The Ancient Biography Thread

[Hero_of_Hanyang]

I have some suggestions-
-Pericles
-Cyrus I
-Qin Shi Huangdi
-Changdragupta
-Thutmose III
-Pompey the Great
-Philip II
-Vercingetorix
-Caligula
-Justinian I

[Cornelius]

Pompey the Great (106-48*), part one

Plutarch compared him to Agesilaus – he would have preferred being compared to Alexander. Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, commonly referred to as Pompey the Great, was indeed a Roman Alexander: famous conqueror, brilliant general and darling of his soldiers. Plutarch’s Life of Pompey is one of his longest and most interesting biographies, a fact that serves well to illustrate the complexity and grandeur of Pompey’s career. One of the finest military leaders Rome ever produced, Pompey the Great celebrated three triumphs, more than doubled Rome’s income through his conquests, and was one of the very few men who ever defeated Julius Caesar on the battlefield. But Pompey is not known solely for his military exploits. Elected consul before becoming a member of the Senate, granted the sensational prerogative of serving as consul without a colleague, and elected to the consulship no less than three times, his political achievements were extraordinary in themselves. Plutarch’s admiration for Pompey, then, appears to be more than justified.

In most cases, a Roman couldn’t expect to lead an army until he was 42 years old, i.e. at the age when he first became eligible for the consulship. The young Gnaeus Pompeius, however, was no adherent of the established order of things, the unwritten mos maiorum. At age 23, Pompey decided to throw in his lot with the exile Lucius Cornelius Sulla – and did so in a most spectacular way. With remarkable speed, Pompey, who was then a private citizen seven years too young to enter the Senate, recruited an army of three legions. With said army, Pompey swiftly marched down the Italian cost with the intention of joining Sulla, defeating several large enemy armies along the way.

How was this possible? How could a 23-year-old privatus recruit such a large army, win its absolute loyalty and crush far superior Roman armies? To answer that question, we need to take a closer look at the young Pompey and his background. Pompey’s family was not of Roman origin, but descended from a region in north-eastern Italy known as Picenum. Nor was this particular branch of the gens Pompeia a very distinguished one. Pompey’s father, Gnaeus Pompeius Strabo, was a novus homo, i.e. he was the first member of his family to hold the consulship, which he did in 89. However, Strabo was not a popular man. Plutarch tells us that “never have the Romans manifested so strong and fierce a hatred towards a general as they did towards Strabo”. Loathed and despised he may have been, but Appian and Plutarch agree that he was also a gifted general who served with distinction during the Social War. In command of the Adriatic theatre of war, he subjugated the Marsi, the Marrucini and the Vestini. Approximately two years later, in 87, he was killed by a thunderbolt during the Marian siege of Rome. The Romans now made a final demonstration of their hatred towards Strabo. Plutarch recounts that when “his body was on its way to the funeral pyre, they [the people of Rome] dragged it from its bier and heaped insults upon it.”

Let us now take a closer look at the young Pompey. The most reliable information about the nature of Pompey is likely presented by Sallust, a contemporary Roman historian. Unfortunately, we only have fragments of Sallust’s works. Nevertheless, these fragments conjure a picture of an ambitious, handsome and audacious man: “excellent looks, shameless character”, “moderate in all else, except domination”, “he used to compete in jumping with the agile, in running with the swift, in using a crowbar with the muscular”, “And yet beginning in his youth he had insulted many good men”. Plutarch adds that he bore a physical resemblance to Alexander the Great: “His hair was inclined to lift itself slightly from his forehead, and this, with a graceful contour of face about the eyes, produced a resemblance, more talked about than actually apparent, to the portrait statues of King Alexander.”

Shortly after the death of his father, Pompey was prosecuted. In court Pompey proved to be a gifted orator, so much so that the praetor in charge of the case conveniently offered him his daughter, Antistia, in marriage. Pompey accepted the offer and was subsequently acquitted.

By this time, Rome was firmly in the hands of Cinna. Marius had died early in 86, seventeen days after entering upon his seventh consulship. Meanwhile in Greece, Sulla was winning the war against Mithridates. Everyone at Rome began to realize that it was only a matter of time before Sulla returned, victorious, to Italy. This meant that civil war was approaching, and thus everyone who mattered had to choose sides. Apparently Pompey first considered joining Cinna, but then changed his mind. In 84, Cinna was killed by his own soldiers, whereupon Cinna’s minion Carbo grabbed power for himself. In 83, Sulla and his army landed in Italy. By that time, Carbo and the consuls Gaius Norbanus and Lucius Scipio had mustered 20 legions against Sulla, who was outnumbered approximately 3-1.

It was at this time that Pompey recruited those three legions. He did so in his home region of Picenum, where he owned vast estates and had an abundance of clients – inherited from his late father, who had been filthy rich and very influential. It must also be assumed that many of Strabo’s retired veterans were settled in Picenum. Thus, Picenum was Pompey’s very own fief from which he could draw manpower for his legions. Money was, as we have seen, not an issue. A valid question is why Pompey did all this. Plutarch says that “when he saw the best and most prominent citizens forsaking their homes and hastening to the camp of Sulla as to a haven of refuge, he himself would not deign to go to him as a fugitive, nor empty-handed, near with requests for help, but only after conferring some favour first, in a way that would gain him honour, and with an armed force.” It is astonishing not only that Pompey was so successful in this enterprise, but also that he attempted it at all. He had, admittedly, served under his father in the Social War, but he was nonetheless quite inexperienced in military matters – and, more importantly, he was 23 years old! To attempt such an ambitious project must have required an enormous self-confidence, and to actually succeed must have required considerable skill and charisma indeed.

