Death of Crassus: the gory demise of Rome's richest man

Marcus Licinius Crassus' fortune, derived largely from property speculation and fire-sale acquisitions during Rome’s frequent urban disasters, had given him near-total control over the real estate market.

Crassus had operated his own private firefighting crew, which he had used to manipulate owners into selling damaged buildings at low prices before he sent his crews to put out the fires.

He had thousands of slaves trained in construction. He had quickly rebuilt these properties and leased them at high rents, which expanded his empire across the city and into the provinces. 

During Sulla’s proscriptions, which began in 82 BCE, Crassus had acquired even more wealth by purchasing the confiscated properties of condemned men.

This had enriched him further and had secured the loyalty of business associates among the equestrian class, whose financial interests he later protected through favourable laws.

Valerius Maximus noted his exploitation of such opportunities. As a result of these efforts, ancient estimates placed his personal fortune at more than 200 million sesterces, with Pliny the Elder recording this figure in his Natural History.

While this had made him extremely wealthy by Roman standards, such estimates may reflect exaggeration more than precise economic measurement. 

Although financial success had brought power, Crassus had also sought public recognition.

His suppression of the Spartacus revolt in 71 BCE, when he had commanded eight legions, restored order after Rome had suffered a series of setbacks.

However, when Pompey had returned from Spain and claimed to have ended the war by intercepting fleeing slaves, Crassus saw his victory eclipsed by Pompey’s public claims. 

Crassus had entered the political arena driven by political aims that surpassed personal enrichment, and he had pursued positions of influence in a Republic where competition among elites had grown more intense.

Elected consul in 70 BCE alongside Pompey, he had shared power with a man whose military achievements outshone his own, creating a rivalry that simmered beneath their forced cooperation. 

Although both men had secured popular reforms during their joint consulship, their alliance had remained fragile.

Crassus distrusted Pompey’s reputation as a general who had never held the cursus honorum in proper order, having skipped earlier magistracies such as quaestor and praetor, and he resented the Senate’s repeated praise for Pompey’s campaigns abroad.

At the same time, Crassus had worked to undermine his colleague through backroom deals and behind-the-scenes manipulation of key political figures, especially through his patronage of influential equestrians and tribunes such as Labienus and Vatinius. 

The rise of Julius Caesar as a political force had provided Crassus with an opportunity to regain influence.

In 60 BCE, he had entered into the First Triumvirate with Caesar and Pompey, forming a political pact that bypassed traditional senatorial power structures.

Crassus had used this alliance to advance his commercial interests, securing tax rebates for publicani and influencing provincial assignments, particularly in Asia.

Yet he had remained excluded from military affairs, as Caesar’s conquests in Gaul and Pompey’s triumphs in the East attracted the public’s admiration. 

Tensions between the triumvirs had increased after Julia, Caesar’s daughter and Pompey’s wife, died in childbirth in 54 BCE.

With the personal bond between Caesar and Pompey severed, Crassus saw an opportunity to gain his own command and military glory.

When he had secured the governorship of Syria during his second consulship in 55 BCE, he turned his attention to the Parthian Empire, seeking victory in a region where no Roman general had yet triumphed. 

Crassus had believed that conquest in the East would restore his prestige and elevate him to the level of his powerful colleagues, yet he had set out on this campaign without senatorial approval and over the objections of many in Rome.

By ignoring diplomatic rules and refusing offers of allied support from neighbouring Armenian forces under King Artavasdes II, he had shown pride that proved catastrophic. 

In the spring of 54 BCE, he had crossed the Euphrates River with seven legions, several thousand cavalry, and numerous auxiliary troops, likely numbering between 35,000 and 40,000 legionaries in total.

His initial operations had involved the capture of minor settlements along the frontier, and he had established Roman garrisons in the region before returning to winter quarters in Syria.

During this time, Artavasdes urged him to redirect his campaign through the mountainous regions near Artaxata, which offered better protection against Parthian cavalry.

Crassus dismissed this advice and instead chose a more direct but exposed route through the flat plains of northern Mesopotamia. 

By May of 53 BCE, he had advanced deep into unfamiliar territory, driven by the belief that Parthian resistance would collapse under the pressure of Roman infantry.

However, he had done little scouting and lacked accurate intelligence about enemy movements.

Parthian commander Surena, a nobleman from the powerful House of Suren, had assembled a very mobile force of horse archers and cataphracts, who prepared to meet the Romans near the town of Carrhae. 

