036 - I Am Spartacus!

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome, episode 36, I am Spartacus. Last week, we traced the early career paths of Crassus and Pompey, leaving them both on the edge of political prominence. This week, we will cover the event that broke them into the big time. Prior to the Third Servile War, Crassus was just another fat cat and Pompey was just another ambitious young man on the make. But after the Slave Revolt, both turned their well-deserved and not-so-well-deserved acclaim into a shared consulship, a claim and the fact that both refused to stand down their armies until the Senate agreed to make sure the elections produced the result that was in everyone's best interest.

In 73 BC, Pompey was in Spain trying to pin down the rebellious Marian general Quintus Sertorius, and Crassus was in Rome doing whatever it was that Crassus did, probably dickering with a drowning man over the price of tossing him a lifeline. Spartacus, though, was at gladiator school in Capua. He was supposed to be learning how to put on a good show for his Roman masters, but mostly he was plotting his escape. Kirk Douglas was born in New York in 1916 to illiterate Russian immigrants. His real name was Isur Danilovich, but he spent his early years answering to the name of Izzy Dembski. He began acting in high school and knew from the moment he first stepped out on stage that he wanted to be an actor. Oh, wait a second, I think I may have mixed things up a bit. Hang on. Okay, I got it.

No one is quite sure where Spartacus the gladiator came from. It seems pretty clear that he was born somewhere in Greece, and he is most often referred to as a Thracian, but Thracian was also the gladiatorial combat style he practiced, so there may have been some confusion somewhere along the line about his true origins. It is also not known how he came to be in captivity, but he was widely believed to have served as an auxiliary soldier in the legions at some point, and he may have been a captured deserter. However it happened, it did not take long for the traitors to recognize that he would make a promising gladiator. Peter Ustinov purchased Spartacus and brought him to Kapua to train for life in the arena at a gladiatorial school.

In 73 BC, a plot was hatched at the school that eventually included some 200 gladiators and slaves to break out of captivity. However, with that many people involved, it was just a matter of time before someone talked. When the conspirators were confronted, after the inevitable squealer squealed, they decided to just go for it, and with whatever crude weapons they could grab, mostly kitchen utensils, about 70 fought their way out of the school. Initially, the escape mob had no leader, but a few in the group possessed the kind of natural authority men turn to in a crisis. One of these was of course Spartacus, but another, of equal standing at this point, was a Gaul named Crixus.

The escapees showed more confidence and daring than one might expect from men on the run. They proceeded to raid the countryside around Kapua, which, as you may recall from earlier episodes, was some of the richest, most fertile land in Italy. The majority of the Roman elites had country estates in the region. And of course, where there are palatial country estates, there are slaves, none of whom were too excited about their status. So, when the escaped gladiator showed up at the door demanding plunder, master's slaves did not defend master's things. Master's slaves joined up and helped carry off whatever they could. Pretty soon, the band had grown into the thousands.

Displaying the kind of sound judgment and strategic thinking that would make them such a formidable force, the group headed towards Mount Vesuvius, where they set up a stable camp on the densely wooded slopes. At first, the Senate looked upon the raiding as little more than common thievery and took no official notice. They did not realize that Spartacus and his compatriots were building an army. They did not realize that the Third Servile War had already begun.

Now I'm sure you're asking yourself, Third Servile War? What about the first two? So let's back up a bit. The First and Second Servile Wars were both contained to Sicily. And I mentioned the former in passing during the episode on Tiberius Gracchus when I was ticking off some of the reasons grain prices in Rome were skyrocketing at the time. That war lasted from 135 to 132 B.C. and was the result of the barbaric treatment shown to the island's slave population after Rome took full control of the island in the aftermath of the Punic Wars. The Second Servile War broke out a generation later while Marius recruited for his showdown with the Cimbri in 104 B.C. After some local provincial rulers across the empire complained that they were unable to supply their recruit quotas because all of their ablest recruits, read, poor young men, had been chained up and sold into slavery by overzealous Roman debt collectors. So Marius ordered the release of any slave from an allied nation. This was great as far as it went, but in Sicily many slaves took this to mean that they were free and were quite displeased when they were ordered to return to their masters. So a force of about 25,000 formed a coherent army and broke out into open revolt. Both slave uprisings were eventually quelled, but only after great effort and expense.

So the Roman Senate, despite having previously witnessed two slave revolts, did not yet recognize what was happening in Campania was in fact another slave revolt. They dispatched an irregular militia of about 3,000, led by one of that year's praetors, Gaius Claudius Glauber, down to round up the fugitives and put a halt to the looting. Glauber located the slave hideout on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius and settled into a camp at the base of the mountain. Everyone knew there was only one safe way to come down Vesuvius, because the back end of the mountain was all cliffs. The slaves would eventually get hungry, come down to forage, and when they did, the militia would envelop them and Glauber would be welcomed home a hero, Q.E.D. Except that the slave army had no time for conventional wisdom or standard military practice. During the night, they used vines from the trees and handmade ladders to repel down the sheer cliffs. While Glauber slept, dreams of a consul ship dancing in his head, the slaves approached from behind, surprised the militia, and killed them all.

