ISBN: 978-0-9861084-1-9

Foreword

By Cam Rea

The Roman-Parthian Wars were a series of cultural clashes between the eastern and western titans of the ancient world. Parthia was the antithesis of Rome, in culture, in politics, and on the battlefield. What started out as a diplomatic meeting between leaders of the two kingdoms in 92 BCE eventually led to a string of wars, starting with the Battle of Carrhae in 53 BCE and ending with the Battle of Nisibis in 217 CE.

Very little about Parthia is known or discussed in modern history, not because of lack of interest, but because there exist only limited resources on the once-great nation. Moreover, it is one sided, as much of the history is primarily from Roman sources, since Parthia left us with little to nothing on their end. While valuable information and insight on the Roman-Parthian Wars can be gained from primary sources such as Plutarch, Justin, Appian, Cassius Dio, Herodian, and many others, they, once again, provide only the Roman recounting of the conflicts.

Indeed, there are only a handful of books written in the last 140 years that deal with Parthian history and even fewer that focus on the Roman-Parthian Wars. Of these that have been beneficial in my research are George Rawlinson’s Parthia; Neilson C. Debevoise’s A Political History of Parthia; Malcolm A. R. Colledge, The Parthians; and Rose Mary Sheldon’s Rome’s Wars in Parthia.

Besides books focusing on Parthia, there are many others that deal indirectly with the subject, particularly biographies of Roman emperors, as well as a plethora of articles written on the topic, which can be located at many universities and at JSTOR.

While they still held a considerable amount of land, Parthia’s empire was initially not as large as the Seleucid empire, though they gradually conquered the latter’s territory. In the end, the Parthians ruled from the borders of India to the frontiers of Armenia, and from fringes of Central Asia to the Indian Ocean. Rome, the other massive empire of the time, stretched from Northern Europe to North Africa, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Near East, and would eventually adjoin Parthia.

As Rome continued to push militarily and diplomatically eastward during the 90s BCE, they eventually arrived near the Upper Euphrates to discover that many of the mini-kingdoms were in fact Parthian client states, especially Armenia. Once Rome officially understood the sphere of influence Parthia had over its western neighbors, The latins began to court the eastern kingdoms themselves.

But before Rome attempted to steal away Parthia’s neighbors, they met with Parthian leaders in person.

Around 92 BCE, the first diplomatic meeting between Rome and Parthia took place. The relationship between both empires started peacefully enough, but as time went on, tensions festered regarding control of the Near East. Rome’s political push at Parthia’s client states slowly caused a rift between the two powers that eventually led to war in 53 BCE, when Crassus invaded Parthia and was obliterated with his Roman forces at the Battle of Carrhae. Afterwards, the relations between the two would never be the same.

While Parthia’s overall strategy during the long conflict was a defensive one, Rome’s was more aggressive; they meant to confiscate the client states, in order to eventually turn them into Roman provinces.

Many tried and failed in this endeavor. Julius Caesar, for instance, dreamed of conquering Parthia, but was assassinated before he could set out on his grand venture. His friend, Mark Antony, also attempted the feat, but was unable to succeed.

Indeed, it appears that taking Parthia on directly seemed futile to Rome’s leaders and generals because the land was too vast. Consequently, instead of openly attacking the massive region, Rome continued to place pressure on the client states. But as the decades passed, Rome’s grand strategy began to stagnate. The client states, such as Armenia, were unreliable in their loyalties and changed their allegiances from one side to the other.

Eventually Rome did conquer Mesopotamia, and the Parthian capital of Ctesiphon was captured by Trajan in 114-116 CE.

Once Trajan died, however, his successor, Hadrian, handed Mesopotamia back to the Parthians. After Hadrian died, Roman emperors, Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, renewed the war in 161-166 CE with Lucius heading the effort in Mesopotamia while General Avidius Cassius did all the work leading the campaign.

But while the efforts of Rome’s leaders and generals led to the successful capture of Mesopotamia for a second time and the sack of the Parthian capital of Ctesiphon, the results did not last long.

In the end, it was not the death of the Roman emperor or an overextended army that forced Rome to hand over the captured Parthian regions, but instead, a plague that weakened Rome’s forces. The Roman losses in both in resources and men, allowed Parthia once again to regain their lost territory.

Rome would invade Mesopotamia twice more under the Emperors Septimius Severus (198 CE) and Caracalla (216-217 CE). And while both emperors were successful, the borders of Rome would once again recede.

Parthia was able to beat Rome multiple times during their early relations, as she was also far more politically stable then and so could put up greater resistance. However, as time passed, the Parthian nobility became increasingly hostile to the king, which led to rebellions.

Understand that Parthia, unlike Rome, did not have a centralized government and was instead a loosely held confederacy. Consequently, these sporadic civil wars meant Parthia became weak and open for invasion. Rome took advantage of these situations and so was able to defeat them, at times attempting to make Parthia a client state.

The primary reason for Rome’s campaign against Parthia was that Rome did not tolerate equals. Rome had a lot to gain from destroying the Parthian empire and absorbing its lands, resources, and client-states. Raiding Parthia’s coffers also fulfilled Rome financially, allowing for even more conquests and expansion campaigns.

But ultimately, Rome failed in their dreams of conquering Parthia due to military intelligence failures, gullibility, lack of planning, and overextending their forces and resources.

Despite their failing, Rome continued while Parthia fell into the dustbin of history. Though both empires were titans of the ancient world, Parthia did not survive due to internal instability.

And so while the conflict between Rome and Parthia spanned many years, it is often overlooked. There must be, after all, a reason no one never hears of Parthia. However, the following account not only brings to life a once-great ancient power, but elucidates the power-hungry mindset of the Romans.

Table of Contents

The Battle of Carrhae: the characters (53 BCE)

The Battle of Carrhae: the beginnings

The Battle of Carrhae: the fate of Publius

The Battle of Carrhae: Crassus’ retreat

The Finale of the Battle of Carrhae: the last stand

Cicero in Cilicia

Pompey needs a Buddy

What likely got Caesar

Avenging Crassus!

Antony Beats the War Drums but is Blinded by Lust

Shock and Awe

The Invasion of Judea

The Invasion of Asia Minor

Antony’s War to Avenge Crassus and fulfill Caesar’s Dream

Antony’s Parthian War

Anthony’s Retreat: On the Road to Hell

Artavasdes Must Pay!

Antony’s Defeat is Octavian’s Victory

Conclusion

The Battle of Carrhae: the characters
(53 BCE)

The year 53 BCE marked the first of the battles between the Roman and Parthian empires, and one of the most crushing defeats in Roman history.

Leading the Romans was Marcus Licinius Crassus, a member of the First Triumvirate and the wealthiest man in Rome.

Crassus, like many before him, was enticed by the prospect of riches and military glory and so decided to invade Parthia, despite being sixty years old and hearing-impaired. Additionally, Crassus did not feel obliged to have the official consent of the Senate to go to war, and so took his army and marched directly through the deserts of Mesopotamia, to show that he was equal to Julius Caesar and Pompey.

Having marched his men into Carrhae, a small town located in what is now modern-day Turkey, Crassus was overcome by an ambush by the Parthian general Surena.

Surena was Crassus’ nemesis in the battle of Carrhae, and had a reputation to match Crassus’ own. According to Plutarch, the Parthian general was,

“an extremely distinguished man. In wealth, birth, and in the honor paid to him, he ranked next after the king; in courage and ability he was the foremost Parthian of his time; and in stature and personal beauty he had no equal.”

Plutarch further added that Surena was “always accompanied by a baggage train of 1,000 camels; 200 wagons carried his harem; 1,000 armored cavalry and still more light armed cavalry acted as his escort.”

In total, the Parthian leader had 10,000 at his side.

Though Surena himself was awash in grandeur and celebrity, his origins were markedly inscrutable. ‘Surena’ was not even the man’s real name, which remains unknown. In fact, it was Plutarch who used the name Surena because the Parthian general came from the House of Suren, which was located in Sistan.

Besides being a ruling house in the Sistan region, the House of Suren also boasted strong ties to the Arsacid Court. It was the House of Suren that “struck silver drachms in the Parthian fashion, with the portrait of the king wearing a bejewelled headdress on the obverse and an enthroned ruler on the reverse.”

Such a profession indicated that Surena’s family was in the monetary business and since they struck coins for the Parthian king, they had considerable financial control over the Sistan empire. In other words, the power of the purse lied with the House of Suren, granting them, “the ancient privilege of his family, the right to be the first to set the crown on the head of a King of Parthia at the coronation.”

The Battle of Carrhae: the beginnings

Though Crassus and his men could not have known at the time the outcome of the Battle of Carrhae, it did not bode well for morale when Crassus made an ominous mistake. He had decided to eschew the purple robe that Roman generals normally wear, and instead wore a black robe, as if he was leading a funeral procession.

Crassus switched robes after he realized the mishap. Black, however, might have been more appropriate, considering the battle’s conclusion.

Crassus pressed on into the harsh Parthian landscape, in modern day northern Iraq. But as he pushed his men harder, the cavalry scouts that were sent ahead came back in fewer numbers. Surena, the Parthian general, had already set up an ambush killing many of these scouts.

This was Surena’s calling card, and the land the Romans were advancing on would be the preferred battleground.

But Surena had other tricks as well. He was able to spread disinformation to the Romans via Ariamnes, governor of the province Cappadocia. It was Ariamnes who previously told the Roman general Crassus that it was best to avoid Seleucia, a city on the west bank of the Tigris River, but instead head straight into Parthia.

Ariamnes also informed Crassus that the Parthians had not fully mobilized, and advised Crassus to take advantage of their disorder. As of yet, he reported, only a Parthian advanced guard waited and had been placed solely to track Crassus’ movements under the command of Surena.

However, Ariamnes’ information proved false. As the Roman scouts ventured further ahead of the main body, they soon found themselves in a trap. Lulled by Ariamnes’ assurances that the coast was clear, the Roman scouts sent ahead of the main body were ambushed by the waiting Parthians.

Romans who made it back to Crassus alive reported that the enemy was great in number and full of confidence.

Ariamnes’ deception seemed to have gone unnoticed by Crassus, who in his excitement and impatience to attack, was making inconsistent decisions. Though Crassus’ men saw Ariamnes’ false intelligence as the betrayal that it was, Crassus continued to follow his information no matter how contrary or flimsy.

Crassus was still being deceived by Surena’s crafty ambushes until Cassius, a Roman senator and leading instigator of the plot to kill Julius Caesar, gave him some advice. Cassius suggested that Crassus’ forces should form the men into one, shallow long line and that the cavalry should be divided between the two wings, flanking the rest of the men.

Cassius’ plan seemed like the right strategy to choose. A shallow line of men would have allowed Crassus’ forces the ability to not only punch through the enemy mass but also give itself enough flexibility to attack the enemy’s flank and rear.

However, Crassus disagreed with Cassius’ suggestion. Instead, he decided that it would be best to form the men into one huge hollow square with 12 cohorts on each side and a cavalry detachment next to each cohort.

The Roman general felt that the hollow square strategy would ensure equal amounts of inflicted force and protection within, as well as providing a balance of offense and defense. The idea was that light infantry combined with heavy infantry allowed for maximum strength and maximum protection. The heavy infantry would supply the brute force of damage to the enemy, while archers and slingers covered them with a hail of projectiles.

In Crassus’ formation, Cassius would take command of one of the wings - cavalry units which flanked the main force - and Publius, Crassus’ son, would command the other wing. Crassus himself would command from the middle of the square.

While the formation was effective in theory, Crassus lacked the ability to use the strategy to its full potential. Cassius’ shallow line approach would have been the wiser option for the Romans, but, nonetheless, they moved forward in Crassus’ hollow square formation until they came the Balissus stream.

When arriving at Balissus, the men were hot, hungry, thirsty, weak, weary and looked upon the stream as a blessing. The officers advised Crassus it was best to stay next to the stream, set up camp, and allow the men to rest.  Meanwhile, a new scouting party could be formed and sent out to gather intelligence on the Parthian order of battle.

Unfortunately for the men, Crassus could not make a sound decision. He agreed that the men should eat and drink, but should do so while standing up and staying in formation. Then Crassus changed his mind, deciding that yes, the men can eat and drink, so long as they march. But then Crassus was indecisive and gave yet again a new order: move out.

Many men were able to eat and drink while on the move, but just as many went hungry and thirsty, because Crassus forced them at a quick pace to keep up with the cavalry.

As Crassus pushed on, the enemy slowly came into sight. Crassus commanded his army to halt and to their surprised eyes the enemy were, “neither so numerous nor so splendidly armed as they had expected.”

However, looks could be deceiving. What Crassus and his army saw was the front rank of just 1,000 cavalry who were covered in skins and coats. Surena’s main force was hidden behind these front ranks.

While the Romans looked on at Surena’s seemingly paltry forces, Surena gave the order and a thundering sound proceeded forth from the Parthian cavalry. Many unseen drums covered in stretched animal hide with brass bells roared across the field, vibrating the Romans’ armor as well as their hearts.

The use of sound as a psychological weapon before battle manipulated behavior for both the Romans and Parthians, affecting all senses. In other words, such a thunderous display of power invigorated the ‘home team’ while rattling the confidence of the ‘away team.’

Plutarch mentioned that, “before the Romans had recovered from their consternation at this din, the enemy suddenly dropped the coverings of their armour.” Essentially, once the drums roared no more, the Roman army, already physically weak and now discombobulated by the intense sound, were in for another surprise. The Parthian heavy cavalry, otherwise known as a cataphract, charged towards them, with Surena leading the way.

As the cataphract thundered across the plain, their coverings dropped from their armor revealing, “helmets and breastplates blazing like fire, their Margianian steel glittering keen and bright, their horses armored with plates of bronze and steel.”

The Margianian steel came from a Parthian province known as Margiana, located in what is today the country of Turkmenistan, northern Afghanistan and southern Uzbekistan. It was in Margiana, rich in metal resources, where the iron ore was mined, and possibly refined, for metal goods like weapons and armor. Additionally, the Parthian heavy cavalry was armored in bronze plates, which was refined from the local Margianian tin and copper.

As the awe-inspiring cataphract closed in, the Roman legionaries locked shields to create a continuous wall. Surena noticed that the Roman line was steady and firm; they were not going to budge. Consequently, the Parthian general promptly broke off the charge, giving the impression that they lacked confidence in engaging the Romans in a full frontal assault.

However, this was just another ruse.

Unseen to the Romans, however, were the 10,000 Parthian horse archers hiding behind the ‘retreating’ cataphract charge. These archers enveloped the Romans, firing on them from all sides. Crassus was stunned, but he assessed the situation with the clear head of a commander; his forces were bogged down by unarmored petty horse archers, who were vulnerable to missile attack. Thus, Crassus ordered his light infantry to engage the Parthian horse archers.

But as the light infantry left the safety of the hollow square to engage the enemy, they were showered with arrows. Meanwhile the Parthian horse archers galloped away, causing the light infantry to pull back and crash into the Roman lines seeking safety.

While the sight, speed, and agility of the Parthian horse archers spooked the Romans, what really terrified the Romans was the Parthians’ primary weapon, the composite bow.

It should be said that the bow used by Surena and the Parthians in the battle of Carrhae was no ordinary composite bow.

It was smaller, with a length of approximately 80 cm (2.6 feet), while other bows found in burial mounds at Pazyryk, Russia, measured 127 centimeters (4.2 feet). The arms of the bow curved outward from the handle grip, resembling a “Cupid’s bow”, but the tips lacked ears, giving it more flexibility.

Overall, the Scythian double-curved composite bow was small, stiff, hardy, and powerful.

As the Parthian horse archers spread out at Carrhae, attempting to attack the Romans from all sides, their bows had to be effective in killing or wounding the Romans at a distance of 160 yards to 200 yards. In addition, the Parthians carried anywhere between 30 and 150 arrows, though some estimates say their quivers held up to 200. When engaged in combat, the archer could release up to 12 arrows a minute, while other historians such as Kaveh Farrokh suggest 20 arrows a minute.