Crassus’ army had entered the dry plains around Carrhae under a blazing sun and without adequate water supplies or knowledge of the area.

The Parthians had hidden their main force and revealed their strength only when Crassus had committed to battle.

Surena’s archers had used tactics that were designed to frustrate and wear down the slow-moving Roman infantry, and they had launched wave after wave of arrows from a distance out of reach of Roman pila.

Camels carried spare quivers to supply them. 

Roman troops, trained for close combat, found themselves unable to engage the enemy.

The Parthians withdrew just far enough to avoid confrontation while continuing to fire from behind a wall of cavalry.

When the Romans had attempted to break the encirclement, they found themselves exhausted by the heat and weighed down by their equipment.

Crassus had lacked the ability to change his tactics and had lacked the cavalry strength to disrupt the enemy’s movements. 

In a desperate effort to regain control, Crassus ordered his son Publius to lead a group of cavalry and auxiliaries in a counterattack.

Publius was considered brave and capable, but charged ahead with what ancient sources suggest was a smaller force, including approximately 1,300 cavalry and 500 archers.

Although some modern writers have speculated that these included Gallic horsemen from Caesar’s former campaigns, ancient texts do not confirm this connection.

Lured into an ambush, they were quickly overwhelmed. Surena’s men surrounded them and launched a rain of arrows, followed by a cavalry assault that ended in slaughter.

Publius took his own life to avoid capture, and the Parthians returned with his severed head mounted on a spear. 

The sight of his son’s head shattered Crassus’ will. Roman morale collapsed as the Parthians resumed their barrage throughout the night, and by morning, the Roman position had become untenable.

With no food or water and with hope of reinforcement extinguished, Crassus agreed to negotiate with Surena in the hope of securing a safe withdrawal. 

The negotiation that followed ended in disaster. Ancient sources, though inconsistent in detail, agree that Parthian officers had lured Crassus into a meeting under the pretext of peace.

During the exchange, arguments broke out. Some claimed it involved a dispute over terms.

Others said that Roman officers such as Octavius and Petronius provoked the confrontation.

Crassus died either in the struggle that had ensued or shortly afterward at the hands of Parthian soldiers. 

Plutarch, who wrote in the early 2nd century CE, alleged that the Parthians had mocked Crassus’ obsession with wealth and had poured molten gold down his throat after his death.

He wrote, “He thirsted for gold, let him drink his fill.” Though highly symbolic and probably fictional, the story captured Roman contempt for those who valued riches more than honour.

Other sources claimed that Surena had used Crassus’ head in a theatrical show at the Armenian court.

According to Plutarch, it had been displayed during a performance of The Bacchae, and, according to Roman writers, it had later been presented to King Orodes II.

This sequence of events showed the humiliation inflicted on Roman prestige. 

Roman losses had likely exceeded 20,000 killed, with another 10,000 taken prisoner and later resettled in distant regions, possibly as far as Margiana in modern Turkmenistan, according to Plutarch and Cassius Dio.

Exact figures are debated among modern scholars. Nevertheless, Carrhae became one of the most notorious defeats in Roman memory because of the loss of a major army and because the enemy had defeated a Roman consul in open battle and then mistreated his body.

Although other Roman defeats had involved higher casualties, the symbolic and political consequences of Carrhae were especially severe. 

Reliable details surrounding Crassus’ final moments are hard to confirm due to the passage of time, the absence of Parthian sources, and the literary style of Roman historians.

Writers like Plutarch and Cassius Dio constructed narratives that served moral or political aims, and they often exaggerated the behaviour of figures they considered examples of vice.

In Crassus’ case, his endless greed and lack of military talent made him a convenient subject for ridicule. 

Without records from the Parthian side, modern scholars must rely on Roman texts written decades later.

Archaeology in the region offers little to clarify what happened during or after the battle, and no independent evidence exists to confirm the stories of theatrical humiliation or molten gold. 

Nevertheless, the consequences of the defeat at Carrhae were real and immediate. Crassus’ death had ended the fragile balance within the First Triumvirate, had allowed tensions between Caesar and Pompey to grow unchecked, and had paved the way for the civil war that eventually brought an end to the Republic.

His failure to heed advice, prepare adequately, or see the limitations of his command had not simply cost him his life, and it had weakened Rome itself.