_Julian becomes Emperor of Rome. His Resolution to invade Persia. His
Views and Motives. His Proceedings. Proposals of Sapor rejected. Other
Embassies. Relations of Julian with Armenia. Strength of his Army.
His invasion of Mesopotamia. His Line of March. Siege of Perisabor; of
Maogamalcha. Battle of the Tigris. Further Progress of Julian checked
by his Inability to invest Ctesiphon. His Retreat. His Death. Retreat
continued by Jovian. Sapor offers Terms of Peace. Peace made by Jovian.
Its Conditions. Reflections on the Peace and on the Termination of the
Second Period of Struggle between Rome and Persia._
“Julianus, redacta ad unum se orbis Romani curatione, glorise nimis
cupidus, in Persas proficiscitur.”--Aurel. Viet. Epit. §43.
The prince on whom the government of the Roman empire, and consequently
the direction of the Persian war, devolved by the death of Constantius,
was in the flower of his age, proud, self-confident, and full of energy.
He had been engaged for a period of four years in a struggle with the
rude and warlike tribes of Germany, had freed the whole country west
of the Rhine from the presence of those terrible warriors, and had even
carried fire and sword far into the wild and savage districts on the
right bank of the river, and compelled the Alemanni and other powerful
German tribes to make their submission to the majesty of Rome.
Personally brave, by temperament restless, and inspired with an ardent
desire to rival or eclipse the glorious deeds of those heroes of former
times who had made themselves a name in history, he viewed the disturbed
condition of the East at the time of his accession not as a trouble, not
as a drawback upon the delights of empire, but as a happy circumstance,
a fortunate opportunity for distinguishing himself by some great
achievement. Of all the Greeks, Alexander appeared to him the most
illustrious; of all his predecessors on the imperial throne, Trajan and
Marcus Aurelius were those whom he most wished to emulate. But all these
princes had either led or sent expeditions into the far East, and had
aimed at uniting in one the fairest provinces of Europe and Asia.
Julian appears, from the first moment that he found himself peaceably
established upon the throne, to have resolved on undertaking in person a
great expedition against Sapor, with the object of avenging upon Persia
the ravages and defeats of the last sixty years, or at any rate of
obtaining such successes as might justify his assuming the title
of “Persicus.” Whether he really entertained any hope of rivalling
Alexander, or supposed it possible that he should effect “the final
conquest of Persia,” may be doubted. Acquainted, as he must have been,
with the entire course of Roman warfare in these parts from the attack
of Crassus to the last defeat of his own immediate predecessor, he can
scarcely have regarded the subjugation of Persia as an easy matter, or
have expected to do much more than strike terror into the “barbarians”
of the East, or perhaps obtain from them the cession of another
province. The sensible officer, who, after accompanying him in his
expedition, wrote the history of the campaign, regarded his actuating
motives as the delight that he took in war, and the desire of a new
title. Confident in his own military talent, in his training, and in
his power to inspire enthusiasm in an army, he no doubt looked to reap
laurels sufficient to justify him in making his attack; but the wild
schemes ascribed to him, the conquest of the Sassanian kingdom, and
the subjugation of Hyrcania and India, are figments (probably) of the
imagination of his historians.
Julian entered Constantinople on the 11th of December, A.D. 361; he
quitted it towards the end of May,12 A.D. 362, after residing there
less than six months. During this period, notwithstanding the various
important matters in which he was engaged, the purifying of the court,
the depression of the Christians, the restoration and revivification
of Paganism, he found time to form plans and make preparations for his
intended eastern expedition, in which he was anxious to engage as soon
as possible. Having designated for the war such troops as could be
spared from the West, he committed them and their officers to the charge
of two generals, carefully chosen, Victor, a Roman of distinction, and
the Persian refugee, Prince Hormisdas, who conducted the legions without
difficulty to Antioch. There Julian himself arrived in June or July 14
after having made a stately progress through Asia Minor; and it would
seem that he would at once have marched against the enemy, had not his
counsellors strongly urged the necessity of a short delay, during which
the European troops might be rested, and adequate preparations made for
the intended invasion. It was especially necessary to provide stores and
ships, since the new emperor had resolved not to content himself with an
ordinary campaign upon the frontier, but rather to imitate the examples
of Trajan and Severus, who had carried the Roman eagles to the extreme
south of Mesopotamia. Ships, accordingly, were collected, and probably
built during the winter of A.D. 362-3; provisions were laid in; warlike
stores, military engines, and the like accumulated; while the impatient
monarch, galled by the wit and raillery of the gay Antiochenes, chafed
at his compelled inaction, and longed to exchange the war of words in
which he was engaged with his subjects for the ruder contests of arms
wherewith use had made him more familiar.
It must have been during the emperor’s stay at Antioch that he
received an embassy from the court of Persia, commissioned to sound his
inclinations with regard to the conclusion of a peace. Sapor had
seen, with some disquiet, the sceptre of the Roman world assumed by an
enterprising and courageous youth, inured to warfare and ambitious of
military glory. He was probably very well informed as to the general
condition of the Roman State and the personal character of its
administrator; and the tidings which he received concerning the
intentions and preparations, of the new prince were such as caused him
some apprehension, if not actual alarm. Under these circumstance she
sent an embassy with overtures, the exact nature of which is not known,
but which, it is probable, took for their basis the existing territorial
limits of the two countries. At least, we hear of no offer of surrender
or submission on Sapor’s part; and we can scarcely suppose that, had
such offers been made, the Roman writers would have passed them over in
silence. It is not surprising that Julian lent no favorable ear to the
envoys, if these were their instructions; but it would have been better
for his reputation had he replied to them with less of haughtiness and
rudeness. According to one authority, he tore up before their faces
the autograph letter of their master; while, according to another, he
responded, with a contemptuous smile, that “there was no occasion for
an exchange of thought between him and the Persian king by messengers,
since he intended very shortly to treat with him in person.” Having
received this rebuff, the envoys of Sapor took their departure, and
conveyed to their sovereign the intelligence that he must prepare
himself to resist a serious invasion.
About the same time various offers of assistance reached the Roman
emperor from the independent or semi-independent princes and chieftains
of the regions adjacent to Mesopotamia. Such overtures were sure to
be made by the heads of the plundering desert tribes to any powerful
invader, since it would be hoped that a share in the booty might be
obtained without much participation in the danger. We are told that
Julian promptly rejected these offers, grandly saying that it was for
Rome rather to give aid to her allies than to receive assistance from
them. It appears, however, that at least two exceptions were made to the
general principle thus magniloquently asserted. Julian had taken into
his service, ere he quitted Europe, a strong body of Gothic auxiliaries;
and, while at Antioch, he sent to the Saracens, reminding them of their
promise to lend him troops, and calling upon them to fulfil it. If
the advance on Persia was to be made by the line of the Euphrates,
an alliance with these agile sons of the desert was of first-rate
importance, since the assistance which they could render as friends was
considerable, and the injury which they could inflict as enemies was
almost beyond calculation. It is among the faults of Julian in this
campaign that he did not set more store by the Saracen alliance, and
make greater efforts to maintain it; we shall find that after a while
he allowed the brave nomads to become disaffected, and to exchange their
friendship with him for hostility. Had he taken more care to attach them
cordially to the side of Rome, it is quite possible that his expedition
might have had a prosperous issue.