Upon receiving the news, the Roman Senate was nonplussed. The slaves were making a big old mess of everyone's favorite vacation spot, and it was frankly getting annoying. They weren't quite ready to commit the full force of the legions, so another militia of about 4,000 was sent down, but for some reason the commander decided to split this force into two before engaging the outlaw slaves. Both halves were too weak on their own, and the slaves defeated the new militia with ease. So not only had the slaves now won three successive battles against the Romans, but they also had the armor, weapons, and equipment that had been sent down along with the 7,000 militiamen. Fortunately, they were a true force to be reckoned with, and slaves from across the countryside, men, women, and children, flocked to the growing, now formidable slave army. The 70 who had initially broken out of the gladiator school found themselves backed up by 70,000 of their closest friends.

As the winter of 73 BC approached, Rome had a very big problem on its hands, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. The slaves spent the winter continuing to raid the countryside with impunity, and most importantly, train. Their survival now depended on their ability to stand against the Roman legions on the open battlefield. The core group of mostly Gallic gladiators would individually train groups of new recruits to block, parry, thrust, march, and most importantly, follow orders. Those newly trained individuals would then go off and train their own groups, who would in turn train yet more groups. Using this exponential system of training, by the time the campaign season of 72 finally came around, the slaves were ready.

And it was a good thing, too, because Rome wasn't going to be sending militias this time. No, this time it would be full consular armies. By most accounts, Spartacus' main aim was to make his way north and get out of Italy. His fellow commander, Crixus, however, seemed much more enamored with a life spent pillaging the Roman countryside. So while Spartacus led the bulk of the newly minted army north, Crixus peeled off with about 30,000, the plan being for them to stay in southern Italy and suck up whatever wasn't nailed down. His reasoning, I suppose, was that Rome hadn't been able to stop them so far, and now they were stronger and better equipped. So Crixus was going to get his before he retired. But regular legions are not drafted militias, and untested paraders are not seasoned consuls. And Rome had decided the slave revolt was the business at hand for 72 BC, and sent both consuls for the year, Lucius Gellius Publicola and Gnaeus Cornelius Lentulus, at the head of full consular armies to put down what they now finally recognized to be a full-blown revolt.

Crixus and his force did not last very long. Gellius caught up with him, and the far more disciplined Romans were able to carve their way through the mostly Germanic infantry with ease. At least two-thirds of Crixus's army was killed in the battle, including Crixus himself.

Spartacus, meanwhile, continued to march north towards the Alps. There are two divergent accounts of what happened next. According to the historian Appian, writing in about 160 AD, Lentulus placed his army between Spartacus and the Alps, while Gellius, fresh off his victory over Crixus, followed Spartacus north. The consuls hoped to trap the slaves between their two armies and crush them. But Spartacus acted quickly, and decided to attack Lentulus before Gellius was able to arrive and close the trap. The slave army defeated Lentulus's outnumbered legion, whereupon Spartacus wheeled around when Gellius arrived and beat his army too. Then, just to top things off, the two defeated consular armies regrouped and combined, whereupon Spartacus defeated them again. I call this version Spartacus Totally Rules, starring Spartacus. The Greek historian Plutarch, on the other hand, writing around 100 AD, says simply that Spartacus faced Lentulus and defeated him, before meeting and beating another small Roman legion at the foot of the Alps. No mention is made of facing Gellius or the subsequent third battle. My suspicion is that the latter version, which I call Probably Closer to the Truth, was Probably Closer to the Truth.

But whatever exactly happened in 72, the sources pretty much agree on what happened next. Crassus entered the picture, and brought the Third Servile War to a brutal conclusion. The big gaping hole in this story, though, is having most likely defeated Lentulus, and with nothing standing between him and freedom, why did Spartacus decide to turn around and head back into Italy? And this gets into the real lack of an answer for what the motivations behind the revolt really were. Crassus' motives seemed clear, he wanted to kill Romans and take their stuff. Spartacus obviously had some divergent motivation, or he would have kept the army whole, but if he did, why fight all the way to the Alps just to turn around? We will probably never know why Spartacus turned around, but in any event he did, and the army marched back south.

With the failure of the consuls the previous year to get the job done, though Gellius pretty clearly seemed to have done his part, Crassus saw his chance to win some of that glory that had so eluded him, by putting down the revolt himself. He convinced the Senate to give him the title of Praetor, and command of 50,000 troops, more than enough, he said, to defeat the rebel once and for all. Crassus, by all accounts, was a strict disciplinarian, even going so far as to bring back the old tradition of decimation, by which every tenth soldier of a retreating legion is executed. He definitely came from the old school of thought that the soldiers ought to fear their officers more than the enemy. It didn't endear him to anyone, and Crassus never enjoyed the kind of love and adulation that Caesar or Pompey basked in, but at least this time it got the job done.

