CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH.

THE THIRD MITHRIDATIC WAR. DEPOSITION AND DEATH OF
MITHRIDATES.

While Pompey had been busy in punishing the pirates, Rome had something to fear from another quarter; for Mithridates had been everywhere beating up for recruits to beat down the Commonwealth. He was extremely rich, and had an army of 150,000 men; for the trade of war is unhappily one of those in which there is never any lack of hands ready to wage war, when their wages can be relied upon.

Bithynia was one of the first objects of the attack of Mithridates, who was opposed by the Consul, M. Cotta; but the place was burned to the ground, and the ashes of poor Cotta were found in the condition of terra cotta among the ruins. Lucullus, the colleague of Cotta, was sent into Asia with a great army, which attacked Mithridates with such effect, that the king only saved his own life by emptying his pockets of all the money he had about him, and making a scramble of it among the hostile soldiers. The mercenaries, in fighting with each other for the loose silver, forgot to make sure of the sovereign. Mithridates fled to his son-in-law Tigranes, who, having named the metropolis Tigranocerta, after himself, had established himself as King of Armenia. Lucullus proceeded across the Tigris, and required that Mithridates should be given up; but Tigranes, looking at his venerable though determined father-in-law, referred the legate for an answer to the old gentleman. The King of Pontus answered by requesting that the enemy would come and take him, which the Romans were actually about to do, when Mithridates and Tigranes thought it safer to run for their lives; Tigranes ingloriously taking his crown from his head, and putting it in his pocket, to avoid being recognised.

The treasury of Tigranocerta, with a surplus of two millions sterling, fell into the hands of the Romans, who seized on the spoil, and who had become so independent by their temporary wealth, that they criticised, approved, and abused or disobeyed, when and why they pleased, the orders of their general.

Mithridates, taking advantage of this state of things, collected a numerous army, and fell wherever he could upon the Roman garrisons. On one occasion he approached so near the enemy as to be within a stone's throw, and as they happened to be throwing stones, he received one on the knee; while an arrow, fixing itself under the eye, at once opened it to the full extent of his danger. He soon recovered from the effect of his wounds, and was ready by the ensuing spring to attack C. Triarius, when a Roman soldier, disguised as a native, pretended to whisper something in the ear of Mithridates, at the same time giving him a most unfriendly poke in the ribs with a concealed weapon. The King was so unprepared for the wound that he fainted right away, and his troops were so taken up in catching him, that they forgot to catch the foe, who were suffered to escape, though they might otherwise have been easily seized upon. Mithridates, having come to, expressed his anger at the carelessness of his officers, and, notwithstanding his wound and his age, he would have attempted the pursuit—under difficulties—of the enemy. The next morning he renewed the attack on Triarius, and cut to pieces 7000 men; an operation, however, which seems almost too extensive for even the scissors of Fate, and we cannot help regarding it, therefore, as a sheer invention of the graver historians.

Pompey was now sent to supersede Lucullus in the command; a measure that had become doubly necessary, for Lucullus had not only failed as a leader, but his soldiers were daily refusing to follow him. When his troops approached within a short distance of Mithridates, they seemed more inclined to engage with him in a friendly than in a hostile sense, for many of them joined his forces. Soon after the arrival of Pompey, a battle was fought by night on the banks of the Euphrates. The moon, being near its setting, had lengthened the reflection cast by the Roman troops, and the soldiers of Mithridates, mistaking the reflection for the substance, began fighting most energetically with mere shadows. Every missile, thrown apparently into the midst of the Romans, was as ineffective as a miss, and the soldiers of Mithridates believing the foe to be invulnerable, fled in a state of panic. The King himself fought valiantly at the head of his body-guard; a corps which counted among its members his own wife, who, in the arms of a man, committed fearful havoc upon the Roman soldiery. Notwithstanding the powerful assistance of this strong-minded and able-bodied woman, Mithridates was compelled to fly, though he made extensive arrangements for renewing the war on the first favourable opportunity. This opportunity seems never to have arrived, or, if it came, it was lost by the treachery and cowardice of his son Pharnaces, who persuaded the soldiers that his father was an old fool to think of fighting with the Romans. Several of the principal officers took the same view of the subject, and joined in a conspiracy to depose the King, for the purpose of setting up Pharnaces as his substitute.

