Plutarch · a new plain-English translation from the original language
It is perhaps not a marvel that, over infinite time, as fortune flows now this way and now that, chance should often bring about the same occurrences by mere coincidence. For either the number of underlying things is not fixed, in which case fortune has an inexhaustible abundance of material from which to furnish resemblances among the results, or else affairs are woven together out of some fixed number of elements, and then the same things must often come about, being brought to pass through the same causes.
Since, however, some people take pleasure in collecting instances of this sort from history and hearsay - cases where events that happened by chance resemble the works of calculation and forethought - as, for example, that there were two men named Attis who became famous, one a Syrian and the other an Arcadian, and each of them perished by a boar; and that there were two men named Actaeon, one torn apart by his own dogs, the other by his lovers; and two men named Scipio, the first inflicting an initial defeat on Carthage, the second later crushing it entirely,
and that Troy fell once to Heracles, over the matter of Laomedon's horses, once to Agamemnon through the device known as the 'wooden horse,' and a third time by Charidemus, when a certain horse stumbled into the gates and the Trojans were unable to shut them quickly; and that there were two cities bearing the same names as the sweetest-smelling plants, Ios and Smyrna, in the one of which they say the poet Homer was born, and in the other of which he died,
come, let us add this too to their collection: that the most warlike generals, and those who achieved the most by pairing cunning with skill, were missing an eye - namely Philip, Antigonus, Hannibal, and this treatise's own subject, Sertorius, whom one might declare more temperate than Philip in matters concerning women, more faithful than Antigonus toward his friends, and gentler than Hannibal toward his enemies,
though inferior to none of these in intelligence, yet inferior to all of them in fortune - a fortune he handled, though it treated him far more harshly in every respect than his open enemies did, in such a way that he made himself the equal of Metellus in experience, of Pompey in daring, of Sulla in fortune, and of the Romans in power, though he was an exile and a foreign commander opposing a barbarian people.
To this man especially, among the Greeks, we liken Eumenes of Cardia; for both were natural commanders and skilled in waging war through cunning, and both were driven from their own countries yet led foreigners, and both met with a violent and unjust fortune at their end - for both, having been plotted against by the very men alongside whom they had conquered their enemies, were destroyed by those same men.
Quintus Sertorius was of no undistinguished lineage, in the city of Nursia among the Sabines; and being brought up decorously by a widowed mother, having lost his father, he seems to have become extraordinarily devoted to his mother - they say her name was Rhea. He had trained himself sufficiently in pleading cases at law, and while still a youth he acquired a certain influence in the city through his oratory; but his brilliance and successes in military matters transferred his ambition to that sphere instead.
First, then, when the Cimbri and Teutones had invaded Gaul, he was serving as a soldier under Caepio, and when the Romans fought badly and a rout occurred, he lost his horse and, though wounded all over his body, swam across the Rhone, keeping both his breastplate and his shield, against a strong opposing current; so robust was his body and so trained by exercise.
Second, when the same enemies were advancing with many tens of thousands and terrible threats, so that it was then a great feat for a Roman soldier merely to stay in formation and obey his commander, Marius was the leader, and Sertorius undertook to spy on the enemy; disguising himself in Celtic dress and picking up enough of the commonest expressions of their language for occasional intercourse, he mingled among the barbarians. Learning some things by sight and others by hearsay of what was urgent, he returned to Marius.
On that occasion he received the prize for valor; and in the rest of the campaign, having displayed many deeds of intelligence and daring, he was advanced by the commander to renown and trust. Once the war with the Cimbri and Teutones had ended, the commander Didius dispatched him to Iberia as a military tribune, and wintered in the city of Castulo among the Celtiberians.
But when the soldiers, amid plenty, grew insolent and were mostly drunk, the barbarians, holding them in contempt, sent by night for aid from the neighboring Oretani, and going house to house they began killing them; Sertorius, slipping out with a few men and gathering those who escaped, went around the city in a circle. And finding, at the gates by which the barbarians had secretly slipped in, that these had been left open, he did not suffer the same fate as those others, but posting guards and seizing control of the city on every side, he killed all who were of military age.
When they had been killed, he ordered all the soldiers to lay aside their own arms and clothing, and to follow, arrayed in the equipment of the barbarians, toward that city from which those who had fallen upon them by night had been sent. Deceiving the barbarians by the appearance of the arms, he found the gates open and took a great number of people who supposed they were coming out to meet friends and fellow citizens who had fared well. For this reason most were slaughtered by the Romans near the gates, and the rest, surrendering themselves, were sold into slavery.
From this exploit Sertorius became famous throughout Iberia; and on his first return to Rome, he was given the quaestorship of Gaul-around-the-Po, at an opportune moment. For when the Marsic War was being organized, he was charged with levying soldiers and manufacturing arms, and by bringing zeal and speed to the task, in contrast to the slowness and softness of the other young men, he gained the reputation of a man who would live an active life.
Nor indeed did he relax his soldierly daring once he had advanced to the rank of commander, but continuing to display marvelous feats of his hand and giving his body unsparingly to the contests, he lost one of his eyes, gouged out. Over this he continued always to take a certain pride. For while other men do not always carry about the tokens of their valor, but lay aside their collars and spears and crowns, in his case the marks of his manly courage remained with him permanently, providing the same onlookers a spectacle both of his virtue and of his misfortune at once.