Spartacus led his slave army south, all the way to the very toe of Italy, and began to negotiate for passage across the Straits of Messina to Sicily. Obviously Sicily had given birth to the first two Servile Wars, so it seems that Spartacus may have intended to lead a general revolt on the island, acquire new recruits, and, let's say, overthrow the Roman Empire. His wider strategic plans are a complete mystery. All we know is what he did, not why he did it. Being the leader of an outlaw army, he was forced to deal with Sicilian pirates as his only option for faring the army off the mainland. But having paid the pirates, the pirates did what pirates normally do, they took the money and ran. This left Spartacus lighter in the pocketbook, but, more importantly, up the proverbial creek without a paddle.

The toe of Italy is not particularly wide, so as Spartacus was trying to flee Italy by sea, Crassus marched his army down to prevent the slaves from backtracking by land. When the pirates betrayed him, Spartacus was trapped. There is some indication that Spartacus attempted to bargain with Crassus at this point, but Crassus would have none of it. He wasn't simply interested in bringing the revolt to an end, he was interested in defeating the slave army militarily. Crassus had more important things to worry about than the ultimate safety of the Roman people. He had his political career to look out for. And he was banking on a great military victory to catapult him into the upper echelon of the nobility. Negotiate? The consulship was just a day's battle away.

Spartacus and his army were in desperate straits. Hemmed in by Crassus' legions, word also began to filter through the lines that Roman reinforcements were arriving from the east and that Pompey had crossed back into Italy and was heading south to aid Crassus. Spartacus decided that they had to break through Crassus' line now or they would have no hope at all. He concentrated all his strength on one point and eventually his army was able to break through the line, running at full steam to escape the tow of Italy before the reinforcements could arrive. But the escape effort, combined with the nearly two years of continuous struggle and hardship, had finally taken their toll on the unprofessional slave army. 15,000 men were separated from the main force led by Spartacus and were destroyed by Crassus and his pursuing legions. Tension broke down in the slave army as groups began to flee or fight depending on their own disposition. Realizing that he would not be able to keep his army together for much longer, Spartacus decided to make a last stand. His army turned and threw everything it had at Crassus, but it simply wasn't enough. The majority of the slave army, along with Spartacus himself, were killed in the final battle.

Crassus had put down the revolt and stood as the conquering hero of the Third Servile War, and he wouldn't have to share his glory with anybody. Except that about 5,000 slaves had managed to evade capture and continue running north. Pompey was on his way south, with instructions to aid Crassus against the great and terrible slave menace. Not making it in time for the main battle, he instead ran right into these 5,000 fleeing slaves. Exhausted, ill-equipped, and on their last legs, Pompey barely broke a sweat, defeating this last remnant of Spartacus's already defeated army. But master of PR that he was, Pompey sent a message to the Senate announcing that he, Pompey Magnus, had officially brought the uprising to an end. While the honors were being handed out after the legions returned to Rome, Pompey stood side by side with Crassus, accepting credit for things he very obviously did not deserve credit for.

The victory over the slave army was supposed to establish Crassus as the preeminent leader of the Republic, but instead he now shared that distinction with Pompey, much to the former's chagrin and the latter's delight. But the enmity Crassus now bore Pompey was not strong enough to make him miss an obvious political opportunity. Both men stood at the head of large armies, camped outside the city walls, and neither was particularly disposed to disband them until an understanding was reached. They each knew that the other would be their biggest rival for power, but also that there were dozens of other nobles who fancied themselves the next Sulla. So first you have to eliminate the pretenders to the throne before you can deal with the real claimants. So Crassus, Pompey, and the Senate agreed that it was in everyone's best interest for Crassus and Pompey to serve as co-consuls for the next year. From there it would be easy for them to eliminate the weaker competition before inevitably turning on each other to decide the final fate of Rome. Who knew that some impoverished noble named Julius Caesar would wind up beating them both?

The slave revolt led by Spartacus was the last such revolt in Roman history. Crassus would probably tell you that it was the fact that he ordered 6,000 recaptured slaves crucified along the Appian Way as the reason why. You see, though he ordered them crucified, he declined to order that the bodies be removed. The decomposing corpses, then skeletons, served as a stark reminder to slaves everywhere what happens if they forget their place in the world. More likely, though, it was the shifting undercurrents of the Roman economy and Roman politics. The bulk of the Roman wars of territorial expansion, where slaves came from, were now a thing of the past. So not only would there be fewer slaves in the future, but those slaves would inevitably become a more precious commodity. The rampant mistreatment that had characterized the master-slave relationship previously shifted into something more humane. Eventually, in the empire, it would actually become a crime to kill a slave. Imagine that, not being able to destroy your own property. How uncivilized. The declining slave population changed the dynamic. So while slavery was still a terrible thing to endure, it was not so bad that huge armies would spontaneously spring up to threaten the peace.

Now, for the next few hundred years, it is pretty safe to say that the greatest threat to the peace was not revolting slaves or invading foreign armies, but rather the rampant scheming of ambitious nobles to put themselves in charge of the greatest empire the Western world had ever known. It was a race to see who could kill the 500-year-old Republic first. The next week, we will cover one of the more infamous plots, deadly in purpose, but ultimately hilarious in execution. The Conspiracy of Catiline.