177
L.Licinius Lucullus (trib. pleb. M.Marius (quaest. 76), 63, 77–9,
196), 2 83–5
L.Licinius Lucullus (cos. 151), 1–3 Marmara, Sea of, 78, 82
L.Licinius Lucullus (pr. 104), 3–4 Medea. 112
L.Licinius Lucullus (cos. 74) Medes, the, 108
passim Media Atropatene, 101
L.Licinius Lucullus (son of cos. Mediterranean, the, 21, 51,
74), 134 101, 150
M.Licinius Lucullus (pr. per. Melos, 144
186), 1 C.Memmius (trib. pleb. 66),
L.Licinius Murena (pr. 88), 29, 31, 129–31
34, 62, 77, 125, 182–4, 186–7 L.Memmius (tourist), 24
L.Licinius Murena (cos. 62), 72, Memphis, 24
88, 91–3, 107–8, 134, 136–8, Mesopotamia, 101
142, 202 Metella (mother of Servilii), 5
Lopadium (Uluabat), 82 Metellii, the, 3, 133
Luculli, the, 1, 3, 5–10, 129–30, Metrophanes, 79, 82
132, 138, 154 M.Minucius Thermus, 31, 182,
Lucullus (mythical), 1 184–7
M.Lucullus (cos. 73), 3, 6, 8, 10, Misenum, 148
15, 21, 34, 125, 129–30, 132, Mithridates II (Parthia), 116
134, 164–5, 172, 192 Mithridates VI Eupator (Pontus),
Lusitania, 2 17, 19, 21, 23, 25–31, 36, 59,
Q.Lutatius Catulus, 11, 39, 41, 45, 62–6, 72, 74–5, 77, 79–91,
47–8, 121–2, 132, 135, 140, 93–4 97–9, 101–4, 106–8, 110,
152–3, 160–2, 191 112–17, 119–20, 122–5, 127,
Lycaonia, 103–4, 123 135, 140, 142, 144, 165, 171,
Lycus (Kelkit), 8 180, 182–4, 188, 190–2, 194,
Lydia, 19, 79 199, 203–4
Mithrobarzanes, 106–7
Macedonia, 18–19, 129, 191–3 Monte Miseno, 148
Marchares, 87–8, 94 Monte di Procida, 148
L.Magius, 63, 79–80, 200 Mucia, 141
Mamercus (leg.), 73, 82 L.Mummius, 2–3, 92, 198
Mancaeus, 107, 109 Murenae, the, 1, 184
C.Manilius (trib. pleb. 66), Mysia, 73, 82–3
122, 132 Mytilene, 26, 30–1, 43, 74, 177,
C.Manlius (pr. 72), 195 183, 185–7
L.Manlius (pr. 79?), 194
L.Manlius Torquatus (quaest. Naples, 10, 148–9
88), 29 Nemi, 73, 136, 175
L.Marcius Philippus (cens. 86), 42, Neoptolemus, 27–8
67–8, 192 Nervae, the, 1
Nesis (Nisida), 148
Index 273

Nessus, 136 Pompeius (leg.), 73, 91


Nicaea (Iznik), 77, 84, 86 Cn. Pompeius Magnus, 34, 37–48,
Nicomedeia (Iznit), 85–6 51–4, 59–61, 64, 96, 102, 120–
Nicomedes IV (Bithynia), 64, 3, 126–8, 130, 133, 135, 137–
188–92, 194, 197, 199, 201–2, 8, 140–3, 146–8, 150–1, 153,
204 157–62, 164, 168–72, 174–5,
Nisibis (Nusaybin), 119, 139 178, 180–1, 191, 194–6
Norba, 199 Cn. Pompeius Rufus (cos. 88),
Nuceria, 4 192
Nysa (of Bithynia), 189 Pompey see Cn. Pompeius Magnus
Nyssa (of Pontus), 91 Pomponius (prefect), 73
T.Pomponius Atticus (friend of
C.Octavius (cos. 76), 47, 56 Cicero), 9, 11, 144, 153
L.Octavius (adulterer), 130 Pontus, 17, 21, 63–4, 75, 77, 87,
L.Octavius (cos. 75), 57, 65 91, 95, 103–4, 107, 112–13,
Q.Opimius, 57–8 117, 119–20, 122, 125, 127,
Orchomenus, 26 129, 141, 145, 171, 193–4, 204
Otroea, 77 L.Porcius Cato (cos. 89), 16
M.Porcius Cato (the Censor), 13
Paeligni, the, 1 M.Porcius Cato (Uticensis), 72,
Palestine, 11 132–4, 137–8, 141, 143, 161–3
Pailantia (Palencia), 2 A.Postumius Albinus (cos. 151), 13
Panormus (Palermo), 9 A.Postumius Albinus (cos. 99), 183
Paphlagonia, 63–4, 72, 87, 199, Praecia, 70–1, 144
204 Praeneste, 67–8
C.Papirius Carbo (cos. 82), 197, Prusa (Bursa), 82, 84
199 Prusias (Cius), 84
Paris, 130 Ptolemy Alexander I, 23
Parium (Kemer), 79, 84–5 Ptolemy Alexander II, 23
Parthia, 62, 87, 115–16 Ptolemy Apion, 22, 197
Parthians, the, 116–17 Ptolemy Soter II, 23–5
Pausias of Sicyon, 147 Puteoli (Pozzuoli), 37, 148
Peloponnese, the, 19
Perinthus (Erikli), 85 L.Quinctius, 58–9, 61, 64, 115,
M.Perperna, 194–5 121, 162, 170, 172, 189
Persephone, 81
Pharmacusa, 201 Rhegium (Reggio Calabria), 10
Pharnacia (Giresun), 91 Rhodes, 19, 25, 201
Phoenicia, 103 Rhodians, the, 21
Phoenix, 89 Rhyndacus (Capaz), 82
Phraates II (Parthia), 115–17 Romans, the, 1, 4, 7–8, 15, 19,
Phrygia, 19, 73, 79, 83, 175 22–3, 30, 41, 46, 61–2, 64, 77,
Pincian hill, 147, 155 88–90, 95, 102–5, 108–10, 112,
Piraeus, the, 19 119, 144–5, 152, 155, 166,
Pisidia, 79 190, 199, 204
Pisistratus, 81 Rome, 1, 6, 7, 9–10, 12, 15, 21–
Pitane (Çandarli), 26 3, 25, 27, 31–2, 34–5, 37–8,
Pompeia, 139 41, 43–4, 47, 51–4, 57–8, 60–
274 Index