The people, too, paid him fitting honor. For when he entered the theater, they received him with applause and acclamation, an honor not easy even for those who had far surpassed him in age and reputation to obtain. Yet in seeking the tribunate of the people he was defeated through the factional opposition of Sulla; and it is on this account, it seems, that he became a hater of Sulla.
But when Marius, defeated by Sulla, fled, and Sulla set out to make war on Mithridates, and of the consuls Octavius remained loyal to Sulla's policy while Cinna, seeking revolution, sought to revive the faltering faction of Marius, Sertorius attached himself to this latter man, especially since he saw that Octavius was rather dull and distrustful of the friends of Marius.
When a great battle occurred between the consuls in the forum, Octavius prevailed, and Cinna and Sertorius, having lost not much fewer than ten thousand men, fled; but by winning over most of the armies still scattered about Italy, mostly through persuasion, they quickly became a match in strength for the party of Octavius.
When Marius sailed in from Libya and offered himself to Cinna, the consul, as a private citizen, the others thought he should be received, but Sertorius spoke against it, either because he supposed Cinna would pay him less heed with a more commanding man present, or because he feared the harshness of Marius, lest, in a temper without measure, he throw everything into confusion, going beyond justice once he had gained the upper hand,
for he said that the work remaining to them, now that they were already winning, was small, whereas if they received Marius, he would carry off the whole of the glory and the power for himself, being a man difficult to share command with and untrustworthy. And when Cinna said that Sertorius reasoned rightly in this, but that he himself felt shame and was at a loss how he might repel Marius, having himself called him to a share in affairs, Sertorius took up the matter
and said: "But I, supposing that Marius had come to Italy of his own accord, was considering what was advantageous; whereas for you it was not even proper to deliberate in the first place, once the man you yourself had asked to come had arrived, but rather to make use of him and receive him, since good faith allows no room for calculation." Thus Cinna sent for Marius, and the forces, divided into three parts, were commanded by the three men.
When the war had been fought through, and the men around Cinna and Marius were glutted with every kind of insolence and bitterness, so that they made the evils of the war seem golden (i.e. preferable) to the Romans, Sertorius alone, it is said, neither killed anyone out of anger nor committed outrage while in a position of power, but was displeased with Marius, and, meeting Cinna privately, begged him to act with more moderation.
Finally, as for the slaves whom Marius had made strong and rich by using them as allies in the war and as bodyguards for his tyranny - some of it granted and ordered by him, some the slaves committing lawless outrages against their own masters by force, slaughtering them, forcing themselves upon their mistresses, and violating their children - Sertorius, finding this intolerable, shot down with javelins all of them encamped together in one place, no fewer than four thousand.
When Marius died and Cinna was killed a little later, and the young Marius took the consulship against the laws and against his own father's wish, while Carbo and Norbanus and the Scipios waged war badly against the advancing Sulla, and affairs were ruined partly by the cowardice and softness of the generals, and partly destroyed by those who betrayed them,
there was no task left for Sertorius to perform, present as he was amid affairs that were being wretchedly mismanaged because those with greater power had the worse judgment. Finally, Sulla, encamping beside Scipio and treating him with friendliness, as though peace were about to come, corrupted his army; and though Sertorius foretold this to Scipio and instructed him, he could not persuade him. Having utterly despaired of the city, he set out for Iberia, thinking that if he could secure control there ahead of events, it would serve as a refuge for his friends who stumbled here.
Encountering harsh storms in mountainous regions, he was made to pay tolls and fees to the barbarians for passage along the road. His companions were indignant, complaining bitterly that a Roman proconsul should be paying tolls to destructive barbarians; but he cared little how it looked, saying that he was buying time, and nothing is a rarer commodity for a man reaching after great things; so he appeased the barbarians with money and, hastening on, took possession of Iberia.
Taking over peoples flourishing in numbers and in the age of their men, but badly disposed toward the whole Roman rule on account of the greed and insolence of the governors sent to them each time, he won over the powerful among them by association and the many by remission of tribute, and he was especially beloved for freeing them from the billeting of troops in their homes; for he compelled the soldiers to pitch their winter quarters in the suburbs, being himself the first
to encamp in this fashion. Yet he did not make everything depend on the goodwill of the barbarians, but arming those of the Romans settled there who were of military age, and setting in motion the construction of engines of every kind and the building of triremes, he kept the cities firmly in hand, being mild in matters of peaceful use but appearing formidable in his preparations against enemies.
Once word reached him that Sulla now held Rome in his grip and that the Marian-Carban faction lay in ruins, and expecting that an army under some commander would soon come to make war against him, he immediately fortified the Pyrenees mountains through Julius Salinator, who had six thousand hoplites; and not long after, Gaius Annius, sent out by Sulla, seeing that Julius was unassailable, sat idle at a loss beneath the foothills.
But a man named Calpurnius, nicknamed Lanarius, murdered Julius by treachery, and once the soldiers had abandoned the Pyrenean heights, Annius made the crossing and pushed forward with a sizable force, sweeping aside whoever stood in his path. Sertorius, not being a match for him, fled with three thousand men to New Carthage, and from there, boarding ships and crossing the sea, he put in at Libya, in the region of Mauretania.
When the barbarians fell upon his soldiers while they were drawing water unguarded, he lost many men and sailed again for Iberia; from this he was repelled, and when Cilician pirates joined him, he attacked the island of Pityussa and landed there, forcing his way past the garrison of Annius. Not long after, Annius arrived with many ships and five thousand hoplites, against whom Sertorius attempted a sea battle, though he used light vessels built for speed and not for strength,
and when a bright west wind rose over the sea and cast most of Sertorius's ships, owing to their lightness, sideways into the breakers, he himself, with a handful of ships, blocked off on the seaward side by the storm and on the landward side by his foes, held out in misery for ten days, tossing against the opposing waves and rough surge.