There was another ally, whose services Julian regarded himself as
entitled not to request, but to command. Arsaces, king of Armenia,
though placed on his throne by Sapor, had (as we have seen) transferred
his allegiance to Constantius, and voluntarily taken up the position of
a Roman feudatory. Constantius had of late suspected his fidelity; but
Arsaces had not as yet, by any overt act, justified these suspicions,
and Julian seems to have regarded him as an assured friend and ally.
Early in A.D. 363 he addressed a letter to the Armenian monarch,
requiring him to levy a considerable force, and hold himself in
readiness to execute such orders as he would receive within a short
time. The style, address, and purport of this letter were equally
distasteful to Arsaces, whose pride was outraged, and whose indolence
was disturbed, by the call thus suddenly made upon him. His own desire
was probably to remain neutral; he felt no interest in the standing
quarrel between his two powerful neighbors; he was under obligations
to both of them; and it was for his advantage that they should remain
evenly balanced. We cannot ascribe to him any earnest religious feeling;
but, as one who kept up the profession of Christianity, he could not but
regard with aversion the Apostate, who had given no obscure intimation
of his intention to use his power to the utmost in order to sweep the
Christian religion from the face of the earth. The disinclination of
their monarch to observe the designs of Julian was shared, or rather
surpassed, by his people, the more educated portion of whom were
strongly attached to the new faith and worship. If the great historian
of Armenia is right in stating that Julian at this time offered an
open insult to the Armenian religion, we must pronounce him strangely
imprudent. The alliance of Armenia was always of the utmost importance
to Rome in any attack upon the East. Julian seems to have gone out of
his way to create offence in this quarter, where his interests required
that he should exercise all his powers of conciliation.
The forces which the emperor regarded as at his disposal, and with
which he expected to take the field, were the following. His own troops
amounted to 83,000 or (according to another account) to 95,000 men. They
consisted chiefly of Roman legionaries, horse and foot, but included
a strong body of Gothic auxiliaries. Armenia was expected to furnish
a considerable force, probably not less than 20,000 men; and the light
horse of the Saracens would, it was thought, be tolerably numerous.
Altogether, an army of above a hundred thousand men was about to be
launched on the devoted Persia, which was believed unlikely to offer any
effectual, if even any serious, resistance.
The impatience of Julian scarcely allowed him to await the conclusion of
the winter. With the first breath of spring he put his forces in motion,
and, quitting Antioch, marched with all speed to the Euphrates. Passing
Litarbi, and then Hiapolis, he crossed the river by a bridge of boats in
the vicinity that place, and proceeded by Batnee to the important city
of Carrhae, once the home of Abraham. Here he halted for a few days and
finally fixed his plans. It was by this time well known to the Romans
that there were two, and two only, convenient roads whereby Southern
Mesopotamia was to be reached, one along the line of the Mons Masius to
the Tigris, and then along the banks of that stream, the other down the
valley of the Euphrates to the great alluvial plain on the lower course
of the rivers. Julian had, perhaps, hitherto doubted which line he
should follow in person. The first had been preferred by Alexander and
by Trajan, the second by the younger Cyrus, by Avidius Cassius, and by
Severus. Both lines were fairly practicable; but that of the Tigris
was circuitous, and its free employment was only possible under the
condition of Armenia being certainly friendly. If Julian had cause to
suspect, as it is probable that he had, the fidelity o£ the Armenians,
he may have felt that there was one line only which he could with
prudence pursue. He might send a subsidiary force by the doubtful route
which could advance to his aid if matters went favorably, or remain on
the defensive if they assumed a threatening aspect; but his own
grand attack must be by the other. Accordingly he divided his forces.
Committing a body of troops, which is variously estimated at from 18,000
to 30,000, into the hands of Procopius, a connection of his own, and
Sebastian, Duke of Egypt, with orders that they should proceed by way of
the Mons Masius to Armenia, and, uniting themselves with the forces
of Arsaces, invade Northern Media, ravage it, and then join him before
Ctesiphon by the line of the Tigris, he reserved for himself and for
his main army the shorter and more open route down the valley of the
Euphrates. Leaving Carrhae on the 26th of March, after about a week’s
stay, he marched southward, at the head of 65,000 men, by Davana and
along the course of the Belik, to Callinicus or Nicophorium, near the
junction of the Belik with the Euphrates. Here the Saracen chiefs came
and made their submission, and were graciously received by the emperor,
to whom they presented a crown of gold. At the same time the fleet made
its appearance, numbering at least 1100 vessels, of which fifty were
ships of war, fifty prepared to serve as pontoons, and the remaining
thousand, transports laden with provisions, weapons, and military
engines.
From Callinicus the emperor marched along the course of the Euphrates
to Circusium, or Circesium, at the junction of the Khabour with the
Euphrates, arriving at this place early in April. Thus far he had been
marching through his own dominions, and had had no hostility to dread.
Being now about to enter the enemy’s country, he made arrangements for
the march which seem to have been extremely judicious. The cavalry was
placed under the command of Arinthseus and Prince Hormisdas, and was
stationed at the extreme left, with orders to advance on a line parallel
with the general course of the river. Some picked legions under the
command of Nevitta formed the right wing, and, resting on the Euphrates,
maintained communication with the fleet. Julian, with the main part of
his troops, occupied the space intermediate between these two extremes,
marching in a loose column which from front to rear covered a distance
of above nine miles. A flying corps of fifteen hundred men acted as an
avant-guard under Count Lucilianus, and explored the country in advance,
feeling on all sides for the enemy. The rear was covered by a detachment
under Secundinus, Duke of Osrhoene, Dagalaiphus, and Victor.
Having made his dispositions, and crossed the broad stream of the
Khabour, on the 7th of April, by a bridge of boats, which he immediately
broke up, Julian continued his advance along the course of the
Euphrates, supported by his fleet, which was not allowed either to
outstrip or to lag behind the army. The first halt was at Zaitha, famous
as the scene of the murder of Gordian, whose tomb was in its vicinity.
Here Julian encouraged his soldiers by an eloquent speech, in which he
recounted the past successes of the Roman arms, and promised them an
easy victory over their present adversary. He then, in a two days’
march, reached Dura, a ruined city, destitute of inhabitants, on the
banks of the river; from which a march of four days more brought him
to Anathan, the modern Anah, a strong fortress on an island in the
mid-stream, which was held by a Persian garrison. An attempt to surprise
the place by a night attack having failed, Julian had recourse to
persuasion, and by the representations of Prince Hormisdas induced its
defenders to surrender the fort and place themselves at his mercy.
It was, perhaps, to gall the Antiochenes with an indication of his
victorious progress that he sent his prisoners under escort into Syria,
and settled them in the territory of Chalcis, at no great distance
from the city of his aversion. Unwilling further to weaken his army by
detaching a garrison to hold his conquest, he committed Anathan to the
flames before proceeding further down the river.
