037 - Go East Young Man

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome, episode 37, Go East, Young Man. At the end of the last episode, I said that this week we would be covering the ill-conceived conspiracy of Catiline. However, it has come to my attention that the History of Rome's research assistant mixed up the pages of my outline and the conspiracy of Catiline isn't actually scheduled until next week. There is a picture of my helpful assistant being helpful up on the website. She is so helpful. Anyway, this week we will be covering the events that led Pompey to really earn that Magnus honorific he had been saddled with as a joke by Sulla. True detractors can still find reason to be unimpressed with Pompey's exploits in the Eastern Mediterranean, but the fact is he took over a bogged down campaign in Turkey and by the time he was done marching, he had set up a string of pro-Roman protectorates across the East and expanded the frontier of the empire. More impressively, he nearly doubled the tax receipts coming into the Roman treasury. I think it's safe to say that upon his return to Rome, Pompey the Great had truly become Pompey the Great.

In 74 BC, while Pompey was still in Spain and Spartacus was a year away from his breakout, King Nicomedus of Bithynia died and willed his kingdom to Rome. Bithynia was in the northwest corner of modern day Turkey and Rome had helped Nicomedus retain control of his kingdom in the face of Mithridates' ambition to control all of Anatolia. In gratitude, he promised that Bithynia would become a province of Rome upon his death, but Mithridates, who had been stalled but not defeated by Sulla years earlier, decided that now was the perfect opportunity to step into the power vacuum and capture Bithynia for himself before Rome could consolidate its own administration. The small kingdom had strategic value that far outweighed its territorial size as it straddled the Bosporus, the narrow strait that connected the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara, which in turn connected to the Aegean through the Hellespont. Bithynia, in later years, would be the home of the new capital built by Constantine on the western side of the Bosporus and thereafter find itself at the very heart of European and Near Eastern history. So obviously the real estate was highly coveted. Rome wanted it, Mithridates wanted it, therefore war.

Rome sent Marcus Aurelius Cotta to Bithynia to establish a working provincial administration in the former kingdom. At the same time, Lucius Licinius Licullus, a consul from the previous year, was sent to Cilicia, a territory in southern Turkey, as a pre-emptive maneuver against Mithridates. Licullus had been a close ally of Sulla, close enough that the old dictator had dedicated his memoirs to him. At the time, he was considered one of Rome's greatest generals, along with Pompey, Metellus, and though he was on the losing end of the civil war, Quintus Sertorius. Licullus' appointment to the east was definitely a blow to Pompey's ambition, as the east was where the empire was headed, and where riches and glory could be won in spades. It was a plum gig that Licullus had landed, and meanwhile Pompey remained in Spain fighting the last round of the civil war that was so five minutes ago. Pompey tried mightily to get himself reassigned, but to no avail. The coming war with Mithridates would be Licullus' to win or lose. Pompey stood as Licullus set sail.

It did not take long for Mithridates to make his move. With the huge distraction of Spain keeping the majority of the Roman army busy, the Pontic king felt he could win control of Anatolia before Rome realized what was happening. He moved on Bithynia in 73 BC, and besieged Cadus legions. But this was exactly the scenario Licullus had been appointed proconsul to Cilicia to deal with, and the general marched north upon receiving news of the invasion. He drove off Mithridates without too much struggle, and what would become known as the Third Mithridatic War had begun.

Now I know what you're saying. Third Mithridatic War? What about the first two? So let's back up a bit. The First Mithridatic War was Sulla's war, which we covered in detail during the episode Marius and Sulla. The Second Mithridatic War was a brief campaign during Sulla's dictatorship that saw Mithridates make some gains, but the Roman efforts shut down by Sulla before it really got going because he had to make sure resources were going to where they were really needed, and they were really needed in Rome, shoring up his dictatorship. So historians call the events that are about to unfold the Third Mithridatic War, though the second hardly counts at all. And I'll stick with convention and not try and reinvent the wheel.

Licullus was not content to simply sit back and defend what Rome had already acquired, and immediately took the opportunity of Mithridates' invasion to invade Pontus itself. Mithridates fled from his home country east to Armenia, where his son-in-law Tigranus sat on the throne. The two formalized a military alliance to expand on the familial alliance that had been sealed when Tigranus married Mithridates' daughter. Licullus did not immediately pursue Mithridates, and instead spent the next few years consolidating Roman control in Anatolia, control which now covered the entirety of the peninsula. Content that his rear was well guarded, Licullus next sent an ambassador to Armenia in 70 BC, demanding that Tigranus surrender Mithridates to the Romans or risk war.

Armenia was then at the height of its power, and Tigranus was reasonably sure he could fend off any Roman invasion. He could draw from a huge population to fill his army and, unlike the Romans, was not far from home or at the mercy of a logistically daunting supply train. He refused to give up his father-in-law. Surely the Romans could see what a poor position they bargained from. However, much to his surprise, in the summer of 69 BC, Licullus invaded. The two armies met outside Armenia's new, still under construction capital. The historical accounting of the armies ranges anywhere from Licullus leading a mere two legions of around 12,000 against Tigranus' massive army of 250,000 to a more reasonable 40,000 versus 100,000. But everyone agrees the Romans were vastly outnumbered and that when Licullus won the battle it was called one of the greatest in Roman history. As was so often the case in the ancient world, one trained Roman legionary was worth ten constricted peasants.