When the wind died down, he was carried along and put in at certain scattered, waterless islands; and setting out from there and crossing the Strait of Gades, he touched land on the outer coast of Iberia, keeping it on his right, a little above the mouths of the Baetis, which, emptying into the Atlantic sea, gave its name to the Iberia around it.
There some sailors met him who had just sailed back from the Atlantic Islands, which are two in number, separated from each other by a quite narrow strait, and lie ten thousand stades from Libya; they are called the Isles of the Blessed. They receive moderate rains only rarely, and for the most part gentle, dew-bearing winds, so that they not only provide good and rich soil for ploughing and planting, but also bear of themselves fruit sufficient in abundance and sweetness to feed a leisured people without toil or labor.
A mild climate, owing to the blending of the seasons and the moderation of their changes, holds these islands in its grip; for the north and east winds that blow off the mainland there, having traveled so great a distance, scatter and dissipate before reaching the vast expanse, while the sea-winds that circle round, the westerlies and southwesterlies, bring in from the sea light and scattered rains, and for the most part, with moist clear weather, cool and nourish the land gently, so that even the native tribes have come to firmly believe this is the very Elysian Field and dwelling-place of the blessed sung of by Homer.
On hearing this, Sertorius was seized with a wondrous longing to settle those islands and to live in peace, freed from tyranny and unceasing wars. But the Cilicians, perceiving this, wanted no part of peace and leisure, but rather of wealth and plunder, and sailed off to Libya instead, meaning to put Ascalis, Iphtha's son, back on the Mauretanian throne.
Sertorius, however, did not give up, but resolved to help those warring against Ascalis, so that his own men, taking up some new beginning of hope and a foundation for other undertakings, might not be dissolved by want; and coming to the Mauretanians, who gladly received him, he set to work, and overpowering Ascalis, laid siege to him.
When Sulla sent Paccianus with a force to help Ascalis, Sertorius joined battle, killed Paccianus, and having defeated his army won it over to himself; and he stormed Tingis, into which Ascalis had fled together with his brothers. There, the Libyans say, Antaeus lies buried; and Sertorius dug open his tomb, distrusting the barbarians on account of its great size, but on coming upon the body, sixty cubits in length as they say, he was astonished, and after offering a sacrifice, filled in the grave again, and increased the honor and fame paid to him.
The people of Tingis tell the story that after Antaeus died, his wife Tinga came together with Heracles, and that their son Sophax thereby gained the kingship of that land and gave his mother's name to a city; further, that Sophax fathered a son, Diodorus, and that under this Diodorus a great many Libyan peoples came to be ruled, owing to a Greek force of Olbians and Mycenaeans whom Heracles had once settled in that territory.
But let this be set down to the credit of Juba, the most learned in history of all kings; for they say his ancestors are descended from Diodorus and from Sophax. Sertorius, having become master of everything, did no wrong to those who had appealed to him and trusted him, but restored to them their money, their cities, and their government, keeping only what he was given fairly, from those willing to give it.
From there, while he was deliberating where next to turn, the Lusitanians sent envoys inviting him to take command, entirely in need of a leader of great reputation and experience against the fear they had of the Romans, and putting their trust in him alone, since they had learned what sort of man he was from those who had served under him.
It is said of Sertorius that he was not easily overcome either by pleasure or by fear, being by nature undismayed in the face of dangers and moderate in bearing good fortune; and in open, straightforward fighting he was no less bold than any commander of his time, but in whatever deeds of war called for stealth, and for gaining advantage in strongholds and river-crossings requiring speed, and deception and falsehood where needed, he was the most formidable of contrivers.
In rewarding acts of valor he showed himself generous, but in punishing wrongs he was moderate — though it is thought that toward the end of his life the deed he carried out concerning the hostages revealed, through its cruelty and bitterness, a nature that was not gentle at all, but had merely been cloaked over by calculation out of necessity.
As for myself, I do not think that virtue which is genuine and founded upon reason could ever be turned by any stroke of fortune to its opposite; but it is not impossible that good dispositions and natures, wronged undeservedly by great misfortunes, might, along with their fortune, undergo some change of character as well. And this, I think, is what happened to Sertorius, once his fortune began to fail him, growing harsher under the pressure of events as they turned bad against those who wronged him.
Be that as it may, at that time, when the Lusitanians called him, he set out from Libya, and immediately organized them, being appointed commander with full powers, and brought the nearby part of Iberia under his control, most of the peoples joining him willingly, chiefly because of his gentleness and energy, though in some cases he himself contrived, with cunning, deceptions and enchantments to win them over. And first of all among these was the affair of the doe. It was as follows.
A Spanish man, one of those living off the land, came upon a doe that had just given birth, fleeing from hunters; he was left behind by the mother, but, struck by the strangeness of its color — for it was entirely white — he chased and caught the fawn. By chance Sertorius was then encamped in that region, and he gladly received whatever anyone brought him as a gift from hunting or farming, and repaid those who served him kindly; so the man brought the fawn and presented it to him.
Sertorius, receiving it, was pleased at first only moderately; but in time, having tamed it so completely and made it so gentle that it would come when called, and follow him wherever he walked, and endure all the crowding and noise of the camp, he began little by little to make it a thing of wonder, declaring the doe to be a gift of Artemis, and attributing to it the revealing of many hidden things, knowing that the barbarian nature is by nature easily led into superstition. And he further contrived devices of this sort.