The Parthians were not necessarily aiming for one shot/one kill in their attacks, though surely they would have taken the opportunity if it presented itself. Instead, the Parthian horse archers positioned their bows at a 45-degree angle, which would fall erratically on top of the enemy. From such an angle the archers could shower the enemy with arrows to kill, if possible, or to mutilate, which was the main objective.

These inconsistent arrow shots, lacking the ability to wipe out swaths of men, were meant to demoralize the enemy with their sheer number and force them to withdraw. Once the enemy was harassed into retreating, the Parthians horse archers could target their enemy with individual kill methods or leave him alone entirely.

Dr. Kaveh Farrokh suggests that the average Parthian horse archer, with a quiver of 30 arrows, loosed between 8-10 arrows a minute at the battle of Carrhae. It would take 2-3 minutes to exhaust his arsenal before needing to be resupplied. The amount of Parthian horse archers at the battle is estimated at 10,000.

If all 10,000 fired away for 20 minutes, the amount of arrows fired by an individual horse archer would have been between 160-200 arrows.

Subsequently, with 10,000 archers the amount of arrows fired upon the Roman soldiers are estimated to have been an astounding 1.6-2 million arrows in a 20-minute time frame. The result of such an onslaught unsurprisingly proved lethal to the ranks of Roman soldiers.

An additional reason for the high rate of death inflicted on the Romans was the result of the Crassus’ hollow square formation, which made the Roman soldiers an easy target, being so densely crowded together. Indeed, it would have been impossible for a Parthian horse archer to miss.

The Romans soon realized that they could do nothing to alleviate the slaughter the Parthians were raining down on them. If they stayed in their rank and file the Romans would be wounded or killed, boxed in and picked off by the Parthian composite bow. But, if they made an attempt to counter the horse archers they would only suffer the same fate, if not worse.

Any attempt to chase after the Parthian archers resulted in the horse archers retreating at a full gallop, and even during the retreat, the archers would twist their bodies to shoot behind them at the pursuing Romans. Such a maneuver from the horse archers gave birth to the term “Parthian Shot.”

Not only were the Parthians slaughtering the Romans, they were doing so with ease.

Moreover, the Parthians were exploiting the Roman way of warfare. For the Romans to see the enemy retreat was a sign of defeat. As such, when the Parthian forces appeared to flee, the Romans felt that they had gained the advantage and pursued them. However, they realized their mistake as soon as the ‘retreating’ Parthians twisted around and struck the Romans with their deadly “Parthian shot.”

Crassus’ only hope was that, as the Romans kept in their square, the Parthians would soon run out of arrows. Once that happened, Crassus felt that the Parthians would have no choice but to engage the Romans at close quarters.

Crassus’ hope, however, was in vain. To the astonishment of the Romans, a Parthian camel train was standing by with fresh arrows. Surena proved adept at organization and logistics by using trains of camels to keep his horse-archers constantly supplied, and so maintained indefinite pressure upon the Romans.

Crassus’ confidence deteriorated. He sent a message to his son Publius, informing him to join the battle by taking 1,300 cavalry, 500 archers, and eight cohorts from the infantry. Crassus’ plan was to draw some of the Parthians away from the square as they were attempting to encircle the Romans.

The Parthians were trying to surround the Romans for two reasons: first, by enveloping the Romans completely the Parthians would force the Roman legions to crowd closer together as their numbers dwindled, thus making it easier to pick the Romans off. Second, by boxing the Romans in but leaving an intentional gap open, the Parthians tricked the Romans into believing that there was a weak point in the Parthian line.

Crassus’ son Publius took the bait and charged ahead. Then, using an old steppe trick, the horse archers deceived Publius into thinking they were retreating and so, full of excitement, Publius shouted, “’They are on the run,’ and charged after them.”

The feigned retreat worked; Publius rushed forward recklessly, straight to where the Parthians were well-hidden and awaiting Publius’ arrival.

Publius and the men were joyous; they felt that they now had the advantage and victory was surely close at hand.

But as they continued to move further away from the main body, they soon realized the ‘retreat’ was nothing more than a trick. The Parthian horse archers wheeled around and were joined by fresh troops. Publius ordered the men to halt as the Parthian cataphract was stationed in front of him.

Publius had hoped that the Parthians would engage them in close combat, but instead the horse archers, in loose order, rode around the Romans, kicking up so much sand that a miniature sandstorm besieged the Romans. It became nearly impossible to see the enemy. By using nature as a weapon to disguise their movements, the horse archers were able to attack the Romans safely and fight uninhibited.

Publius and his men could not see or breathe amidst the churning sand. Fear set in which soon led to panic. The Romans in their disarray tripped, stumbled, and fell in each other’s way. The Parthian horse archers took advantage of the situation and the arrow shower began once again. Publius did what any commander in the field would do and tried to reestablish order among the men. However, it was too late.

The Battle of Carrhae: the fate of Publius

The Romans writhed in convulsion and agony as the arrows, shot by the horse archers, struck them. The Roman soldiers attempted to break the pointed weapons from their flesh, to tear out the barbed arrowheads that had pierced through their veins and muscles, but ended up lacerating and disfiguring their own bodies instead.

Many of the men died a slow, agonizing death.

Publius needed to act quickly. While the Romans could not engage the horse archers in close combat, they could fight with the Parthian chain of command, the cataphract, which was nearby. If the Romans could make a break for the cataphract, they might have a chance to turn the tide of battle, especially if they could reach the Parthian commander Surena and kill him.

Publius gave the order to attack the cataphract but grim reality set in. The Roman infantrymen who heard Publius showed him that they were unable to go on any further, for their “hands pinioned to their shields, feet nailed through into the ground,…they were incapable of either running away or defending themselves.”

Publius was so engrossed with the battle that he was unaware of the state of his men. His vision swam and blurred when confronted by those who were literally pinned to their equipment and to the ground. Publius finally realized the carnage that had been inflicted upon his men, and gathered what remained of his Gallic cavalry and charged towards the cataphract.

One would have thought that Publius would have known better than to charge towards an enemy who was considerably better equipped. Publius’ Gallic cavalry only wore little armor and carried small light spears, but they soon realized their mistake. Their light spears could do little against the breastplates of the cataphract, nor could their armour repel the long pikes which the Parthians thrusted into the horse or rider.

Additionally, many of the Parthian cataphract were smart enough to know the pros and cons of their armor. Being weighed down made their movement cumbersome, so the soldiers knew that they were best on foot or even on their back or knees. As a result, they would get underneath the Gallic cavalryman’s horse and thrust their sword into the animal’s belly. This would cause the horse to rear up, throwing the rider off, and trample those underneath or nearby before collapsing.

With so many Gallic cavalry now dead, the only option for the injured and overwhelmed Publius was to retreat. What was left of his forces pulled back, and they took their badly wounded leader to higher ground - a decision which would prove to be a mistake.

Publius and his men retreated to a nearby sandy hill, though the spot provided little protection. The Roman infantry were placed in the front of the hill, but those behind the infantry stuck out like a sore thumb due to the elevation.

The horse archers once again pelted the Romans relentlessly with arrows. The Romans could do little other than watch their numbers fall.

As the situation deteriorated, two Greek men from the town of Carrhae offered to help Publius escape to a nearby town, called Ichnae, which was friendly to Rome. Publius refused the offer since so many of his men were either dead or dying on his account. Being a Roman commander, he attempted to take his own life but was unable to do so since his hand had been pierced by an arrow.

Thus, Publius looked to his shield bearer and ordered him to run him through with his gladius, or sword.

Eventually, the Parthians made it up the hill after the horse archers had weakened the Romans a bit more. Once there, the Parthian cataphract killed and trampled the dwindling force. The surviving men then surrendered and 500 were taken prisoner.

As for the remains of Publius, the Parthians took the body and severed his head.

While Crassus waited for good news, he noticed something had changed. When Publius went charging off after the horse archers, the Parthians had slacked off attacking the main body of Crassus’ troops. The reason the Parthians had diminished their attacks was, of course, to kill Publius, who was a high-profile target with little protection. Surena understood that if he could get Publius as far away as possible from the main Roman body, he could fix, engage, and defeat the target.

Surena correctly assumed that striking down Publius would send shockwaves throughout the Roman army.

But as Crassus waited for his son Publius to return back from his pursuit, he was confident that his son was faring well.  Crassus reorganised his men in and moved them to sloping ground.

Of course, Publius had been attempting to send messages to his father Crassus, but the first dispatch never made it through since the messenger was killed. When the news that Publius desperately needed help finally reached Crassus, his hopes that his son was doing well came crashing down.

Upon hearing that his son was in dire straits, Crassus became unable to make any clear decisions. He didn’t know whether he should come to the aid of his son or stay put with the main force of his army. Under such harrowing circumstances, Crassus began to lose confidence and feared the worst possible outcome for his army. Finally he made the decision to move the Roman army in an attempt to help Publius.

Crassus did not know, however, that his son Publius was already dead.

Just as Crassus’ army moved forward, the Parthians swooped in again, beating their drums and shouting aloud, but with even greater ferocity than before. While the Roman army prepared for the second wave of attack, some of the Parthian cavalry approached the Roman line. One of the cataphract had a nasty surprise for Crassus; it was the head of Publius on the tip of a spear.

It came with a message for Crassus: “it was impossible… that such a brave and gallant soldier could be the son of such a miserable coward as Crassus.”

If the Roman army had any confidence left, then that moment sucked the remaining life blood out of them.

Crassus, who suffered the most from the tragedy of Publius’ death, rode up and down the ranks, shouting:

“this grief is a private thing of my own. But in you, who are safe and sound, abide the great fortune and the glory of Rome. And now, if you feel any pity for me, who have lost the best son that any father has ever had, show it in the fury with which you face the enemy.”

Crassus’ encouraging speech to fight on and think of their ancestors who fought hard battles did little to liven up the men’s spirits. Plutarch mentioned that “while he was speaking these words of encouragement, Crassus could see how few there were who were listening to him with enthusiasm.”

When Crassus wanted to hear the war cry of his men, he heard instead a “weak, feeble, and unsteady shout.”

Nevertheless, Crassus sent his men into battle once again

The Battle of Carrhae: Crassus’ retreat

As soon as Crassus prepared the men for the second wave of battle, the Parthians enveloped the Romans and showered them with arrows. As the horse archers began to pelt Crassus’ forces to death, Surena decided to up the carnage by unleashing the cataphract.

The strategy was simple, with Roman confidence withering away the Parthian cataphract would have a much greater chance in driving the Roman infantry closer together and into each other’s way. With each charge the cataphract was successful in penetrating the Roman lines and then breaking from the throng of confused Roman soldiers, which allowed the Parthian horse archers to concentrate their arrows on a compacted target.

The Romans lost men in droves as the arrows constantly rained down and the cataphract kept crushing and driving bodies back. Crassus had no choice but to retreat, but to do so in the daylight was risky, for the hail of arrows upon his men had not lifted and he lacked the cover of darkness his men sorely needed.

For Crassus night could not come soon enough.

As the sun set, the Parthians withdrew from battle. The Romans could now try to gather their senses and make plans on what to do next. It was during their strategizing that the Parthians sent a messenger to Crassus. The Parthians would give Crassus some space to mourn the loss of his son, but they also advised Crassus that he should go to Orodes, unless he desired to meet his son in the afterlife.

Crassus neither sought Orodes nor rode against the Parthians in a last effort to scrape by alive. Instead, Crassus was found lying down in the dark with his face covered.

The remaining Romans were in a similar state of mind. Not a finger was lifted to help the wounded or bury the dead. As Crassus laid in silent anguish, an officer by the name of Octavius tried to motivate Crassus to get up and take charge of the situation. Crassus did not budge or show any sign of concern.

Seeing that their leader was virtually catatonic and unable to command, the Roman officers got together and made the decision to move out. They packed their camp and left, leaving the maimed behind and the dead to be picked clean by the vultures.

Absolute panic erupted in the camp as those unable to move shouted to their compatriots for help. Some Roman soldiers did aid the wounded but many feared for their lives and ignored the pleas. As the Roman army retreated they repeatedly altered their course, zigzagging to throw off the Parthians in case they intended to attack during the night march.

The journey was anything but smooth. It was a slow, cumbersome march, as those who had been maimed handicapped the Romans’ move to reach temporary safety.

However, some men, such as the Roman Ignatius and his 300 cavalry, advanced ahead of the main body and so reached the city of Carrhae around midnight. Once Ignatius was outside the walls he yelled to the sentinels in Latin. He informed them to tell their commander Coponius that there had been a “great battle between Crassus and the Parthians.”

Afterwards, Ignatius moved to the safety of Zeugma, leaving the main body of the Roman army behind and acquiring a bad name for deserting Crassus. Consequently, Coponius was suspicious of the news that Crassus had been defeated; Ignatius never gave his name to Coponius or any details as to what had happened regarding the day’s events at Carrhae.

Nonetheless, Coponius ordered his men to immediately arm themselves and soon learned that Crassus was on his way. Coponius went out to relieve Crassus and escort the Roman army into the city.

Meanwhile Surena was not ignorant of Crassus’ movements. He knew that they had fled. Once dawn broke, the Parthians mustered their forces and moved out to the battle site and saw only the dead and maimed. The Romans soldiers who were still partially alive, 4000 in total, were killed.

Afterwards, the Parthians pushed on, searching for stragglers and slaughtering them. Only twenty men survived and were allowed to leave for Carrhae due to their courage.

Then Surena received a report that Crassus had bypassed Carrhae and escaped with the main body of his forces. All that was left in Carrhae were some stray soldiers.

Surena had one of two options, either run around the desert looking for Crassus, wasting time and energy, or send one of his own men who could speak Latin to Carrhae to ask questions. Surena decided on the latter, and ordered an interpreter to probe the city.

Once at the walls, Surena’s man relayed the message that Surena wished to have a conference with either Crassus or Cassius. If they accepted, the Romans would be allowed to depart safely after they had negotiated the terms with King Orodes II and agreed to leave Mesopotamia indefinitely.

Crassus accepted the invitation and Cassius informed the messenger that the “time and place be fixed for a conference between Surena and Crassus.” Parthian intelligence paid off. Surena made his way to Carrhae.

Crassus had hoped that the coming negotiation with Surena was authentic, as he and his men were desperate to make their way home. But Surena had tricked Crassus and the Romans yet again. There was no truce, at least not how it was initially perceived.

The day after the battle, early in the morning, Surena gave the order to move out and head towards Carrhae. The sentinels on the walls of Carrhae notified Crassus and Cassius that the Parthians were near. Romans within the city responded to the news of Surena’s arrival with cautious joy, but to no avail. Once Surena was outside the walls, there was no peace offer.

Instead, the Parthians began to hurl insults and demanded that if the Romans wanted peace, then they must hand over Crassus and Cassius in chains. The Romans were stunned by this request and became incensed; the whole proposal of peace talks beforehand was just a facade. Crassus’ situation was dire. Carrhae could not provide the much needed supplies and no Roman troops were available in Syria to come to their aid.

Crassus then made the decision to move out during the night once again, since the Parthians apparently didn’t fight as well after sunset.

Crassus determined that his forces would march to the town of Sinnaca, located in Armenia. Reaching the place would be no problem under the cover of darkness, at least as long as one’s guide was not a double agent.

The Finale of the Battle of Carrhae: the last stand

Crassus mustered his men and headed towards Sinnaca at night, and the man to guide them was Andromachus. The journey seemed to be going smoothly until some of the Roman officers noticed that Andromachus was leading the men in one direction and then making sudden turns. The army continued zigzagging until they reached a marshy  area that impaired their movements.

