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De Re Militari | Book Reviews

Gareth C. Sampson

The Defeat of Rome in the East: Crassus, the Parthians, and the Disastrous Battle of Carrhae, 53 BC

Pennsylvania: Casemate Publishing, 2008. 224pp. £19.99 / US$ 32.95. ISBN 1844156761.

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.

 

Lee Ruddin

Roundup Editor, History News Network <[email protected]>

Page Added: September 2009