Chapter 10
Marius and the Roman exiles in Asia
Marius is an intriguing figure, first appearing in Spain serving under Sertorius, as a quaestor in 76 BC. All we have as background for that man is that he was a senator who had fled to Sertorius, but crucially we do not know when.¹ The obvious question is what was his relationship to C. Marius? Ultimately, we have no evidence; we know he was a senator who had to flee Rome and that Sertorius thought him totemic enough to be the figurehead for the coalition armies in Asia. Given that he was a Roman senator who was proscribed, the most logical assumption is that he was indeed a close relation of the elder Marius, but we do not know if he fled Rome in 82 or 78/77 BC. He could have fled Rome in 82 BC directly to Spain or been on Sicily along with M. Perperna.
We know little of the wider family of the elder C. Marius, but we do know of an M. Marius who served as praetor and pro-praetor in Spain in 102–101 BC, leading Evans to speculate that he was a younger brother of C. Marius.² Given that they had the same name, it is not beyond the realms of possibility that this M. Marius was the son of this possible younger brother and thus nephew of the seven-time consul himself.³ In any event, having a Roman army led by a Marius was of significant propaganda value, and so the civil war, for so long now confined to the west, spread once again, this time to Asia Minor. Plutarch describes Marius as being Sertorius’ choice to spearhead the eastern rebel forces, whilst Orosius reports a slight variation on this story:
Sertorius sent M. Marius to him [Mithridates] for the purpose of ratifying the treaty. Mithridates kept him by his side and in a short time appointed him general in place of Archelaus.⁴
Aside from Marius, we have reports of a number of prominent Roman exiles at the court of Mithridates, who had gathered there over the years. The earliest of these reported figures is C. Appuleius Decianus (Tr Pl 98) who was prosecuted and exiled following his year of office for being a supporter of the murdered tribune L. Appuleius Saturninus (see Chapter 1). Whether he fled east to Mithridates directly, or made his way slowly there over the years is not known.⁵
The most notable of the exiles were the aforementioned coalition commanders L. Fannius and L. Magius, who had served under Fimbria in the east in the campaigns against Mithridates of 86–85 BC. They seem to have been at Mithridates’ court for at least a portion of the intervening decade, becoming trusted advisors on Roman matters. The final named individual is a Roman senator named Attidius, though his identity and reasons for seeking refuge at the Pontic court are unknown.⁶
Aside from these five named individuals, Memnon refers to a number of Roman exiles, all proscribed men, being killed in the decisive battle of the eastern phase of the civil war (see below).⁷ Thus, all the indications are that by this point there was a sizable gathering of exiled and proscribed Roman senators, mostly lesser coalition figures, in the court of Mithridates VI, who were now able to utilize the forces of Mithridates in the continuation of their war against the Senate in Rome. Fannius and Magius were not the only reminders of the previous civil war campaigns in Asia, as a large part of the senatorial army fighting Mithridates and the coalition commanders came from the army of Fimbria himself, which had been left as a permanent force in Asia by Sulla, when he left the east to invade Italy:
The Fimbrians, as they were called, had become unmanageable, through long lack of discipline. These were the men who, in collusion with Fimbria, had slain Flaccus, their consul and general, and had delivered Fimbria himself over to Sulla. They were self-willed and lawless, but good fighters, hardy, and experienced in war. However, in a short time Lucullus pruned off their insolent boldness, and reformed the rest.⁸
Thus a large contingent of the senatorial forces were from a former coalition army, that had connived at the murder of their consular commander Flaccus in 85, and then promptly betrayed their new commander Fimbria; following which they had been left in Asia as a permanent presence for the intervening decade. Furthermore, they now faced some of their own former commanders, in the form of Fannius and Magius, and the opposing general, a relation of elder Marius.
2. Civil War in Asia
In the opening period of the war, not only were the coalition forces led by M. Marius, but it seems that the Pontic forces were as well (at least nominally):
He [Marius] was assisted by Mithridates in the capture of certain cities of Asia, and when he entered them with fasces and axes, Mithridates would follow him in person, voluntarily assuming second rank and the position of a vassal. Marius gave some of the cities their freedom, and wrote to others announcing their exemption from taxation by grace of Sertorius, so that Asia, which was once more harassed by the revenue-farmers and oppressed by the rapacity and arrogance of the soldiers quartered there, was all of a flutter with new hopes and yearned for the expected change of supremacy.⁹
Thus, rather than appear as a foreign invader, Mithridates wisely appeared to be subordinate to the Roman general and was appointed representative of one of Rome’s two Senates. Marius appears to have played this role with considerable skill, appearing as a Roman general freeing them from the hated tax collection process imposed on them by the Senate of Rome. The Roman senatorial forces in Asia were commanded by both consuls of 74 BC, M. Aurelius Cotta and L. Licinius Lucullus.¹⁰ Though Cotta arrived in the east first, it was Lucullus who soon assumed overall command of the Third Mithridatic War and led the bulk of the fighting against Marius in these eastern civil war campaigns.
