Plutarch: Lives of the noble Grecians and Romans
speedily, he should be forced to return into Italy with his
army. Lucullus being consul at that time, though at variance
with Pompey, yet in consideration that he himself was a
candidate for the command against Mithridates, procured and
hastened these supplies, fearing lest there should be any
presence or occasion given to Pompey of returning home, who of
himself was no less desirous of leaving Sertorius, and of
undertaking the war against Mithridates, as an enterprise which
by all appearance would prove much more honorable and not so
dangerous. In the meantime Sertorius died, being
treacherously murdered by some of his own party; and Perpenna,
the chief among them, took the command, and attempted to carry
on the same enterprises with Sertorius, having indeed the same
forces and the same means, only wanting the same skill and
conduct in the use of them. Pompey therefore marched directly
against, Perpenna, and finding him acting merely at random in
his affairs, had a decoy ready for him, and sent out a
detachment of ten cohorts into the level country with orders to
range up and down and disperse themselves abroad. The bait
took accordingly, and no sooner had Perpenna turned upon the
prey and had them in chase, but Pompey appeared suddenly with
all his army and joining battle, gave him a total overthrow.
Most of his officers were slain in the field, and he himself
being brought prisoner to Pompey, was by his order put to
death. Neither was Pompey guilty in this of ingratitude or
unmindfulness of what had occurred in Sicily, which some have
laid to his charge, but was guided by a high minded policy and
a deliberate counsel for the security of his country. For
Perpenna, having in his custody all Sertorius's papers, offered
to produce several letters from the greatest men in Rome, who,
desirous of a change and subversion of the government, had
invited Sertorius into Italy. And Pompey, fearing that these
might be the occasion of worse wars than those which were now
ended, thought it advisable to put Perpenna to death, and burnt
the letters without reading them.
Pompey continued in Spain after this so long a time as was
necessary for the suppression of all the greatest disorders in
the province; and after moderating and allaying the more
violent heats of affairs there, returned with his army into
Italy, where he arrived, as chance would have it, in the height
of the servile war. Accordingly, upon his arrival, Crassus,
the commander in that war, at some hazard precipitated a
battle, in which he had great success, and slew upon the place
twelve thousand three hundred of the insurgents. Nor yet was
he so quick, but that fortune reserved to Pompey some share of
honor in the success of this war, for five thousand of those
that had escaped out of the battle fell into his hands; and
when he had totally cut them off, he wrote to the senate, that
Crassus had overthrown the slaves in battle, but that he had
plucked up the whole war by the roots. And it was agreeable to
the people in Rome both thus to say, and thus to hear said,
because of the general favor of Pompey. But of the Spanish war
and the conquest of Sertorius, no one, even in jest, could have
ascribed the honor to anyone else. Nevertheless, all this
high respect for him, and this desire to see him come home,
were not unmixed with apprehensions and suspicions that he
might perhaps not disband his army, but take his way by the
force of arms and a supreme command to the seat of Sylla. And
so in the number of all those that ran out to meet him and
congratulate his return, as many went out of fear as affection.
But after Pompey had removed this alarm, by declaring
beforehand that he would discharge the army after his triumph,
those that envied him could now only complain that he affected
popularity, courting the common people more than the nobility,
and that whereas Sylla had abolished the tribuneship of the
people, he designed to gratify the people by restoring that
office, which was indeed the fact. For there was not any one
thing that the people of Rome were more wildly eager for, or
more passionately desired, than the restoration of that office,
insomuch that Pompey thought himself extremely fortunate in
this opportunity, despairing (if he were anticipated by
someone else in this) of ever meeting with any other sufficient
means of expressing his gratitude for the favors which he had
received from the people.
Though a second triumph was decreed him, and he was declared
consul, yet all these honors did not seem so great an evidence
of his power and glory, as the ascendant which he had over
Crassus; for he, the wealthiest among all the statesmen of his
time, and the most eloquent and greatest too, who had looked
down on Pompey himself, and on all others as beneath him, durst
not appear a candidate for the consulship before he had applied
to Pompey. The request was made accordingly, and was eagerly
embraced by Pompey, who had long sought an occasion to oblige
him in some friendly office; so that he solicited for Crassus,
and entreated the people heartily, declaring, that their favor
would be no less to him in choosing Crassus his colleague, than
in making himself consul. Yet for all this, when they were
created consuls, they were always at variance, and opposing one
another. Crassus prevailed most in the senate, and Pompey's
power was no less with the people, he having restored to them
the office of tribune, and having allowed the courts of
judicature to be transferred back to the knights by a new law.