Having recruited his three legions, Pompey began marching slowly southwards. Carbo, in response, sent three separate armies against him. These three armies surrounded Pompey in order to annihilate him. Methodically and skillfully, Pompey first engaged and routed one of the enemy armies. This result caused the generals of the two remaining enemy armies to fall out with each other, unable to agree on how to proceed, and they ended up retreating. On his continued way southwards, Pompey encountered two more (other) enemy armies, one of which was led by Lucius Scipio the consul. Before a battle could be fought, Scipio’s men defected to Pompey. Scipio himself fled.

Without further complications, Pompey joined forces with Sulla. The former acknowledged the latter as Imperator and – significantly – was in turn saluted with likewise honour.

End of part one
*All dates are BC

[Davidius]

Caracalla and Cornelius, thanks for the bios, great reading!

[Cornelius]

Originally Posted by Davidius

Caracalla and Cornelius, thanks for the bios, great reading!

And thank you for reading.

[Cornelius]

Pompey the Great, part 2

The way in which Sulla treated the young Pompey is quite remarkable and deserves a degree of analysis. Whenever Pompey approached, Sulla would rise and uncover his head – honours he never showed anyone else. Why did Sulla do this? The simplest answer, that provided by Plutarch and Appian, is that Sulla truly thought exceptionally highly of Pompey due to his recent achievements. That answer is not, however, satisfactory. It must be remembered that Sulla himself was a military mastermind who would not be easily impressed, and also that he had many able lieutenants in his service – e.g. Metellus Pius and Lucullus. Furthermore, Sulla was a highly conservative aristocrat who, during his dictatorship, enforced very strict age requirements for public office. Finally, while Pompey’s achievements so far were certainly worthy of a very gifted general, they didn’t warrant such ludicrous displays of awe that Sulla put up. So why did Sulla honour a 23-year-old privatus in this way? My theory is based on an analysis of these two men’s characters. Pompey was, as we have seen, a terribly ambitious and self-opinionated man with seemingly boundless self-confidence and a physical resemblance to Alexander the Great. His seniors would likely have found these character traits irritating enough, but, according to Sallust, it also seems that Pompey had a talent for insulting important people. Sulla, on the other hand, was notorious for his keen sense of humor, his ready wit and his love for the theatrical. Imagine, then, Sulla’s reaction upon meeting Pompey. Plutarch sets the scene:

[...] when Pompey learned that he [Sulla] was near, he ordered his officers to have the forces fully armed and in complete array, that they might present a very fine and brilliant appearance to the imperator; for he expected great honours from him, and he received even greater.

I think that Sulla saw in Pompey a boastful, obnoxious, arrogant and exceptionally over-confident boy filled up with his own illusory importance. And I think that Sulla found Pompey’s behavior exquisitely amusing. Thus, I think that Sulla’s exaggerated displays of respect were in fact highly deliberate jests, which Pompey may or may not have perceived as insults. Certainly, a few years later the relation between Pompey and Sulla was very cold indeed. We shall return to this topic later, but let us now resume the historical narrative.

What now followed was a bloody and gruesome civil war which ended late in 82, when Sulla won a decisive victory over his remaining enemies in the battle of the Colline Gate. Of Pompey’s activities in this war we know quite little. It would appear that he was sent to Cisalpine Gaul to aid Metellus Pius, who, according to Plutarch, “was doing nothing worthy of the armament at his disposal”. Appian mentions Pompeian victories near Senae, Clusium and in the plain of Spoletium, as well as an ambush in which Pompey annihilated eight of Carbo’s legions. Scarce the details may be, but there can be no doubt that Pompey did brilliantly.

Now, having defeated his enemies and taken Rome, Sulla wished to reward his loyal lieutenants. But what was he to do with Pompey, who in a dangerous combination personified all the evils which had caused the civil war in the first place: boundless ambition, contempt for the mos maiorum and enormous talent? How was Sulla to make sure that Pompey in future remained subservient to the Sullan constitution, that he wouldn’t usurp the state like Marius and Sulpicius had done in 88, and that he didn’t suddenly turn on Sulla? Proscribing him was out of the question – Sulla was unpopular enough as it was, whereas Pompey had become the darling of the people – and, besides, for the moment the Dictator was in need of Pompey’s services. Following Sulla’s victories in Italy, Carbo had fled to Sicily, while another leader of the opposition, Domitius, had fled to Africa. Sulla needed someone he could trust to eliminate these threats once and for all, since he himself was presently unable to leave Rome. In short, Sulla needed to bind the military prodigy that was Pompey to him. Thus, supported by his wife Caecilia Metella Dalmatica, the Dictator offered Pompey his step-daughter Aemilia Scaura in marriage. Daughter of the famous Marcus Aemilius Scaurus, who had been consul in 115, censor in 109 as well as princeps senatus, Aemilia was quite a catch for Pompey. Consequently, poor Antistia was rapidly divorced, despite the fact that she had recently lost both her father (through murder) and her mother (through suicide). Aemilia, on the other hand, was already with child by another man. Nevertheless, arrangements were made and suddenly Pompey had a shiny new trophy wife. Unfortunately, Aemilia died in childbirth within months.