Whenever he learned secretly that the enemy had made an incursion somewhere into the territory under him, or that some city was in revolt, he would pretend that the doe had spoken with him in his sleep, bidding him to have his forces ready; and again, on hearing of some victory of one of his own generals, he would hide the messenger, and lead forward the doe wearing a garland in honor of the good news, urging all to take heart and offer sacrifice to the gods, as men on the verge of hearing welcome news.
Having made them tame in this way, he used them for all purposes as more tractable, since they were persuaded they were being led not by the reasoning of a foreign man, but by a god, while events themselves also bore witness, as his power grew beyond all reasonable expectation.
With a mere twenty-six hundred troops he styled Romans, together with seven hundred assorted Libyans who had crossed over into Lusitania with him, and after adding four thousand Lusitanian light-armed troops and seven hundred cavalry, he made war against four Roman generals, under whom were one hundred and twenty thousand infantry, six thousand cavalry, two thousand archers and slingers, and cities beyond counting, while he himself possessed at the start only twenty in all.
Yet nevertheless, having begun so weak and so small, he not only overcame great nations and captured many cities, but also, among his opposing generals, defeated Cotta in a naval battle in the strait near Mellaria; and he routed Fufidius, the governor of Baetica, near the Baetis river, killing two thousand Romans; and he overcame, through his quaestor, Lucius Domitius, proconsul of the other Iberia, and Thoranius,
another commander sent by Metellus with a force, he killed; and Metellus himself, a man then reckoned among the greatest and most esteemed of the Romans, he entangled in no few reverses, reducing him to such straits that Lucius Manlius had to come from Gaul near Narbo to assist him, and Pompey the Great had to be sent in haste from Rome with an army.
For Metellus had no resource against a man who dared to avoid every open battle, and shifted every kind of change with the light-armed mobility of the Iberian army — Metellus himself being a man trained in set combats fought by heavy infantry, and a general of a solid, unmoving phalanx, well disciplined to push back and cut down enemies who came to close quarters, but unable to scale mountains, to be bound up in endless pursuits and flights against men swift as the wind, and to endure hunger and a diet without fire or shelter, as those men could.
Moreover, Metellus himself was already older, and had, from many great struggles, given way somewhat to a relaxed and even luxurious way of living, while against him stood Sertorius, full of vigor at its peak, and possessed of a body wonderfully fitted out with strength, speed, and simplicity of habit.
For he never touched drunkenness even in his idle hours, and he had trained himself to bear great toils, long marches, and continuous wakefulness on little and plain food, and by constantly roaming and hunting whenever he had leisure, fleeing every encirclement and pursuing every escape, he had gained a thorough knowledge of both impassable and passable ground. Hence it happened that whoever was kept from battle suffered what men suffer when defeated, while he, even in fleeing, had the advantage of the pursuer.
For he would cut off their water supply and block their foraging; when they advanced he was out of the way, but he would stir when they had settled; when one force was besieging others, he would appear and besiege them in turn through want of necessities, so that the soldiers grew weary of it all, and once Sertorius issued his challenge for Metellus to meet him in single combat, they took up the cry demanding commander face commander and Roman face Roman, mocking Metellus for holding back.
But Metellus rightly laughed off such taunts; for, as Theophrastus put it, a commander's death should befit a commander, not some ordinary skirmisher. But seeing that the Langobrigae were giving no small aid to Sertorius, and were easily overcome through thirst — for they had only one well within the city, and the enemy besieging them was about to gain control of the springs in the suburbs and along the walls — he came against the city, expecting to bring the siege to an end within two days, since there was no water. For this reason the soldiers had been instructed to bring provisions for only five days.
Sertorius, hastening swiftly to their aid, ordered two thousand wineskins filled with water, setting a considerable price on each skin. And when many Iberians and many Mauretanians undertook the task, he chose out men who were strong and swift of foot as well, and sent them through the mountains, ordering that, once they had delivered the skins to those in the city, they should lead out the useless crowd, so that the drinking water might suffice for those who remained to defend it.
When this became known to Metellus, he was already troubled, since his soldiers' provisions had been consumed, and he sent out Aquinus with six thousand men to gather grain. But Sertorius, perceiving this, and having laid an ambush along the road, raised up three thousand men from a shaded ravine against Aquinus as he was returning, while he himself charged from the front and routed him, killing some and taking others alive. Metellus received Aquinus back, stripped of his arms and having lost his horse, and departed in disgrace, mocked greatly by the Iberians.
For these reasons Sertorius was admired and beloved among the barbarians, and also because, by imposing Roman weapons, formations, and watchwords, taking away the frenzied and beast-like quality of their fighting spirit, he turned his force from a great band of brigands into an army,
and further, using silver and gold without stint, he adorned their helmets and decorated their shields with varied patterns, and by getting them accustomed to flowered cloaks and tunics, paying for such finery himself and joining in their pleasure at fine things, he courted popularity as a leader of the people. Yet what won him the deepest attachment was his handling of their sons; he brought the best-born boys from every tribe together at Osca, a great city, and placed them under instructors versed in Greek and Roman learning — in effect holding them hostage, though in word he was educating them, as men who, once grown, would be given a share in citizenship and office.