So Licullus is the man, right? He went down as one of the all-time greats, right? He had conquered Pontus. He had just won one of the most impressive victories in Roman history. He was winning battles as far from home as anyone had ever won. Surely he wouldn't be recalled by the Senate in disgrace and replaced by Pompey, right? Unfortunately, Licullus' victory over Tigranus was not the end of the war. Tigranus fled north and reestablished himself in Armenia's traditional capital. Licullus, meanwhile, remained in the south. He had bumped into the frontier of Parthia and decided to feel out the heirs of the great Persian empire, possibly cement an alliance, before they decided to aid the Armenians against Rome. Tigranus was able to use the time to fortify his position and raise another army.

From this point on, though, things started to go very poorly for Licullus. In 68, he moved north and was able to defeat the Armenians again. However, he had begun his campaign for the year too late, and when he ordered his troops north into the unforgiving Central Asian mountains in pursuit of Tigranus, winter was well on its way. The army refused to budge, and Licullus was forced to withdraw south rather than force the issue this far from home. The next year, Mithridates moved back into Pontus and swept through the residual Roman garrisons left there, taking back the majority of his old kingdom. The near-mutiny was the beginning of the end for Licullus' command.

In a vacuum, he probably would have reasserted control of the army and moved along no worse for the wear. But by this time, Pompey had risen nearly to the top of the Roman political mountain and had allies throughout the empire who were more than willing to stab a few backs to help young Pompey reach the summit. Rumbling and complaining by Licullus' enlisted men, rather than being met with universal pushback by the officers, was instead stoked by a pro-Pompeian contingent who wanted Licullus recalled and Pompey put in charge. So 67 BC was marked by an unusual standoff. Mithridates was too aware of his own vulnerabilities to attack Licullus, but Licullus was unable to make his own men march out and fight. The Pompey faction in Rome was thus able to argue that Licullus had completely lost control of his army and ought to be recalled. They didn't mention, of course, that they themselves were responsible for the mutiny, and without their machinations Licullus probably would have beaten Mithridates by now. The Senate had seen enough, though, and in 66 BC Licullus was ordered to come home.

But don't feel too badly for him. He returned to Rome laden with treasures from the East and spent the rest of his days in semi-retirement living a life of excessive luxury. So renowned were his feasts that the word Licullin is still used as a synonym for lavish. Plus, his recall to Rome did not damage his reputation as much as you might think. And though today he is an obscure figure, he was a big enough deal in his time that he merited inclusion in Plutarch's famous Lives of Noble Greeks and Romans, which is basically the Hall of Fame of the classical world.

With Licullus out of the way, Pompey was granted imperium over the eastern provinces in 66 BC and told to do whatever he thought was in the best interests of Rome. Now, in the four years since his consulship with Crassus in 70 BC, Pompey had not just been laying about. Indeed, Pompey had just come off one of his more impressive undertakings, and if not for what he was about to do in the East, this undertaking may have gone down as his single greatest accomplishment. In 67 BC, Pompey cleared the Mediterranean of pirates. All of them. In three months. Pompey the Great, indeed.

Now, this probably wasn't as hard as it sounds. It was simply a matter of somebody actually putting their shoulder into the project. But still, at the time, piracy was a problem that successive generations of Romans had been unable to solve, and Pompey figured it all out in three months. Taking his cue from Alexander, Pompey did not attempt to solve the riddle of the Gordian Knot, he simply cleaved it in twain and asked what was next on the agenda.

The big hang-up for the Romans was that they were never great sailors and never had much interest in becoming great sailors. They had become reasonably proficient during the Punic Wars out of necessity, but once the Carthaginian navy had been abolished, the Romans returned to the land where they were most comfortable and left the sea to traders. But now the traders were constantly under assault, and Rome's economy was starting to noticeably suffer. So Pompey, looking for other avenues to future glory in case he never did get that command in the East, asked the Senate to put him in charge of the anti-piracy task force. Despite vehement opposition by conservative senators who feared Pompey's growing power, he was granted an extraordinary command, full imperium over the entire Mediterranean Sea including all coastlines up to 50 miles inland. This unprecedented transfer of authority was backed, it should be noted, by a relatively unknown young senator by the name of Julius Caesar, who broke with the majority in the Senate to support Pompey's command.

But the conservative Senate need not have worried. Though Pompey clearly wanted to become known as the greatest general in Roman history, he seemed to have little interest in making himself a dictator. That was a dream for other men, namely unknown young senators named Julius Caesar.