Another Roman officer by the name of Octavius, who followed reliable guides (rather than Andromachus), noticed the bizarre movements and rode off from the main body of the army with 5,000 men to Sinnaca, where he was able to set up a defensive position.

As for Crassus, daylight arrived and there was still no Sinnaca in sight. Instead, the Roman general was still meandering around in the marsh with four cohorts, a few cavalry and five lictors, or bodyguards.

Andromachus eventually got the Romans on the right road, only a mile and half away from Sinnaca, but it was already too late. The Parthians had spotted the Romans and were charging towards them. Crassus and his men set up defensive positions on a small hill, one that provided little protection against the Parthian cavalry.

However, the inadequate hill had one advantage; it was below Sinnaca and had a ridge that ran from the hill to Sinnaca, where Octavius was already set up.

Octavius could barely see what was going on down below, but knew Crassus was in trouble. He assembled his men and rushed down the ridge. Once he arrived, the Romans were able to push back the Parthian cavalry just enough to cover Crassus with their shields.

Octavius made it clear to the Parthians and declared, “that there was no arrow in Parthia that should touch the body of their imperator, so long as there was one of them left alive to fight in his defense.”

The Romans were so ferocious in their defense that the Parthian cavalry gradually lost the will to push on. Surena, being the wise tactician that he was, understood that an army with its back against the wall will display the utmost strength. Instead of pressing on with the attack, Surena came up with a new strategy that did not require physical weapons.

Like most of Surena’s plans, it was awash in deception.

Once the Parthian attack ceased, Surena met with his council to discuss peace terms and, in particular, how Crassus would be treated. However, Surena made sure to hold the meeting in the presence of the nearby Roman prisoners to show that he, like King Orodes II, wanted nothing more than to end the war with Rome. Additionally, Surena made it clear that Crassus would be treated kindly.

After the terms had been agreed upon, he freed the Roman prisoners.

By allowing the Roman prisoners to hear the desired terms of the Parthians, and releasing them to go back to their own camp to tell the good news, Surena was setting up his own version of a Trojan horse.

Once the freed Roman prisoners arrived at their camp they excitedly shared the news. The Romans were overjoyed to think that there might finally be an end to the gruesome war between Rome and Parthia.

Surena, accompanied by Parthian nobles, then rode to the Roman camp.  He un-strung his bow and held out his hand in a gesture of peace and goodwill, offering the Romans a truce and promising them their safe return.

The Romans were thrilled; the news the freed prisoners had delivered was actually true! However, Crassus wisely distrusted Surena’s offer. After all, he had been deceived at almost every turn during his campaign against the Parthians, including their recent retreat. Thus Crassus could not believe that the Parthians would just let him and his men go in peace.

Because of Crassus’ attitude towards Surena’s peace proposal, the Romans soldiers grew hostile towards their leader, insulting him in every way and accusing him of being a coward. Unsurprisingly, Crassus did not take kindly to the condemnation from his own men. Though he was disheartened and frightened by their harsh words, he understood the men’s feelings; Crassus too longed for an easy end to such a bloody and disastrous affair.

Crassus, therefore, approached Surena, despite his terror and certainty that the Parthian leader was deceiving them.

Before Crassus spoke a word to Surena, he turned around, looked at the men, and said, “Octavius and Petronius and all you other Roman officers present, you see that I am being forced to go this way. You are eye-witnesses of the shameful and violent treatment which I have received.”

Crassus made it clear that he did not want his officers to think that his own men, through their desire for peace, handed over Crassus to the enemy. Rather that the enemy was so shrewd and resourceful that they were able to capture Crassus through deception.

In the end, Crassus made his way down the hill to meet with Surena. The Romans were on foot and the Parthians were on horseback. Surena was shocked that Crassus, the imperator of Rome, was on foot and offered him a horse. However, Crassus declined the offer, explaining that he was merely following the custom of his own country.

Surena went straight to the point and informed Crassus that peace now existed between King Orodes and the Romans. In order to make the peace negotiations final, an agreement must be signed near the Euphrates River.

Surena then said “We find that you Romans have not got very good memories about the terms of treaties.”

Crassus called for a horse when suddenly Surena offered him a steed with a golden bridle as a present. Crassus accepted, and the grooms lifted Crassus up onto the saddle and ran alongside the horse, whipping it to go faster. Octavius charged after Crassus to get a  hold of the bridle and slow the charging beast, while Petronius, along with the men, surrounded the horse in an attempt to curb its movement.

It was during the struggle with the horse that a brawl broke out. It seemed that the Parthian grooms did little to temper the horse’s movement, which caused Octavius to draw his sword and kill one of them. Octavius was then killed in retaliation. Petronius was also struck by an attacking Parthian, but his breastplate saved him.

In the chaos and struggle, Crassus was killed by a Parthian named Pomaxathres.

Once Crassus lay dead, Surena ordered the rest of the Roman men to come down from the hill and have no fear. Not every Roman trusted Surena’s word, and many stayed put, waiting for night to fall in order to escape.  Some of them reached safety, while many others were killed or captured.

In all, 20,000 Romans were slaughtered while another 10,000 were taken prisoner.

While Plutarch did not mention the fate of the prisoners after their capture, Pliny the Elder did. He wrote that they were taken to the province of Margiana, possibly the city of Merv, to protect the Parthian frontier. “This is the place to which the Roman prisoners taken in the disaster of Crassus were brought by Orodes.”

The lyric poet Quintus Horatius Flaccus, better known as Horace, who wrote during the time of Augustus, added a bit more detail in one of his poems. Apparently the Roman prisoners married into the native population of Parthia.

As for the body of Crassus, Surena had his head and right hand cut off and sent to King Orodes, who happened to be in Armenia, the significance of which shall be noted later.

Surena, however, wasn’t finished with his vengeance against the Romans. He wanted to humiliate the Romans further, and so decided to enjoy himself in the midst of Crassus’ and Rome’s humiliating defeat.

Surena then sent messengers to Seleucia, a city which had been hostile to Parthia from time to time and had hoped for Crassus’ arrival. Surena’s messengers informed the powers that be in Seleucia that Surena would bring Crassus alive.

However, the man to be paraded through the streets of Seleucia was Gaius Paccianus, who was picked to play the part because he happened to look like Crassus. Surena had Paccianus put on a queen’s dress, placed on a horse, and was ordered that when addressed he should answer that he is the Imperator Crassus. In front of this mock Crassus were trumpeters and a few lictors, or Roman bodyguards, on camel-back.

In fact, it was the lictors who displayed the most gruesome sight. They carried the Roman fasces with purses swinging from the rods and freshly severed Roman heads hanging from the axes.

Bringing up the rear of the parade were women singing songs about the coward named Crassus. The garish and mocking display was a parade of death and a warning aimed not only at Rome, but also to the Grecian city of Seleucia, which had hoped for Roman occupation in Parthia.

As for King Orodes, he was busy feasting and drinking with his newly conquered ally, King Artavasdes of Armenia. Artavasdes agreed to allow his sister to marry Orodes’ son, Pacorus. As the kings feasted while watching the Greek performance of Euripides’ Bacchae, an officer by the name of Sillaces arrived with a war trophy; it was the head and hand of Crassus.

In usual tradition, Sillaces bowed down low before his king and then threw the head of Crassus unto the stage. King Orodes told Sillaces to stand up and take a seat at the banquet. It was at this moment that one of the actors, named Jason of Tralles, who had been playing the part of Pentheus during the play, grabbed the head of Crassus, switched costume and put on the attire of Agave, who according to the story, happened to murder her own son Pentheus, severing his head and carrying it back to Thebes on a stick.

While holding Crassus’ head, Jason sang loudly to the audience:

“We bring from the mountain

A tendril fresh-cut to the palace,

A wonderful prey.”

Everyone in the audience rejoiced, except for King Artavasdes. While Artavasdes was likely delighted that the Romans had been beaten, he was also a realist. He knew that the Romans would return to Parthia with hostile intentions; it was the Roman way.

Figure of Orodes

Figure of Crassus

Figure of Surena

Figure of Crassus’ defeat

Cicero in Cilicia (51-50 BCE)

By Ben Potter

Though notable for his works, his consulship, and his exile from Rome and senatorial reinstatement, Cicero and his prominence in Rome’s Golden Age were equally shaped by his role as governor of Cilicia in 51 BC.

Cilicia, a vexatious and affluent province, consisted of a large chunk of the Middle-East and the island of Cyprus. These regions, which at present day are marked by unruliness, conflict, and danger, bore a similar reputation in 51 BC.

Though the reasons for Cilicia’s reputation were manifold, the key cause for Roman concern was the threat of the Parthians, who, only two years earlier at the Battle of Carrhae, had inflicted upon Rome one of the most humiliating defeats in her history.

Hence, Cicero was, to say the least, extremely reluctant to take up a post in which he would be required to secure Rome’s borders, suppress the barbarian mountain-folk, overhaul the administration, weed out corruption, encourage local participation, and keep taxes down… all while avoiding being massacred by the Parthians.

Though a Roman politician who did not want a potentially lucrative and prestigious appointment was an abnormal figure indeed, Cicero not only accepted the hazardous assignment but prevailed in all of its aforementioned objectives.

Cicero freely admitted his reluctance to adopt a post on the border of Rome, writing that: “I often blame my own unwisdom in not having found some way of escaping this job; it’s so hopelessly uncongenial to me.”

Indeed, Cicero bemoaned his task on the border before he even took up the position. While still en route in the comfort of Athens, the affairs of state were already beginning to exert their pressure. Cicero wrote in a private correspondence to his trusted friend Atticus:

“Early days you may say, and point out that I am not yet in harness. Too true, and I expect there is worse to come… in my heart of hearts I am on thorns. Irritability, rudeness, every sort of stupidity and bad manners and arrogance both in word and act – one sees examples every day”.

Cicero’s aversion to his assignment made sense in light of his recent return from exile. As such, he longed to remain at the hub of Senatorial politics, swaying and cajoling with his measured and miraculous oratory, rather than putting out fires at the edges of civilization.

In fact, there has been a suggestion that Cicero’s ‘small government’ initiative in his dealings with Cilicia was borne out of apathy, that he let the province run itself because it was unworthy of his attention. No doubt Cilicia had little to offer in comparison to the power and opportunity that lay in Rome.

While an interesting theory, this is highly unlikely.

Cicero was a dynamic, competent, energetic and honourable man who had more than a little regard for his reputation. Even though he may have resented his appointment, once in situ, he seemed determined to be successful.

Of course, his and our idea of ‘hands on’ vs ‘hands off’ governance may have been slightly different. Many, if not most, Roman provincial governors were dynamic because they needed to be in order to feather their own nests. Such governors were border-line autocratic and many used their power to become extremely wealthy, while others were just drunk with power.

One such governor was a man named Volesus, who executed 300 people in a day and exclaimed with pleasure at the bloody sight: ‘Oh kingly deed!’

So although Cicero didn’t quite adhere the maxim ‘that government is best which governs least,’ his dogma was perhaps closer to ‘that government is best which steals and massacres least.’

And though he may have been keen to downplay his role as a policy maker, Cicero began to revel in his exciting new incarnation of commander-in-chief – a role for which the bookish Cicero had never previously had much penchant nor panache.

It was at such a time that Cicero was at his most boastful, bragging and blatantly balderdash.

His letters home ooze faux-modesty when it comes to his role as a military man:

“We camped near Issus in the very spot where Alexander, a considerably better general than you or I, pitched his camp against Darius”.

“I received… from the army… this bauble of a title (imperator)”.

“I do not regard the honour (of a Triumph) as something to be unduly coveted”.

Cicero failed to mention, however, that he had more than one helping hand in military accomplishments.

Despite disparaging his brother Quintus and fellow legate Bibulus as being inadequate to the post of command, both were, unlike Cicero, distinguished military men. Cicero’s ally in the region, Cassius, was also instrumental in the successes for which Cicero takes credit.

Indeed, the most telling evidence which belies Cicero’s military credentials was the fact that he never actually engaged the Parthians in open combat.

The end of his Cilician duties were both a blessing and a curse to Rome’s great orator.

Cicero’s return from Cilicia in November 50 BCE would precede, if not quite foreshadow, the civil wars in Rome to come. Twice in the coming decade Cicero would hitch his wagon to the wrong horse and suffer as a consequence.

Ironically, the conflict, which led to Cicero’s first exile, between Julius Caesar and Pompey could only take place because both men’s armies had been idle – idle because Cicero had left such (relatively) pacific conditions out East. Cicero wrote:

“If neither of the two goes off to the Parthian war, I see great quarrels ahead in which strength and steel will be the arbiters.”

The two sides of Cicero - his vanity and arrogance on the one, and his loyalty to and belief in the Republic on the other - were brought into sharp focus at the time it mattered most, when the die had been well and truly cast.

Cicero was given sagacious warnings by his friends concerning the impending strife, including one from Caelius Rufus:

“It behoves a man to take the more respectable side so long as the struggle is political and not by force of arms; but when it comes to actual fighting he should choose the stronger, and reckon the safer course the better.”

However, Cicero heeded not these wise words and was ultimately prepared to put his own neck on the line rather than see the Republic fall without a fight.

His sacrifice was futile in all but one respect: it showed our supercilious and sanctimonious novus homo for what he really was, a man whose nobility came from within, who loved and respected the traditions upon which his society was built, and who could see the danger that the age of the dictators was ushering in.

Ultimately, and with the greatest of dignity, Marcus Tullius Cicero paid for his convictions with his life.

Figure of Cicero

Pompey needs a Buddy

(49-45 BCE)

Though Rome expected an imminent Parthian invasion due to the blowback Crassus created, the Parthians never came.

Instead, in the west of Rome, the Great Roman Civil War exploded, from 49 - 45 BCE. The civil war was a politico-military conflict which pitted Pompey against Caesar, each vying for leadership of the Roman state.

It was during this time that Pompey sought Parthian assistance, despite the fact that they were Rome’s nemesis in the east and had recently decimated Crassus’ army.

However, Pompey had no choice in the matter for after his defeat in the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BCE he didn’t have the armies he once possessed, ones that were loyal and battle-hardened. Instead, Pompey had the “senatorial and the equestrian order and from the regularly enrolled troops, and had gathered vast numbers from the subject and allied peoples and kings.”

Essentially, Pompey had a quagmire of experienced and inexperienced forces all of which swayed in loyalty. Caesar, on the other hand, had the legions of the state, a well-armed professional fighting force of uniformity.

The odds were very much against Pompey.

Thus, Pompey’s military handicap and lack of wealth forced him to look for financial aid elsewhere in order to acquire additional forces. In the words of Plutarch,

“Pompey had now to plan and act on the basis of existing circumstances. He sent messengers to the various cities, and sailed to some of them himself, asking for money and for men to serve in his ships.” (Plutarch, Pompey, 76)

Of the many messengers Pompey sent, one of them visited Parthia. Pompey’s interest in seeking Parthian help was due to the fact that they were the,

“most capable of both receiving and protecting [Pompey] them in their present weakness and later of helping them to build up their strength and sending them out to fight again with a large force.”

Pompey’s advisor Theophanes, however, suggested that Egypt was a safer bet, because the rulers of Egypt, the Ptolemies, were indebted to Pompey for his kindness. If Pompey chose Parthia for an ally over Egypt, he would be playing second fiddle to the anti-Roman Parthians and be consequently at their mercy.

Pompey had already made up his mind that Egypt was a safer bet, but decided to send an envoy to Parthia just in case. The envoy’s visit to the court of Arsaces caused Julius Caesar to become suspicious of Pompey’s motives, because while he knew Pompey had sent an envoy, he had to speculate on who was sent.