About eight miles below Anathan, another island and another fortress
were held by the enemy. Thilutha is described as stronger than Anathan,
and indeed as almost impregnable. Julian felt that he could not attack
it with any hope of success, and therefore once more submitted to use
persuasion. But the garrison, feeling themselves secure, rejected his
overtures; they would wait, they said, and see which party was superior
in the approaching conflict, and would then attach themselves to
the victors. Meanwhile, if unmolested by the invader, they would not
interfere with his advance, but would maintain a neutral attitude.
Julian had to determine whether he would act in the spirit of an
Alexander, and, rejecting with disdain all compromise, compel by force
of arms an entire submission, or whether he would take lower ground,
accept the offer made to him, and be content to leave in his rear a
certain number of unconquered fortresses. He decided that prudence
required him to take the latter course, and left Thilutha unassailed.
It is not surprising that, having admitted the assumption of a neutral
position by one town, he was forced to extend the permission to others,
and so to allow the Euphrates route to remain, practically, in the hands
of the Persians.
A. five days’ march from Thilutha brought the army to a point opposite
Diacira, or Hit, a town of ancient repute, and one which happened to be
well provided with stores and provisions. Though the place lay on the
right bank of the river, it was still exposed to attack, as the fleet
could convey any number of troops from one shore to the other. Being
considered untenable, it was deserted by the male inhabitants, who,
however, left some of their women behind them. We obtain an unpleasant
idea of the state of discipline which the philosophic emperor allowed
to prevail, when we find that his soldiers, “without remorse and without
punishment, massacred these defenceless persons.” The historian of the
war records this act without any appearance of shame, as if it were
a usual occurrence, and no more important than the burning of the
plundered city which followed.
From Hit the army pursued its march, through Sitha and Megia, to
Zaragardia or Ozogardana, where the memory of Trajan’s expedition still
lingered, a certain pedestal or pulpit of stone being known to the
natives as “Trajan’s tribunal.” Up to this time nothing had been seen or
heard of any Persian opposing army; one man only on the Roman side, so
far as we hear, had been killed. No systematic method of checking the
advance had been adopted; the corn was everywhere found standing;
forage was plentiful; and there were magazines of grain in the towns. No
difficulties had delayed the invaders but such as Nature had interposed
to thwart them, as when a violent storm on one occasion shattered the
tents, and on another a sudden swell of the Euphrates wrecked some of
the corn transports, and interrupted the right wing’s line of march.
But this pleasant condition of things was not to continue. At Hit the
rolling Assyrian plain had come to an end, and the invading army had
entered upon the low alluvium of Babylonia, a region of great fertility,
intersected by numerous canals, which in some places were carried the
entire distance from the one river to the other. The change in the
character of the country encouraged the Persians to make a change in
their tactics. Hitherto they had been absolutely passive; now at last
they showed themselves, and commenced the active system of perpetual
harassing warfare in which they were adepts. A surena, or general of
the first rank, appeared in the field, at the head of a strong body of
Persian horse, and accompanied by a sheikh of the Saracenic Arabs,
known as Malik (or “King”) Rodoseces. Retreating as Julian advanced, but
continually delaying his progress, hanging on the skirts of his
army, cutting off his stragglers, and threatening every unsupported
detachment, this active force changed all the conditions of the march,
rendering it slow and painful, and sometimes stopping it altogether. We
are told that on one occasion Prince Hormisdas narrowly escaped falling
into the surena’s hands. On another, the Persian force, having allowed
the Roman vanguard to proceed unmolested, suddenly showed itself on the
southern bank of one of the great canals connecting the Euphrates
with the Tigris, and forbade the passage of Julian’s main army. It was
only after a day and a night’s delay that the emperor, by detaching
troops under Victor to make a long circuit, cross the canal far to the
east, recall Lucilianus with the vanguard, and then attack the surena’s
troops in the rear, was able to overcome the resistance in his front,
and carry his army across the cutting.
Having in this way effected the passage, Julian continued his march
along the Euphrates, and in a short time came to the city of Perisabor
(Mruz Shapur), the most important that he had yet reached, and reckoned
not much inferior to Otesiphon. As the inhabitants steadily refused all
accommodation, and insulted Hormisdas, who was sent to treat with
them, by the reproach that he was a deserter and a traitor, the emperor
determined to form the siege of the place and see if he could not
compel it to a surrender. Situated between the Euphrates and one of the
numerous canals derived from it, and further protected by a trench drawn
across from the canal to the river, Perisabor occupied a sort of island,
while at the same time it was completely surrounded with a double wall.
The citadel, which lay towards the north, and overhung the Euphrates,
was especially strong; and the garrison was brave, numerous, and full
of confidence. The walls, however, composed in part of brick laid in
bitumen, were not of much strength; and the Roman soldiers found little
difficulty in shattering with the ram one of the corner towers, and so
making an entrance into the place. But the real struggle now began.
The brave defenders retreated into the citadel, which was of imposing
height, and from this vantage-ground galled the Romans in the town with
an incessant shower of arrows, darts, and stones. The ordinary catapults
and balistae of the Romans were no match for such a storm descending
from such a height; and it was plainly necessary, if the place was to be
taken, to have recourse to some other device. Julian, therefore, who was
never sparing of his own person, took the resolution, on the second day
of the siege, of attempting to burst open one of the gates. Accompanied
by a small band, who formed a roof over his head with their shields,
and by a few sappers with their tools, he approached the gate-tower, and
made his men commence their operations. The doors, however, were found
to be protected with iron, and the fastenings to be so strong that
no immediate impression could be made; while the alarmed garrison,
concentrating its attention on the threatened spot, kept up a furious
discharge of missiles on their daring assailants. Prudence counselled
retreat from the dangerous position which had been taken up; and the
emperor, though he felt acutely the shame of having failed, retired.
But his mind, fertile in resource, soon formed a new plan. He remembered
that Demetrius Poliorcetes had acquired his surname by the invention and
use of the “Helepolis,” a movable tower of vast height, which placed the
assailants on a level with the defenders even of the loftiest ramparts.
He at once ordered the construction of such a machine; and, the ability
of his engineers being equal to the task, it rapidly grew before his
eyes. The garrison saw its growth with feelings very opposite to
those of their assailant; they felt that they could not resist the new
creation, and anticipated its employment by a surrender, Julian agreed
to spare their lives, and allowed them to withdraw and join their
countrymen, each man taking with him a spare garment and a certain
sum of money. The other stores contained within the walls fell to the
conquerors, who found them to comprise a vast quantity of corn, arms,
and other valuables. Julian distributed among his troops whatever was
likely to be serviceable; the remainder, of which he could make no use,
was either burned or thrown into the Euphrates.