A clash between Lucullus and Marius was awash with overtones of the previous phases of the civil war and the history behind it. Lucullus was not only a protégé of Sulla, but is suspected of being the only one of Sulla’s officers who did not desert Sulla when he marched his army on Rome in 88 BC (see Chapter 3).¹¹ As we have seen (Chapter 5), he served as Sulla’s legate in the First Mithridatic War and had always been seen as a close adherent to Sulla, with whom he was related through marriage; both had married into the Caecilii Metelli. In point of fact, his maternal uncle was Q. Caecilius Metellus Numidicus himself, Marius the elder’s former mentor and then long-time enemy. Though the full details of the Third Mithridatic War fall outside the scope of this work, we do have a number of references to the activities of Marius and his coalition forces and his subsequent battles with Lucullus.
Battle of Chalcedon
The first key battle of the Third Mithridatic War was a Mithridatic victory over the consul Cotta in late 74 BC at Chalcedon. Marius and his forces played a part in that victory:
Marius and Eumachus, who were dispatched by Mithridates as generals against Lucullus, assembled a great army in short time and engaged in battle with P. Rutilius [Nudus] near Chalcedon; he and the greater part of his army were slain there.¹²
The Non-Battle of Otryae
Following this defeat, Cotta and his forces were held up in the city of Chalcedon, awaiting reinforcements and rescue by Lucullus. As Lucullus’ army approached, Marius was sent to stop him. The two forces met at Otryae:
[Lucullus] led his army against Mithridates, having 30,000 foot-soldiers, and 2,500 horsemen. But when he had come within sight of the enemy and seen with amazement their multitude, he desired to refrain from battle and draw out the time. But Marius, whom Sertorius had sent to Mithridates from Spain with an army, came out to meet him, and challenged him to combat, and so he put his forces in array to fight the issue out. But presently, as they were on the point of joining battle, with no apparent change of weather, but all on a sudden, the sky burst asunder, and a huge, flame-like body was seen to fall between the two armies. In shape, it was most like a wine-jar, and in colour, like molten silver. Both sides were astonished at the sight, and separated. This marvel, as they say, occurred in Phrygia, at a place called Otryae.¹³
Thus the first clash between Lucullus and Marius was aborted due to a natural phenomenon. Lucullus’ force went on to Chalcedon and lifted the siege, though we have no details of Marius’ involvement in the fighting. The forces next met a few months later, during early 73 BC, following the Mithridatic siege of the city of Cyzicus, which also saw another notable incident involving the former Fimbrian element of Lucullus’ army:
The Fimbrian soldiers were concerned that their leaders would regard them as disloyal because of their crime against Flaccus, and they secretly sent to Mithridates, promising to desert to him. Mithridates thought this message was a stroke of luck, and when night came he sent Archelaus to confirm the agreement and to bring the deserters over to him. But when Archelaus arrived, the Fimbrian soldiers seized him and killed his companions.¹⁴
Appian adds the detail that this was orchestrated by none other than L. Magius himself, who once again decided to change sides and this time betrayed Mithridates to Lucullus, after securing amnesty.¹⁵ Appian adds the crucial detail that Magius did so following the death of Sertorius in Spain. As the Cyzicus campaign dates from 73 BC, this is a crucial piece of evidence for the argument that Sertorius was assassinated in 73 BC, and not 72 BC (see below).¹⁶ Thus both Magius and the Fimbrian legions completed a full circle of betrayals and placed themselves firmly in the camp of the Roman Senate. The various clashes of the Cyzicus campaign turned the tide of the war against Mithridates and Marius. Again, the chronology for this period is open to dispute, but the year 73 BC is considered to be the most likely.¹⁷
Battle of the River Aesepus
The first clash between Lucullus and Marius came at the River Aesepus, and is recorded in brief detail by Memnon, Appian and Orosius:
He [Mithridates] appointed Hermaeus and Marius to lead the foot-soldiers, with an army of over 30,000 men, while he made his way back by sea. Various disasters occurred as he boarded the triremes, because the men who were still waiting to board them grasped the ships and hung onto them, both the ships which were already full and the ones which remained. So many men did this that some of the ships were sunk and others were capsized. When the citizens of Cyzicus saw this, they attacked the Pontic camp, slaughtered the exhausted troops who were left there and pillaged everything that had been left in the camp. Lucullus pursued the army as far as the River Aesepus, where he surprised it and killed a great number of the enemy.¹⁸