Cassius Dio provides more detail into the matter:

“I have heard, indeed, that Pompey even thought of fleeing to the Parthians, but I cannot credit the report. For that race so hated the Romans as a people ever since Crassus had made his expedition against them, and Pompey especially, because he was related to Crassus, that they had even imprisoned his envoy who came with a request for aid, though he was a senator.” (Dio, 42,2)

What Cassius Dio did not credit was whether or not Pompey considered political asylum if the situation turned bleak. However, even though such a fact cannot be verified, it still does not negate the possibility.

Moreover, Cassius was wrong about the Parthians hating the Romans. It is mentioned that King Orodes made it quite clear to Crassus that if his army was sent by the Roman people, there would be a war to the bitter end. However, the ambassadors were smarter than that; they understood the difference between a nation declaring war and one man’s ambition.

As quoted above, Cassius Dio did mention that Pompey’s envoy, who happened to be a senator, was imprisoned. The unknown envoy may have been Lucilius Hirrus, something that was speculated by Caesar himself. According to Cicero, Hirrus was a lousy politician who spoke with a lisp and was the butt of Cicero’s jokes. Indeed, Hirrus was described by the famous roman orator as a “would-be-noble.”

Additionally, Cassius Dio reported that the Parthians hated Pompey because he was related to Crassus. The fact that Hirrus happened to be a cousin of Pompey may have been the reason for his imprisonment, but this seems unlikely.

What might have caused Hirrus to be locked away (and in trouble with Orodes) was his “fatuous conceit.” Once Hirrus arrived at the court of King Orodes, he quickly fell into disfavour. First, he laid out Pompey’s terms. Orodes evidently agreed with these and was willing to forgive and “promised to be his ally,” but on one condition: Pompey had to hand over Syria.

Orodes’ response did not go over well with Hirrus, who spoke on Pompey’s behalf. Knowing full well that Pompey was not about to let go of his prosperous and strategic province,  Hirrus likely insulted Orodes, which, in turn, led to his imprisonment.

However, Hirrus’ actions are mere speculation as there is no concrete proof Hirrus ever visited the court of Orodes in the first place. But one thing is certain; an envoy was imprisoned, not for his relation to Pompey, but probably for his demeanor during negotiations.

The news of the imprisoned envoy caused a stir among Pompey’s advisors and it may have prompted Pompey to unanimously choose Egypt as his base of operations. This decision was also understandable due to cultural similarities between Rome and Egypt, as opposed to Parthia.

Whatever the case may be, Pompey’s refusal of Orodes’ terms was a game changer… because once Pompey stepped foot in Egypt, his fate was sealed.

Had he accepted the offer and received the financial and military backing to battle Caesar, he might even have saved his life and secured his place of power in Rome. However, Pompey went to Egypt where he was assassinated and Caesar rose to a higher, previously unseen level of power in the Roman Empire.

Pompey’s alternative course in history with the Parthians was never realised.

Figure of Pompey

Figure of Pompey’s Assassination

What likely got Caesar

(48-44 BCE)

Caesar desperately wanted to attack the Parthians, maybe to avenge poor Crassus or perhaps for political gain and wealth. Though the reasons can never be verified, it is probable that what first got Caesar’s blood boiling was a man named Caecilius Bassus.

It was 48 BCE when Bassus, a Pompeian supporter, fled to Syria and found safety in the city of Tyre. Pompey had just been defeated at the decisive Battle of Pharsalus in the civil war between Caesar and Pompey, and, being on the loser’s side, Bassus had to leave.  He chose the city of Tyre because its former governor, Metellus Scipio, also supported Pompey. However, Scipio was not in Tyre, because after the Battle of Pharsalus, Scipio fled to Africa.  In 47 BCE Scipio was replaced by Sextus Julius Caesar, who was none other than Julius Caesar’s cousin.

Meanwhile, Bassus’ goal was to lay low and survive in Syria. As time passed, however, Bassus began to re-associate himself with the soldiers in Tyre, particularly the soldiers of the newly appointed governor, Sextus Julius Caesar. Then reports of Caesar’s movements reached Bassus, and alarmed for his life, he was no longer content to stay in Tyre.

And so, Bassus got to work. He was able to spread disinformation about Caesar, allowing him to gain the support of some of Sextus’ soldiers. As Bassus’ propaganda grew, so did his following. Eventually Bassus was able to stir up a silent rebellion within Tyre, enabling him to gain a political foothold in Syria.

Julius Caesar’s cousin, however, was not so dim. Sextus grew suspicious of Bassus due to the large influx of soldiers joining him and so questioned the ambitious fellow. Bassus professed that in his defense the soldiers he was collecting were being gathered to aid Mithridates, the Pergamenian, for an expedition against Bosporus.

Surely Sextus could see this as a noble task? It was a lie, of course, but Sextus believed Bassus and allowed him to go freely.

Shortly after Bassus was released, he forged a letter claiming that the previous governor Scipio had informed him that Caesar had been defeated and killed in Africa. The letter also contained news that apparently Bassus had been appointed as the new governor of Syria.

However, the reality was just the opposite of Bassus’ forged fancy. In fact, it was Caesar who defeated and killed Scipio in Africa at the Battle of Thapsus in 46 BCE.

Sextus, refusing to believe the falsehoods of Bassus, prepared for war. Additionally, it finally became clear to Sextus that Bassus had actually been collecting soldiers all this time to take over the governorship of Syria, and not to go against Bosporus, as he had previously claimed. Sextus had been duped.

Bassus immediately went to Tyre and gathered his forces to attack. He advanced against the legions of Sextus, but was defeated and wounded. While it was a great victory for Sextus, Bassus was not completely finished. He was still able to win over the hearts and minds of some of Sextus’ soldiers, and in 46 BCE, those men rose up and assassinated Sextus.

Once again Syria needed a new governor and in December 46 BCE, Quintus Cornificius, the governor of Cilicia at the time, was awarded the new position by Caesar. However, if Cornificius wanted to occupy his new post, he would have to fight for it.

Because of the chaotic situation, Gaius Antistius Vetus, appointed Quaestor Pro Praetore of Syria by Caesar, was sent into Syria and to engage Bassus. Vetus had the upper hand over Bassus, who had no choice but to hide behind the walls of the city of Apamea.

Enter Alchaudonius. An Arab mercenary, Alchaudonius had been called on behalf of both Vetus and Bassus.

Now, since both Vetus and Bassus desired his services, Alchaudonius decided that it was best to stay in between Apamea and the war camps. Alchaudonius’ goal was to start a bidding war: the person who could offer the most would win his bows.

Eventually it was Bassus who won the bid. Alchaudonius made good on his promise and had a great deal of success against Vetus. It was also during this time that Bassus sent a message to the Parthian court seeking assistance. King Orodes of Parthia agreed and sent a small force to aid in lifting the siege against Apamea.

It was only with the assistance from Parthia, the long time enemy of Rome and the murderers of Crassus, that Bassus was able to claim victory.

However, Bassus’ success was fleeting, as the Parthians returned home due to the approaching winter. In the end, Bassus was able to only temporarily buy safety, for shortly after, forces loyal to Caesar would once again march into the province of Syria and beat at the gates of Apamea.

Figure of Caesar

Avenging Crassus!

(44 BCE)

Caesar vyed for dictatorial powers in Rome when Pompey, his previous ally and later his greatest rival, died. On February 14th, 44 BCE, Caesar achieved his ambitions from the Senate and officially became Dictator for Life.

Once Caesar possessed absolute power, he wasted no time in preparing for his next grand campaign, one that he had been planning for a long time: a campaign to conquer Parthia.

While the late Pompey had sought the possibility to embrace the former enemy state of Parthia as a potential ally, Caesar wanted to invade them. His desire to attack quickly gained support, as Marcus Licinius Crassus, a wealthy Roman general and politician, suffered a humiliating and crushing defeat at the hands of the Parthians, which resulted in his undignified death and a huge blow to the Roman army.

Cassius Dio, the Roman consul and noted historian, even mentions that “a longing came over all the Romans alike to avenge Crassus and those who had perished with him.” Such a desire for vengeance was particularly true of the politicians who supported Caesar.

But Caesar had one problem which could prevent him from getting even with the Parthians, and that was that he was not a king.

According to Plutarch, “a report that from the Sibylline books it appeared that Parthia could be taken if the Romans went up against it with a king, but otherwise could not be assailed.”

Basically, according to the ‘rules’, only a Roman monarch could attack the far off territory. Julius Caesar, however, had refused to call himself king, and instead chose the name Caesar, therefore making him ineligible.

However, Caesar could care less about the Sibylline books, a series of prophecies and predictions, and seemed justified in his dismissal of the supposed ‘rules.’ After all, Caesar was a man who had conquered Gaul, defeated Pompey, and defied the Roman Senate by crossing the Rubicon. The Parthians were hardly an enemy distinct from or more threatening than Caesar’s previous oppositions. Besides, the Sibylline report was a mere article of political propaganda, one that demonstrated a high and —  in the eyes of the Romans — unworthy level of respect for the Parthians.

Additionally, Caesar felt that titles were unimportant, and that what mattered, what was authentic, was the power behind the title. Indeed, Caesar was given total “command of the war… and made ample provision for it.”  Casting aside all arbitrary rules once and for all, Caesar got to work on avenging Crassus.

His first order of business was to send sixteen legions, along with 10,000 cavalry, across the Adriatic. The destination of these Roman forces was Illyria, where they would gather at Apollonia. Six of the legions, along with archers, light infantry, and cavalry, would stay in Apollonia while the rest were sent to Syria.

Caesar’s objective was to take the brunt of the forces through Lesser Armenia, allowing him safe passage. Armenia was merely the launching point for Caesar’s true desire, however, which was not just the conquest of the Iranian Plateau, but to,

“invade Scythia; and after overrunning the countries bordering on Germany and Germany itself, to come back by way of Gaul to Italy, and so to complete this circuit of his empire, which would then be bounded on all sides by the ocean.”

Though the Roman Senate was not entirely oblivious to Caesar’s grand ambitions, they clearly failed to fully understand that in Caesar’s mind, avenging Crassus went well beyond the borders of Parthia. Vindicating the late Roman general was, in reality, just a facade to facilitate Caesar’s desire for further expansion, foreign or domestic.

At the same time, it is possible that Caesar never intended to invade Parthia. Rather, being a shrewd politician who understood the power of image, Caesar intended to intimidate, rather than engage, Parthia by sending legions along the Euphrates.

Even though Caesar had many supporters in the Senate, there were those who grew tired of his continual expansion and consistent overreach of power. Ultimately these tendencies — including the Parthian invasion — led to Caesar’s famous assassination in 44 BCE. He never had a chance to fully see his hope of taking over Parthia realised.

However, even in death, Caesar’s plans would not be swept aside. One of his trusted men, by the name of Mark Antony, would pick up the gauntlet and accept the challenge.

The Romans were once again strategizing to attack Parthia

Antony Beats the War Drums but is Blinded by Lust

(40-33 BCE)

Once the dust cleared at the Battle of Philippi in 42 BCE, the victor, Mark Antony, went on a tour of his newly acquired eastern provinces. Aside from sightseeing, Antony hungered to collect his taxes, but the taxed were late to pay; Antony needed money and lots of it in order to fund his eventual Parthian War.

Unfortunately for Antony, Cassius and Brutus, though defeated, had already depleted the wealth of Asia through previous fundraising of their own, leaving Antony with only the scraps.

During his confiscation tour, Antony made it clear to all of Asia that those who aided Cassius and Brutus in their campaign were to be heavily taxed. This was political retribution, no doubt.

Antony states: “For what you contributed to our enemies in two years (and you gave them the taxes of ten years in that time) will be quite sufficient for us; but it must be paid in one year, because we are pressed by necessity.”

After hearing the news of their imminent taxation, the Greeks “threw themselves upon the ground,” pleading with Antony to understand that they did not contribute willingly but were forced to give much more than just money.

After hearing their plea, Antony conceded - sort of. He presented a new deal in which his subjects should pay only “nine years’ taxes, payable in two years. It was ordered that the kings, princes, and free cities should make additional contributions according to their means, respectively.”

Antony then made sure his provinces throughout Asia ponied up the capital by appointing agents to collect the taxes by threat of force. The purpose of the double tax was not only to pay his men and resupply the ranks, but also to fund his up-and-coming campaigns.

Unfortunately, Antony required a lot of cash to finance his prospective campaigns, and his taxations did little to fulfill his need.

According to Plutarch, the amount of money said to have been extracted from Antony’s new subjects amounted to 200,000 talents. And while we can’t be certain, it seems to us this may be an exaggeration, because if Antony had indeed retrieved that immense sum, or even a portion of it, then why did he go looking for additional funds elsewhere?

But elsewhere he did look, straight into the arms of the famously beautiful Cleopatra and her enticing wealth.

In 41 BCE, Antony summoned the Egyptian queen to meet with him in Cilicia to answer the charges made against her for funding Cassius during the war. Antony knew full well that Cleopatra had actually stayed out of the war but wanted to arrange the meeting nonetheless; she had the financial means to assist his own future expedition against Parthia - an admirable maneuver from a broke man.

However, Cleopatra was no ordinary woman and not so easily controlled. She decided to ignore Antony and his messenger’s request. Instead, she made them beg for her.

Eventually she conceded to meet with him, sailing to Antony in extreme opulence. Whatever charges were made against her were quickly forgotten due to her luxurious entrance into Tarsus.

At first, the relationship between Antony and Cleopatra was merely political, but with time Antony fell prey to the charms of the alluring queen. He began to spend quite lavishly to win her over, and once won, the Roman general was quick to forgo his duties.

Lust-struck, Antony discarded urgency for leisure, and consequently decided to go back with Cleopatra to Alexandria. The Roman hadn’t yet lost all his wits, however. Though mesmerized by Cleopatra’s supposed beauty and charm, Antony had acquired what he sorely needed: capital.

Before Antony departed for Alexandria, however, he had some unfinished business in Syria; he needed to appoint a new governor (Lucius Decidius Saxa) and relocate two defeated republican legions.

But it was while he was there in Syria that Antony unintentionally rekindled the conflict between Rome and Parthia…and it started with a cavalry raid.

Antony ordered his cavalry to raid the wealthy city of Palmyra, Syria in order to obtain quick money through the threat of force and to press charges upon the population for not choosing a side. The citizens of Palmyra were independent and had wisely remained neutral when it came to international disputes. Being primarily a frontier city of merchants who sold foreign goods, Palmyra had much to lose by choosing a side.

But because Antony didn’t know whether the citizens of Palmyra had supported him or Cassius and Brutus, he erred on the side of caution and spitefully decided that they must be punished.

Consequently, word reached the city that a raid was to be expected. The inhabitants of Palmyra smartly gathered their belongings and moved across the Euphrates River and into Parthian territory. Once safely across, they set up a defensive position on the bank.

When the Roman cavalry inevitably entered the city of Palmyra, they found nothing and returned to Antony with as much. Despite, or perhaps because, the cavalry came back empty handed, Antony decided to impose severe taxes on all the Syrians.

The heavy tax burden, along with the failed Palmyra raid, caused a wave of Syrian refugees to seek asylum in Parthia. Once there, the Syrian tribal leaders pleaded their case against the Romans before King Orodes II of Parthia.

Meanwhile, Antony was oblivious to the situation he had created, instead taking further steps to divide his army for the winter. The Roman politician had no time for the Syrian outcry over the tax raises; he was ready to leave Syria to be with his Cleopatra in the winter of 41 BCE.

Enter General Quintus Labienus. A previous supporter of Cassius and Brutus, this Roman republican fled to Parthia after their infamous defeat in the Battle of Philippi.

It was at this time when Labienus, still living among the Parthians, spoke to King Orodes. Word had reached Labienus that Antony had left Syria, and so Labienus informed Orodes that the Roman forces “were either destroyed utterly or impaired.”

While the information Labienus received was only partially accurate, one tidbit proved correct: the “remainder of the [Roman] troops were in a state of mutiny and would again be at war.”

Labienus knew that the two defeated republican legions Antony had placed in Syria would possibly switch allegiances to get revenge if the Parthians were to invade and show support.

