Crassus

His situation was as follows. After ordering his son to charge the Parthians and receiving tidings that the enemy were routed to a great distance and hotly pursued, and after noticing also that his immediate opponents were no longer pressing him so hard (since most of them had streamed away to where Publius was), he recovered a little courage, and drawing his troops together, posted them for safety on sloping ground, in immediate expectations that his son would return from the pursuit.

Of the messengers sent by Publius to his father, when he began to be in danger, the first fell in with the Barbarians and were slain; the next made their way through with difficulty and reported that Publius was lost unless he received speedy and abundant aid from his father.

And now Crassus was a prey to many conflicting emotions, and no longer looked at anything with calm judgement. His fear for the whole army drove him to refuse, and at the same time his yearning love for his son impelled him to grant assistance; but at last he began to move his forces forward. At this point, however, the enemy came up with clamour and battle cries which made them more fearful than ever, and again many of their drums began bellowing about the Romans, who awaited the beginning of a second battle.

Besides, those of the enemy who carried the head of Publius fixed high upon a spear, rode close up and displayed it, scornfully asking after his parents and family, for surely, they said, it was not meet that Crassus, most base and cowardly of men, should be the father of a son so noble and of such splendid valour. This spectacle shattered and unstrung the spirits of the Romans more than all the rest of their terrible experiences, and they were all filled, not with a passion for revenge, as was to have been expected, but with shuddering and trembling.

And yet Crassus, as they say, showed more brilliant qualities in that awful hour than ever before, for he went up and down the ranks crying: Mine, O Romans, is this sorrow, and mine alone; but the great fortune and glory of Rome abide unbroken and unconquered in you, who are alive and safe. Amid now if ye have any pity for nine, thus bereft of the noblest of sons, show it by your wrath against the enemy. Rob them of their joy; avenge their cruelty; be not cast down at what has happened, for it must needs be that those who aim at great deeds should also suffer greatly.

It was not without bloody losses that even Lucullus overthrew Tigranes, or Scipio Antiochus; and our fathers of old lost a thousand ships off Sicily, and in Italy many imperators and generals, not one of whom, by his defeat, prevented them from afterwards mastering his conquerors. For it was not by good fortune merely that the Roman state reached its present plenitude of power, but by the patient endurance and valour of those who freed dangers in its behalf.

Even as he spoke such words of encouragement, Crassus saw that not many of his men listened with any eagerness, but when he also bade them raise the battle cry, he discovered how despondent his army was, so weak, feeble, and uneven was the shout they made, while that which came from the Barbarians was clear and bold. Then, as the enemy got to work, their light, cavalry rode round on the flanks of the Romans and shot them with arrows, while the mail-clad horsemen in front, plying their long spears, kept driving them together into a narrow space,

except those who, to escape death from the arrows, made bold to rush desperately upon their foes. These did little damage, but met with a speedy death from great and fatal wounds, since the spear which the Parthians thrust into the horses was heavy with steel, and often had impetus enough to pierce through two men at once. After fighting in this manner till night came on, the Parthians withdrew, saying that they would grant Crassus one night in which to bewail his son, unless, with a better regard for his own interests, he should consent to go to Arsaces instead of being carried there.

The Parthians, then, bivouacked near by, and were in high hopes; but it was a grievous night for the Romans. They took no steps to bury their dead nor to care for their wounded and dying, but every man was lamenting his own fate. Escape seemed impossible, whether they waited there for day to come, or plunged by night into a limitless plain. Amid their wounded caused them much perplexity: they were sure to impede flight if they were carried away, and if they were left behind, their cries would herald to the enemy the retreat of their companions.

Although the soldiers held Crassus to blame for all their ills, still they yearned to see his face and hear his voice. But he was lying on the ground by himself, enveloped in darkness, to the multitude an illustration of the ways of fortune, but to the wise air example of foolish ambition, which would not let him rest satisfied to be first and greatest among many myriads of men, but made him think, because he was judged inferior to two men only, that he lacked everything.

At this time, then, Octavius the legate and Cassius tried to rouse him up and encourage him. But since he was in utter despair, they called together on their own authority the centurions amid captains, and when they had decided, upon deliberation, not to remain where they were, they put the army in motion without trumpet signal, and in silence at first. Then the sick and wounded perceived that their comrades were abandoning them and dreadful disorder and confusion, accompanied by groans and shouts, filled the camp.

And after this, as they tried to advance, disorder and panic seized upon them, for they felt sure that the enemy was coining against them. Frequently they would change their course, frequently they would form in order of battle, some of the wounded who followed them had to be taken up, and others to be laid down, and so all were delayed, except three hundred horsemen under Ignatius, who reached Carrhae about midnight.