Mithridates was in bed one morning, when, woke by a considerable shouting under his window, he heard the words, "Pharnaces is king!" and sent to know the meaning of such an outcry. The answer was unsatisfactory, when the veteran, mounting his charger, made a speech on horseback, which nobody listened to. His son gave orders that he should be seized, when the old man, putting spurs to his horse, galloped up a hill, which for a man in the decline of life, who had been going down hill rather rapidly, was a bold and hazardous experiment. From the eminence he had gained, he saw the depth to which he had fallen; for he witnessed the coronation of his son Pharnaces, amidst the acclamations of the army. The poor old man was so affected at the sight, that he took from a fold in his dress a deadly drug, which, in anticipation of an alarming self-sacrifice, he always carried about with him. He was about to take off the mixture, when his two daughters, who were standing at his side, entreated the privilege of a drink at the deadly decoction. For some time he hesitated; but he was at length touched by their looks of mute entreaty at the fatal liquid. Dividing the contents of the bottle into three parts, he gave a dose to each of his daughters, reserving a dose for himself; and on a signal from the old gentleman, the two young ladies swallowed the nauseous stuff they had so earnestly solicited.

Mithridates, his rash act. Mithridates, his rash act.

The poison took effect at once upon the females; but their father experienced only a disagreeable taste, without the deadly result he had looked for. Though too much for two, it was not enough for three, and the poor old man tottered about in a state of nausea, unattended with danger. Having been previously tired of existence, he was now thoroughly sick of it, and turning to a loyal servant at his side, he requested that he might immediately be put out of his misery. The faithful fellow, making a compromise between his morality and his duty, turned away his eyes, and held out the point of his sword, when Mithridates, coming speedily to the point, fell on the outstretched weapon.

Thus ended the Mithridatic War, as well as Mithridates himself; and his cowardly son Pharnaces sent in his adhesion to Pompey, acknowledging, in a spirit of humility and subservience to Rome, that he only held his kingdom at the pleasure of the Senate.

Mithridates. Mithridates.

The character of Mithridates has been drawn by so many different delineators, that his portrait, as taken by the historians, presents a daub in which it is difficult to recognise the true features. So many skilful artists have been employed upon the task, that we hesitate in submitting Mithridates to a fresh canvassing at our hands; nor are we desirous of using the pencil, as some have done, for the purpose of imparting additional blackness. Some of those who have taken the sketch in hand, have thrown in the shadows with a ten-pound brush, while others have clothed him in several coats and overcoats of varnish, for the purpose of glossing over the defects of his character. All are ready to admit that he was an able ruler; but he had not that perfect uprightness and straightness which give to a ruler the qualities most to be desired. He could speak twenty-five different languages; and thus he was often able to talk over those with whom he might not have been able to come to an understanding, had his conversation been less versatile. He was of gigantic stature, which caused him to be looked up to by those who were placed under his authority. Notwithstanding his excessive height, he was not at all ungainly in his appearance, but his well-moulded frame was a perfect picture.

His fondness for the fine arts was exhibited in the rapacity with which he seized upon the choicest efforts of human genius, which were in turn stolen from him by other amateurs, whose patronage of talent was evinced in the ardour with which they appropriated the result of its labours. In Sinope, one of his cities, was found an astronomical sphere, which seems to show that the science of the stars was within the circle of his knowledge. In one of his fortresses was discovered a statue of himself no less than twelve feet high, in pure gold, which proved not only the value he set upon himself, but showed how completely he was wrapped up in the precious metal.

Credit has been given him for the possession of many domestic virtues; because, though he was cruel to one half of his numerous wives, he treated the other half with considerate tenderness. He excited the terror of his foes, but enjoyed the affection of his servants; and though hated in the field, he was beloved in the kitchen. According to Paterculus, Mithridates was a man of whom it is difficult to speak, and still more difficult to say nothing.[74] The same authority confers upon him a character for greatness of mind during the whole of his life; but when, having a great mind to kill himself, he prevailed on a slave to put him to death, he evinced—to use a contradictory expression—a vast amount of mental littleness.

FOOTNOTE:

[74] Mithridates, Ponticus Rex, vir neque silendus, neque dicendus sine curâ. Vell. Paterc., lib. ii., c. 18.