Their fathers were wonderfully delighted to see their sons, dressed in purple-bordered robes, going most decorously to their schools, and to see Sertorius paying the fees for them himself, and often taking note of their examinations, distributing prizes to those who deserved them, and giving them the golden neck-ornaments which the Romans call bullae.
There being an Iberian custom that men chosen to guard a commander were bound to perish alongside him should he fall, a practice the local tribes called a 'libation' — while other commanders had only a few of their attendants and companions bound by this custom, Sertorius was followed by many tens of thousands of men who had pledged themselves in this way.
It is said that once, at some city, when a rout occurred and the enemy pressed hard, the Iberians, disregarding their own safety, lifted Sertorius up onto their shoulders, passing him from one man to another, to bring him to safety at the walls, and only once their commander was in safety did each of them then turn to flight for himself.
He was longed for not only by the Iberians, but also by those serving from Italy. For instance, when Perpenna Vento, from the same faction as Sertorius, arrived in Iberia with much money and a great force, and had resolved to wage war against Metellus on his own and independently, the soldiers took this badly, and Sertorius's name kept coming up all through the camp in conversation, irritating Perpenna, who was swollen with pride at his noble lineage and riches.
Nevertheless, once news arrived that Pompey was making his way across the Pyrenees, the troops seized their weapons, grabbed up their units' standards, and shouted Perpenna down, demanding that he lead them to join Sertorius; and they threatened that, should he refuse, they would desert him and make their own way to a man capable both of saving himself and of saving them. Perpenna yielded, led them there, and united with Sertorius, bringing fifty-three cohorts.
Sertorius, now that virtually all the peoples on this side of the river Ebro had joined him, had grown great in numbers -- for men kept streaming in and gathering to him from every side -- but, troubled by their barbarian lack of discipline and their rashness, when they shouted to attack the enemy and chafed at the delay, he tried to calm them with words,
but when he saw them growing angry and pressing forward out of season, he let them go and allowed them to close with the enemy, in cases where they were not utterly crushed but only took blows, hoping that they would be more obedient for the rest. And when things turned out as he had guessed, he came to their aid, rallied them as they fled, and brought them safely back to camp.
Wishing also to lift their sagging spirits, a few days later he called together a general assembly and brought forward two horses, one utterly weak and already aged, the other massive and powerful, its tail striking for how thick and lovely the hair upon it was. Beside the feeble horse stood a large and powerful man, and beside the strong one a smaller man, contemptible in appearance. When the signal was given them, the strong man took the horse's tail in both hands and pulled at it with force, as if to tear it off, while the feeble man plucked out the strong horse's hairs one at a time.
When the strong man, after giving himself much useless trouble and providing great laughter for the onlookers, gave up, while the feeble man in no time and with no effort at all showed the tail stripped bare of hair, Sertorius stood up and said, "You see, allies, that persistence accomplishes more than force, and that many things unconquerable all at once yield to what is done little by little."
"For unremitting effort is invincible: time, advancing against every kind of power, overtakes and wears it down, being a kindly ally to those who receive its opportunity with calculation, but a most hostile enemy to those who press matters out of season." With such consolations, forever woven anew, Sertorius nursed along the barbarians and managed the passage of time.
Nothing among his feats of war was admired more than what he did concerning the people called the Characitani. These are a tribe beyond the river Tagonius, dwelling not in cities or villages but on a hill of great size and height, containing caves and hollows in the rocks that face north, while all the land lying beneath it gives off a clayey mud and earth so loose and crumbly that it cannot bear the weight of those who walk upon it, and once lightly stirred, spreads far and wide like unslaked lime or ash.
Now the barbarians, whenever fear of war drove them down into the caves, gathering their plunder inside with them, would remain undisturbed, being unassailable by force; and when Sertorius at that time had separated from Metellus and had encamped by the hill, they looked down on him as though he had been defeated. Whether out of anger, or wishing not to seem to be fleeing, he rode up at daybreak and reconnoitered the place.
Finding no point of approach anywhere, and merely wandering about and uttering empty threats, he saw a great cloud of dust from that ground being carried up above them by the wind. For the caves face north, as I said, and the wind blowing from the north -- some call it the Caecias -- prevails there most and is the most frequent of the winds in that region, gathering itself together out of the moist plains and the snow-covered mountains. At that time, though it was the height of summer, it blew strong and, nourished by the release of the frosts in the arctic regions, blew most pleasantly and held steady, cooling both the people and their livestock through the day.
Reckoning on this, and hearing the same from the local inhabitants, Sertorius ordered his soldiers to scrape up that loose, ash-like earth and carry it over, piling it into a mound opposite the hill -- which the barbarians, suspecting it to be the construction of a siege-work against them, mocked.
For that day, then, he had the soldiers work at it until nightfall and then led them away; but at daybreak, first a gentle breeze blew before the rest, stirring up the finest of the heaped earth and scattering it like chaff, and then, as the Caecias grew strong and poured toward the sun and the hills were filled with dust, the soldiers set to and turned over the heap to its depth and struck at the mound, and some even drove their horses up and down through it, raising the loose earth and giving it over to the wind aloft,
and the wind, catching up everything that was broken and stirred aloft, drove it against the dwellings of the barbarians, who received the Caecias in through their doorways; and they, since the caves had but this one vent through which the wind fell upon them, quickly had their eyes darkened and quickly were filled with choking breathlessness, drawing in a harsh air thick mixed with much dust.
So, having barely held out for two days, on the third they surrendered themselves, adding to Sertorius not so much strength as reputation, as one who had subdued by cunning what could not be taken by arms.