Over the winter, Pompey built ships, trained his troops, and devised a strategy. In the spring, he deployed his navy into 13 separate designated zones, each commanded by a separate legate. Pompey himself sailed with 60 ships, crisscrossing the sea at the head of this mobile command. Pompey's mission was simple, find the pirates and destroy them. Inside of 40 days, the western Mediterranean was clear and the pirates had retreated back to their bases of operation in Cilicia, Lucullus' old province in southern Turkey. Pompey then collapsed on the bases and destroyed the pirate ships with overwhelming force. Left without ships, pirates are just dudes who haven't taken a bath in a while, and Pompey induced most of them to simply surrender, promising to resettle them somewhere where they could take up the noble farming arts, make an honest living for themselves, and of course, pay taxes. Three months since setting sail, the pirate menace was eliminated.

True, the pirates had been living basically unchallenged by the Romans, and their power had been grossly overstated, but still a pretty nice piece of work on Pompey's part. So Pompey remained in Cilicia and the surrounding provinces after he completed his mission, helping the surrendered pirates get settled and overseeing various administrative projects. Mostly though, he was just kind of hanging around in the area, waiting for his allies in the Senate and in Lucullus' army to have his rival recalled. When Lucullus was removed, Pompey was right there to take over. How convenient.

At the head of eight legions, and without the backstabbing Lucullus had to endure, Pompey didn't waste any time marching into Pontus and confronting Mithridates. The king's army was no match, and Pompey defeated him easily. Mithridates, as he had before, fled to Armenia to take refuge with his son-in-law, but this time, Tigranus denied the asylum request. Whether Pompey's reputation was earned or not is one thing. Whether or not this reputation carried with it real-world effects is not. With the great Roman general in the neighborhood, Tigranus felt that the balance of power had shifted. Now was not the time to oppose Rome. Now was the time to make sure that Rome understood that you were its friend, and that you wished it no harm. Mithridates kept on the run, his influence all but gone. Once he had been regarded as Rome's most implacable foe, and hailed as a great hero from Greece to Syria, but now he was little more than a vagrant. The world had moved on, and Rome had moved in.

Tigranus committed suicide in 62 B.C. in relative anonymity. Pompey re-established Roman control of Pontus before moving on to Armenia, where Tigranus welcomed him with open arms and a bended knee. The best hope of the rulers of independent kingdoms when Rome came knocking was to be left in power as a client state. Tigranus hoped that if he could ingratiate himself with Pompey, Armenia would not be turned into a full province. His efforts were successful, and Armenia was never fully incorporated into the empire. Rather, it was left as a buffer zone between Rome and the Parthians.

Leaving Armenia behind, Pompey continued to march east, chasing after Mithridates, and establishing contact with the locals of the Transcaucasus. Eventually he found himself at the banks of the Caspian Sea, as far from home as any Roman army had traveled. But the land was rough and the locals not particularly rich, so Pompey turned around and decided rather to turn south, hugging the east coast of the Mediterranean, which was the true center of the Roman world anyway. He led his army into Syria, where the descendants of Antiochus fought over the throne of what remained of the Seleucid Empire. Pompey solved the issue by deposing the sitting king and establishing Syria as an official Roman province. He then continued south, intent on establishing Roman hegemony over a stretch of ten Hellenized cities in Galilee and Judea, known as the Decapolis. He then moved inland and entered the wealthy city of Jerusalem.

At the time, the city was in turmoil and in the throes of a civil and religious war between two Jewish brothers. Not only was Pompey worried that coastal stability would be threatened by inland instability, but he saw an opportunity to exploit that factionalism in the city. Both sides sought the Roman army's support, and eventually Pompey did pick a side, clearing out the rival faction and putting his favored leader on the throne.

By 62 BC, Pompey decided that it was time to return home. By extending the Roman hegemony all the way to Judea, Pompey completed the Roman version of Manifest Destiny, and the empire now reached across the whole of the Mediterranean, from Gibraltar all the way to Jerusalem. He wound his way back home at the head of 45,000 men, and when he entered Rome, he celebrated the most splendid triumph of his career. No waiting in line, no sarcastic remarks.

As I mentioned earlier, the kingdoms conquered, annexed, or allied with during Pompey's campaign in the east literally doubled the amount of money coming into the Roman treasury, a staggering accomplishment when you think about it. Pompey himself was rich beyond his own dreams, and at the head of 45,000 men, and easily the most popular man in Rome. The conservative senate watched all this with understandable apprehension, but Pompey seemed content to simply bask in the glow of his own fame. In a few short years, though, those same senators who were forever trying to sabotage the young general's meteoric rise would be begging him to save the republic. Sure, he had completely circumvented the cursus honorum, and barely held an elective office, and was hardly old enough to qualify for the rank and status he constantly demanded. But he did not dream of being sulla, and taking over the empire, which made him as staunch a defender of the republic as any existed in those days.

Next week, really this time, we will cover a scheming bumbler named Catiline, who would never be confused with a defender of the republic, or a great general, or, frankly, even a particularly adequate schemer. That a man like him could dream big, violent, egotistical dreams was a sign of the times. Rome was on the brink of disaster, the republic was on the brink of death, Catiline was just the beginning.