He himself in person, too, afforded them a most grateful
spectacle, when he appeared and craved his discharge from the
military service. For it is an ancient custom among the
Romans, that the knights, when they had served out their legal
time in the wars, should lead their horses into the
market-place before the two officers, called censors, and
having given an account of the commanders and generals under
whom they served, as also of the places and actions of their
service, should be discharged, every man with honor or
disgrace, according to his deserts. There were then sitting in
state upon the bench two censors, Gellius and Lentulus,
inspecting the knights, who were passing by in muster before
them, when Pompey was seen coming down into the forum, with all
the ensigns of a consul, but leading his horse in his hand.
When he came up, he bade his lictors make way for him, and so
he led his horse to the bench; the people being all this while
in a sort of amaze, and all in silence, and the censors
themselves regarding the sight with a mixture of respect and
gratification. Then the senior censor examined him: "Pompeius
Magnus, I demand of you whether you have served the full time
in the wars that is prescribed by the law?" "Yes," replied
Pompey with a loud voice, "I have served all, and all under
myself as general." The people hearing this gave a great
shout, and made such an outcry for delight, that there was no
appeasing it; and the censors rising from their judgment-seat,
accompanied him home to gratify the multitude, who followed
after, clapping their hands and shouting.
Pompey's consulship was now expiring, and yet his difference
with Crassus increasing, when one Caius Aurelius, a knight, a
man who had declined public business all his lifetime, mounted
the hustings, and addressed himself in an oration to the
assembly, declaring that Jupiter had appeared to him in a
dream, commanding him to tell the consuls, that they should not
give up office until they were friends. After this was said,
Pompey stood silent, but Crassus took him by the hand, and
spoke in this manner: "I do not think, fellow-citizens, that I
shall do anything mean or dishonorable, in yielding first to
Pompey, whom you were pleased to ennoble with the title of
Great, when as yet he scarce had a hair on his face; and
granted the honor of two triumphs, before he had a place in the
senate." Hereupon they were reconciled and laid down their
office. Crassus resumed the manner of life which he had always
pursued before; but Pompey in the great generality of causes
for judgment declined appearing on either side, and by degrees
withdrew himself totally from the forum, showing himself but
seldom in public; and whenever he did, it was with a great
train after him. Neither was it easy to meet or visit him
without a crowd of people about him; he was most pleased to
make his appearance before large numbers at once, as though he
wished to maintain in this way his state and majesty, and as if
he held himself bound to preserve his dignity from contact with
the addresses and conversation of common people. And life in
the robe of peace is only too apt to lower the reputation of
men that have grown great by arms, who naturally find
difficulty in adapting themselves to the habits of civil
equality. They expect to be treated as the first in the city,
even as they were in the camp; and on the other hand, men who
in war were nobody, think it intolerable if in the city at any
rate they are not to take the lead. And so, when a warrior
renowned for victories and triumphs shall turn advocate and
appear among them in the forum, they endeavor their utmost to
obscure and depress him; whereas, if he gives up any
pretensions here and retires, they will maintain his military
honor and authority beyond the reach of envy. Events
themselves not long after showed the truth of this.
The power of the pirates first commenced in Cilicia, having in
truth but a precarious and obscure beginning, but gained life
and boldness afterwards in the wars of Mithridates, where they
hired themselves out, and took employment in the king's
service. Afterwards, whilst the Romans were embroiled in their
civil wars, being engaged against one another even before the
very gates of Rome, the seas lay waste and unguarded, and by
degrees enticed and drew them on not only to seize upon and
spoil the merchants and ships upon the seas, but also to lay
waste the islands and seaport towns. So that now there
embarked with these pirates men of wealth and noble birth and
superior abilities, as if it had been a natural occupation to
gain distinction in. They had divers arsenals, or piratic
harbors, as likewise watch towers and beacons, all along the
sea-coast; and fleets were here received that were well manned
with the finest mariners, and well served with the expertest
pilots, and composed of swift sailing and light-built vessels
adapted for their special purpose. Nor was it merely their
being thus formidable that excited indignation; they were even
more odious for their ostentation than they were feared for
their force. Their ships had gilded masts at their stems; the
sails woven of purple, and the oars plated with silver, as if
their delight were to glory in their iniquity. There was
nothing but music and dancing, banqueting and revels, all along
the shore. Officers in command were taken prisoners, and
cities put under contribution, to the reproach and dishonor of
the Roman supremacy. There were of these corsairs above one
thousand sail, and they had taken no less than four hundred
cities, committing sacrilege upon the temples of the gods, and
enriching themselves with the spoils of many never violated
before, such as were those of Claros, Didyma, and Samothrace;
and the temple of the Earth in Hermione, and that of
Aesculapius in Epidaurus, those of Neptune at the Isthmus, at
Taenarus, and at Calauria; those of Apollo at Actium and
Leucas, and those of Juno, in Samos, at Argos, and at Lacinium.
They themselves offered strange sacrifices upon Mount Olympus,
and performed certain secret rites or religious mysteries,
among which those of Mithras have been preserved to our own