Nevertheless Mithridates continued his efforts, hoping still to capture Cyzicus by means of the mounds extending from Mount Dindymus. But when the Cyziceans undermined them and burned the machines on them, and made frequent sallies upon his forces, knowing that they were weakened by want of food, Mithridates began to think of flight. He fled by night, going himself with his fleet to Parius, and his army by land to Lampsacus. Many lost their lives in crossing the River Aesepus, which was then greatly swollen, and where Lucullus attacked them.¹⁹
Soon afterwards he attacked and defeated Marius and put him to flight in a battle in which more than 11,000 of Marius’ troops, according to report, were killed.²⁰
Thus, the first battle between Lucullus and Marius ended with a Marian defeat, and the loss of 11,000 men. The Marian forces had been in retreat following the failure at Cyzicus and were ambushed by Lucullus when attempting to cross a swollen river. The aborted siege of Cyzicus proved to be a turning point in the war; Mithridates’ forces had suffered an earlier defeat at the River Rhyndacus, with heavy losses, and now came this rout at Aesepus.²¹ The sources report that, whilst Mithridates himself had escaped by ship, the land army was in headlong retreat with Lucullus at its heels. The remnants of the army seem to have made for the coastal city of Lampsacus to await naval rescue. Lucullus followed them and laid the city under siege. A Mithridatic fleet arrived and spirited the survivors away, except for a rearguard commanded by M. Marius:
Mithridates sent ships for those who had taken refuge in Lampsacus, where they were besieged by Lucullus, and carried them away, together with the Lampsaceans themselves. Leaving 10,000 picked men and fifty ships under Marius (the general sent to him by Sertorius), and Alexander the Paphlagonian, and Dionysius the eunuch, he sailed with the bulk of his force for Nicomedia. A storm came up in which many of both divisions perished.²²
Battle of Tenedos
With the main fleet escaping, Marius appears to have escaped Lampsacus himself with his army on board the ships that had been left for him. Lucullus, whose fleet had not been able to prevent the evacuation of Mithridates’ army, now gave chase to the Marian fleet and engaged them near the island of Tenedos, near Lemnos. Appian, Plutarch and Orosius preserve accounts of the battle:²³
He overtook Marius and Alexander and Dionysius on a barren island near Lemnos (where the altar of Philoctetes is shown with the brazen serpent, the bows, and the breastplate bound with fillets, to remind us of the sufferings of that hero), and dashed at them in a contemptuous manner. They stoutly held their ground. He checked his oarsmen and sent his ships toward them by twos in order to entice them out to sea. As they declined the challenge, but continued to defend themselves on land, he sent a part of his fleet around to another side of the island, disembarked a force of infantry, and drove the enemy to their ships. Still they did not venture out to sea, but hugged the shore, because they were afraid of the army of Lucullus. Thus they were exposed to missiles on both sides, landward and seaward, and received a great many wounds, and after heavy slaughter took to flight. Marius, Alexander, and Dionysius the eunuch were captured in a cave where they had concealed themselves. Dionysius drank poison which he had with him and immediately expired. Lucullus gave orders that Marius be put to death, since he did not want to have his triumph graced by a Roman senator, but he kept Alexander for that purpose.²⁴
Accordingly, Lucullus put to sea at once, captured these, slew their commander, Isodorus, and then sailed in pursuit of the other captains, whom these were seeking to join. They chanced to be lying at anchor close to shore, and drawing their vessels all up on land, they fought from their decks, and sorely galled the crews of Lucullus. These had no chance to sail round their enemies, nor to make onset upon them, since their own ships were afloat, while those of their enemies were planted upon the land and securely fixed. However, Lucullus at last succeeded in disembarking the best of his soldiers where the island afforded some sort of access. These fell upon the enemy from the rear, slew some of them, and forced the rest to cut their stern cables and fly from the shore, their vessels thus falling foul of one another, and receiving the impact of the ships of Lucullus. Many of the enemy perished, of course, and among the captives there was brought in Marius, the general sent from Sertorius. He had but one eye, and the soldiers had received strict orders from Lucullus, as soon as they set sail, to kill no one-eyed man. Lucullus wished Marius to die under the most shameful insults.²⁵