The latitude of Ctesiphon was now nearly reached, but Julian still
continued to descend the Euphrates, while the Persian cavalry made
occasional dashes upon his extended line, and sometimes caused him a
sensible loss. At length he came to the point where the Nahr-Malcha, or
“Royal river,” the chief of the canals connecting the Euphrates with the
Tigris, branched off from the more western stream, and ran nearly due
east to the vicinity of the capital. The canal was navigable by his
ships, and he therefore at this point quitted the Euphrates, and
directed his march eastward along the course of the cutting, following
in the footsteps of Severus, and no doubt expecting, like him, to
capture easily the great metropolitan city. But his advance across the
neck of land which here separates the Tigris from the Euphrates was
painful and difficult, since the enemy laid the country under water, and
at every favorable point disputed his progress. Julian, however, still
pressed forward, and advanced, though slowly. By felling the palms which
grew abundantly in this region, and forming with them rafts supported
by inflated skins, he was able to pass the inundated district, and to
approach within about eleven miles of Ctesiphon. Here his further march
was obstructed by a fortress, built (as it would seem) to defend the
capital, and fortified with especial care. Ammianus calls this place
Maoga-malcha, while Zosimus gives it the name of Besuchis; but both
agree that it was a large town, commanded by a strong citadel, and held
by a brave and numerous garrison. Julian might perhaps have left it
unassailed, as he had left already several towns upon his line of march;
but a daring attempt made against himself by a portion of the garrison
caused him to feel his honor concerned in taking the place; and the
result was that he once more arrested his steps, and, sitting down
before the walls, commenced a formal siege. All the usual arts of attack
and defence were employed on either side for several days, the chief
novel feature in the warfare being the use by the besieged of blazing
balls of bitumen, which they shot from their lofty towers against the
besiegers’ works and persons. Julian, however, met this novelty by a
device on his side which was uncommon; he continued openly to assault
the walls and gates with his battering rams, but he secretly gave orders
that the chief efforts of his men should be directed to the formation of
a mine, which should be carried under both the walls that defended the
place, and enable him to introduce suddenly a body of troops into the
very heart of the city. His orders were successfully executed; and
while a general attack upon the defences occupied the attention of
the besieged, three corps introduced through the mine suddenly showed
themselves in the town itself, and rendered further resistance hopeless.
Maogamalcha, which a little before had boasted of being impregnable,
and had laughed to scorn the vain efforts of the emperor, suddenly
found itself taken by assault and undergoing the extremities of sack and
pillage. Julian made no efforts to prevent a general massacre, and the
entire population, without distinction of age or sex, seems to have been
put to the sword. The commandant of the fortress, though he was at
first spared, suffered death shortly after on a frivolous charge. Even a
miserable remnant, which had concealed itself in caves and cellars, was
hunted out, smoke and fire being used to force the fugitives from their
hiding-places, or else cause them to perish in the darksome dens by
suffocation. Thus there was no extremity of savage warfare which was
not used, the fourth century anticipating some of the horrors which have
most disgraced the nineteenth.
Nothing now but the river Tigris intervened between Julian and the
great city of Ctesiphon, which was plainly the special object of the
expedition. Ctesiphon, indeed, was not to Persia what it had been
to Parthia; but still it might fairly be looked upon as a prize of
considerable importance. Of Parthia it had been the main, in later times
perhaps the sole, capital; to Persia it was a secondary rather than
a primary city, the ordinary residence of the court being Istakr, or
Persepolis. Still the Persian kings seem occasionally to have resided at
Ctesiphon; and among the secondary cities of the empire it undoubtedly
held a high rank. In the neighborhood were various royal hunting-seats,
surrounded by shady gardens, and adorned with paintings or bas-reliefs;
while near them were parks or “paradises,” containing the game kept
for the prince’s sport, which included lions, wild boars, and bears of
remarkable fierceness. As Julian advanced, these pleasaunces fell,
one after another, into his hands, and were delivered over to the rude
soldiery, who trampled the flowers and shrubs under foot, destroyed the
wild beasts, and burned the residences. No serious resistance was as
yet made by any Persian force to the progress of the Romans, who
pressed steadily forward, occasionally losing a few men or a few baggage
animals, but drawing daily nearer to the great city, and on their way
spreading ruin and desolation over a most fertile district, from which
they drew abundant supplies as they passed through it, while they left
it behind them blackened, wasted, and almost without inhabitant. The
Persians seem to have had orders not to make, as yet, any firm stand.
One of the sons of Sapor was now at their head, but no change of tactics
occurred. As Julian drew near, this prince indeed quitted the shelter of
Ctesiphon, and made a reconnaissance in force; but when he fell in with
the Roman advanced guard under Victor, and saw its strength, he declined
an engagement, and retired without coming to blows.
Julian had now reached the western suburb of Ctesiphon, which had lost
its old name of Seleucia and was known as Coche. The capture of this
place would, perhaps, not have been difficult; but, as the broad and
deep stream of the Tigris flowed between it and the main town, little
would have been gained by the occupation. Julian felt that, to attack
Ctesiphon with success, he must, like Trajan and Severus, transport his
army to the left bank of the Tigris, and deliver his assault upon the
defences that lay beyond that river. For the safe transport of his army
he trusted to his fleet, which he had therefore caused to enter the
Nahr-Malcha, and to accompany his troops thus far. But at Coche he found
that the Nahr-Malcha, instead of joining the Tigris, as he had expected,
above Ctesiphon, ran into it at some distance below. To have pursued
this line with both fleet and army would have carried him too far into
the enemy’s country, have endangered his communications, and especially
have cut him off from the Armenian army under Procopius and Sebastian,
with which he was at this time looking to effect a junction. To have
sent the fleet into the Tigris below Coche, while the army occupied
the right bank of the river above it, would, in the first place, have
separated the two, and would further have been useless, unless the fleet
could force its way against the strong current through the whole length
of the hostile city. In this difficulty Julian’s book-knowledge
was found of service. He had studied with care the campaigns of his
predecessors in these regions, and recollected that one of them at any
rate had made a cutting from the Nahr-Malcha, by which he had brought
his fleet into the Tigris above Ctesiphon. If this work could be
discovered, it might, he thought, in all probability be restored. Some
of the country people were therefore seized, and, inquiry being made
of them, the line of the canal was pointed out, and the place shown at
which it had been derived from the Nahr-Malcha. Here the Persians had
erected a strong dam, with sluices, by means of which a portion of the
water could occasionally be turned into the Roman cutting. Julian had
the cutting cleared out, and the dam torn down; whereupon the main
portion of the stream rushed at once into the old channel, which rapidly
filled, and was found to be navigable by the Roman vessels. The fleet
was thus brought into the Tigris above Coche; and the army advancing
with it encamped upon the right bank of the river.
The Persians now for the first time appeared in force. As Julian drew
near the great stream, he perceived that his passage of it would not be
unopposed. Along the left bank, which was at this point naturally higher
than the right, and which was further crowned by a wall built originally
to fence in one of the royal parks, could be seen the dense masses
of the enemy’s-horse and foot, stretching away to right and left, the
former encased in glittering armor, the latter protected by huge
wattled shields. Behind these troops were discernible the vast forms
of elephants, looking (says the historian) like moving mountains, and
regarded by the legionaries with extreme dread. Julian felt that he
could not ask his army to cross the stream openly in the face of a foe
thus advantageously posted. He therefore waited the approach of night.