Furthermore, if Orodes agreed to Labienus’ plan to invade Syria and mobilized his forces, the objective of the campaign would not be a massive raid, but to subjugate Syria and adjoining provinces of interest. Additionally, Labienus persuaded Orodes to allow him to take personal responsibility in leading the Parthian forces.

Finally Labienus requested that he be allowed, if everything went well in Syria, to help free the various provinces in opposition towards Roman rule.

Orodes agreed. The Parthian king entrusted Labienus with his son, Prince Pacorus, along with a large Parthian force.

And so, while Antony played lover to Cleopatra in Alexandria during the winter of 41-40 BCE, the Parthians began to mobilize their forces. Of course it would take time to fully mobilize - but they would be ready to set off and ruin Mark Antony by springtime.

Shock and Awe

(40 BCE)

Once the spring of 40 BCE arrived, the Parthians, led by the republican Roman Labienus and King Orodes’ son, Prince Pacorus, crossed the Euphrates River and advanced in Syria. Consisting of cavalry and a hefty supply train, the Parthian force headed straight for the city of Apamea.

It was only then that Antony, who was relaxing with Cleopatra in Alexandria, received word that the Parthians had invaded Syria. Wasting no more time, Antony immediately departed, along with two hundred ships.

But a spanner was promptly thrown into the works. While he was nearing the province of Phoenicia, Antony received startling news; his wife Fulvia and his brother Lucius had waged war on Antony’s behalf - and it was against none other than Octavian, the Second Triumvirate member and important funder of Antony’s Parthian campaign.

Moreover, Fulvia and Lucius’ attempt was not successful.

With civil strife at hand, Antony was roused to action. Antony distanced himself from the chaotic events, claiming no responsibility for his wife and brother’s actions, and set course for Italy to settle the issue in person.

In the midst of civil upheaval in Rome, Antony was forced to put Syria aside for a moment.

Antony’s already-botched plans were thrown into further disarray when his wife Fulvia escaped Rome and set sail to meet her husband, who was still on the seas on his way to Italy. But during the journey Fulvia fell sick and never recovered. Antony became a widower.

Antony’s grim circumstances went from bad to worse. Not only did he have to contend with unrest in Rome and news of a dead wife, Antony also received word that Calenus, his governor in Gaul, had died. Octavian took advantage of Calenus’s death and rushed in to confiscate the province, along with all of the legions stationed there. Octavian also took over Antony’s province of Spain, missing none of those legions either.

Octavian’s appropriation of Antony’s provinces and legions was a clear violation of the agreement among the triumvirates; it became clear that their old political alliance was now off.

If Antony needed any further proof of Octavian’s displeasure, he received it upon his return to Italy. As soon as he arrived at the shores of southern Italy at Brundisium, Antony was denied access to Rome and forbidden to disembark.

Bereft of all other options, Antony decided to pull away and land his troops elsewhere. He chose a convenient spot where he and his troops were able to blockade the city. Once Octavian’s legions arrived, war seemed inevitable.

Octavian and Antony, however, ultimately lacked the final decision on the matter. The men and officers on both sides simply refused to fight. Thus, the two proud Romans were forced to hammer out their differences peacefully.

It was September 40 BCE when the Treaty of Brundisium was signed. The agreed upon deal gave Octavian all of the lands west of the Ionian Sea, while Antony got the territories east of the aforementioned waters. Even though the treaty declared a tangible border between the two men, Antony still lost a good amount of legions and resources. The seized and now unavailable legions were, most importantly, those which Antony had wanted to employ to push back the Parthian tide in Syria.

On that note, let’s get back to Syria and that oncoming invasion.

The Parthian force eventually reached the city of Apamea, where they were able to subdue only the suburbs and nothing more. The Parthians were, in fact, not equipped at that time to conduct siege warfare, but they left Apamea with the following message: as long as the Parthians are present in Syria, the city will eventually submit.

While Apamea was besieged with fear, the republican legions that were once under the command of Brutus and Cassius got word of the Parthian invasion. And, as predicted, they decided to join Labienus, the republican Roman leading the attack.

Saxa, the governor of Syria, mustered his forces to meet the Parthians head on. It was an utter disaster and Saxa’s forces were obliterated. While Saxa lay low in his camp, arrows delivering messages began to pour in.

Labienus’ directive was simple: “join us!”

Saxa, who refused to side with the Parthians, became paranoid that his associates would assent to Labienus’ message and he secretly fled. Not long after, Labienus entered the camp, killing many of the men while sparing others. When Labienus learned that Saxa had fled to Antioch, he quickly marched on Apamea again, only this time the city surrendered without a fight.

Saxa likely got word of the surrender and decided to abandon Syria as a whole, which then allowed Labienus to take Antioch without a struggle. Labienus continued to pursue Saxa in the province of Cilicia, where the once-governor of Syria was put to death.

With Saxa dead and Syria subjugated, King Orodes’ son, Prince Pacorus, declared himself master of Syria. Most of Syria, however, seemed to welcome Pacorus as a liberator.

With Syria under Parthian control, phase one of Orodes’ and Labienus’ plan was complete. In taking Syria for Parthia, Labienus gained some of Rome’s defeated legions, which he then used to help Parthia acquire parts of Asia Minor.

Phase two of the plan commenced; while Labienus headed north, Pacorus, son of Orodes, took Parthian forces into Judea to place a king on the throne that would support the Parthian interests.

The Invasion of Judea

Once Syria was secured by the Parthians, a man by the name of Antigonus asked to meet with King Orodes’ son and ‘liberator of Syria’, Prince Pacorus.

Antigonus Mattathias was the son of King Aristobulus II of Judea and his mission was simple: offer Pacorus a thousand talents and five hundred women if he would dispose of the current king of Judea, Hyrcanus, who happened to be Antigonus’ uncle and a friend to Rome.

Pacorus agreed to the terms. It would be beneficial and comfortable to the Parthians to have an anti-Roman king on the throne of Judea.

And so Pacorus began to plan his offensive in Judea, with Antigonus’ goals in mind and with his help. First Pacorus divided his forces. He would then proceed down the coast until he reached the border of Judea while another commander by the name of Barzapharnes would approach the province through the interior.

Antigonus, knowing Judea well and aiding Pacorus, led the Parthian forces to a place called Mount Carmel, which was a strategic location and a good place to assemble and hide forces before proceeding further. It was here at Carmel that Antigonus was able to gather the Jews who lived in the area.

With a ragtag Jewish army, along with professional Parthian support, Antigonus went into the city of Jerusalem.

However, the Parthians did not enter Jerusalem with Antigonus’ forces, for this occupation was a Jewish affair; those in Jerusalem were fighting on the account of a new king. Instead, the Parthian forces remained in the countryside until further notice.

Once in Jerusalem, Antigonus’ men quickly made their way to the palace and besieged it. Amazingly, two men in the palace were able to hold off Antigonus’ forces, and they were none other than Phasaelus and the soon to be famous king, Herod.

As of yet, Antigonus controlled the temple but nothing more. Once further Jewish reinforcements arrived, Antigonus felt that he could take the palace, however Herod and Phasaelus were able to drive the enemy away once again.

It seemed that there was no hope for capturing the palace…or Jerusalem for that matter.

Antigonus, growing tired of the seesaw battle, finally looked to the Parthians for help. Pacorus decided that the best way to end the fight was through negotiation, and so sent a cupbearer (also by the name of Pacorus) along with many horsemen. Once they entered the city, Pacorus offered talks to end the crisis.

Phasaelus, who had probably grown tired of restraining the oncoming forces, liked what was said and agreed to the terms. King Hyrcanus, Pacorus’ original target to dethrone, likewise assented to the terms.

Subsequently, Pacorus left two hundred horsemen and ten “freemen” behind as he escorted the conceding men to Barzapharnes, the other Parthian commander’s camp in Galilee. Pacorus and the men of Jerusalem went as an embassy, with Phasaelus acting as ambassador.

As for Herod, he refused to leave Jerusalem. Before Phasaelus and King Hyrcanus left with Pacorus, Herod pleaded with them that they should consider the terms of so hasty an agreement. Herod insisted it was a trap, and consequently decided to withhold concession for as long as possible.

But once the two Judean captives arrived at Galilee, they were received with open arms and presented gifts. The atmosphere suggested anything but deception. The pleasantries, however, was a ruse.

Phasaelus and Hyrcanus were soon led to the sea-side city of Ecdippa (Az-Zeeb) to meet with Antigonus and Prince Pacorus. All appearances suggested that the meeting with Antigonus and Pacorus went smoothly; Phasaelus and Hyrcanys harbored no suspicions, at least until Phasaelus overheard that Antigonus had offered Pacorus a thousand talents and five hundred women in exchange for the throne.

Upon hearing about Antigonus’ clandestine offer, Phasaelus and Hyrcanus realized that Herod might have been right all along. Those who sympathized with Phasaelus requested that he flee by horse but he refused. Phasaelus remained skeptical of the whole ordeal until a man by the name of Ophellius approached him.

Ophellius made it clear to Phasaelus that everything he had heard was true, and that his source of the disturbing information was the richest man of all Syria - Saramalla. Even Saramalla sympathized with Phasaelus and offered him ships to flee by sea. However, Phasaelus once again refused the offer, for he would not leave Hyrcanus’ side, nor abandon his elder brother Herod.

Even bearing the knowledge of Antigonus’ deception, Phasaelus decided to meet with the second Parthian commander, Barzapharnes. Phasaelus tried every tactic he thought possible, including attempting to bribe Barzapharnes with much more than what Antigonus had promised. But Barzapharnes refused, laughing at the offer, and attempted to assuage Phasaelus that what he had heard was lies. Afterwards, Barzapharnes left to meet with Pacorus.

Phasaelus was confused and rightfully so, but that skepticism soon went away when he and Hyrcanus were placed in chains. Phasaelus was able, at least, to get a message out to Herod, informing him of Antigonus’ and Pacorus’ treachery and that Herod had been right all along.

With mixed feelings of vindication and regret, Herod prepared to flee Jerusalem.

And so Herod gathered his family members, some soldiers, eight hundred followers (of which five hundred were the wives of Hyrcanus, the same wives promised to Pacorus) and left Jerusalem.

Once the Parthians realized Herod was gone, chaos reigned in the streets of Jerusalem. It was time to pay up, and with the city evacuated of not only its remaining leader but also the promised five hundred wives, the Parthians plundered the city of Jerusalem. Once they had exhausted the Holy City of its valuables, they pillaged the countryside, even destroying the city of Marissa.

Having gutted Jerusalem and its surroundings of its treasures and resources, the Parthians remained in the city for a final mission: to restore Antigonus to the throne. Pacorus escorted Antigonus into Jerusalem, where Pacorus awaited his reward of a thousand talents and the five hundred women, but Antigonus had neither to offer. Herod and the Parthian soldiers had taken it all.

Fearing that Pacorus might restore Hyrcanus to the throne, Antigonus cut off Hyrcanus’ ears, which made Hyrcanus permanently ineligible for the priesthood under Jewish law. But Hyrcanus was not killed. Instead, the Parthians escorted him to the city of Babylon where he lived for four years among the Jewish population. (Eventually Herod would invite Hyrcanus back into Jerusalem only to kill him in 30 BCE.)

In a sense, Hyrcanus was an insurance policy to Pacorus if the Parthians did not deem Antigonus favorable.

As for Phasaelus, he took his own life. Hands bound by chains, his only option was to bash his head against a stone until life fled him.

Meanwhile, Herod took refuge in Egypt where he met with Queen Cleopatra as he looked feverously for Antony. Cleopatra insisted that Herod remain in Egypt, as she had been planning a military expedition of her own and Herod was a valuable political asset. She even offered Herod a commission to lead the expedition into Judea.

Herod refused, and insisted he must get to Rome quickly. When at last Herod arrived in Italy, he conferred to Mark Antony with a heavy heart all the misfortune that had occurred. Antony was moved by Herod’s message and made it clear to the Senate and to Octavian that it was in Rome’s best interest during this war with Parthia to place Herod in charge. The vote was unanimous; Judea had a new unofficial king.

Figure of Pacorus

Map of Syria

Figure of Labienus

Map of Judea

The Invasion of Asia Minor

While Prince Pacorus was busy playing “game of thrones” in Judea, Labienus was securing and obtaining the allegiance of Cilicia, the coastal region of Asia Minor, south of the central Anatolian plateau. Once this was accomplished, the Parthians and former republican legions began to pour throughout the interior of Asia-Minor.

It is mentioned that many of the cities submitted without putting up a fight. The reason for the easy surrender was that many cities simply could not afford to resist, as Mark Antony had drained many of the local treasuries. Consequently the Parthians were welcomed as liberators.

However one thing is certain: the momentum of the Parthian force was moving so rapidly and with such relative ease that we can infer that the Romans had little or no garrisons that were able to put up an ample defense to stem the tide. Even the governor of Asia, Lucius Munatius Plancus, not only fled his capital at Ephesus but also fled the province altogether and set sail for one of the islands.

Meanwhile, the Roman republican general Labienus approached the western edges of Asia-Minor, continuing his invasion and destroying those who stood in his way. In Labienus’ path of invasion and destruction were three cities, which Cassius Dio mentions, two of which were devastated by the Parthian forces: Mylasa and Alabanda.

The city of Mylasa, located in the province of Caria, was taken without conflict and even accepted Parthian troops to garrison the city. Moreover, once Labienus pressed on with his campaign, the citizens of Mylasa held a festival in honor of the incoming forces. But it was during this event that an orator, by the name of Hybreas, spread discontent among the inhabitants, which quickly turned into open rebellion, resulting in the slaughter of the Parthian garrison.

A similar situation occurred at the city of Alabanda, also located in the province of Caria, when Labienus left a garrison only to be slaughtered by the citizens.

Once word of these insurgencies reached Labienus, he quickly marched to the locations. The city of Mylasa had been abandoned by the time the Parthian forces arrived, but it was no matter. The Parthians still looted the town of its valuables before destroying it all together. The citizens of Alabanda also suffered for their disobedience; they were massacred and their possessions were stolen.

Once the campaign had ended, Labienus had conquered so much territory that the Parthian Empire now extended from the borders of India in the east to the shores of the Aegean Sea in the west. To commemorate his great victory over the Romans, Labienus adopted the title, Parthicus Imperator (Parthian Emperor).

It’s no surprise that while Labienus was conquering Roman held territory in Asia-Minor, he acted no differently when it came to confiscation. Like Antony, Brutus, and Cassius before, Labienus went about levying taxes and plundering temples for wealth.

If Parthia wanted to show that they were indeed liberators, far different from the previous occupiers, then they weren’t doing a very good job. It seems that even under Parthian rule, nothing changed for Asia Minor.

Antony’s War to Avenge Crassus and fulfill Caesar’s Dream

(40-33 BCE)

In 37 BCE, Antony had begun preparations for war. However, his first act hitherto was a campaign to squash, replace, and consolidate many of the regions in Asia Minor and along the Levant that were sympathetic to the republican cause or to Parthian rule.

Antony made sweeping replacements throughout the regions: he established Darius in Pontus, Herod in Judea, Polemon in Cilicia, and Amyntas in Pisidia. Mark Antony’s reappointment of rulers was just a fraction of the many changes that occurred. Once his western flank was secure from possible rebellion, Antony set his eyes on Armenia.

Although Antony secured the various provinces in Asia-Minor under Roman hegemony, he still had an important issue stopping him from proceeding forward with his Parthian campaign: money. Antony was cash-strapped. Even those rulers in Asia-Minor whom Antony had established could offer little financial aid, for Asia was bankrupt.

In order to acquire the funds needed to pay for his grand expedition against Parthia, Antony turned to the age-old practice of debasement by mixing the silver denarius with iron. But even this tactic did little to improve Antony’s funds.