Lucullus later met this same Marius in a naval encounter and sank or captured thirty-two of the royal ships and also a great many transports. Many of those whom Sulla had proscribed were killed in that battle. On the next day Marius was dragged out from a cave in which he was hiding and paid the penalty that his hostile intentions merited.²⁶
Cicero refers to the battle on three occasions in his various speeches, and is the only source to name its location, Tenedos:
I say that he also, when general, defeated and destroyed that great and well-appointed fleet, which the chiefs of Sertorius’ party were leading against Italy with furious zeal.²⁷
Do you think that that naval battle at Tenedos, when the enemy’s fleet were hastening on with rapid course and under most eager admirals towards Italy, full of hope and courage, was a trifling engagement, an insignificant contest?²⁸
Ours is the glory which will be for ever celebrated, which is derived from the fleet of the enemy which was sunk after its admirals had been slain, and from the marvellous naval battle off Tenedos.²⁹
Thus this naval battle ended the Asian campaigns of the civil war. The Ciceronian references are interesting, as he refers to them as an invasion fleet heading to Italy rather than a rearguard action to escape Lampsacus and retreat to safer territory. It is conceivable that, feeling abandoned by Mithridates, the Roman contingent had decided to abandon the Asian campaign and return to Spain and rejoin Sertorius. In any event, Marius and a significant proportion of the Roman exile community were killed. Despite Cicero, it is difficult to see this incident as being anything other than a sacrifice by Mithridates, placing Marius and a number of his fellow exiles in the rearguard to buy his own forces time to retreat. This assessment would be enhanced if Sertorius himself was now dead and the alliance broken (see below).
Of the other Roman exiles at the Mithridatic court, L. Magius presumably continued the war in Lucullus’ entourage, whist L. Fannius escaped and continued to fight with Mithridates, but seems to have also defected back to the Roman side and Lucullus, possibly facilitated by his old colleague Magius, and we find him fighting Tigranes in 68 BC.³⁰ The son of Decianus, who accompanied his father into exile, returned to Rome following the general amnesty in 70 BC (see Chapter 11) and is mentioned in relation to his business dealings in Asia by Cicero. The only other exile still recorded at the court of Mithridates was Attidius, who became a close confidante of Mithridates himself, but was executed by the king in 67 BC after being implicated in a plot to assassinate him.
Thus by his swift actions and military acumen, Lucullus ended the eastern campaigns of the civil war, which had so briefly threatened to plunge Rome into a two-pronged war, in little more than a year. Marius and his fellow exiles seemed to have suited Mithridates’ purposes when he was on the offensive, especially by legitimizing his invasion of Roman territory, but they soon found themselves sacrificed when the tide of the war turned. With the death of Marius, and his colleagues’ defection back to Rome, combined with Mithridates retreating across Asia Minor, the alliance between him and the exiled government in Spain, which had promised so much, fell into abeyance. Once again, Spain became the sole focus of the civil war.
4. The War in Spain (73–71 BC)
The key issue facing any analysis of this phase of the civil war in Spain concerns the death of Sertorius. Under the traditional dating, the year 73 BC apparently continued in the same vein as 74 BC, with no major clashes, but with Pompeius and Metellus reducing the remaining Sertorian allied towns and cities by siege. Appian only makes a vague statement about there being no great battles and a campaign of sieges, whilst both he and Plutarch start stressing that the morale of the Spanish tribes was undermined by the military superiority of the senatorial forces and that in response Sertorius became more tyrannical, even going so far as to attack the children of the tribal leaders who were being educated at his Roman school in Osca (see Chapter 9), apparently killing a number and selling the survivors into slavery.³¹ However, as Plutarch also reports, dissatisfaction amongst Sertorius’ followers extended beyond the Spanish tribes and into the rebel Senate itself.³²
Traditionally, by 72 BC Sertorius’ descent into tyranny leads to conspiracy, as detailed in both Appian and Plutarch.³³ Given the deaths of Hirtuleius, Herennius and M. Marius, the key surviving coalition general was M. Perperna, and the conspiracy centres upon him. According to Appian’s account, the initial conspiracy was discovered but not Perperna’s role as mastermind. A second attempt was planned for a banquet at which Sertorius and his bodyguards were plied with wine and then murdered.
