Neither Christopher Kelly’s The
Roman Empire (2006), a concise pamphlet published by Oxford University
Press as part of their ‘Very Short Introductions’ series,
nor Battles BC (2008), an 8-part a series by the History Channel,
contain any information on Crassus at Carrhae.
The History Channel’s
earlier 13-part series, Decisive Battles of the Ancient World (2006),
features an episode on the Battle of Carrhae and
a much earlier tome published by Oxford University
Press, Ronald Syme’s The
Roman Revolution (1939), recounts the history of Rome under the triumvirs.
That said, there is no single study on Crassus at Carrhae.
Enter Gareth C. Simpson: author of The
Defeat of Rome in the East: Crassus, the Parthians, and the Disastrous
Battle of Carrhae, 53BC (2008), who acknowledges in his introduction: “Up
until now, this area has been largely neglected.” (xvi)—all
the more amazing since the Battle of Carrhae comes in at number 25 in William Weir’s 50
Battles That Changed the World: The Conflicts That Most Influenced the
Course of History (2001).
In 53 BC, Marcus Crassus, the richest
member of Rome’s ruling Triumvirate, invaded the Parthian Empire.
He needed a quick victory to increase his political power back home against
Caesar and Pompey. But Crassus’ glittering dream had become a Roman
nightmare—an annus horribilis. At least 20,000 Roman
legionaries were dead on the field, 10,000 captured and made into slaves.
His seven legions were no more; their seven eagle standards had been captured.
There was no greater dishonor.
Rome had always prided herself on
her military superiority over the barbarians, but
on the dusty plains of Carrhae she had finally met her match. “In just one afternoon’s
fighting,” Simpson writes in the introduction, “the myth of
Roman invincibility had been shattered and the seemingly inexorable spread
of the Roman empire across the ancient world was halted forever.” (xv)
From civilisations on the “periphery
of the civilised Graeco-Persian world” (35) to the “two superpowers
of the age”
(xv), the story of Rome and Parthia is one of the greatest
of the ancient world. And Simpson’s telling of such a story is founded
on three Rs: resemblance, reevaluation and repercussions.
Simpson sets the scene for this “momentous
clash” (xvi) by charting Rome’s rise to prominence in chapter
one (3-31) and recounting how Parthia filled the vacuum left by the collapse
of the old Hellenistic order in chapter two (32-55). Indeed this is the
tale of ‘The Rise of Two Empires’ section (1-80): Rome’s
rise in the west mirrored by Parthia’s rise in the east.
Yet this is not the only plot on display.
There is a subplot involving some resemblance and, more specifically,
a resemblance between pax Romana and pax Americana
in Mesopotamia—or at least that is what this reviewer interprets
it as bearing in mind the ageless words spoken by
Francis Haverfield.[[1]] But how
can one not make this connection with talk of “pre-emptive strikes” (13)
and
“homeland security” (20) as well as “an abject lesson
in the dangers of a state attempting to police the world in the name of
internal security and bringing ‘liberation’ to other peoples”?
(17) [2[2]]
However, this does not mean that such
a narrative is without weaknesses. Simpson’s instinctive need to
interpret ancient politics in familiar modern terms could be an obstacle
to his understanding of the “clash.” Billing the Battle of
Carrhae as like Samuel Huntington’s
“clash of ancient civilisations” (168) may be stretching it
given that Anthony Pagden’s critically acclaimed Worlds at War:
The 2,500-Year Struggle between East and West (2008) does not discuss
Crassus at Carrhae and refers to the Parthians only fleetingly.
Nevertheless, I digress.
In the third and final chapter of
section one (56-80), Simpson begins to look beyond
the “clichés” (56)
and “stereotypes”
(57) that “perpetuate the blackening of Crassus’ reputation” (169)
to offer a reevaluation of the man. To that end the author rigorously surveys
the surviving sources at his disposal. Rest assured no stone goes unturned.
For instance, unlike Plutarch, Simpson, in chapter five (94-113), does
not “pass over the winter of 54 BC” in his “haste to
reach the events of 53 BC” (103) when Crassus demonstrated his skill
in the “arts of war” during the first year’s campaigning
(174)
From his “telling contribution” in
the victory at Colline Gate in 82 BC (60), “turning potential defeat
into a war-clinching victory” (62), to ending the “menace
of the slave army” in 71 BC who “had looked capable of attacking
Rome itself and was a threat to the Republic’s very existence,” the
reader is reminded of what a “superb battlefield general”
Crassus was (67). The only problem was Crassus’ counterpart, Surenas,
was an equally brilliant, if not superior, tactician
in the mould of Hannibal or Mithridates of Pontus (174).
Analysing the respective armies and assessing
their strengths and weaknesses, chapter six, understandably, is the longest
installment of the volume (114-147). It is in section two, ‘The War’ (81-181),
where Simpson excels when he challenges the (Western) notion that the
Battle of Carrhae was a Roman loss rather than a Parthian victory.
Considering the reader is no doubt
already aware of “how truly unique a Parthian force” Crassus’ testudo encountered
(121), what with 9,000 horse archers armed with armour-penetrating
arrows supported by a “camel train” laden with additional arrows
allowing for “mobile re-arming” (128), the author does an
admirable job of maintaining a battle narrative that is gripping.
The loss of Crassus’ head at Carrhae is of great significance
to history. It did more than cost the Roman Republic
a general. It led to the outbreak of the Second Civil War and the ultimate
collapse of the Republic.
In the eighth and final chapter (169-181),
Simpson highlights the repercussions of Carrhae and
the very public display of Roman failure—Crassus’ captured legionary eagle being the
most famous—which led Augustus to formally acknowledge the limits
of the empire in the East. But the author does not
stop there. As with the preceding seven chapters, Simpson chronicles all
actors, foreign as well as domestic, to great effect.
The four plain but practical maps,
eight elementary but essential illustrations, and
24 colourless but central photographs, not to mention the four simple but
scholarly appendices, round off what is an accessible and cogently written
book with minor publishing errors (24, 73, 98 & 111). The Defeat of Rome in the East is
an invaluable addition to the literature field and one sure to enjoy a
long shelf life in both municipal and university libraries alike.
Notes
[1] “Roman history seems to me at the present
day the most instructive of all histories…it offers stimulating
contrasts and comparisons.”
An Inaugural Address Delivered before the First Annual
General Meeting of the Society for the Promotion of Roman
Studies, 11 May, 1911.
[2] “Ancient conflict is ‘warning’ for ‘War
in Iraq’,”
University of Manchester news, 19th March, 2008, http://www.manchester.ac.uk/aboutus/news/archive/list/item/?id=3509&year=2008&month=03.