When darkness had closed in, he made his dispositions; divided his
fleet into portions; embarked a number of his troops; and, despite
the dissuasions of his officers, gave the signal for the passage to
commence. Five ships, each of them conveying eighty soldiers, led the
way, and reached the opposite shore without accident. Here, however,
the enemy received them with a sharp fire of burning darts, and the two
foremost were soon in flames. At the ominous sight the rest of the fleet
wavered, and might have refused to proceed further, had not Julian, with
admirable presence of mind, exclaimed aloud--“Our men have crossed and
are masters of the bank--that fire is the signal which I bade them make
if they were victorious.” Thus encouraged, the crews plied their oars
with vigor, and impelled the remaining vessels rapidly across the
stream. At the same time, some of the soldiers who had not been put on
board, impatient to assist their comrades, plunged into the stream, and
swam across supported by their shields. Though a stout resistance
was offered by the Persians, it was found impossible to withstand the
impetuosity of the Roman attack. Not only were the half-burned vessels
saved, the flames extinguished, and the men on board rescued from their
perilous position, but everywhere the Roman troops made good their
landing, fought their way up the bank against a storm of missile
weapons, and drew up in good order upon its summit. A pause probably now
occurred, as the armies could not see each other in the darkness; but,
at dawn of day, Julian, having made a fresh arrangement of his troops,
led them against the dense array of the enemy, and engaged in a
hand-to-hand combat, which lasted from morning to midday, when it was
terminated by the flight of the Persians. Their leaders, Tigranes,
Narseus, and the Surena, are said to have been the first to quit the
field and take refuge within the defences of Ctesiphon. The example thus
set was universally followed; and the entire Persian army, abandoning
its camp and baggage, rushed in the wildest confusion across the plain
to the nearest of the city gates, closely pursued by its active foe up
to the very foot of the walls. The Roman writers assert that Ctesiphon
might have been entered and taken, had not the general, Victor, who was
wounded by a dart from a catapult, recalled his men as they were about
to rush in through the open gateway. It is perhaps doubtful whether
success would really have crowned such audacity. At any rate the
opportunity passed--the runaways entered the town--the gate closed upon
them; and Ctesiphon was safe unless it were reduced by the operations of
a regular siege.
But the fruits of the victory were still considerable. The entire
Persian army collected hitherto for the defence of Ctesiphon had been
defeated by one-third of the Roman force under Julian. The vanquished
had left 2,500 men dead upon the field, while the victors had lost no
more than seventy-five. A rich spoil had fallen into the hands of the
Romans, who found in the abandoned camp couches and tables of massive
silver, and on the bodies of the slain, both men and horses, a profusion
of gold and silver ornaments, besides trappings and apparel of great
magnificence. A welcome supply of provisions was also furnished by the
lands and houses in the neighborhood of Ctesiphon; and the troops passed
from a state of privation to one of extreme abundance, so that it was
feared lest they might suffer from excess.
Affairs had now reached a point when it was necessary to form a definite
resolution as to what should be the further aim and course of the
expedition. Hitherto all had indicated an intention on the part of
Julian to occupy Ctesiphon, and thence dictate a peace. His long march,
his toilsome canal-cutting, his orders to his second army, his crossing
of the Tigris, his engagement with the Persians in the plain before
Ctesiphon, were the natural steps conducting to such a result, and are
explicable on one hypothesis and one hypothesis only. He must up to this
time have designed to make himself master of the great city, which
had been the goal of so many previous invasions, and had always fallen
whenever Rome attacked it. But, having overcome all the obstacles in his
path, and having it in his power at once to commence the siege, a sudden
doubt appears to have assailed him as to the practicability of the
undertaking. It can scarcely be supposed that the city was really
stronger now than it had been under the Parthians; much less can it be
argued that Julian’s army was insufficient for the investment of such a
place. It was probably the most powerful army with which the Romans had
as yet invaded Southern Mesopotamia; and it was amply provided with
all the appurtenances of war. If Julian did not venture to attempt what
Trajan and Avidius Cassius and Septimius Severus had achieved without
difficulty, it must have been because the circumstances under which he
would have had to make the attack were different from those under which
they had ventured and succeeded. And the difference--a most momentous
one--was this. They besieged and captured the place after defeating the
greatest force that Parthia could bring into the field against them.
Julian found himself in front of Ctesiphon before he had crossed swords
with the Persian king, or so much as set eyes on the grand army which
Sapor was known to have collected. To have sat down before Ctesiphon
under such circumstances would have been to expose himself to great
peril; while he was intent upon the siege, he might at any time have
been attacked by a relieving army under the Great King, have been placed
between two fires, and compelled to engage at extreme disadvantage. It
was a consideration of this danger that impelled the council of war,
whereto he submitted the question, to pronounce the siege of Ctesiphon
too hazardous an operation, and to dissuade the emperor from attempting
it.
But, if the city were not to be besieged, what course could with any
prudence be adopted? It would have been madness to leave Ctesiphon
unassailed, and to press forward against Susa and Persepolis. It would
have been futile to remain encamped before the walls without commencing
a siege. The heats of summer had arrived, and the malaria of autumn was
not far off. The stores brought by the fleet were exhausted; and there
was a great risk in the army’s depending wholly for its subsistence on
the supplies that it might be able to obtain from the enemy’s country.
Julian and his advisers must have seen at a glance that if the Romans
were not to attack Ctesiphon, they must retreat. And accordingly retreat
seems to have been at once determined on. As a first step, the whole
fleet, except some dozen vessels, was burned, since twelve was a
sufficient number to serve as pontoons, and it was not worth the army’s
while to encumber itself with the remainder. They could only have been
tracked up the strong stream of the Tigris by devoting to the work some
20,000 men; thus greatly weakening the strength of the armed force, and
at the same time hampering its movements. Julian, in sacrificing his
ships, suffered simply a pecuniary loss--they could not possibly have
been of any further service to him in the campaign.
Retreat being resolved upon, it only remained to determine what route
should be followed, and on what portion of the Roman territory the
march should be directed. The soldiers clamored for a return by the
way whereby they had come; but many valid objections to this course
presented themselves to their commanders. The country along the line of
the Euphrates had been exhausted of its stores by the troops in their
advance; the forage had been consumed, the towns and villages desolated.
There would be neither food nor shelter for the men along this route;
the season was also unsuitable for it, since the Euphrates was in full
flood, and the moist atmosphere would be sure to breed swarms of flies
and mosquitoes. Julian saw that by far the best line of retreat was
along the Tigris, which had higher banks than the Euphrates, which
was no longer in flood, and which ran through a tract that was highly
productive and that had for many years not been visited by an enemy. The
army, therefore, was ordered to commence its retreat through the country
lying on the left bank of the Tigris, and to spread itself over the
fertile region, in the hope of obtaining ample supplies. The march was
understood to be directed on Cordyene (Kurdistan), a province now in
the possession of Rome, a rich tract, and not more than about 250 miles
distant from Ctesiphon.