With Italy firm in his grasp, Sulla sent Pompey with a large army to Sicily. The island fell to him without a fight. With the sole exception of Messana, Pompey treated the Sicilian cities kindly. The Cinnans were executed on the spot, except for Carbo himself. Pompey ordered his men to bring Carbo before him in chains, whereupon Pompey first publicly humiliated him and then had him decapitated. The head was sent to Sulla in Rome. The Dictator, in response, sent a letter to Pompey – who had now been nicknamed aduluscentulus carnifex, the Teenage Butcher – ordering him to invade Africa, where Domitius had assembled a considerable army. So Pompey, leaving his brother-in-law Memmius as governor of Sicily, set sail for Africa together with six legions. He landed near Utica, the most important city of Rome’s Africa Province, whereupon seven thousand of Domitius’ soldiers immediately defected to him. Now, some of Pompey’s men stumbled over a minor treasure. A rumour then began circulating that the Carthaginians had hidden an even larger treasure in the vicinity, which caused his entire army to go treasure-hunting. The men were so determined to find the treasure that Pompey could do nothing but walk among them and laugh at their folly. After a few days of eager – albeit futile – digging, the soldiers gave up. This was just as well, because Domitius was now approaching with twenty thousand men. Domitius deployed his army in front of a ravine which was quite difficult to cross, but a violent storm forced him to withdraw. Taking advantage of the bad weather, Pompey swiftly crossed the ravine and fell upon the enemy rear. Absolutely unprepared for this, Domitius’ men were thrown into disorder and confusion. To add to their misery, the wind was driving the rain straight into their faces. Unable to endure the onslaught, Domitius’ army routed. There were only three thousand survivors. Pompey’s victory was complete, but during the battle he suffered a minor incident. Apparently, the rain was very heavy, which made it rather difficult to tell friend from foe. Thus, one of Pompey’s men mistook him for an enemy soldier and almost killed him before he managed to identify himself. Apart from this little incident, everything went splendidly for Pompey. His men hailed him as Imperator on the field, a title that he graciously refused to accept until the enemy camp had been destroyed. So Domitius’ camp was assaulted, and the enemy leader was slain. Pompey, startled after the above-mentioned incident, fought this battle without a helmet, so as to make it easier for his men to recognize him.

Pompey now decided to invade Numidia, for the Numidians had apparently sent aid to Domitius. Said and done, Numidia was swiftly conquered – though there doesn’t seem to have been much opposition. The Imperator then declared that not even the wild animals of Africa were to escape a taste of Roman power; he spent the next couple of days hunting lions and elephants, no doubt planning to bring some to Rome for his triumph. For it must be assumed that he expected to be granted a triumph, having been hailed as Imperator on the field. The title was probably well-deserved. All in all, it had taken the 24-year-old but forty days to subdue Africa and Numidia.

Back in Rome, the Dictator was naturally very pleased with his successful subordinate. There was only one problem – Pompey had been a little too successful. In command of six legions that were absolutely loyal to him, Pompey had become a force to be reckoned with. The balance of power had shifted, and that didn’t please Sulla at all. Thus, when Pompey returned to Utica, he found a letter from Sulla waiting for him. In it, he was commanded to disband all but one of his legions and remain in Africa until his replacement arrived. Pompey was, of course, deeply distressed at this, but refused to show his feelings to the army. However, when he tried to send the men back home, they wouldn’t go. They declared that they would not abandon their general and that he should not trust Sulla. What followed next was an absurd little episode where Pompey tried, unsuccessfully, to disband his legions. Unable to persuade them, he finally declared that if they didn’t obey him, he would kill himself. Now, at last, the men yielded.

The upshot of all this was a rumour saying that Pompey was in revolt. Upon hearing of this rumour, the Dictator complained to his friends that “it was evidently his fate, now that he was an old man, to have his contests with boys.” But he needn’t have worried. Before long, he learned the truth when Pompey, without his army, returned to Rome. A great body of citizens, headed by Sulla himself, waited for him at the city gates. He received a warm welcome indeed – and Sulla even went so far as to salute him as Magnus, the Great. Here we must pause for a moment, for we have just witnessed another example of Sulla’s exaggerated displays of respect for Pompey. Why did Sulla give Pompey the name “Magnus”? The ancient sources tell us nothing about the Dictator’s motive, and consequently it has simply been assumed that Sulla honestly felt that Pompey deserved to be called “the Great”. However, it has also been suggested that Sulla gave Pompey the epithet “Magnus” as some kind of sarcastic joke. This suggestion has no historical substantiation whatsoever, i.e. there is no explicit evidence to be found in the ancient sources to support it. Nevertheless, it is a highly convincing theory, as we shall see shortly. Pompey, having returned from his successfully concluded African campaign, was full of pride and arrogance – indeed, hubris. He even had the gall to tell Sulla, when the Dictator wouldn’t let him triumph, that more people worship the rising than the setting sun – a remark that speaks volumes of how Pompey looked upon himself. He considered his rising power to be quite as great as Sulla’s fading power, and imagined that he would soon overshadow the Dictator. This was, naturally, a delusion. It seems plausible that Sulla, a formidable man and certainly a far greater general than Pompey, would have found the 24-year-old’s behavior highly amusing. The victories Pompey had won were no doubt noteworthy, but they didn’t merit such spectacular over-confidence that Pompey now displayed. It must here, once again, be remembered that Sulla had a keen sense of humor and loved a good jest. So, since Pompey bore a physical resemblance to Alexander the Great and was already a famous conqueror at the age of 24, Sulla may have thought it amusing to further emphasize Pompey’s similarities with Alexander by giving him Alexander’s epithet – as a joke, not because he thought that Pompey actually deserved it. Some people are skeptical to theories such as this, which is understandable. It lacks, as has been mentioned, historical substantiation. Nonetheless, personally I find it convincing enough to believe it.