If taxation and inflation could not provide the capital Antony needed, his last option was borrowing. As he made his way towards Syria, he requested Cleopatra, his love and financier of war, to meet with him in Antioch. Once Cleopatra reached Antioch, Antony exchanged territory for money, notably the provinces of, “Phoenicia, Coele Syria, Cyprus, and a large part of Cilicia; and still further, the balsam-producing part of Judaea, and all that part of Arabia Nabataea which slopes toward the outer sea.”

Once Antony procured the much-needed funds, his second act was to force pro-Parthian Armenia to submit to Roman rule.

In theory, Rome and Armenia were in a state of war against one another due to the alliance between Armenia and Parthia. Consequently, Antony sent an invasion force into Armenia, led by General Publius Canidius Crassus. Once the Roman legions entered Armenia, King Artavasdes II immediately submitted to Roman rule.

With Armenia under the Roman sphere of influence, Antony then had a base to launch his war against Parthia. In order to strengthen his objective, Antony gave Canidius Crassus another mission: invade and subjugate the provinces of Iberia and the adjoining country of Albania in order to protect his rear once the Parthian campaign was underway.

While Antony was stabilizing his territorial holdings and expanding into others, King Phraates of Parthia went on a murder spree targeting Parthian nobility who conspired against him or might potentially conspire against him.

The results of Phraates’ actions caused many to flee Parthia seeking a place of safety. Of those, a Parthian noble and officer by the name Monaeses, a wealthy man who recently took part in the Parthian invasions of Judea and Asia-Minor, took refuge among the Romans.

Once behind Roman lines, Monasese sought the ear of Mark Antony. Monasese made it clear to Antony that if he were to place him in command of the Roman forces, he would not only successfully invade and defeat the Parthian forces, of whom he felt that many would join his side without a fight, but would also conquer most of Parthia.

Antony found Monasese’s offer so agreeable that he temporarily gave Monasese three cities, Larissa, Arethusa, and Hierapolis, until he finished the war. If the invasion went according to plan, Antony promised Monanse Parthia as his reward.

Many Parthians had meanwhile looked upon Monasese’s flight from Parthia with favor, which caused King Phraates concern; he understood that if a Roman army entered Parthia with Monasese at its head, it was very likely that Monasese would become the next king of Parthia.

Phraates decided to send an envoy offering friendship to Monasese in hopes to settle their differences, and Monasese agreed to return to Parthia for negotiations. Antony initially inferred betrayal from these discussions, but ultimately saw a political opportunity. He agreed to allow Monasese to return, and sent along a Roman envoy to accompany him with a message: give back the captured standards, release any survivors of Carrhae, and agree to peace.

Phraates considered Antony’s terms, but he was no fool. Phraates knew that even if he were to agree, Antony would still attack.

Monasese confirmed Phraates’s suspicions of Antony’s inevitable offense. Though Monasese portrayed himself as an enemy of Phraates to Antony, he may very well have done the same with Phraates against Antony. Why else would Phraates mobilize additional forces and place them along the Euphrates, unless he had ample information concerning Roman troop movements? Depending on unconfirmed sources and information was the Achilles heel of the Romans, evidenced by Crassus at Carrhae in 53 BCE.

With Cleopatra’s financing and Antony’s territorial holdings stabilized, Antony began the process of amassing a juggernaut consisting of 60,000 Roman infantry, 10,000 Iberian and Celtic cavalry, and 30,000 troops comprised from other nations, in addition to assembling a wealth of resources needed to grease the wheels of the army. An additional 20,000 legionaries would have been sent to Antony from a deal struck between him and Octavian at Tarentum, but it never materialized. In total, Antony had at minimum 113,000 troops at his disposal (twice the size of Crassus invasion force of 53 BCE) and was poised for immediate action.

Antony’s Parthian War

Antony’s troubles began right away, with the mobilization of his troops and resources. The Roman forces were tired and needed to rest, especially the infantry, as they had marched a thousand miles and arrived in the winter of 37-36 BCE, before the spring.

Moreover, once reaching the Euphrates River, Antony needed to make a tactical decision. Should he take the path Crassus took into Parthia, or head north and invade Media Atropatene, a Parthian client state via Armenia?

Eschewing Crassus’ route, Antony decided to head north towards Armenia. The Euphrates was thronged with Phraates’ defensive forces, and with his enemies scrutinizing his every movement, Antony’s choice to head north was obvious.

But he also proceeded northward from Zeugma on the advice of King Artavasdes of Armenia, who informed Antony that his (Artavasdes’) forces in Media Atropatene were with the Parthians patrolling the Euphrates. This meant that the Media Atropatene was unguarded, generating an opening for Antony’s forces in an otherwise locked-down Parthia

Moreover, Media Atropatene had rugged terrain, which would negate the use of cavalry, thus forcing the Parthians and their allies off their famous horses and into hand-to-hand combat with the Roman legionaries where the Latins could perform better.

As Antony made his way into Armenia, Artavasdes proudly displayed and offered his forces to Antony, which included “6,000 thousand horses drawn up in battle array in full armor and 7,000 foot.”

But the Romans had informants among them, as well as those watching their movements nearby, who relayed information back to King Phraates. Knowing that Antony and his army would soon be entering the Parthian client state of Media Atropatene, Phraates sent a message to 400 Parthian nobles. Their orders were to assemble their forces, totaling 50,000 cavalry, and prepare to forestall, frustrate, and divert, if not ultimately destroy, the Antony forces.

As the Romans moved towards Praaspa, the capital of Media Atropatene, they did so without hindrance. Antony grew suspicious. Why was it that they had encountered no enemy during a lengthy journey deep into enemy territory? But, no, in fact Antony had faith in his guides and he plowed on without considering that he might be walking into a trap.

Then, en route, Antony made a critical mistake: growing impatient with the sluggish pace of his forces, he divided his army.

It was not his infantry or cavalry causing the slow movement, but the siege engines and baggage train. Not only had the sheer weight of supplies slowed their movement, but by bringing cumbersome wagons along with siege engines over miles of rough terrain, Antony had unwittingly delayed his forces further.

The dense forests of Media Atropatene, easy for infantry and cavalry to maneuver through, were impossible for the laden wagons and massive siege engines, requiring tree removal, a burden unto itself.

The weight of supplies also proved to be an issue, as everything Antony had brought was deemed too important to diminish or discard. On top of that, there was the baggage train holding valuable supplies, such as food, weapons, clothes, officer’s tentage, and not to mention medical supplies and medics.

Overall, the baggage train was the lifeblood of the moving city.

But then Antony decided to split his army in two; he would take the bulk of the force and place the baggage and siege engines under the command of Oppius Statianus, with a security force consisting of two legions. Once Antony detached himself from his burden, it was full steam ahead.

Antony was confident that he could take the city of Praaspa with ease. As soon as they were outside the city walls, the Romans quickly began the grueling task of building earth mounds in preparation for the arrival of siege equipment, particularly the siege towers.

In battle, the Romans would need to rely upon the invaluable height provided by the siege towers. Otherwise, they would suffer the carnage of being packed at the foot of the city walls. On the ground, the Romans were in range of deadly projectiles. Unfortunately, the process of creating the elevated earth ramps (without the siege tower benefits) only brought the Romans closer to the danger.

Unfortunately, the siege equipment never arrived, and Antony impatiently gave the order to assault the walls nonetheless. One can speculate that the Roman infantry likely used makeshift ladders or other ineffective climbing devices, but that did no good. Even with the amount of men partaking in the assault, the seige was insufficient, as the walls were strong and heavily defended.

With no success in gaining a foothold on the walls, nor any siege engines in sight, Antony grew weary, demanding a reason for the crucial delay of the siege engines. However, when news finally reached Antony, the truth dealt a crushing blow to his forces; the baggage train under the command of Statianus had been attacked, the two legions assigned to escort the train slaughtered, and the siege equipment destroyed. Many men were taken prisoner, including Polemon, king of Pontus who was later released on ransom.

The person responsible for such an assault on Antony’s forces was none other than King Phraates himself.

While Antony had busied himself with the siege of Praaspa, the Parthians had been keeping an eye on both the besiegers and the vital baggage train. Once Antony’s forces were dug in for the long haul, Phraates took advantage of the situation by sending in a large number of cavalry for a surprise attack.

Phraates also made the best of the dense forests of Media Atropatene. In some ways, the attack of Antony’s baggage train was similar to the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest in 9 AD, in which the Romans were moving through a dense German forest, and not marching in combat formation, making them vulnerable to attack.

Likewise, the legions assigned to aid in the movement and protection of the baggage train under Statianus were likely not marching in combat formation, as they not only had to provide said security but also help in moving the wagons, clearing the trees, dead brush, and the occasional rocks along the way.

In addition, there was a lack of cavalry assigned to Statianus, which would have be able to scout ahead and keep a close eye on their surroundings nearby. Therefore, it seems plausible that the Romans were attacked with a barrage of arrows after which Median infantry charged in and cut the Romans to pieces.

Antony’s overwhelming defeat on this front begged the question, where was King Artavasdes of Armenia?

Evidently, Artavasdes’ mission was to support the rear with Statianus. Plutarch mentioned that Artavasdes left due to the “despairing of the Roman cause.” Cassius Dio mentioned that he responded to the “message sent to him by Statianus, to go to his assistance, was nevertheless too late, for he found nothing but corpses.”

Both sources seem to be correct when placed in context. Artavasdes responded and when he saw the number of corpses, burnt wagons, and the smell of death in the air, he became despaired and felt that Antony and the remaining Roman army would now be goners as well. Thus, it was best to turn around, and head home before he and his forces ended up the same way.

Reliable accounts of Artavasdes’ motivations are lacking, nevertheless. If one were to speculate, however, they might come up with a different version of events. Considering that Antony had not provided Statianus with a cavalry to scout out the area, one would think that it was Artavasdes’ duty to send out cavalry scouts, to inform the legions escorting the baggage train of any oncoming enemy attacks, and to partake in the defense, if not counter the threat before it arrives. Artavasdes had been nowhere near the legions escorting the baggage train, and so his retreat back to Armenia looked as if he betrayed Antony.

With the siege engines destroyed, two legions massacred, and food running low, Antony had to make quick decisions.

Food was his top priority when the Parthians arrived in full battle array and begin challenging the Romans by shouting insults. Antony understood that if they were to sit still the Parthians would only increase in number and likely irritate his men with hit and run attacks.

Therefore, Antony decided to forage for food, taking “ten legions and three praetorian cohorts of men-atarms, together with all his cavalry.” While the search for food seemed to be a desperate resupply attempt, Antony had another motive: to get the Parthians in a pitch battle.

After a day’s march, Antony set up camp, but tore it down once he heard that the Parthians were converging. With his forces assembled, Antony gave the order to move out, seeking to avoid battle but making it clear that if the enemy comes within range, the cavalry will charge out against them.

The Parthians did come within range and the Roman cavalry rode upon and scattered them. After seeing the success of the cavalry, the Roman infantry joined in on the charge and frightened the Parthian horses by yelling and clashing their weapons against their shields, causing the beasts to flee.

Antony quickly took advantage of the situation and pursued the enemy.

Antony’s swift response, however, it was all for nothing. The infantry and cavalry were exhausted and they could not keep up with Parthian cavalry. To make matters worse, they had nothing of substance to prove a victorious battle won, for their great endeavor produced 80 dead and 30 captured. After losing 10,000 men along with their baggage train and siege engines, the Romans felt anything but triumph following their measly victory, if one could call it that.

The Romans would soon realize that their interaction with the Parthians was neither a battle nor a victory, but rather a ploy by the Parthians to test the waters. By conducting hit and run attacks, the Parthians used tactics that the Romans still had a hard time understanding, even when facing them.

The next day, Antony gave the order to head back to Praaspa. While on the move the Romans encountered a few enemy forces but as they continued on, their clashes with the Parthians increased until the whole body showed up, challenged them, and attacked them from all directions.

Antony kept moving to avoid disaster, and eventually the Romans made it safely back to Praaspa. The Parthian forces that were striking at Antony were likely conducting hit and run attacks, for their goal was not to destroy the Roman forces but rather to demoralize them. In other words, they were tenderizing the Roman forces before committing to a full-scale advance later.

Once Antony made it back to the siege at Praaspa, he received startling news. While he was away, the Median defenders were able to successfully assail the Roman besiegers, dislodge them from their positions and safely return behind the walls of the city.

Antony, enraged by the lack of discipline shown in his men not standing their ground, decided to take a disciplinary measure known as “decimation,” in which one of every ten soldiers was executed. As for the rest of the besiegers, their punishment would be to receive rations of barley instead of wheat.

But with food running low and Roman foraging parties bring back more dead and wounded than food, Antony had to do something and something quick if wanted his army to survive.

Meanwhile, Phraates felt a similar urgency concerning his own forces. Summer was gone, the air was getting colder and he, like Antony, did not want his forces to encamp for the winter. Unlike Antony,  however, Phraates was afraid that many of his men would desert due to the winter, though both men had equal reason to fear this.

As the siege continued, some Parthians, who admired the Romans for their bravery and strong will, were able to ride up next to the Roman cavalry, where they would talk of peace and explain to them that Antony was a fool if he were to stay on his current course of invasion. Phraates was offering to escort the Roman cavalry out of Parthian territory peacefully, an offer made doubly valuable by the oncoming winter and inevitable famine. King Phraates wanted to end the stagnate war before winter arrived, for his own troops would suffer the harshness of winter as Antony’s.

Once Antony received the news, he sent an envoy to meet with Phraates. He agreed but delivered his terms: If Phraates desired peace, then he must return the Roman standards they had in their possession. Phraates objected, but assured Antony of a safe escort home, nonetheless.

Antony thought long and hard over this but he had no other option. The walls of Praaspa were too strong, he had no siege equipment, food was running extremely low, and any attempt to search for a meal resulted in death. If starvation would not fell his forces, the winter surely would.

Antony had no other choice but to retreat, a decision that was difficult to explain to his men whom he had urged so vigorously. Antony felt like a failure in his great endeavor to invade Parthia, but even he understood that it was better to fail while alive and with the majority of his men intact, rather than to end up as Crassus did at Carrhae.

Anthony’s Retreat: On the Road to Hell

Once Antony decided to make the retreat from Parthia, he began to worry that King Phraates’ promise of peaceful escort out of the country was nothing more than another ruse. Consequently, he decided to act quickly.

Then, as Antony was about to give the order to march out, a Mardian, faithful to the Romans, advised Antony to keep close to the hills on the right, for exposing any part of the legions on an open tract would invite disaster. Moreover, there were many villages en route that could provide provisions for the journey.

Antony recognized the advantages of the Mardian’s plan, but took counsel with himself, for he knew the Parthians were watching and any meeting may cause the Parthians to despise and distrust his intentions.

Antony agreed to the Mardian’s proposal and asked for his pledge in good faith. The Mardian agreed to “be put in fetters until he should bring the army safely into Armenia.”

Once the Mardian was placed in fetters, the Romans marched, and continued for two days without hindrance. On the third day, Antony had decided to march in a looser order; the Parthians were the furthest thing from his mind, and it seemed that they had lived up to their bargain.

All was well until they came upon a flood that covered the road, which forestalled their crossing. While the Romans looked on at the busted dike, the Mardian was quick to notice that this was no accident. He warned Antony that the Parthians had done this; it was a trap to delay their movement.

Antony raced to assemble his forces into battle formations. As he was getting the legionaries into position, the Parthians were able to envelope and ride around the Romans, causing confusion and disorder within the ranks. The Roman light-infantry rushed to engage the Parthian horse archers, but were met with death under the archers’ hail of arrows.

Once the Roman slingers and javelin-throwers made their way and took their positions, they were able to inflict more casualties on the Parthians. Since the Roman soldiers were far more prepared and organized than they had hoped, the Parthians soon retreated and regrouped.