Before, however, the retreat commenced, while Julian and his victorious
army were still encamped in sight of Ctesiphon, the Persian king,
according to some writers, sent an embassy proposing terms of
peace. Julian’s successes are represented as having driven Sapor to
despair--“the pride of his royalty was humbled in the dust; he took
his repasts on the ground; and the grief and anxiety of his mind were
expressed by the disorder of his hair.” He would, it is suggested, have
been willing “to purchase, with one half of his kingdom, the safety of
the remainder, and would have gladly subscribed himself, in a treaty of
peace, the faithful and dependent ally of the Roman conqueror.” Such are
the pleasing fictions wherewith the rhetorician of Antioch, faithful to
the memory of his friend and master, consoled himself and his readers
after Julian’s death. It is difficult to decide whether there underlies
them any substratum of truth. Neither Ammianus nor Zosimus makes the
slightest allusion to any negotiations at all at this period; and it is
thus open to doubt whether the entire story told by Libanius is not the
product of his imagination. But at any rate it is quite impossible that
the Persian king can have made any abject offers of submission, or
have been in a state of mind at all akin to despair. His great army,
collected from all quarters, was intact; he had not yet condescended
to take the field in person; he had lost no important town, and his
adversary had tacitly confessed his inability to form the siege of a
city which was far from being the greatest in the empire. If Sapor,
therefore, really made at this time overtures of peace, it must have
been either with the intention of amusing Julian, and increasing
his difficulties by delaying his retreat, or because he thought that
Julian’s consciousness of his difficulties would induce him to offer
terms which he might accept.
The retreat commenced on June 16. Scarcely were the troops set in
motion, when an ominous cloud of dust appeared on the southern horizon,
which grew larger as the day advanced; and, though some suggested that
the appearance was produced by a herd of wild asses, and others ventured
the conjecture that it was caused by the approach of a body of
Julian’s Saracenic allies, the emperor himself was not deceived, but,
understanding that the Persians had set out in pursuit, he called in
his stragglers, massed his troops, and pitched his camp in a strong
position. Day-dawn showed that he had judged aright, for the earliest
rays of the sun were reflected from the polished breastplates and
cuirasses of the Persians, who had drawn up at no great distance during
the night. A combat followed in which the Persian and Saracenic horse
attacked the Romans vigorously, and especially threatened the baggage,
but were repulsed by the firmness and valor of the Roman foot. Julian
was able to continue his retreat after a while, but found himself
surrounded by enemies, some of whom, keeping in advance of his troops,
or hanging upon his flanks, destroyed the corn and forage that his
men so much needed; while others, pressing upon his rear, retarded his
march, and caused him from time to time no inconsiderable losses. The
retreat under these circumstances was slow; the army had to be rested
and recruited when it fell in with any accumulation of provisions; and
the average progress made seems to have been not much more than ten
miles a day. This tardy advance allowed the more slow-moving portion of
the Persian army to close in upon the retiring Romans; and Julian soon
found himself closely followed by dense masses of the enemy’s troops, by
the heavy cavalry clad in steel panoplies, and armed with long spears,
by large bodies of archers, and even by a powerful corps of elephants.
This grand army was under the command of a general whom the Roman
writers call Meranes, and of two sons of Sapor. It pressed heavily
upon the Roman rearguard; and Julian, after a little while, found it
necessary to stop his march, confront his pursuers, and offer them
battle. The offer was accepted, and an engagement took place in a tract
called Maranga. The enemy advanced in two lines--the first composed
of the mailed horsemen and the archers intermixed, the second of the
elephants. Julian prepared his army to receive the attack by disposing
it in the form of a crescent, with the centre drawn back considerably;
but as the Persians advanced into the hollow space, he suddenly led his
troops forward at speed, allowing the archers scarcely time to discharge
their arrows before he engaged them and the horse in close combat. A
long and bloody struggle followed; but the Persians were unaccustomed to
hand-to-hand fighting and disliked it; they gradually gave ground, and
at last broke up and fled, covering their retreat, however, with the
clouds of arrows which they knew well how to discharge as they retired.
The weight of their arms, and the fiery heat of the summer sun,
prevented the Romans from carrying the pursuit very far. Julian recalled
them quickly to the protection of the camp, and suspended his march for
some days while the wounded had their hurts attended to.
The Persian troops, having suffered heavily in the battle, made no
attempt to storm the Roman camp. They were content to spread themselves
on all sides, to destroy or carry off all the forage and provisions, and
to make the country, through which the Roman army must retire, a desert.
Julian’s forces were already suffering severely from scarcity of food,
and the general want was but very slightly relieved by a distribution
of the stores set apart for the officers and for the members of the
imperial household. Under these circumstances it is not surprising
that Julian’s firmness deserted him, and that he began to give way to
melancholy forebodings, and to see visions and omens which portended
disaster and death. In the silence of his tent, as he studied a favorite
philosopher during the dead of night, he thought he saw the Genius of
the State, with veiled head and cornucopia, stealing away through the
hangings slowly and sadly. Soon afterwards, when he had just gone forth
into the open air to perform averting sacrifices, the fall of a shooting
star seemed to him a direct threat from Mars, with whom he had recently
quarrelled. The soothsayers were consulted, and counselled abstinence
from all military movement; but the exigencies of the situation caused
their advice to be for once contemned. It was only by change of place
that there was any chance of obtaining supplies of food; and ultimate
extrication from the perils that surrounded the army depended on a
steady persistence in retreat.
At dawn of day, therefore, on the memorable 26th of June, A.D. 363, the
tents were struck, and the Roman army continued its march across the
wasted plain, having the Tigris at some little distance on its left, and
some low hills upon its right. The enemy did not anywhere appear; and
the troops advanced for a time without encountering opposition. But, as
they drew near the skirts of the hills, not far from Samarah, suddenly
an attack was made upon them. The rearguard found itself violently
assailed; and when Julian hastened to its relief, news came that the van
was also engaged with the enemy, and was already in difficulties. The
active commander now hurried towards the front, and had accomplished
half the distance, when the main Persian attack was delivered upon his
right centre, and to his dismay he found himself entangled amid the
masses of heavy horse and elephants, which had thrown his columns into
confusion. The suddenness of the enemy’s appearance had prevented him
from donning his complete armor; and as he fought without a breastplate,
and with the aid of his light-armed troops restored the day, falling on
the foe from behind and striking the backs and houghs of the horses and
elephants, the javelin of a horseman, after grazing the flesh of his
arm, fixed itself in his right side, penetrating-through the ribs to
the liver. Julian, grasping the head of the weapon, attempted to draw
it forth, but in vain--the sharp steel cut his fingers, and the pain and
loss of blood caused him to fall fainting from his steed. His guards,
who had closed around him, carefully raised him up, and conveyed him to
the camp, where the surgeons at once declared the wound mortal. The sad
news spread rapidly among the soldiery, and nerved them to desperate
efforts--if they must lose their general, he should, they determined,
be avenged. Striking their shields with their spears, they everywhere
rushed upon the enemy with incredible ardor, careless whether they lived
or died, and only seeking to inflict the greatest possible loss on those
opposed to them. But the Persians, who had regarded the day as theirs,
resisted strenuously, and maintained the fight with obstinacy till
evening closed in and darkness put a stop to the engagement. The losses
were large on both sides; the Roman right wing had suffered greatly; its
commander, Anatolius, master of the offices, was among the slain, and
the prefect Sallust was with difficulty saved by an attendant. The
Persians, too, lost their generals Meranes and Nohodares; and with them
no fewer than fifty satraps and great nobles are said to have perished.