Now as long as he was warring against Metellus and his men, he seemed to prosper in most things, since Metellus, through age and a natural slowness, could not match a man of daring who commanded a force more like that of a brigand than of a regular soldier. But when he encamped opposite Pompey, who had crossed the Pyrenees, and, giving and at the same time receiving every trial of strategic wrestling, matching craft with craft and standing on guard, gained the greater share, his fame spread all the way to Rome, as being the most formidable at the conduct of war among the generals of that time.
For Pompey's glory was not small, but was then flourishing most of all on account of his deeds of valor under Sulla, for which he had been named Magnus, that is, the Great, by Sulla himself, and had obtained the honors of a triumph before he had even grown a beard. Hence many of the cities under Sertorius, looking to Pompey, felt an impulse to change sides; but then they stopped, when the affair at Lauro turned out contrary to all expectation.
For while Sertorius was besieging them, Pompey came with his whole army to bring aid; and then the one hurried to seize beforehand a hill that seemed well placed against the city, and the other hurried to prevent this. Sertorius arrived first, and Pompey, halting his army, was pleased at the encounter, thinking that Sertorius was now caught between the city and his own army, and he sent word to the people of Lauro bidding them take heart and sit down along the walls to watch Sertorius under siege.
But Sertorius, on hearing this, laughed, and said that he would teach Sulla's pupil -- for so he mockingly called Pompey -- that a general ought to look behind him rather than in front. So saying, at the same moment he showed the besieged six thousand hoplites he had left behind on his former camp, from which he had set out to seize the hill, so that when Pompey turned to face them, they might fall upon his rear.
Pompey, realizing this all too late, did not dare to attack, fearing to be surrounded, yet was ashamed to abandon men in danger; and though present and stationed there, he was forced to watch them being destroyed, for the barbarians gave themselves up for lost and surrendered to Sertorius.
Sertorius spared their persons and released them all, but burned the city -- driven neither by rage nor by cruelty, since this man appears to have mastered his temper better than any other commander, but rather to shame and humiliate those who had admired Pompey, so that a tale would circulate among the barbarians of how Pompey, though stationed nearby and virtually warming himself at his allies' own fire, failed to come to their aid,
Now defeats came more frequently to Sertorius' side, though he himself and the troops directly under him were always kept unbeaten, while it was around his other commanders that things broke down; yet from the way he set right these defeats he was admired all the more, even when his opposing generals were winning -- as in the battle at Sucro against Pompey, and again in the one at Turia against him together with Metellus.
The battle at Sucro is said to have come about because Pompey pressed for it in haste, so that Metellus should not share in the victory. Sertorius, for his part, wished to fight it out with Pompey before Metellus could arrive, and, leading his men out when evening was already at hand, joined battle, thinking that the darkness would work against the enemy, who were strangers and unfamiliar with the terrain, hindering them both in flight and in pursuit.
When the battle came to close quarters, it happened that he himself was not engaged against Pompey but against Afranius, at first stationed against Afranius who held the left wing, while he himself was posted on the right; but when he heard that the troops opposing Pompey, who was pressing hard, were giving way and being overpowered, he entrusted his right wing to other officers and himself ran to the aid of that beaten wing.
Rallying those who were already turning to flight and those who still stood in formation, and putting heart into them, he charged afresh against Pompey as he pursued, and put him utterly to flight, at which time Pompey, coming close to death and being wounded, escaped against all likelihood. For the Libyans with Sertorius, when they took hold of his horse, adorned with gold and covered with costly trappings, in the process of dividing it up and quarreling with one another over it, let the pursuit go.
Afranius, turning back those who had opposed him at the same time that Sertorius departed to bring aid on the other side, drove them into their camp; and bursting in along with them he began to plunder, night having already fallen, knowing nothing of Pompey's flight and unable to restrain his soldiers from pillaging. Meanwhile Sertorius returned, having won his own part of the battle, and falling upon Afranius' men, thrown into confusion by their lack of discipline, destroyed many of them.
But in the early morning, arming again, he came down for battle; then, perceiving that Metellus was near, he broke off the formation and withdrew, saying, "This lad here -- had that old woman not been standing by, I would have given him a beating to remember and packed him off to Rome."
He was terribly downcast because that hind of his was nowhere to be seen; for he had been deprived of a marvelous device against the barbarians, who at that very time were most in need of comfort. But then, some men wandering about by night for other reasons happened upon her, and, recognizing her by her color, caught her.
When Sertorius heard of it, he agreed to hand over a hefty sum of money on condition that they keep silent, and, hiding the hind away, after letting a few days pass, he came forth to the tribunal looking very cheerful, telling the barbarian chiefs that some great good was being foretold to him by the god in his sleep; then, mounting the tribunal, he began to give audience to those who came to him.
The hind, released nearby by those who kept her, and catching sight of Sertorius, ran joyfully to the tribunal, and standing beside him laid her head upon his knees and touched his right hand with her mouth, as she had been accustomed to do before. Sertorius, returning her affection convincingly and even shedding a tear, at first struck those present with amazement, then, with clapping and shouting, they escorted Sertorius home as a man beloved of the gods and touched by the divine, and were filled with good cheer and bright hopes.
Having penned the enemy into the utmost straits on the plains of the Segontini, he was forced to engage them as they came down for plunder and to forage for grain. The fighting was brilliant on both sides, and Memmius, the most capable of the generals under Pompey, fell in the fiercest part of the battle, while Sertorius prevailed and, with great slaughter of those still standing together, pressed on toward Metellus himself.