We have already seen that Pompey expected to be granted a triumph; his hunting expedition in Africa is proof enough of that, which will soon become evident. Having received a warm welcome by the people of Rome, then, Pompey bluntly demanded a triumph of Sulla. But Sulla refused, saying that only consuls and praetors were allowed to triumph. Pompey, it will be remembered, was not yet a senator, but belonged to the Ordo Equester, the Equestrian Order. For a knight to triumph through the streets of Rome was utterly unthinkable. Angrily, Pompey persisted, famously declaring that more people worship the rising than the setting sun. Astonished by Pompey’s boldness, Sulla cried out twice in succession: “Let him triumph!” So Pompey was allowed to triumph after all. This was not enough, however, because he wanted his triumph to be something out of the ordinary. It was custom for the triumphator to ride in a chariot drawn by four horses, but Pompey wanted his chariot to be drawn by four elephants. It is very possible that he had planned this while he was still in Africa, since he had brought plenty of elephants back to Rome with him. To his great humiliation, the elephants wouldn’t fit through the city gate, so he had to replace them with regular horses. As if this wasn’t enough, some of his soldiers were creating havoc, claiming that they hadn’t been given a fair share of the African booty. Thus, the triumph Pompey had wanted so badly ended up a disaster – a fiasco.

End of part two

[Arete]

Excellent biography, Cornelius! I've always been curious about Pompey. Can't wait for part three!

[Cornelius]

Originally Posted by Arete

Excellent biography, Cornelius! I've always been curious about Pompey. Can't wait for part three!

Thanks! Part three should be up in a few days.

[Cornelius]

Pompey the Great, part 3

It would appear that, either shortly after or shortly before his triumph in 81, Pompey Magnus was offered to become a senator. Surprisingly, Pompey turned the offer down, stating that he wanted an unconventional career that didn’t follow the regular pattern. Thus, Pompey remained a knight. The following year, the Dictator (who may or may not have laid down his dictatorship late in 81) made an announcement that caused something of a sensation in Rome. Having held the consulship for the second time together with Metellus Pius Pontifex Maximus in 80, Sulla declared that he would now exit the political arena. He and his wife Valeria were going to move to the country, where he intended to live out the rest of his days as a private citizen. The man who had killed or exiled 2600 knights, 90 senators and 15 consulars was retiring, leaving Rome in the hands of the Senate and People.

Shortly after Sulla’s second consulship had expired, Pompey began canvassing on behalf of his favourite candidate for the consulship of 78, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus – father of the future triumvir Marcus Aemilius Lepidus. Intriguingly, Lepidus was a passionate anti-Sullan who was publicly proclaiming his intention of repealing the Sullan constitution. Why, then, would Pompey, hitherto an ardent supporter of Sulla, suddenly change sides and join the opposition? Admittedly, Aemilia had by this time died in childbirth and thus there was no longer a marriage-alliance between Sulla and Pompey. That does not, however, explain Pompey’s behavior. My theory is quite simple and based on my previous discussions of the relation between the two men. As I have mentioned, I believe that Sulla saw in Pompey a boastful, obnoxious, arrogant and exceptionally over-confident boy filled up with his own illusory importance. I have also stated that I believe that Sulla’s exaggerated displays of respect for Pompey were in fact highly deliberate jests, which Pompey may or may not have perceived as insults. Finally, I have said that Sulla most likely gave Pompey the epithet “the Great” as a sarcastic joke. This latter theory can perhaps be supported by the fact that Pompey didn’t start using the name “Magnus” until later in his career – either due to modesty, or because he knew that Sulla hadn’t been serious in giving it to him. Considering that Pompey, as we have seen, was hardly a modest man, the latter explanation seems more plausible. If, then, we assume that my conclusions are correct, it makes perfect sense that Pompey would begin opposing Sulla once it was safe to do so. However, this is mere guesswork on my part and I might, of course, be wrong.

In any case, the young Imperator wielded considerable influence and thus Lepidus was elected senior consul. Lepidus’ consular colleague was Quintus Lutatius Catulus, the soon-to-be leader of the Sullan faction. The consuls hated each other bitterly and immediately began quarreling. After the election, Sulla angrily remarked to Pompey: “I see, young man, that you rejoice in your victory. And surely it was a generous and noble thing for Lepidus, the worst of men, to be proclaimed consul by a larger vote than Catulus, the best of men, because you influenced the people to take this course. Now, however, it is time for you to be wide awake and watchful of your interests, for you have made your adversary stronger than yourself.” At last, then, Sulla and Pompey were in open conflict. But this state of affairs would not last long. In 78, at the age of 60, Lucius Cornelius Sulla died. As could be expected, Lepidus tried to prevent Sulla being granted a state funeral. In this he failed – due to the efforts of Pompey according to Plutarch, but due to the efforts of Catulus according to Appian. I shall go with Appian. The funeral was magnificent, and Sulla’s ashes were buried in the royal burial ground of the Campus Martius. His will showed more clearly than anything else what he had really thought of Pompey – the young Imperator wasn’t even mentioned.

Immediately after the funeral, trouble arose. Lepidus was agitating fiercely for the restoration of the pre-Sullan constitution, and the Sullan party headed by Catulus was opposing him just as fiercely. It would appear that Lepidus enjoyed considerable popular support throughout Italy, for once he had been allotted the province of Transalpine Gaul for his proconsulship he mustered an army and marched on Rome. Moreover, he sent his ally Marcus Junius Brutus – father of the future tyrannicide Marcus Junius Brutus – with an army to capture Cisalpine Gaul. The Senate responded by sending Pompey against Brutus, while Catulus was appointed to defend the city of Rome against Lepidus. A battle was fought close to the Campus Martius, from which Catulus emerged victorious. Lepidus fled to Sardinia, where he learned that his wife was an adulteress. He died shortly thereafter, reportedly from some kind of disease. In the meantime, Pompey was besieging Mutina, where Brutus was residing. Before long, Brutus surrendered. Despite having surrendered, Brutus was deceitfully murdered on Pompey’s orders. This treacherous behavior was publicly condemned, and one imagines that the words aduluscentulus carnifex were on everybody’s lips. As the threat to Rome was now gone, the Senate ordered Pompey to disband his army. But Pompey, refusing to obey and making one excuse after another, remained under arms close to the city. The young general had a plan that would change his live forever.