The rank and file no doubt suffered in proportion; and the Romans were
perhaps justified in claiming that the balance of advantage upon the day
rested with them. But such advantage as they could reasonably assert was
far more than counterbalanced by the loss of their commander, who died
in his tent towards midnight on the day of the battle. Whatever we
may think of the general character of Julian, or of the degree of his
intellectual capacity, there can be no question as to his excellence as
a soldier, or his ability as a commander in the field. If the
expedition which he had led into Persia was to some extent rash--if his
preparations for it had been insufficient, and his conduct of it not
wholly faultless; if consequently he had brought the army of the East
into a situation of great peril and difficulty--yet candor requires us
to acknowledge that of all the men collected in the Roman camp he was
the fittest to have extricated the army from its embarrassments, and
have conducted it, without serious disaster or loss of honor, into a
position of safety. No one, like Julian, possessed the confidence of
the troops; no one so combined experience in command with the personal
activity and vigor that was needed under the circumstances. When the
leaders met to consult about the appointment of a successor to the dead
prince, it was at once apparent how irreparable was their loss. The
prefect Sallust, whose superior rank and length of service pointed him
out for promotion to the vacant post, excused himself on account of
his age and infirmities. The generals of the second grade--Arinthseus,
Victor, Nevitta, Dagalaiphus--had each their party among the soldiers,
but were unacceptable to the army generally. None could claim any
superior merit which might clearly place him above the rest; and a
discord that might have led to open strife seemed impending, when a
casual voice pronounced the name of Jovian, and, some applause following
the suggestion, the rival generals acquiesced in the choice; and this
hitherto insignificant officer was suddenly invested with the purple and
saluted as “Augustus” and “Emperor.” Had there been any one really fit
to take the command, such an appointment could not have been made; but,
in the evident dearth of warlike genius, it was thought best that one
whose rank was civil rather than military should be preferred, for the
avoidance of jealousies and contentions. A deserter carried the news to
Sapor, who was not now very far distant, and described the new emperor
to him as effeminate and slothful. A fresh impulse was given to the
pursuit by the intelligence thus conveyed; the army engaged in disputing
the Roman retreat was reinforced by a strong body of cavalry; and Sapor
himself pressed forward with all haste, resolved to hurl his main force
on the rear of the retreating columns.
It was with reluctance that Jovian, on the day of his elevation to the
supreme power (June 27, A.D. 363), quitted the protection of the
camp, and proceeded to conduct his army over the open plain, where the
Persians were now collected in great force, prepared to dispute the
ground with him inch by inch. Their horse and elephants again fell upon
the right wing of the Romans, where the Jovians and Herculians were now
posted, and, throwing those renowned corps into disorder, pressed
on, driving them across the plain in headlong flight and slaying vast
numbers of them. The corps would probably have been annihilated, had
they not in their flight reached a hill occupied by the baggage
train, which gallantly came to their aid, and, attacking the horse and
elephants from higher ground, gained a signal success. The elephants,
wounded by the javelins hurled down upon them from above, and maddened
with the pain, turned upon their own side, and, roaring frightfully,
carried confusion among the ranks of the horse, which broke up and fled.
Many of the frantic animals were killed by their own riders or by the
Persians on whom they were trampling, while others succumbed to the
blows dealt them by the enemy. There was a frightful carnage, ending
in the repulse of the Persians and the resumption of the Roman march.
Shortly before night fell, Jovian and his army reached Samarah, then a
fort of no great size upon the Tigris, and, encamping in its vicinity,
passed the hours of rest unmolested. The retreat now continued for four
days along the left bank of the Tigris, the progress made each day being
small, since the enemy incessantly obstructed the march, pressing on
the columns as they retired, but when they stopped drawing off, and
declining an engagement at close quarters. On one occasion they even
attacked the Roman camp, and, after insulting the legions with their
cries, forced their way through the preatorian gate, and had nearly
penetrated to the royal tent, when they were met and defeated by the
legionaries. The Saracenic Arabs were especially troublesome. Offended
by the refusal of Julian to continue their subsidies, they had
transferred their services wholly to the other side, and pursued
the Romans with a hostility that was sharpened by indignation and
resentment. It was with difficulty that the Roman army, at the close
of the fourth day, reached Dura, a small place upon the Tigris, about
eighteen miles north of Samarah. Here a new idea seized the soldiers. As
the Persian forces were massed chiefly on the left bank of the Tigris,
and might find it difficult to transfer themselves to the other side, it
seemed to the legionaries that they would escape half their difficulties
if they could themselves cross the river, and place it between them and
their foes. They had also a notion that on the west side of the stream
the Roman frontier was not far distent, but might be reached by forced
marches in a few days. They therefore begged Jovian to allow them to
swim the stream. It was in vain that he and his officers opposed
the project; mutinous cries arose; and, to avoid worse evils, he was
compelled to consent that five hundred Gauls and Sarmatians, known to be
expert swimmers, should make the attempt. It succeeded beyond his hopes.
The corps crossed at night, surprised the Persians who held the opposite
bank, and established themselves in a safe position before the dawn of
day. By this bold exploit the passage of the other troops, many of whom
could not swim, was rendered feasible, and Jovian proceeded to collect
timber, brushwood, and skins for the formation of large rafts on which
he might transport the rest of his army.
These movements were seen with no small disquietude by the Persian king.
The army which he had regarded as almost a certain prey seemed about
to escape him. He knew that his troops could not pass the Tigris by
swimming; he had, it is probable, brought with him no boats, and the
country about Dura could not supply many; to follow the Romans, if they
crossed the stream, he must construct a bridge, and the construction
of a bridge was, to such unskilful engineers as the Persians, a work of
time. Before it was finished the legions might be beyond his reach, and
so the campaign would end, and he would have gained no advantage from
it. Under these circumstances he determined to open negotiations with
the Romans, and to see if he could not extract from their fears some
important concessions. They were still in a position of great peril,
since they could not expect to embark and cross the stream without
suffering tremendous loss from the enemy before whom they would be
flying. And it was uncertain what perils they might not encounter beyond
the river in traversing the two hundred miles that still separated them
from Roman territory. The Saracenic allies of Persia were in force on
the further side of the stream; and a portion of Sapor’s army might
be conveyed across in time to hang on the rear of the legions and add
largely to their difficulties. At any rate, it was worth while to
make overtures and see what answer would be returned. If the idea of
negotiating were entertained at all, something would be gained; for each
additional day of suffering and privation diminished the Roman strength,
and brought nearer the moment of absolute and complete exhaustion.