Just when the Parthians were coming back for round two, Antony had to make a decision: let his slingers and javelin-throwers shower the enemy with projectiles and face arrows in return, or send out his Celtic cavalry to counter them.

Antony decided that in order to save lives it was best to send out the cavalry, and once loosed, Antony gave them cover fire using his slingers as they advanced. As the Celtic cavalry approached the Parthians, the Parthian horse archers beat a hasty retreat. The leaden bullets delivered by the slingers were enough to diminish the Parthians’ bloodlust, as they quickly realized that to engage the Celtic cavalry would be costly. The Romans would not see the Parthians for the remainder of the day.

After the enemy had left the field of battle, Antony decided that it would be best to march in a hollow square formation with slingers and javelin-throwers covering his rear and flanks. By doing this, Antony would have short and long-range firepower - protection that was greatly needed, since slingers can outrange archers, and if the horse archers or cataphract made their way through under the hail of projectiles, the javelin-throwers would be able to counter them.

In addition, Antony gave strict orders to his cavalry to rout the enemy horsemen but not to pursue them. Antony was taking every precaution since he was now in a similar situation that Crassus had been in some 20 years earlier.

Two days later, the Parthians returned to harass the Romans. Flavius Gallus asked Antony if he could spare some light-armed infantry from the rear and some cavalry; Antony agreed to the request.

Gallus continued attacking the Parthian cavalry but made a vital mistake. Instead of leading them back towards the legionaries, he pressed on after them. Against Antony’s stern commands, Gallus pursued the enemy and fell right into the Parthian trap.

Antony’s rear guard, seeing that Gallus had followed the enemy so far that he was separated from the main body of Antony’s troops, began to shout in a vain attempt to call him back.

In the ensuing battle, a quaestor by the name of Titus, grabbed hold of the standard, tried to rally the men back and accused Gallus of wasting so many lives. Gallus, in return, accused Titus of questioning his orders, and seeing that his words fell on deaf ears, Titus withdrew back the main body of Antony’s forces, leaving Gallus alone with his men behind.

Gallus, confident that he could take the enemy, continued with the attack, only to become hopelessly surrounded as Parthian cavalry converged on the scene. Sensing his dire predicament, Gallus sent a desperate missive to Canidius, a Roman officer, for aid. Canidius sent a small detachment to help in the effort to free Gallus and his men, but the attempt was futile, resulting only in the decimation of the detachment.

The Romans, who were not acquainted with Parthian tactics, kept sending detachment after detachment to fight the enemy only to lose them. Seeing his army vanish piecemeal, Antony had to halt the Parthian assailment before his forces were destroyed entirely. Eventually Antony deployed the third legion, which was able to break the Parthian momentum during the battle, causing the Parthians to flee.

Even though the Romans were able to break free from the Parthian grip, they sustained heavy losses: 3,000 men dead and another 5,000 wounded including Gallus, who took four fatal arrows to the chest.

Antony was said to have “tears of sympathy in his eyes” as he visited the men who were wounded. The many hurt “seized his hand and exhorted him to go away and take care of himself, and not to be distressed. They called him Imperator, and said that they were safe if only he were unharmed.”

But with another 8,000 men out of action, Antony was still far from safety.

Antony decided that it was best to camp for the night. While the Romans set up temporary defenses, the Parthians celebrated their small victory. They bivouacked not far from the Roman camp and prepared to attack the Roman rear again come daybreak.  As the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon, the Parthians gathered in greater numbers - some 40,000 horsemen along with the king’s royal guard were eager for battle.

As Antony and his men were preparing to move out, Antony asked for a black robe to look more pitiful in their eyes. His friends quickly rejected this, for it was a morbid symbol, and Antony assented to their judgment. Thus, he appeared in front of his troops enrobed in regal purple, a triumphant color that roused his men to fight.

If the Parthians were on their way looking to plunder the Romans, then they were in for a surprise. The Roman forces were fresh and better organized, and when they saw the Parthians charging towards them, they unleashed their projectiles, striking many of the horse archers.

The Parthians were in shock and switched from pillaging mode to battle formations. The Romans were well prepared for the coming fight, and the Parthians scrambled to avoid defeat.

But then the Parthians found an opportunity to turn the tides in their favor.  As the Romans were slowly descending the hills, the Parthians began showering them with arrows. This caused the Romans to wheel around their light-infantry and enclose the Parthians by dropping to one knee, in which they would hold their shields out in front of them.

The second rank then held their shields out over the heads of the first rank and so forth until they had a wall and roof of shields protecting every vantage point. The Romans were in the testudo or tortoise formation.

The Parthians, thinking the Romans were tired, ceased fire and soon dismounted. Tossing their bows aside in favor of a dagger or spear, the Parthians approached the Romans. But once they were close enough, a battle cry went out and the Romans sprang to their feet and easily cut the Parthians to pieces. A lightly armored horse archer was no match for a heavy infantryman, especially in hand-to-hand combat.

It was the Parthians’ turn to realise that it was a trap and so they returned to their horses and rode away.

The testudo formation afforded a platform of success for the Romans, who continued to march in this manner with the baggage, light infantry, and cavalry in the centre of the army. While the testudo provided ample security during their long march home, it could not protect Antony’s forces from famine. “An army marches on its stomach” Napoleon Bonaparte once said, and rightfully so.

One of the drawbacks Antony’s forces faced was that the little grain they did have in possession was useless; they had not the tools for grinding. With food dwindling, the Roman troops resorted to buying and selling within their camp to alleviate their hunger.

Plutarch mentions, “one Attic choenix [about a quart] of wheat brought fifty drachmas; and loaves of barley bread were sold for their weight in silver.”

However, there were soldiers who could not afford wheat or barley and resorted to eating “vegetables and roots, they could find few to which they were accustomed, and were compelled to make trial of some never tasted before.”

The result of this was that if the Parthians did not kill you, hunger would, for many of the men who ate plants unknown to them began to slip into a world of fantasy and madness. Plutarch wrote that those “who ate of it had no memory, and no thought of anything else than the one task of moving or turning every stone, as if he were accomplishing something of great importance.”

These poor souls would be slumbering around with no sense of direction, accept that they would be found, “stooping to the ground and digging around the stones or removing them; and finally they would vomit bile and die, since the only remedy, wine, was not to be had.” The likely herb that caused such pain was the deadly nightshade called Atropa Belladonna.

Conversely, if hunger did not kill you, the Parthians would, as they continued to conduct hit and run attacks on the Romans, causing Antony to cry out, “O the Ten Thousand!” Antony, hoping he could get a break and reach safety like that of Xenophon’s army, found only death.

If anything positive could be gained from Antony’s retreat, it was that the army stood its ground and stayed unified throughout this endeavor. So much so that even the Parthians took notice.

Roman soldiers searching for “fodder or grain,” would be approached by Parthian cavalrymen with bows unstrung, indicating that they were no threat. Many of the Roman soldiers would come back to camp and report their encounter, in which the Parthians informed them that they would be leaving soon, for this, was “the end of their retaliation.”

But even as the Romans moved out, the Medes continued to follow the Romans, though doing so as observers. The Medes would ride ahead to inform the locals of the approaching Roman army and to advise them to be calm, courteous, and respective as the Romans passed through. When the Romans then approached the various villages, the locals engaged them in a friendly manner.

However, such gestures had a deceptive edge. The Medes stayed close to the Roman army to observe their movements, collect intelligence, and even approach them with a friendly attitude, all with the goal to kill them with kindness.

By building up the Romans’ courage, the Medes lulled the Romans into lowering their guard. The facade worked so well that Antony began to consider changing direction and moving his army across the plains, where nomads like the Medes could attack on horseback with fewer obstacles than those in the forest.

The Romans were clearly oblivious to the Medes’ ruse, but salvation came in a man by the name of Mithridates, who happened to be cousin to Monaese, the Parthian noble that once had the ear of Antony. Mithridates informed Alexander, Antony’s friend and translator, and Antony that “the Parthians with all their forces are lying in ambush for you.”

As mentioned, the Parthians and their allied forces hoped that their acts of kindness would cause Antony to change direction and enter into the open plain. Mithridates made it clear to Antony that there was a fork in the road, advising him that it was best to move along the mountains, to avoid the Parthian cavalry, even though it would cause “thirst and hard labor.”

Moreover, Mithridates cautioned Antony: if Antony were to choose the other road and “[proceed] by way of the plains, let him know that the fate of Crassus awaits him.”

Afterwards, Mithridates left and Antony, at the crossroads of a major decision, called for a meeting with his officers and the Mardian guide. While there is much debate, Antony deferred to the Mardian, who agreed with Mithridates’ advice. Spurred into action, Antony ordered his men to carry as much water as they could, since they would soon traverse an area lacking water.

The Parthians watched Antony’s forces carefully. Once the Romans lowered their shields for the night, since the rugged terrain that lay ahead was not favorable to the testudo formation and they did not expect an attack while dark, the Parthians devised their plans against them.

The Romans moved ahead, feeling safe from attack but propelled by thirst, while the Parthians followed. As the sun broke the eastern horizon, many of the Romans were tired, exhausted, and thirsty after marching 30 miles in harsh rugged terrain.

The sight of the Parthians charging towards them from the rear then further demoralized them. It was nothing more than a hit and run attack, but it had a profound impact on the Roman forces which now had to not only locate vital hydration, but also fend off physical attack.

The Parthians knew this and indeed their surprise attack was nothing more than to push the Romans forward to quench their thirst at a nearby river. The Romans further ahead, and away from the engagement, came to the spot; the water looked clear and potable.

Many Romans indulged to relive their dry mouths only to succumb to “pains, cramping of the bowels and an inflammation of one’s thirst”. The reason for the discomfort was due to the water being salty, likely coming from the Caspian Sea.

Pliny mentions that the “running waters near the Caspian Gates for instance, which are known as the ‘Rivers of Salt’. The same is the case, too, in the vicinity of the Mardi and of the people of Armenia.”

Once word reached the soldiers further back that water had been found, there was mad a rush to relieve their pain. The Mardian guide tried to stop the men from drinking the poisonous water, because he, being a Mardi, a people from the area, knew that the stream was poisonous.

But it was no use; many drank and died.

Finally Antony barked a fierce command to cease drinking and wait for water up ahead. He urged his forces to be calm, promising potable water and a respite from the enemy cavalry, who would be unable to attack in the upcoming terrain.

After the ordeal at the river, Antony ordered his men to pitch tents and rest. While Antony himself relaxed, Mithridates, who had advised Antony before, appeared again. He informed Antony’s friend, Alexander, that it was best to rest for a little while, for a river with drinkable water was not far away and once crossed, the Parthian were not likely to pursue.

Alexander quickly relayed the message to Antony, who consented and allowed his men a little rest before making the call to move out. Antony was so pleased with Mithridates’ consistent advice and warnings that he rewarded Mithridates with “golden drinking-cups in great numbers, as well as bowls. Mithridates took as many of these as he could hide in his garments and rode off.”

As the Roman forces, feeling lighthearted in their foretold safety, carried on through the night with carefree spirits, the Parthians fell on them and attacked;

“those who had gold or silver were slain and robbed of it, and the goods were plundered from the beasts of burden; and finally the baggage-carriers of Antony were attacked, and beakers and costly tables were cut to pieces or distributed about.”

Plutarch’s description indicates a well-planned raid. But how did the Parthians know where to attack and that they should conduct a raid in the first place? The mysterious man Mithridates, who was rewarded for his aid with Roman treasures, gave Antony’s forces away. For he was, in fact, a spy collecting intelligence and relaying that information to the Parthians.

While the Parthians pillaged the Roman army of its valuables, shock rippled through the forces and sparked dread and confusion within its ranks.

Even Antony feared that his campaign and life were forfeit, believing that he was about to meet the same fate as Crassus. Preparing for the worst, Antony ordered his body-guard, Rhamnus, to run him through with a sword and to cut off his head. Antony wanted to make sure that if he was defeated, the enemy could not take him alive or recognize him dead.

Once the attack was over, however, realization set in among the Roman ranks. Even though many were wounded and killed, a mere raid did not spell total death and defeat. Antony was tired and his men in tears, but the Mardian gave encouragement not to give up, for the river they sought really was near. Antony, decided at that point that it was best to make camp and regroup before proceeding.

As the sun began to show its face over the eastern horizon, the Romans awoke to a shower of arrows in the rear ranks. Those in the rear jumped to action and formed a testudo formation, a tried and true method against arrow attacks.

Antony ordered the entire army to join the formation and proceeded, little by little, in this fashion until they reached the river. Once in sight, Antony ordered that the sick and wounded should first cross, allowing them to get a drink of water. As the Romans slowly poured across the river undisturbed, the Parthians unstrung their bows and “bade the Romans cross over with good courage, bestowing much praise also upon their valour.”

Six days later, the Romans came to a river Araxes, which served as the boundary between Media and Armenia. Before the Roman forces traversed the river, a report was given that indicated that the Parthians were waiting to ambush the Romans once they crossed.

Antony and his men, however, were drained and had no choice but to cross, for if they sought a different route they faced the possibility of total annihilation. By choosing the unknown fate in front of them, Antony and his men might at least escape the certain terror that lurked behind.

Artavasdes Must Pay!

Once the Romans were across the river, the men began to weep, as great joy and sorrow overcame them, a relief to be alive and sadness for those left behind rotting in the wilderness.

However, another enemy awaited the Romans upon their crossing: disease.

As the Romans continue to push on home through the mountainous districts of Armenia during the harsh winter, many fell ill and died of dysentery and dropsy. Additionally, the wounded were suffering due to the cold temperatures.

Antony, like any general after battle, decided to hold a review of the men, and found that out of 113,000 troops at his disposal, 20,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry had died, excluding the number of wounded. Antony also discovered that more than half of the deaths were caused by disease.

Eventually Antony refused to receive any more reports concerning deaths and illnesses. Though troubled by the blight devastating his men, Antony denied these reports in order to contest the rumors of his men’s sickness and failure inevitably filtering into Rome. For Rome to be privy to such a weakened and defeated image of Antony would injure his political standing, shifting the power struggle between himself and Octavian to favor the latter.

While Antony and his men suffered from exhaustion and starvation, King Phraates commemorated his victory over Antony by issuing coins. One of the coins depicted the capture of Antony and Cleopatra as the spoils of war. Another coin issued shows an eagle crowning the head of Phraates with a wreath.

Meanwhile in Armenia, Antony could not stop thinking about King Artavasdes, the man who he felt had robbed him of victory by fleeing when he was most needed to protect the siege train and supplies. It had been twenty-seven days since they marched from Praaspa, and during that time the Parthians had engaged them eighteen times. And yet, battered and fatigued, Antony’s men wanted to take revenge on Artavasdes.

Antony demonstrated extreme caution and composure as they forged on into Armenian terrain, for his army was weak and in desperate need of provisions.

He then gave the order to halt and encamp, realizing that his men could go on no longer.

Antony had lost another 8,000 men due to the harsh winter and lack of supplies, and at his strength’s and wit’s end, he decided to pay King Artavasdes of Armenia a visit. Though Antony would have rather given the man a tongue-lashing, if not outright kill him, he instead flattered the king and was thus able to procure a temporary amount of money and much-needed supplies for his men.

Moreover, Antony employed lavish promises to persuade Artavasdes to allow his men to stay in Armenia, for he was planning another invasion of Parthia the coming spring.

Afterwards, Antony left Armenia with a small company of men and headed for a place called White Village, which was situated between Berytus and Sidon in Syria. It was there that Antony waited for his beloved Cleopatra, though he soon grew impatient when she failed to arrive immediately. He apparently resorted to drinking and would occasionally rise or spring up to see if she had reached the port.

Once Cleopatra appeared with money and clothes, Antony was thankful. Each Roman soldier was paid “four hundred sesterces” while the rest received “a proportionate allowance.” Antony handed out so much money that he soon ran out and had to dive into his own coffers to pay the men. In order to recoup his losses, Antony solicited funds from his friends while taxing his allies.