Back in 83, when the civil war was laying waste to Italy, a man of Cinnan loyalties, about forty years of age and of praetorian rank decided that all hope was lost. The man was badly scarred and had even lost an eye in battle, but he bore these injuries with pride, deeming them evidence of his brave deeds. His name was Quintus Sertorius. Having rightly concluded that the war in Italy was lost, Sertorius fled to Spain, where he intended to offer a refuge for the enemies of Sulla. But Sullan forces drove him out of the Iberian Peninsula, forcing him to flee to Mauretania. Eventually, he was invited by a powerful Spanish tribe – the Lusitani – to become their leader. Sertorius accepted the offer, and before long he had made himself master of almost the entire Iberian Peninsula. Back in Rome, Sulla was beginning to feel threatened. Thus he sent one of his most able lieutenants, Metellus Pius Pontifex Maximus, to Spain with orders to crush Sertorius. But the Dictator had severely underestimated the threat that Sertorius posed to his regime. Using highly effective guerilla tactics, Sertorius inflicted defeat upon defeat on Metellus Pius. In 77, after Lepidus had been defeated, one of Lepidus’ subordinates – Marcus Perperna Veiento – fled to Sertorius with the remains of Lepidus’ army. When this became known, the Senate feared that Sertorius would attempt an invasion of Italy. As such, a new army had to be dispatched to Spain – only, who would command it? This, then, was Pompey’s grand plan – being sent to Spain to fight Sertorius. The proposition was made by Lucius Marcius Philippus, and a desperate Senate gave in. Pompey would be sent to Spain non pro consule, sed pro consulibus – i.e., not in place of a consul, but on behalf of the consuls. Thus, he was given proconsular imperium without actually being made proconsul. It was an important technical detail, since Pompey was still a privatus.

We do not know how many legions Pompey brought with him to Spain – perhaps six is a reasonable estimation? Whatever the size of his army may have been, once he had received his desired Spanish command Pompey immediately crossed the Alps and made his way towards the Pyrenees. However, the proconsul who wasn’t a proconsul opened an entirely new passage through the Alps – which, he stresses in a letter to the Senate (recounted by Sallust), was different from Hannibal’s path. Upon arriving in Spain, Pompey must indeed have felt very pleased with himself. He had gotten his wish, and now he was going to bring the war to a swift and successful conclusion. But he should have been careful what he wished for. He had hardly crossed the Pyrenees before he suffered his first defeat. One of his legions, which he had sent out to forage, was ambushed and completely annihilated by Sertorius. In a flash, before the actual campaign had even begun, Pompey had lost six thousand men. One can imagine how he must have felt. He had never suffered a defeat before and he was used to being vastly superior to the commanders he faced. The realization that he had met his match must have hit him hard.

Despite this setback, Pompey’s arrival in Spain encouraged several Spanish cities to rebel against Sertorius. Among these was Lauron. Thus, when Sertorius besieged it, Pompey hurried to its rescue. Nearby the city there was a hill, of which Sertorius had taken command. Pompey positioned himself so that Sertorius was caught between the city and Pompey’s army. Then he sent a message to the people of Lauron, confidently suggesting that they take place on the city walls so that they could see him destroy Sertorius. When Sertorius heard of this, he laughed contemptuously, saying that he would teach Sulla’s pupil – that being his condescending nickname for Pompey – a lesson, namely that a general must look behind him rather than in front of him. At this, six thousand of Sertorius’ men appeared behind Pompey’s army and threatened to fall upon its rear. Thus surrounded, Pompey had no choice but to withdraw. Lauron immediately surrendered to Sertorius, and Pompey was forced to watch him burn the city to the ground. The proconsul who wasn’t a proconsul had been utterly humiliated, and the defections to him promptly stopped.

Pompey may not have been able to defeat Sertorius himself on the battlefield, but he was more than able to beat Sertorius’ lieutenants. Thus, near Valentia he inflicted a crushing defeat on Perperna, killing more than ten thousand enemy soldiers.

Encouraged by this victory, Pompey decided to once again challenge Sertorius. However, Metellus Pius and his army were rapidly approaching, and Pompey didn’t want to share the glory of having beaten Sertorius with him. So, rather than waiting for much-needed reinforcements, Pompey engaged Sertorius near the river Sucro. The command of Pompey’s left wing was given to his legate Lucius Afranius, while Pompey himself took command of the right wing. On the opposite side, Sertorius was facing Afranius’ wing while an unknown lieutenant (possibly Perperna) faced Pompey. Whereas Sertorius did well against Afranius on the right, his left wing was wavering before the onslaught of Pompey. As such, he hurried to his left wing and rallied his fleeing soldiers. Then he charged and pushed Pompey backwards until Pompey’s men began routing. Fighting valiantly, Pompey was wounded in the thigh by a spear. He came very close to being captured by the enemy, but managed to escape by abandoning his magnificently ornate horse. Sertorius’ men captured the horse and, instead of pursuing the fleeing Pompey, began distributing the golden decorations among themselves. In the meantime, Afranius had routed Sertorius’ right wing. But, as darkness fell, Sertorius returned to his right wing and fell upon Afranius’ men, slaying thousands of them. Since it was now dark, Sertorius decided to wait until the morning before he launched a final attack on Pompey’s defeated army. When, in the morning, he prepared his men for battle, he discovered that Metellus Pius was drawing near. Frustrated, Sertorius withdrew, exclaiming: “If it wasn’t for this old woman, I would have given this boy a sound beating and sent him back to Rome!” To clarify, “the old woman” was Sertorius’ condescending nickname for Metellus Pius, while “the boy” refers to Pompey. On the whole, however, the battle of the Sucro was a great success for Sertorius and a terrible defeat for Pompey.