From Plutarch’s account and a fragment of Sallust, we are given the names of a number of the other conspirators: M. Antonius, Aufidius, L. Fabius Hispaniensis, Manlius, Octavius Graecinus and C. Tarquitius Priscus.³⁴
Unfortunately, there are a number of indications that this assassination actually occurred in 73 BC, not 72 BC, as traditionally believed. Both Bennett and Konrad provide the best arguments.³⁵ There are several indicators to this shift in chronology. Firstly, we have the evidence that Appian provides for the betrayal of L. Magius from the coalition forces in Asia to Lucullus, as news of Sertorius’ death had reached them. Again, the Cyzicus campaign itself is difficult to date, but it has been argued that it dates from autumn 73 BC. As Bennett argues, the consuls elected in late 73 for 72 BC were Pompeian allies, and when in office they carried laws to validate grants of citizenship Pompeius had made in Spain, the argument being that they were elected with the expectation of quick victory on the news of Sertorius’ death.³⁶ There is also an intriguing sentence in thePeriochae of Livy that states that for 73 BC, ‘It [the book] also contains an account of Cn. Pompeius’ victorious war against Sertorius in Hispania.’ The key question is why was it victorious if no major engagements were fought?³⁷ Again, unfortunately, the Periochae of Livy itself is uncertain on its exact year-on-year chronology.
Ultimately, we have no exact chronology for this period, and the year of Sertorius’ assassination cannot be dated with absolute certainty. Nevertheless, the evidence does indicate that the assassination took place early in 73 and not 72 BC. This re-assessment removes the additional year of Sertorius’ campaign in the narrative of our sources, and has him being murdered whilst still scoring victories in his guerrilla tactics. This does not mean that his rule had not become harsher or that his allies were deserting him through 74 BC as the tide of the war turned.³⁸
The murder of Sertorius had a major impact on both sides of the Mediterranean. Naturally enough, as senior surviving commander of the coalition forces, Perperna took charge of the war in Spain. Whilst competent enough, he was no match for Sertorius in either his military prowess or his leadership skills. Sertorius’ death robbed the coalition forces of a charismatic figurehead, a general who fought with Marius himself and who had gone through the war avoiding outright defeat, always seeming to bounce back stronger. Perperna, on the other hand, whilst competent, had a string of military defeats to his name and, if the sources are to be believed, the personality of a true Roman patrician.
Both Appian and Plutarch report that, although Sertorius’ unpopularity had been growing, neither the solders nor the tribal leaders took kindly to seeing such a great leader murdered in such a fashion. Ironically, it seems that Perperna himself was made a bequest in Sertorius’ will.³⁹ Appian reports the measures that Perperna was forced to take in order to quell rebellions amongst the soldiers and other Roman commanders:
And they would not have abstained from violence had not Perperna bestirred himself, making gifts to some and promises to others. Some he terrified with threats and some he killed in order to strike terror into the rest. He came forward and made a speech to the multitude, and released from confinement some whom Sertorius had imprisoned, and dismissed some of the Spanish hostages. Reduced to submission in this way, they obeyed him as praetor (for he held the next rank to Sertorius), yet they were not without bitterness toward him even then. As he grew bolder, he became very cruel in punishments, and put to death three of the nobility who had fled together from Rome to him, and also his own nephew.⁴⁰
Whilst Perperna may have been able to control the Roman contingent, as Plutarch reports, the tribal elements of the armies were another matter:
Well, then, most of the Iberians immediately went away, sent ambassadors to Pompeius and Metellus, and delivered themselves up to them; but those who remained Perperna took under his command and attempted to do something.⁴¹
With the rebellion faltering and his own authority in question, Perperna seems to have continued his campaign through the rest of 73 BC, but by early the following year he seems to have decided to gamble everything on one decisive battle with Pompeius, which, given his previous record against him, was a bold move indeed.