Metellus, standing his ground beyond what his years allowed and fighting conspicuously, was struck by a spear. This filled the Romans, both those who saw it and those who heard of it, with shame at abandoning their commander, and at the same time with anger against the enemy. Setting their shields before them and charging forward together with vigor, they drove back the Iberians;
and the victory having thus been reversed, Sertorius, contriving safe means of flight for his men and scheming to gather another force to himself at leisure, fled for refuge into a mountain city, strong by nature, and there barred the walls and fortified the gates, intending to endure anything rather than a siege -- but in fact he was deceiving the enemy:
for they, sitting down before that place and expecting to take it without difficulty, let the fleeing barbarians go and paid no heed to the force that was again gathering for Sertorius. It was being gathered because he had sent commanders to the cities under him, bidding them, once they had a large number of men, to send a messenger to him.
When they were sent out, he broke through the enemy without any trouble and joined his own men; and again he came on strong and cut them off, blocking their supply from the land by ambushes and encirclements and swift attacks everywhere, and blocking their supply from the sea by pirate craft holding the coastline, so that the generals were forced to separate, one withdrawing to Gaul, while Pompey wintered miserably among the Vaccaei for lack of money, writing to the senate that he would lead his army back to Italy if they did not send him silver, for he had already spent his own fortune fighting on Italy's behalf.
And there was much talk of this in Rome, that Sertorius would arrive in Italy before Pompey — to such a degree had Sertorius's formidable skill set him above the foremost and most powerful generals of the time.
Metellus too showed that he was struck with fear of the man and considered him great, for he proclaimed that whichever Roman killed him would receive from him a hundred talents of silver together with twenty thousand plethra of land; and if the slayer happened to be an exile, he would grant that man return to Rome — as though, despairing of open resistance, he were purchasing the man's death through treachery.
Moreover, having once defeated Sertorius in battle, he was so elated and so pleased with his good fortune that he was proclaimed imperator, and the cities, as he visited them, received him with sacrifices and altars. It is said that he even accepted the placing of wreaths on his head and the hosting of rather pompous banquets, at which he drank wearing triumphal dress, and figures of Victory made by mechanical devices came down bearing golden trophies and crowns, and choruses of boys and women sang victory hymns to him.
For which he rightly became a laughingstock, since he, having branded Sertorius a fugitive bondsman of Sulla's and a leftover scrap from Carbo's rout, was all the same so swollen with pride and delight simply at having gotten the man to retreat. Of Sertorius's greatness of mind, the first proof was this: that he proclaimed the senators who had fled from Rome and were spending their time with him a senate,
and from among them appointed quaestors and praetors, and adorned all such matters with the ancestral laws; and next, that though he had at his disposal the weapons, money, and cities of the Iberians, he never yielded to them, not even in word, the supreme authority, but rather set Romans over them as generals and magistrates — as one winning back liberty for the Romans, not increasing those peoples' power against Rome.
For he was indeed a man devoted to his country and possessed of a great longing to return, but in adversity he acted with courage and did nothing base toward his enemies, while at the height of his victories he sent messages to Metellus and Pompey saying he was prepared to disarm and settle back into ordinary citizen life if his return home could be secured — for he said he would rather be the most obscure citizen in Rome than, in exile from his own land, be proclaimed supreme commander over all the rest combined.
And it is said that he desired his country not least on account of his mother, having been raised as an orphan by her and being wholly devoted to her; and when his friends in Iberia called him to command, on learning of his mother's death he came close, from grief, to giving up his life. For seven days he lay there giving out no watchword, and none of his companions caught even a glimpse of him; only by gathering around his tent did his fellow commanders and equals manage, with difficulty, to compel him to emerge, face the soldiers, and resume direction of matters that were faring well.
For this reason many thought he was a man naturally gentle and reasonably inclined to quiet, who was against his own judgment forced by circumstance into positions of military command, and that, not being granted safety, but driven by his enemies to take up arms, he wrapped war around himself as a necessary guard for his own body.
His dealings with Mithridates too showed greatness of mind. For when Mithridates, rising again from his defeat under Sulla as if for a second bout, once more made an attempt on Asia, and Sertorius's fame was already great and traveled everywhere, and those sailing from the west had filled the Pontus with talk of him as if with foreign cargo,
Mithridates set out to send envoys to him, spurred on above all by the boastful flatteries of those who, comparing Sertorius to Hannibal and Mithridates to Pyrrhus, said the Romans could not withstand natures and powers so great being brought against them from two sides at once, now that the most formidable of generals had joined with the greatest of kings.
So Mithridates sends envoys to Iberia bearing letters and proposals to Sertorius, by which he himself promised to supply money and ships for the war, while he asked that in return Sertorius should confirm to him the whole of Asia, which he had ceded to the Romans under the treaty made with Sulla.
When Sertorius had assembled his council, which he called the senate, and while the others urged him to accept the proposals and be content — since Mithridates was asking only for a name and an empty document concerning things not actually in their power, while in return they would receive what they most needed — Sertorius would not consent; instead he said he raised no objection to Mithridates's claiming Bithynia and Cappadocia, since these were kingdoms under royal rule with no connection to Rome,
but as for the province which the Romans had acquired by the most just method, and which he himself, warring, had lost through Fimbria, and which he had given up in making terms with Sulla — this he said he would not permit to fall again under Mithridates's power. For it was necessary that Rome be increased under his own rule, not diminished by another gaining mastery over what was hers; for a noble man ought to choose to conquer along with honor, but not even to be saved through shame.