When Metellus Pius arrived on the scene, Sertorius was long gone. It would appear that the battle of the Sucro inflicted a severe blow on Pompey’s self-confidence. Yet Metellus Pius did what he could to encourage him, treating him kindly and considerately. When, for example, Pompey ordered his lictors to lower their fasces out of deference to Metellus Pius, who was a consular of great prestige as well as Pontifex Maximus, the latter stopped him, refusing to assume any superiority over him.

Now, Pompey and Metellus Pius decided to combine their forces in the hope of then being able to beat Sertorius. The result was the battle of Saguntum – the last great battle of the Sertorian War. It lasted from noon till night, and it would seem that Sertorius was pitted against Pompey, while Metellus Pius faced Perperna. In the first stage of the battle, Sertorius once again routed Pompey’s army, killing nearly six thousand of Pompey’s men. However, in the process he lost three thousand men himself, and on his other flank Metellus Pius had inflicted heavy casualties on Perperna. Thus, Sertorius came to Perperna’s aid and the enemy began to waver. But Metellus Pius, to quote Plutarch, “was holding his ground with a vigour that belied his years, and fighting gloriously”. When he was hit by a spear, his men first carried him to safety, and then, filled with rage, began to drive Sertorius back. In the end, Sertorius had no choice but to retreat. Although the casualties had been heavy on both sides, the battle of Saguntum was a clear victory for Metellus Pius and Pompey.

But Sertorius had in no way been decisively beaten. Before long he received reinforcements and renewed the war effort. He spent the summer cutting off the enemies’ supply lines, both at land and at sea. This forced Metellus Pius and Pompey to separate and to withdraw to Gaul and northern Spain respectively. Pompey was in desperate need of supplies, money and reinforcements, so he sent a letter to the Senate, threatening that if supplies were not sent to him he would bring his army back to Italy and with it the entire Spanish war. The letter was read in the Senate, and the consuls Lucullus and Cotta made sure that money and two legions were sent to Pompey. In the meantime, Metellus Pius posted a reward of one hundred talents and twenty thousand acres of land on Sertorius’ head.

The following year was uneventful in that no big battles were fought, but there were plenty of skirmishes. However, it became increasingly clear that Sertorius was losing. Appian tells us that he had been “smitten by some heaven-sent madness, for he relaxed his labours, fell into habits of luxury, and gave himself up to women, carousing and drinking, and as a result was defeated continually”. This caused resentment among his subordinates, and a conspiracy to murder him took form. The leader of this conspiracy was Perperna, who, during a banquet, succeeded in assassinating Sertorius. Now in command of a mutinous army, Perperna engaged Pompey and was soundly defeated. Having been taken prisoner, Perperna demanded to see Pompey, claiming that he had in his possession letters from Roman senators who had in secret been supporting Sertorius. Pompey, however, feared that if the content of these letters became public knowledge, civil war would erupt. Thus he had Perperna executed and the letters burned. The Sertorian War was finally over, but Pompey remained in Spain for a while, settling affairs and organizing the provinces. It had taken him five years to end the war – and one wonders what the outcome would have been, if Sertorius hadn’t been murdered?

End of part three

[jttwong]

Let me contribute a little: Biography of Liu Wu, 3rd Prince of Chu

Prince Liu Wu (the Chinese usage of wang can be translated as either prince or king; i have always avoided the king translation to prevent confusion between a feudal prince and the emperor), was the grand-nephew of Han founding emperor Emperor Gaozu. He inherited his title as prince after his father's untimely death. The prince governed one of the wealthiest and most important regions in Han China - Peng Cheng - hometown of Emperor Gaozu. However, his luck turned when he was caught drinking and having sex during the mourning period for recently deceased Grand Empress Dowager Bo, mother of Emperor Wen of Han and grandmother of Emperor Jing of Han.

In a fit of rage over the disrespect for his grandmother, Emperor Jing ordered seizure of half of Liu Wu's fiefdom. This influenced Liu's decision to partake in a rebellion against the emperor with other princes later deemed the Rebellion of the Seven States. The rebellion was put down by the emperor and Liu committed suicide upon defeat to avoid capture. Fortunately for the modern generation, Liu Wu's son Liu Li was permitted to succeed the his father's fiefdom and title. Liu Li buired Liu Wu at Lion Mountain which was discovered in the mid-1990s by an archaeological team.

[jttwong]

Biography of Ahmose I (this was previously posted with pictures on my blog JTT presents: A Little Known Chapter of History: The Founder of the 18th Dynasty, Ancestor of King Tut: Ahmose I)

Introduction:

Egypt had been occupied by foreign invaders for the better part of a century before Ahmose's birth by foreigners deemed Hyksos by the Egyptians. The origins of these warriors are lost to history and even their name, Hyksos, comes from Egyptian records that referred to them as "hekau khasut" (the Shepherd Kings) and Hyk-Khase (rulers of a foreign land). After extensive interactions along the border between Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula, the Hyksos had invaded northern Egypt and became the first Asiatic pharaohs of Egypt.


(Head of Ahmose I - Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art)



Originally being a prince of the Theban house, Ahmose I’s feud with his Asiatic enemies had been a family tradition as both his father and brother were committed to eradicating the Hyksos’ presence in Egypt. With Egyptian national pride destroyed by foreign invasion and family tradition to upkeep, Ahmose I began a long battle to defeat the alien aggressors and recuperate Egypt’s golden age through readapting of Middle Kingdom culture and architecture. His legacy both as a liberator and as an initiator of art reverberated throughout his dynasty up beyond his last successor, Tutankhamen’s, death.