Unnamed Battle
Both Appian and Plutarch preserve short narratives of the battle between Pompeius and Perperna, though the location of the clash is unknown:
As Metellus had gone to other parts of Spain, for he considered it no longer a difficult task for Pompeius alone to vanquish Perperna, these two skirmished and made tests of each other for several days, but did not bring their whole strength into the field. On the tenth day, however, a great battle was fought between them. They resolved to decide the contest by one engagement, Pompeius because he despised the generalship of Perperna; Perperna because he did not believe that his army would long remain faithful to him, and he could now engage with nearly his whole strength. Pompeius, as might have been expected, soon got the better of this inferior general and disaffected army. Perperna was defeated all along the line and concealed himself in a thicket, more fearful of his own troops than of the enemy’s. He was seized by some horsemen and dragged toward Pompeius’ headquarters, loaded with the execrations of his own men, as the murderer of Sertorius, and crying out that he could give Pompeius a great deal of information about the factions in Rome. This he said either because it was true, or in order to be brought safe to Pompeius’ presence, but the latter sent orders to kill him before bringing him into his presence, fearing lest the news that Perperna wanted to communicate should be the source of new troubles at Rome. Pompeius seems to have behaved very prudently in this matter, and his action added to his high reputation. So ended the war in Spain with the life of Sertorius. I think that if he had lived longer the war would not have ended so soon or so successfully.⁴²
Accordingly, Pompeius took the field against him at once, and perceiving that he had no fixed plan of campaign, sent out ten cohorts as a decoy for him, giving them orders to scatter at random over the plain. Perperna attacked these cohorts, and was engaged in their pursuit, when Pompeius appeared in force, joined battle, and won a complete victory. Most of Perperna’s officers perished in the battle, but Perperna himself was brought before Pompeius, who ordered him to be put to death. In this he did not show ingratitude, nor that he was unmindful of what had happened in Sicily, as some allege against him, but exercised great forethought and salutary judgement for the commonwealth. For Perperna, who had come into possession of the papers of Sertorius, offered to produce letters from the chief men at Rome, who had desired to subvert the existing order and change the form of government, and had therefore invited Sertorius into Italy. Pompeius, therefore, fearing that this might stir up greater wars than those now ended, put Perperna to death and burned the letters without even reading them.⁴³
Thus, it seems that Perperna fell into a Pompeian trap and his army was wiped out. Once again, Perperna proved that in battle he was no Sertorius. Both sources chose to focus on Pompeius’ summary execution of Perperna, akin to that of Carbo in 82 BC. As with Lucullus’ execution of M. Marius the year before, both senatorial commanders chose the easier option of ending further resistance with a swift execution (both men were already declared enemies of the state), rather than bring them back to Rome to re-open old wounds. Certainly, no Roman could parade another in a triumph, and the embarrassing fact that Roman was fighting Roman needed to be downplayed.
Both sources also focus on the letters of support that first Sertorius, and then Perperna, had in their possession from figures within the Senate in Rome. Pompeius seemingly made a public show of telling everyone that he had burnt these treasonable letters without reading them, but one has to wonder whether he really did decline to read them first, or whether he perhaps made copies. Such leverage would be invaluable in his forthcoming political career, and it is hard to believe that such a consummate politician as Pompeius would pass up such an opportunity. Certainly, Pompeius’ prudence in this matter was not so subtle as to prevent such stories circulating in Rome at the time and in the histories which followed.⁴⁴
Appian’s comments about the war in Spain being over with Sertorius’ death, whilst reflecting a commonly held view, are not to be accepted at face value. Certainly, we have to say that Perperna was no Sertorius, and that the alliance of rebellious tribes and coalition forces from the civil war that had been forged by Sertorius were not guaranteed to survive his death. Yet a victory for Perperna would have injected fresh energy into the campaign and may have held this alliance together, which probably explains Perperna’s rash move to fight a man who had already defeated him. With Perperna dead, it seems that the Sertorian Senate soon fell apart. As a postscript to his life of Sertorius, Plutarch records the fate of the other assassins (see Appendix III):
Of Perperna’s fellow conspirators, some were brought to Pompeius and put to death; others fled to Africa and fell victims to the spears of the Mauri. Not one escaped, except Aufidius, the rival of Manlius; he, either because men did not notice him or because they did not heed him, came to old age in a barbarian village, a poor and hated man.⁴⁵
The reference to some of the remaining commanders fleeing to Africa is interesting, as the city of Tangis (Tangiers) was Sertorius’ initial springboard for his invasion of Spain and presumably remained under his control throughout this period. From Plutarch’s reference, it seems that the native Mauri, following the death of Sertorius, soon determined to show their loyalty to Rome by murdering its enemies. Interestingly, the civil war campaigns in Spain and Asia both featured a mixture of native rebellions acting in concert with, or being spearheaded by, exiled Roman elements. In 85 BC, Sulla made a treaty with Mithridates, whilst a decade later it was Sertorius and a Marius. Such a mixture of conflicts can be seen with the war in 87 BC, whereby the Samnites, still fighting the Italian war, found themselves on the winning side of Rome’s civil war (albeit temporarily). This seems to have been a two-way process. For the factions not in control of Rome, these rebellions provided fresh forces for their fight against their enemies, whilst for the natives these civil war factions provided unparalleled opportunity to take advantage of a divided Rome and bolster their own campaigns. Ultimately, however, these alliances between natives and Roman factions were only ever going to be ‘marriages of convenience’, for whichever faction gained control of Rome, none would countenance the break-up of Rome’s empire, nor a diminution in its might (however paradoxical that may have seemed).