4, 66–8, 72, 82, 84–5, 91, 95, Spain, 2, 39–41, 45, 51–4, 59, 63,
98–9, 102–6, 111–15, 120, 126, 66, 93, 123, 168, 170, 183,
128–9, 131–2, 136, 140, 144, 191–6, 198–9
146–7, 151, 153, 155, 158, Sparta, 164
170–2, 175, 177, 183, 185, Spartacus, 129, 167, 192, 194–5,
190–1, 197–9, 201, 204–5 199–200
Rubicon, river, 181 Sthenis, 95
Sulla see L.Cornelius Sulla
Sabinus, 136 Sullani, the, 36, 38, 44, 56, 58–60
C.Salluvius Naso (leg.), 72, 83 P.Sulpicius (trib. pleb. 88), 8, 17,
Salvius (Tryphon), 4 57, 60
Samians, the, 185 Ser. Sulpicius Galba (cos. 144), 2
Samnites, the, 16 Ser. Sulpicius Rufus (cos. 51), 137
Samos, 185 Synnada, 19, 30
Samothrace, 86 Syria, 12, 21, 101, 111
Sangarius (Sakarya), 77
Sardinia, 41–2, 73 Talaura, 91, 123
Sarmatians, the, 63, 90 Tarentum (Taranto), 10
C.Scribonius Curio (cos. 76), 47, Taurians, the, 63
56–7, 194 Taurus Mountains, 105, 107,
C.Scribonius Curio (tr. pleb. 117–18
50), 158 Taxiles, 108
Scythians, the, 63, 87, 164 Tenedos (Bozcaada), 27, 85, 93
Sebasteia Megalopolis (Sivas), 23 M.Terentius Varro, 8, 11,
Seleucids, the, 96 150, 161
C.Sempronius Gracchus, 55, 65 M.Terentius Varro Lucullus see
L.Sergius Catilina, 44–5, 137–8, M.Lucullus
157, 167, 193 Themiscyra (Terme), 88
Q.Sertorius, 39, 41–6, 51–3, 60, Thermodon (Terme), river, 88
63–4, 66–7, 79, 87, 119, Thrace, 85, 129, 194
167–8, 188, 191–200, 204 Thracia, 79
Servilia, 133–4 Thracians, the, 63, 144
Sevilii, the, 5, 7, 151, 175 Thyateira (Ak Hisar), 19, 30
Servilius (pr. 88=the Augur?), 77 Tibareni, the, 88, 91
Servilius the Augur (pr. 88?), Tiberius (emperor), 149
4, 6–7 Tieium (Filyos), 93
C.Servilius (pr. 102), 4–5 Tigranes, 87, 91, 99, 101–19,
Q.Servilius Caepio, 133 123–4, 135, 176–7, 203
P.Servilius Vatia Isauricus, 8, 75, Tigranocerta (Silvan), 99, 105–7,
124, 185–6, 194, 198 109–11, 114, 117–18,
Sextilius (leg.), 73, 106–7, 116 155, 175
Sicily, 4–5, 9–10 Tigris, river, 106, 125
L.Sicinnius, 56–7 Tomisa, 105
Sinope (Sinop), 87, 93–5, 147 Transcaucasia, 101
Sophene, 101, 105–6 Triocala (Caltabellota?), 4
Sopheni, the, 111 Troad, the, 27–8
Sornatius (C.Sornatius Barba?), Tubero (Stoic), 151
73, 104 M.Tullius Cicero, 6, 8, 11–12, 58
68, 112, 122, 130, 134, 137–8,
Index 275

140, 144, 146, 148, 152–4, Velabrum, the, 2, 135


157–8, 163, 172, 184–6, 188–9, Venus, 1
193–4, 201, 204 C.Verres, 184–6
M.Tullius Decula (cos. 81), 198 Vestals, the, 193
Tusculum (Frascati), 10, 120, 144, Vettius (eques), 3–4
147, 156, 165 L.Vettius (informer), 158, 162
Tyrannio, 93–4 Via Appia, 49
Via Sacra, 57–8, 135
Utica, 132 Voconii, the, 73
C.(?) Voconius (leg.), 73, 86
Vaccaei, the, 2 Volaterrae, 185
L.Valerius Flaccus (pr. 63), 157–8
C.Valerius Triarius, 73, 84, 86, 87, Xerxes, 150–1
93, 119–20, 123–4
P.Varenus, 194 Zarbienus, 111
P.Vatinius, 158 Zela, 123

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