After extensive interactions along the border between Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula, the Hyksos had invaded northern Egypt and became the first Asiatic pharaohs of Egypt. Originally being a prince of the Theban house, Ahmose I’s feud with his Asiatic enemies had been a family tradition as both his father and brother were committed to eradicating the Hyksos’ presence in Egypt. With Egyptian national pride destroyed by foreign invasion and family tradition to upkeep, Ahmose I began a long battle to defeat the alien aggressors and recuperate Egypt’s golden age through readapting of Middle Kingdom culture and architecture. His legacy both as a liberator and as an initiator of art reverberated throughout his dynasty up beyond his last successor, Tutankhamen’s, death.


Family Background:

Ahmose I comes from a long tradition of opposition against the Hyksos occupation. His father Seqenenre Tao, in a political symbolic act of rebellion, had reintroduced the ancient Egyptian ritual of Edfu in which participants would harpoon hippopotami during Hyksos king Apophis’ reign. This ritual was to symbolically legitimize Horus’ claim to the throne by avenging his father’s death through killing Seth. Since Horus was the representative of the Egyptian monarchy and the Hyksos, despite being ‘rulers of foreign lands’, had actually adopted the Egyptian deity Seth as their patron god, Seqenenre’s act would have angered them and likely began the war between Avaris and Thebes.


Sequenenre was likely killed in this conflict because his mummy was recovered with five obvious axe wounds to the head reminiscent to the weapons used by the Hyksos and he was succeeded by his son (and Ahmose’s brother), Kamose. Kamose led a campaign against the Hyksos in which he claimed a victory, but the success was likely indecisive since Avaris successfully resisted Ahmose I’s attack for more than two decades after this campagin. Yet, after this campaign in his third year, there were few other confirmed sources of his reign. Moreover, his tomb was hastily prepared without sufficient royal decorations or an appropriate coffin. Inferring from these two factors and Ahmose I’s ascendancy to the throne two years after Kamose’s campaign, historians tend to believe that Kamose died in battle after a five-year reign as absolute evidence had been lost with the destruction of his mummy during excavation.


(The mummified head of Seqenenre Tao II - Source: Cairo Museum & Getty Images)



(Source: Tupper Scrapbooks Collection)

The Liberation of Egypt

Upon Kamose’s death, Ahmose I ascended to the throne but since he was still in minority, his mother, Ahhotep, ruled as regent until he was of age a decade later. When he was finally able to personally rule Egypt, he embarked upon what his father and brother left off and began his expedition to expel the Hyksos from Egypt while leaving his wife, Ahmose-Nefertari, in charge of the Theban domestic government.



(Face of Ahhotep from her sarcophagus - Source: Cairo Museum)

Unlike the attacks launched by Kamose which were likely indecisive raids, Ahmose I’s siege on Avaris spanning a period of decades was relentless. During this time, there were constant interruptions due to local dissidents in different regions already liberated from Hyksos control. Contemporary historians cannot be sure of exactly how the battles were fought but it is known from the records of a soldier in the pharaoh’s army known as Ahmose, Son of Ebany, that many battles were fought before Avaris was captured.

(To avoid confusion as the two shares names, the pharaoh will be referred to Ahmose I while the soldier will be referred to as Ahmose, Son of Ebana)

Ebana had served in the Theban army under Ahmose I’s father, Seqenenre Tao, and his son, Ahmose, son of Ebana, rose through the ranks and became a captain in Ahmose I’s navy because of an act of bravery in the king’s presence. Although the exact deeds of this act during the first siege were unrecorded in the Autobiography of Ahmose, the text did depict the four sieges of Avaris where Ahmose, son of Ebana, had received many honors as a result of his courage and contributions.


(Ahmose, Son of Ebana - Source: St. Louis University)

This included the valiant slaying of a Hyksos warrior in the Pa-Djedku canal during the second siege of Avaris. To validate his accomplishments, he had cut off his enemy’s hand and shown it to the royal herald and Ahmose I, upon hearing Ahmose, son of Ebana,’s success, rewarded him a Gold of Valor which was a medal endowed to warriors demonstrating great courage. After these battles, the siege of Avaris was interrupted due to a rebellion to the South of the Hyksos capital but its exact location remains unclear as Autobiography of Ahmose focused upon Ahmose, Son of Ebana,’s deeds instead of exact information. However, it was known that Avaris was not captured until the campaign was south was effectively won and in the final battle for Avaris, Ahmose, son of Ebana, successfully captured four prisoners alive which he was allowed to keep as slaves. According to the Autobiography of Ahmose, the sacking of Avaris was monumental as it finally ridded the century-long Hyksos rule in Lower Egypt.

The Expansion of the Egyptian Empire

Despite, his resounding victory in Avaris, Ahmose I’s concern about the Hyksos resurrection did not die down and he decided to pursue them into southwest Palestine. This marked a change in Egyptian foreign policy as the preceding dynasties rarely expanded militarily beyond its borders despite the prosperity of the Old and Middle Kingdom. Ahmose I began the tradition of the New Kingdom pharaohs as warriors and his attacks in Palestine was arguably the first instance of Egypt’s imperial expansion. He laid siege to and captured the final Hyksos stronghold in Sharuhen, which is likely to be Tel Far’ah, in three years. This effectively eliminated the Asiatic threat from the Sinai Peninsula and enhanced Egypt’s domestic security. Moreover, the Egypt economy was ameliorated due to the control they could now exercise upon the trade routes from Asia.