In Spain, the death of Perperna did not signal the outright ending of hostilities, and it seems that a handful of Spanish cities did continue their rebellion against Rome. Both Florus and Orosius preserve some details of the aftermath of the defeat:
After Sertorius had been brought low by treachery in his own camp and Perperna had been defeated and given up, the cities of Osca, Termes, Ulia, Valentia, Auxum and Calagurris (the last after suffering all the atrocities of starvation) themselves entered in alliance with Rome.⁴⁶
Later, however, a greater part of the army of Sertorius followed Perperna. Pompeius, however, defeated him and slaughtered his whole army. He at once received the voluntary surrender of all the cities with the exception of Uxama and Calagurris, which continued their resistance. Of these cities Pompeius captured Uxama, whilst Afranius destroyed Calagurris with a final slaughter and burning after the city had been worn down by a continuous siege and compelled by its pitiable hunger to cannibalism.⁴⁷
Thus the war in Spain dragged on for a little time longer, possibly even into 71 BC (again the sources are unclear), and Pompeius spent the rest of his time restoring order to the province and reorganizing it. In 71 BC, both he and Metellus finally withdrew and set off for Italy. However, this does not automatically mean that the First Civil War had come to an end. Similar lulls in the fighting were experienced between 86–84 and again in 81–80 BC. Whilst all bar one of the original coalition commanders had been killed (the exception being L. Cornelius Scipio Asiaticus), the civil war had already entered its second generation and one of its leading figures, the now victorious Cn. Pompeius Magnus, had already threatened to return with his army to Italy in an aggressive manner, and had a track record for not being able to obey senatorial commands to disband his armies. Furthermore, Pompeius had been presented with another golden opportunity to postpone disbanding his armies and returning to Italy at the head of his legions. During 73 BC, a small and seemingly insignificant slave revolt took place at a gladiatorial ludus in Capua. On any other occasion, this event would barely rate a footnote in history. This occasion, however, proved to be quite different. The leader of the revolt was a slave named Spartacus.
5. Crassus, Pompeius and the Servile War in Italy
As the decades pass, the myth of Spartacus in popular culture seems to continue to grow, and this is matched by the exponential growth in the number of volumes devoted to his exploits. Although a detailed analysis of this conflict falls outside of the scope of this work, the conflict does contain some interesting factors surrounding causes and effects that need to be explored in terms of the First Civil War.
The first factor to be noted is the fact that greatest slave revolt in the ancient world occurred in the period of Rome’s First Civil War, which leads to questions surrounding whether the civil war facilitated the development of this slave revolt into what it later became. This is not to say that every civil war was accompanied by a slave revolt, but then this civil war did have some rather unique circumstances, in terms of the devastation that the previous decade of fighting had had on Italy and the massive disruption to the established social order accompanied by the proscriptions. Furthermore, there were several occasions when one faction of the war called for slaves to revolt, as seen in Rome in both 88 and 87 BC.
In terms of the devastation factor, there had been peninsula-wide fighting throughout the Italian War, the war of the duumvirate and again following the Sullan invasion. Such devastation would not be recovered from easily and we still do not have a clear understanding on the economic effects that Italy was suffering under, especially from the point of view of the peasant classes. Furthermore, the Sullan proscriptions had overturned long-established land-holding patterns, which would have had a knock on effect on both the local economies and the established social order. It is notable that the servile armies contained more than just slaves, but a number of free peasants as well, as Plutarch notes:
They were also joined by many of the herdsmen and shepherds of the region, sturdy men and swift of foot, some of whom they fully armed, and employed others as scouts and light infantry.⁴⁸
Thus the slave rebellion seems to have been a focus for wider social dissatisfaction. In terms of the slaves themselves, many would have found themselves with new masters as a result of the Sullan proscriptions and the exiling of a number of Rome’s prominent men, all of whom had landed estates. Furthermore, we must consider the wider implications of a period that had seen the established social order and the certainties it produced overturned in a matter of years. Men that had been allies for centuries now found themselves at war with each other: Roman vs. Italian, Italian vs. Italian, and finally, Roman vs. Roman, undermining the whole social fabric of ancient Italy.