When this was reported to him, Mithridates was struck with astonishment, and it is said he said to his friends: 'What orders, then, will Sertorius give, sitting on the Palatine, if now, thrust out to the Atlantic sea, he sets boundaries on our kingdom and threatens us with war when we merely attempt Asia?'
Nevertheless, a treaty and oaths are made: Mithridates to have Cappadocia and Bithynia; Sertorius to send him a general along with soldiers; and in exchange Sertorius would obtain from Mithridates forty ships together with three thousand talents.
And there is sent as general into Asia by Sertorius, from among those senators who had fled to him, Marcus Marius, alongside whom Mithridates, after helping him take some cities of Asia, himself followed as Marius rode in with rods and axes, having willingly taken up a secondary rank and the posture of an attendant.
Marius freed some cities and, granting others exemption from tribute by writing that it was a favor of Sertorius, proclaimed it, so that Asia, once again troubled by the tax farmers and burdened by the greed and arrogance of the officers quartered on them, was roused to hope and longed for the change of government that was expected.
But in Iberia, among the senators and men of equal rank around Sertorius, once they had first arrived at a hope of matching his power and their fear of him had relaxed, envy and a foolish jealousy of his power took hold; and Perpenna, puffed up on account of his noble birth with an empty pride, incited them toward seizing command, and secretly spread wicked talk among his intimates:
'What evil spirit has taken us up and is carrying us from bad to worse, we who, when Sulla ruled nearly the whole earth and sea, did not think it right to do as we were bid while staying at home, but now, having been driven here to live as free men, we willingly serve as bodyguard to the exile of Sertorius, bearing the name — mocked by all who hear it — of a senate, while enduring insults and orders and labors no less than those of the Iberians and Lusitanians?'
Filled with such talk, most of them did not openly break away, fearing his power, but secretly they undermined his actions, and mistreated the barbarians, punishing them harshly and levying tribute on them, as though by Sertorius's orders. From this came revolts and disturbances among the cities,
and those sent to soothe and calm these matters came back having stirred up more wars and increased the disobedience that already existed, so that Sertorius, changing from his former fairness and gentleness, acted lawlessly against the boys of the Iberians being raised at Osca, killing some and selling others.
Perpenna, then, having won over a good number of sworn conspirators for the attack, brought in Manlius, one of those holding command; this man was in love with a certain youth in the bloom of his age, and being affectionate toward him, told him of the plot, bidding him set aside his other lovers and devote himself only to Manlius, since greatness awaited him within just a few days' time. But the youth, being more attached to another of his lovers, Aufidius, reported the matter to him.
When Aufidius heard it he was struck with alarm, for he himself was party to the conspiracy against Sertorius, though he did not know that Manlius was involved — only Perpenna and Graecinus and certain others whom he himself knew to be fellow conspirators — and when the youth named him, he was thrown into confusion; toward the youth he made light of the story and urged him to despise Manlius as an empty boaster, but he himself went to Perpenna and, telling him of the urgency of the moment and the danger, urged him to act.
They were persuaded, and having prepared a man carrying letters, brought him to Sertorius. The letters announced that one of his generals had won a victory in which the enemy suffered heavy losses; overjoyed at this, Sertorius offered sacrifice for the good tidings, Perpenna promised him and the friends present — these being members of the conspiracy — a feast, and by much urging persuaded him to come.
Now dinners with Sertorius always had great decorum and order, for he tolerated seeing or hearing nothing shameful, but accustomed those in his company to use orderly and unabusive jesting and friendliness; but on that occasion, in the middle of the drinking, seeking an opening for a quarrel, they openly used indecent words, and, pretending drunkenness, behaved licentiously as if to provoke him,
and he, whether displeased at the disorder, or having read their purpose in how brazen their speech had grown and how unusually little regard they showed, shifted his position on the couch, lying back, as though neither paying attention nor listening. But when Perpenna, taking up a cup of unmixed wine, let it fall from his hands while drinking and made a noise — which was their signal — Antonius, reclining above him, strikes Sertorius with his sword.
When Sertorius turned toward the blow and tried to rise, Antonius fell upon his chest and pinned both his hands, so that, unable even to defend himself, he died under the blows of many.
Most of the Iberians at once went away and, sending envoys, surrendered themselves to Pompey and Metellus; but Perpenna, taking charge of those who remained with him, attempted to accomplish something. Making use of Sertorius's preparations only so far as to disgrace himself and reveal that he was by nature fit neither to rule nor to be ruled, he joined battle with Pompey,
and, having been swiftly overwhelmed by him and captured, he failed even to face his last misfortune the way a commander should, but, having become master of Sertorius's papers, promised to show Pompey the autograph letters of men of consular rank and of the greatest power in Rome, inviting Sertorius into Italy, as though many were eager to overturn the present state of affairs and change the constitution.
Pompey, then, performed a deed not of a young mind but of one well settled and thoroughly disciplined, and freed Rome from great fears and revolutionary upheavals; for he gathered together all those letters and the papers of Sertorius and burned them, neither reading them himself nor allowing anyone else to; and he had Perpenna himself put to death at once, fearing that if the names were made public, revolts and disturbances might arise among certain people.
Of those who had joined Perpenna's conspiracy, some were brought before Pompey and executed, while others escaped to Libya only to be cut down by Moorish javelins. None escaped except Aufidius, the rival lover of Manlius: he, either escaping notice or being overlooked, grew old in some barbarian village, poor and hated.