Crassus

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.

Ignatius hailed the sentinels on the walls in the Roman tongue, and when they answered, ordered them to tell Coponius, their commander, that there had been a great battle between Crassus and the Parthians. Then, without another word, and without even telling who he was, he rode off to Zeugma. He saved himself and his men, but got a bad name for deserting his general.

However, the message shouted to Coponius at that time was of some advantage to Crassus. For Coponius, concluding that the haste and brevity of the message argued a bearer of no good news, ordered his men to arm forthwith, and as soon as he learned that Crassus was on the march, he went out to meet him, relieved him, and escorted his army into the city.