As if this were not enough, we must also consider whether the fear of Roman power had been diminished. As we have seen throughout this work, one of the effects of the implosion of the Roman system was that the sense of the might of Rome was greatly diminished. By 73 BC, Rome was assailed by an alliance of native and Roman rebels in the west and a similar alliance of Roman rebels and native powers in the east, and the loss of control of the seas and coastline to the pirate threat. With one of the key foundations of slavery being the mightier subduing the weak, what effect would the mightier being humbled have on the weak?
Finally, we have the issue of the poor quality of military response from Rome. Had the initial Roman force under C. Claudius Glaber crushed the revolt in its initial stages, as was expected, the world would not have heard of Spartacus. This was followed by further Roman defeats, until M. Licinius Crassus, a former civil war commander (see Chapter 6), brought Roman might to bear and accomplish a sound Roman victory.⁴⁹ From the descriptions in the ancient sources, Spartacus hardly emerges as a new Hannibal, but more of a man who exploited poor-quality Roman leadership and military force. With so many of Rome’s experienced military men dead, exiled or fighting on either side of the civil war, we have to ask ourselves whether this had an effect on the quality of the men left in Italy, at all levels. On several occasions, the sources note the reluctance of magistrates in the 70s to fight in Spain. Thus we must ask ourselves whether the effects of the First Civil War were key factors in the success of the Spartacan Servile War and whether without these, a small slave revolt in Capua would have produced such as result.
Whilst the death of Spartacus and the destruction of his army at the Battle of Silarus ended the immediate threat for Rome, the victorious campaign led to two potentially disastrous consequences, in the forms of Pompeius and Crassus. For Pompeius, the war had given him the prefect excuse to retain command of his army and march it through Italy in the name of protecting the Republic from destruction at the hands of the slave army, with the agreement of the Senate. Furthermore, as he was travelling through Italy, he encountered a force of 5,000 slaves feeling from the fighting in the south, which presented him an opportunity too good to miss, as Plutarch observes:
Even in this success, however, fortune somehow or other included Pompeius, since 5,000 fugitives from the battle fell in his way, all of whom he slew, and then stole a march on Crassus by writing to the Senate that Crassus had conquered the gladiators in a pitched battle, but that he himself had ended the war entirely.⁵⁰
Thus, despite the fact that it was Crassus who had defeated Spartacus and saved the Republic, Pompeius still managed to attempt to cash in on the glory and advance his own successes, none of which would have endeared him to Crassus. As we have already seen (Chapter 6), Crassus and Pompeius had been rivals since their time serving under Sulla during his invasion of Italy. Both men had followed similar beginnings, being the sons of commanders who had contested the Battle for Rome in 87 BC, and both of whom, as young men without official command, had raised armies and joined Sulla. Crassus joined the Sullan campaign in Africa and then joined Sulla himself in Greece, while Pompeius later joined Sulla in Italy. However, despite these similar beginnings, the intervening years had seen them taking divergent paths, Pompeius with a string of military commands, all of which contravened the cursus honorum, Crassus immersing himself in Roman political life, amassing a fortune and a network of patronage and contacts.
Whilst Pompeius’ victory in Spain had elevated his position further, Crassus’ more immediate victory over Spartacus, which was won on the battlefield, rather than via assassination, put him on a par with Pompeius once more. Velleius records a glowing tribute for Crassus, which must have captured the mood of at least some of the people at the time: ‘The glory of ending this war belongs to Marcus Crassus, who was soon by unanimous consent to be regarded as the first citizen in the state.’⁵¹
Furthermore, Crassus had earned his position by observing the cursus honorum and was of the correct age for advancement to consulship, and had never defied a senatorial order to disband his army or threatened them in an open letter. Thus by late 71 BC, Rome was faced with two commanders with a long-standing rivalry, both of whom expected to be rewarded for their efforts in recent wars, and more importantly, both of whom had battle-hardened armies within a few days’ march from Rome.⁵² Furthermore, both were key supporters of Sulla in his attack on Rome, and the slaughter that followed. It is hardly surprising then that the sources report that there were fears within both the Senate and the people that a fresh phase in Rome’s twenty-year civil war was imminent.⁵³