After successfully defeating the Hyksos in Palestine, Ahmose I began expanding further northwards. Unlike the invasion of Sharuhen which could be justified as a pre-emptive strike against an enemy, Ahmose’s entry into Lebanon personified Egyptian expansionism which endured through the rest of the New Kingdom era. It also allowed Ahmose to capture vital materials that were limited in supply Egypt such as cedar wood and copper. Although Ahmose did not occupy too much of the Middle-East through irregular incursions, he established a foothold for his successors to extending the Egyptian frontier. Amenhotep I, Ahmose I’s successor, invaded the Orontes river region while Thutmose I, Amenhotep I’s successor, occupied Syria and Lebanon.

Ironically, it was the Asiatic Hyksos themselves who prompted this new-found Egyptian aggression begun by Ahmose I. Originally, the Egyptian efforts to repel their foreign occupiers proved disastrous as the Hyksos possessed comparatively greater technology because of the aforementioned Egyptian racial supremacy perspective. Because of this, the advanced composite bows utilized to great success by the Hyksos destroyed the ‘Egyptian’ (they were actually Nubian mercenaries) archers which used the Egyptian wooden bow. The composite bow’s effects on the Late Bronze Age was comparable to the introduction of firearms during the Middle Ages as it was far more effective in both range and power. Moreover, the Egyptians also gained skill in chariotry which was nearly unknown to Egypt prior to the Hyksos occupation but became the cream of their army by the New Kingdom. Egypt also developed great equestrian skills (despite the lack of a cavalry) for chariot and dispatch horsemen. Moreover, the Hyksos destroyed the Egyptian sense of security which compelled the revamping of administrative procedures and military structure.

Civil Governance under Ahmose I

In order to consolidate his power, Ahmose I reorganized civil administration and the leadership role was given the two Viziers with the duty to govern Upper and Lower Egypt respectively. Yet, he also took preventive measures to ensure that the local governments would not disobey him by installing royal stewards.

This new system rejuvenated the decentralized governance during the Middle Kingdom which was more analogous to a series of feudal states rather than a single collective kingdom. Ahmose I also placed irrigation and other agricultural procedures under governmental supervision which heightened the central authorities’ effectiveness. This was further demonstrated by Ahmose I’s ability to rent out lands in the Nile delta which he had not captured until his 13th renal year. If the local governors had not proven loyal and competent, it would have been impossible for Ahmose to have sufficient control over these territories to lease them.

In order to maintain political stability during his expeditions away from Thebes, he endowed his principal wife (and sister), Ahmose-Nefertari, with the title of ‘one who presides over the whole of the Two Lands’ and the role of co-regent. As the 18th Dynasty was Theban, its patron deity, Amun, also took on great importance. Because of this, Ahmose I instilled the title ‘god’s wife of Amun’ upon her which was a senior Theban priestly title. With the appointment, she received an endowment of many goods and lands providing her with the prestige and authority to gain a status close to Ahmose I’s own mother, Ahhotep. The empowerment of a centralized bureaucracy with both local and royal authorities along with the stabilizing presence of the Queen allowed improved domestic governance.

With an effective government fully functioning in Thebes, Ahmose was able to focus resources upon political reforms in his colonies in Nubia as well. Originally, during the early years of Hyksos rule, the Nubians and Hyksos were in a close alliance. In fact, Hyksos pharaoh Apophis had intended to request assistance against Kamose who he claimed has “set upon [him] on [his] own soil… chosen to ruin these two lands, [his] land and [Nubia’s], and [Kamose] has already devastated them.” Yet, with the recapture of Nubia by Kamose and the subsequent destruction of the Hyksos by Ahmose I, Nubia was secure in Egyptian hands. Despite the occurrence of a rebellion commanded by Nubian leader Aata which he suppressed, Nubia was relatively stable which allowed Ahmose to reopen the mines and quarries. This played a significant part in the revamping of architectural and cultural aspects of Ahmose’s legacy.

During the Hyksos period, the artistic traditions dating back to the Old Kingdom were severed. The most obvious of this was shown the usage of hieratic script by the late 1600s BC in funerary text despite the sacredness of hieroglyphic writing in funeral complexes because of the lack of specialized scribes who were literate in the traditional esthetical hieroglyphics. Hence, the artistic and cultural aspects of the Egyptian writing were neglected in favor of the simpler hieratic text which was originally used for administrative tasks. This continued throughout Ahmose’s attacks against the Hyksos as increased national coherency gave him the opportunity to launch of artistic renaissance with works comparable to that of the Middle Kingdom. Although many of his temples dedicated to Amun did not survive, their remnants still demonstrates improved craftsmanship and materials when compared to the Second Intermediate Period.

Conclusion:

Because of his accomplishments culturally, politically and militarily, Ahmose I is viewed as the founding father of the 18th Dynasty and the New Kingdom despite his direct linkage to the Theban 17th Dynasty. The expulsion of the Hyksos from Egypt and their eradication in Palestine began the tradition of Egyptian warrior-pharaohs later personified by Ahmose I’s successor Amenhotep I who had the Horus names ‘Bull who Conquers the Lands’ and the Two Ladies Name ‘He who Inspires Great Terror’.

With increased military prowess, the succeeding New Kingdom pharaohs could dedicate increased efforts into the construction of temples and other religious architecture. Without the establishment of Eygptian military by Ahmose I, later warrior pharaohs such as Ramses the Great would not have been possible.

However, despite the architectural renaissance subsequent to Ahmose’s death, the tradition of pyramids was no longer continued because of security reasons and the remains of the pharaohs were instead interred at the Valley of Kings and Ahmose I’s pyramid became the last native Egyptian pyramid. The accomplishment of building the last pyramid ranked least upon his many achievements as Ahmose the Liberator not only began the golden age of Egyptian expansionism but also incorporated Hyksos advantages to improve the governmental system and therefore, leaving a legacy that shaped the rest of New Kingdom.