While Antony’s men lay in Armenia, he himself returned to the bosom of Cleopatra in Alexandria for a short time. But it was not a blissful retreat; he knew that the Roman Senate was privy to the setback and disaster that had taken place, for as many color-coded dispatches that Antony had sent, just as many rumors speaking the opposite followed.

However, Octavian did nothing to take advantage of Antony’s political humiliation. Though Octavian and others had investigated the matter, he kept the public in the dark, at least for the time being. Indeed, Octavian had other matters at hand, and the information he had on Antony was damning enough to last until the opportune moment to use against him.

While Antony understood the possible repercussions that stemmed from his failed campaign back in Rome, his mind was nevertheless set on exacting revenge on the man who had abandoned him when he was needed most: Artavasdes.

As Antony wintered in Egypt, back in Parthia, the king of the Medes argued over the spoils of war with Phraates. The Median king feared that his disagreement with Phraates might cost him his throne, and therefore did what many have done in the past - he ran to the Romans seeking assistance.

The Median king sent an ambassador named Polemon to seek an alliance with Antony, who was delighted by the news. He accepted and rewarded the ambassador handsomely by giving him the province of Lesser Armenia. Antony now had the horsemen and archers he lacked during the first campaign against Parthia.

Drawing plans similar to those he had with Armenia, Antony prepared to travel a little further east to meet up with his new Median ally, and from Media, they would together cross the Araxes River and push into Parthia for another round of war.

While Antony was preparing for his second Parthian campaign, he summoned Artavasdes to come to Egypt as a friend. Of course, it was a deception. Artavasdes was no fool, at least at first, and ignored Antony’s request. Instead of getting angry, however, Antony sought other ploys to lure Artavasdes to him.

Antony then sent Quintus Dellius to make a deal with the Armenian King. Antony suggested that the daughter of Artavasdes and Antony’s own son Alexander should marry.

Artavasdes smelled deception, however, and decided to ignore Antony no matter how many gifts he would receive due to the marriage proposal.

Finally Antony sent Dellius again to Artavasdes as a diversion while he rushed towards the Armenian capital of Artaxata. Antony’s gamble paid off; he kept the king occupied long enough to storm the palace and take Artavasdes by surprise.

Artavasdes’ advisors pleaded with him to go out and meet Antony, and once done, Artavasdes was immediately taken into custody upon arrival. Antony decided not to place the king in fetters, as he did not want to alarm the public; he understood that to control the situation one must control the crowd.

Besides safeguarding the lives of his men, Antony had other reasons for controlling the public, namely gold and Octavian. Antony ordered Artavasdes to lead him to the forts where he kept his gold, and there Antony is said to have “professed to have arrested him for no other purpose than to levy tribute upon the Armenians for the safeguarding of the king and to maintain his sovereignty.”

Antony not only apprehended King Artavasdes for not protecting the baggage train under the command of Statianus, achieving his long-awaited vengeance, but also to rob the country of its wealth, effectively keeping it out of Octavian’s hands.

Before Antony arrested the king of Armenia, Octavian had been in correspondence with Artavasdes in hopes that they could work together. Octavian had wanted to injure Antony by denying him his triumph and if war between the two were to follow, Octavian needed a powerful military and monetary ally, something that fit Artavasdes’ description.

Antony’s Defeat is Octavian’s Victory

Antony left his army in Armenia and gave a portion of Armenia to the Median king, after which the Mede returned the military standards lost by Statianus and agreed to Antony’s request to betroth Antony’s son Alexander to his own daughter Iotape.

Afterwards, Antony headed back to Egypt to celebrate a triumph. He entered Alexandria to the sound of a cheering crowd as he rode in on a chariot bringing with him Artavasdes, his family, and the wealth of Armenia before Cleopatra, who was among the populace on a silver plated platform sitting upon a gilded chair.

Artavasdes refused to pay homage to Cleopatra before the crowd and was soon after placed in prison.

Even though Antony rode in as a conquering king, he did have one missing link still. He had failed to capture Artaxes, the son of Artavasdes, whom the people of Armenia had elected to be their king. Artaxes had escaped and rode off into Parthia, seeking the help of King Phraates.

Nonetheless, Antony enjoyed his triumph, though it would be short lived. For soon after his grand parade through the streets of Alexandria, Octavian began building his case against Antony.

Once the Second Triumvirate expired in 33 BCE, Octavian went on a propaganda campaign and did everything in his power to convince the Roman people that Antony was an enemy of Rome.

First, he tried to convince the senate that Antony had divided the Eastern Roman territory, a fact undisputed by the Roman people. Octavian provided the evidence that Antony had divided Rome’s territorial holdings, along with titles in the east, among his and Cleopatra’s children, and even gave territory and title to the only child born between Julius Caesar and Cleopatra.

Even though Octavian brought forth charge after charge against Antony, the Senate and the Roman people remained unconvinced.

Therefore, Octavian opted for a different route; he blamed Cleopatra for Rome’s misgivings, due to her dangerous influence on Antony. Octavian sold the Senate hook, line, and sinker that Cleopatra, not Antony, was the real power and that she would use her political prowess to undermine and seize Rome in the future.

The Senate was further inflamed by knowledge that in Antony’s will, which was obtained illegally by Octavian, Antony wanted to be buried beside Cleopatra in Alexandria.

The Senate went wild and agreed to declare war not on Antony but on Cleopatra, which suited Octavian just fine. Indeed, he wanted to publicly avoid civil war, as battle prompted on a fellow countryman appeared unseemly. War declared on Cleopatra, who was not a fellow countryman, however, appeared just and merited. Nevertheless, Antony would join her side, sparking all the results of a civil war with none of the bad image that Octavian and the Senate wanted to avoid.

Meanwhile in Parthia around 32 BCE, King Phraates was following the situation between Antony and Octavian.

Phraates knew that he could not launch an offensive campaign due to the presence of Roman soldiers, and so for the time being stayed on the defensive. But once civil war became a reality, all Phraates had to do was wait for Antony to take the bulk of his forces westward into Asia Minor.

Once the Roman forces were far away enough, Phraates launched a surprise attack along with Artavasdes’ surviving son, Artaxes. The Parthian advance failed as the Median and Roman forces soundly defeated the Parthians.

Not long after, Antony summoned his men from Armenia with exception of a few, and once word reached Phraates that Media was naked, the Parthian king gave the order to attack.

As a result of this battle, Antony would lose his ally, Armenia, and eventually his life after the Battle of Actium in 31 BCE against Octavian.

While Artaxes was exercising his kingly rights by massacring the remaining Roman soldiers in Armenia, Phraates found himself in a bit of trouble. Phraates, long known for his cruelties, caused quite the upheaval in his own empire in which a certain Tiridates II challenged him for the throne, ultimately driving Phraates into exile.

Nothing is known about Tiridates but it’s quite possible that he may have been the general who successfully drove Antony out of Media Atropatene and back into Armenia. Whatever the case be, Tiridates held a considerable amount of power and popular support during a crucial time.

While Phraates was in exile in 30 BCE, the former king was able to gain the service of the Scythians. When word reached Tiridates that Phraates, along with a powerful Scythian force were on their way, a battle was inevitable. It was during this struggle that both men likely felt the balance of power tip against them, which caused them to seek Roman help.

Octavian was in the province of Asia at the time and paid no attention to the two men jousting for throne and empire. Indeed, he was busy dealing with the various subject nations, and one could say that he ignored the request of both men because he wanted the Parthians to exhaust themselves before he considered any deals.

And it appears he was right to do so. Eventually, Tiridates was defeated and he fled to Syria, taking Phraates’ youngest son with him.

Octavian brought the boy and Tiridates before the Senate. Also present were envoys from Phraates, who demanded that Octavian give Phraates his son and Tiridates back. Meanwhile Tiridates tried to persuade Octavian to support him, claiming that he would be Rome’s puppet more or less, if Rome were to restore him to the throne.

Octavian, however, refused both offers, deciding that he would neither give Tiridates over to Phraates nor give any assistance to Tiridates against the Parthians. Instead, he permitted Tiridates to live in Syria.

Octavian understood that so long as he kept Tiridates under his influence, he had an instigator and ally who could disrupt Parthia — a pawn to be used indirectly.

As for the boy, Octavian handed him over to Phraates on the condition that Phraates return the prisoners of war from both Crassus and Antony’s campaigns, along with the standards. Phraates agreed, though it would be awhile before Octavian’s request would be honored.

While Tiridates lived in exile in the province of Roman Syria, he began plotting another attack on Parthia. Then in spring 26 BCE, Tiridates invaded again with success and issued coins of himself with the title Arsaces Philoromaeus or “Arsaces Friend of the Romans.” However, his claim to the throne did not last long, and he was ousted from power. He then fled to Spain where he joined Octavian, now Emperor Augustus.

Tiridates returned in March 25 BCE and coins, made in his image, once again circulated in the city of Seleucia. Though by May of that year, the mint in Seleucia was issuing coins bearing the image of Phraates. Clearly, Phraates was again in full control of Parthia and Tiridates was mentioned no more.

Once this regime change occurred, Octavian planned a campaign against Parthia, but had to postpone it. Octavian, now Augustus, had other issues at hand and another Parthian invasion was mere fantasy.

However, Phraates did not know this, so when he heard of Augustus’ arrival in Syria, he feared another invasion. Knowing full well that his position as king hung by a thread, Phraates quickly met with the Romans to hammer out a deal.

On May 12, 20 BCE, Augustus commissioned Tiberius, the step-son of Octavian, to receive the prisoners and standards from the Parthians, as per their agreement. While gathering Rome’s standards was easy, acquiring the prisoners of war was not. Some of the prisoners agreed to go, others committed suicide due to shame, and still others, who decided not to go nor commit suicide, decided to disappear within the cracks of Parthian society.

Augustus waited eagerly in Syria for Tiberius to return to him, and once back with the souls and the standards, Augustus celebrated his triumph. Phraates was also required to cease his claim on Armenia and to give five of his sons over as hostages in an act of good faith.

Phraates agreed to Augustus’ terms and there was peace between the two superpowers.

Before Augustus set sail for Rome, he gave Tiberius another order: to accompany Tigranes, Artaxes’ brother, to Armenia and place him on the throne. In fact, the people of Armenia were fine with Tigranes’ ascension for they were tired of Artaxes and found no issue with Tigranes, who had been in Rome. Indeed, by the time the Romans entered Armenia, Artaxes had already been slain by his own people.

Once Tigranes took his throne with the aid of Roman support, he soon fell under the influence of the Parthians, evidenced by his coins bearing Parthian titles.

As both parties returned to their respective capitals, Augustus acted as if he had conquered the Parthians, declaring, “that he had recovered without a struggle what had formerly been lost in battle.”

Augustus rode into Rome on horseback and was awarded a Triumphal arch, a monument that had been commissioned in light of Octavian’s success against Parthia. Soon afterwards, Augustus gave the order for sacrifices to be made and that the standards were to be placed in the temple of Mars Ultor on Capitol.

As for Phraates, he too would receive a gift. Augustus, around the same time he received the prisoners and standards, gave a concubine by the name of Muse or Thermusa to Phraates. Phraates grew to love her and thereafter made her his legitimate wife. She would bear a son for Phraates by the name of Phraataces. Musa had so much influence over Phraates that she even persuaded him to send his other sons to Rome as a show of fidelity. Once Phraates’ other sons were removed from Parthia, Phraataces murdered his father with the help of his mother in 2 BCE.

Figure of Phraates III

Figure of Octavius

Figure of Lepidus

Figure of Mark Antony

Figure of Artavazdes

Figure of Phraataces

Figure of Augustus

Conclusion

What started as a peaceful meeting in 92 BCE between two cultures curious about one another ended violently in 217 CE. When one reads about the wars between Rome and Parthia, one must note an important distinction: It was not Rome that went to war with Parthia, but rather, certain Roman personalities who went to war with Parthia, starting with Crassus and ending with Caracalla.

Not every Roman leader desired to battle with their powerful neighbor. Only when the West was secured did emperors long for expansion eastward to seek glory and riches. To rid the world of equals who were unwilling to become subservient was tantalizing, to say the least. Moreover, war was the engine of the state and had the potential to be quite profitable.

Those who attempted to conquer Parthia underestimated the enemy multiple times, all in hopes that they could imitate their hero Alexander the Great, to gain incremental victories and nothing more. The various generals and emperors sought glory and riches but remained ignorant of the people they sought to subjugate.

There was no strategy in how to conquer them, and if there was, those emperors who led campaigns had neither the means nor the ability to implement their goals fully.

Rome also had no tangential border with Parthia. They had many client states to help buffer them from Parthian invasions for some time, but the Romans had no line or specific frontier that truly fixed their position. Indeed, the idea of such a thing was an illusion, for the emperor could do as he pleased, but when it came to Parthia, even he was limited.

While some emperors were successful in dealing with Parthia’s military, they were never fruitful in expanding Roman borders, only their ability to invade deeper into Parthian territory. Trajan was the first to conquer Mesopotamia, but Rome’s possession of the region was lost after his death when Hadrian became emperor.

It set a precedent, however, that allowed future emperors to conduct similar campaigns with little fear of their adversaries.

With time, even control of Mesopotamia became problematic for the emperors. While Rome’s leaders had the ability to trample Mesopotamia under, they could not go further than their ability allowed. Unrest in the newly conquered region was one of many reasons why Rome could not hold the region effectively, along with plague, overtaxed legions, insufficient resources, and the sheer cost of war.

Roman emperors were smart enough to know that they could not use their legions on a grand scale, for they could not afford to lose them. In this sense the Romans were just as limited when it came to military campaigning as the Parthians. The only difference was that Rome could go on just that little bit longer.

If the Roman emperors were successful in anything, it was in looting the Parthian treasure at Ctesiphon. They soon realized that to keep them in check, it was best to plunder, rather than conquer them, but even this led to blowback, especially when Caracalla died in 217 CE.

The costs of maintaining security across Mesopotamia, never mind the dream of controlling the Iranian Plateau and the rich trade routes that flowed through the territory, was just too unrealistic for the Romans. It was easier to rob the Parthian treasury, especially when the money back in Rome was running low or inflating due to debasement of the coinage, thus replenishing their coffers with fresh money of higher value.

The same goes for the Parthian kings. Even though the Euphrates represented the border between the two powers in theory, it was just an illusion. Parthian kings, especially during the 50-30s BCE, took advantage of the intangible frontier and expanded their influence to the south in Judea and to the west into Anatolia before retreating into their dominion. They, unlike Rome, were not centralized and had no standing army.

The Parthian grand strategy was defensive. While in Rome the best defense is a good offense, Parthia had no such ability, at least over the long term. As mentioned, Parthia had no standing army, but a militia, and relied primarily on the satraps to raise forces when in need.

Moreover, Parthia, unlike Rome, was not a centralized state, and if they committed the bulk of their forces to the west, they ran the risk of rebellions rising within Parthia or foreign invasion.

Furthermore, they did not have the means to supply the men day in and day out. The militia had homes and families to attend. Therefore, military service was temporary and protracted military campaigns were out of the question.

Lastly, it should be made clear that even though Rome was aggressive, so was Parthia. It takes two to tango, after all. While Rome fired the first shots by marching into Parthian territory, Parthia retaliated, which is expected, but also brought the war into Roman-held territory from 50-30s BCE.

In addition, both sides, at times, played a game of proxy war. Thus, they were equally guilty of perpetuating further and future wars to come when there was no need whatsoever. Peace and trade would have been far easier and less costly.

In the end, with Parthia gone, Rome’s war in the east continued. A new power would emerge due to the vacuum Rome created. This power, unlike Parthia, was a centralized, leviathanic reflection of Rome. They were the Sassanids.