Moreover, a bridge might be at once commenced at some little distance,
and might be pushed forward, so that, if the negotiations failed, there
should be no great delay in following the Romans across the river.
Such were probably the considerations which led Sapor to send as envoys
to the Roman camp at Dura the Surena and another great noble, who
announced that they came to offer terms of peace. The great king, they
said, having respect to the mutability of human affairs, was desirous
of dealing mercifully with the Romans, and would allow the escape of
the remnant which was left of their army, if the Caesar and his advisers
accepted the conditions that he required. These conditions would be
explained to any envoys whom Jovian might empower to discuss them with
the Persian plenipotentiaries. The Roman emperor and his council
gladly caught at the offer; and two officers of high rank, the general
Arinthseus and the prefect Sallust, were at once appointed to confer
with Sapor’s envoys, and ascertain the terms on which peace would
be granted. They proved to be such as Roman pride felt to be almost
intolerable; and great efforts were made to induce Sapor to be content
with less. The negotiations lasted for four days; but the Persian
monarch was inexorable; each day diminished his adversary’s strength and
bettered his own position; there was no reason why he should make any
concession at all; and he seems, in fact, to have yielded nothing of his
original demands, except points of such exceedingly slight moment that
to insist on them would have been folly.
The following were the terms of peace to which Jovian consented. First,
the five provinces east of the Tigris, which had been ceded to Rome by
Narses, the grandfather of Sapor, after his defeat by Galerius, were to
be given back to Persia, with their fortifications, their inhabitants,
and all that they contained of value. The Romans in the territory were,
however, to be allowed to withdraw and join their countrymen. Secondly,
three places in Eastern Mesopotamia, Nisibis, Singara, and a fort called
“the Camp of the Moors,” were to be surrendered, but with the condition
that not only the Romans, but the inhabitants generally, might retire
ere the Persians took possession, and carry with them such of their
effects as were movable. The surrender of these places necessarily
involved that of the country which they commanded, and can scarcely
imply less than the withdrawal of Rome from any claim to dominion over
the region between the Tigris and the Khabour. Thirdly, all connection
between Armenia and Rome was to be broken off; Arsaces was to be left
to his own resources; and in any quarrel between him and Persia Rome
was precluded from lending him aid. On these conditions a peace
was concluded for thirty years; oaths to observe it faithfully were
interchanged; and hostages were given and received on either side, to be
retained until the stipulations of the treaty were executed.
The Roman historian who exclaims that it would have been better to have
fought ten battles than to have conceded a single one of these shameful
terms, commands the sympathy of every reader, who cannot fail to
recognize in his utterance the natural feeling of a patriot. And it is
possible that Julian, had he lived, would have rejected so inglorious a
peace, and have preferred to run all risks rather than sign it. But in
that case there is every reason to believe that the army would have been
absolutely destroyed, and a few stragglers only have returned to tell
the tale of disaster. The alternative which Ammianus suggests--that
Jovian, instead of negotiating, should have pushed on to Cordyene, which
he might have reached in four days--is absurd; for Cordyeno was at least
a hundred and fifty miles distant from Dura, and, at the rate of retreat
which Jovian had found possible (four and a half miles a day), would
have been reached in three days over a month! The judgment of Eutropius,
who, like Ammianus, shared in the expedition, is probably correct--that
the peace, though disgraceful, was necessary. Unless Jovian was prepared
to risk not only his own life, but the lives of all his soldiers, it was
essential that he should come to terms; and the best terms that he could
obtain were those which he has been blamed for accepting.
It is creditable to both parties that the peace, once made, was
faithfully observed, all its stipulations being honestly and speedily
executed. The Romans were allowed to pass the river without molestation
from Sapor’s army, and, though they suffered somewhat from the Saracens
when landing on the other side, were unpursued in their retreat, and
were perhaps even, at first, supplied to some extent with provisions.
Afterwards, no doubt, they endured for some days great privations; but
a convoy with stores was allowed to advance from Roman Mesopotamia into
Persian territory, which met the famished soldiers at a Persian military
post, called Ur or Adur, and relieved their most pressing necessities.
On the Roman side, the ceded provinces and towns were quietly
surrendered; offers on the part of the inhabitants to hold their own
against the Persians without Roman aid were refused; the Roman troops
were withdrawn from the fortresses; and the Armenians were told that
they must henceforth rely upon themselves, and not look to Rome for
help or protection. Thus Jovian, though strongly urged to follow ancient
precedent, and refuse to fulfil the engagements contracted under the
pressure of imminent peril, stood firm, and honorably performed all the
conditions of the treaty. The second period of struggle between Rome
and Persia had thus a termination exactly the reverse of the first.
Rome ended the first period by a great victory and a great diplomatic
success. At the close of the second she had to relinquish all her
gains, and to draw back even behind the line which she occupied when
hostilities first broke out. Nisibis, the great stronghold of Eastern
Mesopotamia, had been in her possession ever since the time of Verus.
Repeatedly attacked by Parthia and Persia, it had never fallen; but
once, after which it had been soon recovered; and now for many years it
had come to be regarded as the bulwark of the Roman power in the East,
and as carrying with it the dominion of Western Asia.102 A fatal blow
was dealt to Roman prestige when a city held for near two hundred years,
and one honored with the name of “colony,” was wrested from the empire
and occupied by the most powerful of its adversaries. Not only Amida and
Carrhae, but Antioch itself, trembled at a loss which was felt to lay
open the whole eastern frontier to attack, and which seemed ominous of
further retrogression. Although the fear generally felt proved to be
groundless, and the Roman possessions in the East were not, for 200
years, further curtailed by the Persians, yet Roman influence in Western
Asia from this time steadily declined, and Persia came to be regarded
as the first power in these regions. Much credit is due to Sapor II. for
his entire conduct of the war with Constantius, Julian, and Jovian. He
knew when to attack and when to remain upon the defensive, when to
press on the enemy and when to hold himself in reserve and let the
enemy follow his own devices. He rightly conceived from the first the
importance of Nisibis, and resolutely persisted in his determination to
acquire possession of it, until at last he succeeded. When, in A.D. 337,
he challenged Rome to a trial of strength, he might have seemed rash
and presumptuous. But the event justified him. In a war which lasted
twenty-seven years, he fought numerous pitched battles with the Romans,
and was never once defeated. He proved himself greatly superior as
a general to Constantius and Jovian, and not unequal to Julian. By a
combination of courage, perseverance, and promptness, he brought the
entire contest to a favorable issue, and restored Persia, in A.D.
363, to a higher position than that from which she had descended two
generations earlier. If he had done nothing more than has already come
under our notice, he would still have amply deserved that epithet of
“Great” which, by the general consent of historians, has been assigned
to him. He was undoubtedly among the greatest of the Sassanian monarchs,
and may properly be placed above all his predecessors, and above all but
one of those who succeeded him.