The Poison King: The Life and Legend of Mithradates, Rome's Deadliest Enemy

by Adrienne Mayor

  The widespread belief in the ancient Near East that heavenly fire or light would announce the birth of a redeemer helps explain another story told about Mithradates. When he was a baby, lightning struck his cradle. Mithradates was unharmed, but the lightning left a distinctive scar—in the shape of a diadem or crown—on his forehead. Some said the lightning strike inspired his nickname, Dionysus, after the Greek god of liberation, change, and new beginnings. Dionysus had been marked for greatness by Zeus’s divine lightning while still in the womb. Mithradates used this name in his propaganda and placed Dionysus’s image on his coins—an immediately recognizable symbol of opposition to Rome. The god’s worship had been banned by the Roman Senate in 186 BC, because of Dionysus’s association with slave revolts and foreign rebellions.17

  In Greco-Roman popular lore, a nonfatal lightning strike promised great distinction and fame. Similar beliefs held in the East too. According to the writings of the Magi (Persian Zoroastrian priest-astronomers), the savior-king was to be distinguished by a special mark on his body. The Magi in his father’s palace saw Mithradates’ lightning scar as a sign of divine approval; the diadem shape meant the gods had “crowned” him at birth. Many figures in history, myth, and legend have been marked for eminence by a bolt of lightning, from King Darius I of Persia and Alexander of Macedon to Harry Potter of Hogwarts. Mithradates’ lightning story is unverifiable, of course, but it’s not impossible: two out of three people stuck by lightning do survive. What is significant is that all these accumulating omens, prophecies, oracles, mythic traditions, and extraordinary natural phenomena were coalescing around the time of Mithradates. He was uniquely placed to take advantage of these converging Eastern and Western beliefs.18

  ROYAL BLOOD

  Another Mithradatic claim long rejected as fable turns out to receive support in genealogical and historical evidence. Mithradates traced his father’s bloodline to Persian kings and his mother’s family to Alexander the Great. He also declared that his ancestral lands had been bestowed by Darius I, the great Achaemenid ruler who had consolidated the vast Persian Empire (d. 486 BC). It has been widely assumed by modern scholars that propagandists invented this noble ancestry for Mithradates.

  Macedonian and Persian family trees are tangled, and further complicated by the ancient practice of reusing the same royal names over many generations. (Luckily, nicknames were common, and sometimes people had more than one, like Mithradates Eupator Dionysus). Two classical historians recently reevaluated the evidence in the ancient sources pertaining to Mithradates’ heritage. Their investigation reveals that Mithradates’ paternal line was in all probability related by blood to Darius I, who had married two daughters and a granddaughter of Cyrus Vazraka, “the Great,” founder of the Persian Empire. So Mithradates’ claim to descend from Cyrus and Darius was not mere propaganda. Darius had granted a fiefdom to Mithradates’ ancestors, which became a powerful satrapy (provincial governorship) centered in the ancient Greek city of Sinope, in Pontus on the Black Sea.

  What about the Alexandrian lineage? Mithradates was related to Barsiné, a Persian princess captured by Alexander after the Battle of Issus in 333 BC. Barsiné had a son with Alexander and resided in Pergamon, where she maintained ties with Mithradates’ family. Mithradates’ mother, Laodice, a princess from Antioch (Syria), was a descendant of Alexander’s Macedonian general Seleucus Nicator, the founder of the new Macedonian-Persian Empire, stretching from Anatolia and central Asia to Babylonia and Iran.19

  It was Alexander’s dream to meld Greek and Persian bloodlines and cultures as the foundation for a magnificent hybrid civilization. After Alexander’s conquest of Persia, marriage alliances were carried out on a grand scale among Macedonian and Persian aristocrats. Laodice’s kinship to Alexander is plausible, since Macedonian nobles shared bloodlines, but impossible to prove or disprove. Modern DNA studies show that the genetic material of powerful rulers, such as Genghis Khan, was generously dispersed in numerous unofficial offspring. This common practice, along with the custom of large harems for Macedonian and Persian royalty, gives further support to Mithradates’ claim to be the heir—by blood, land, and ideals—of the greatest rulers of Greece and Persia.

  As with the comets and oracles, what really matters is that Mithradates’ illustrious ancestry was unquestioned in antiquity. Mithradates himself, his supporters, and his enemies all saw him as the living embodiment of Alexander’s vision of Persian-Greek fusion.

  Until the end of his life, Mithradates cherished a cloak believed to have belonged to Alexander. How could Mithradates have obtained such a relic? Was the robe handed down in his mother’s noble Macedonian family? Or did Barsiné present her lover’s mantle to Mithradates’ relatives in Pergamon? The ancient historian Appian inadvertently provides a clue. Appian says that after Mithradates’ death in 63 BC, the Romans discovered Alexander’s cloak in Mithradates’ castle, among the treasures that Mithradates had received from Cleopatra III, wife of Ptolemy VIII of Egypt. During a succession crisis in Egypt, this queen had stored her treasures for safekeeping on the island of Cos. Some years later in 88 BC, the year of the great massacre of the Romans, Cos turned over these treasures to Mithradates. But how could a mantle belonging to Alexander the Great come to be among Cleopatra III’s treasures?

  Genealogical detective work provides an answer. Cleopatra, her husband, and her father were all direct descendants of Alexander’s best friend and general, Ptolemy. When Alexander died in 323 BC in Babylon, Ptolemy hijacked the corpse—and presumably his cloak—to Egypt, in order to support his claim to be Alexander’s successor. Cleopatra’s husband may well have inherited this precious relic from his Macedonian ancestors.20

  Again, however, the robe’s true provenance is irrelevant. Everyone, including the Romans, believed that Mithradates had inherited Alexander’s mantle, and that it was an authentic physical link to Alexander. To wear Alexander’s cloak was not merely symbolic for Mithradates. In ancient Persian court rituals, the robe or khilat of a venerated person or ruler was thought to transmit the owner’s personal qualities and authority. Cyrus the Great presented his fine purple robe to his most beloved friend; Darius III dreamed that Alexander wore his royal robe; numerous other examples of the ritual (dorophorike in ancient Greek) appear in Old Testament and other Near Eastern writings. This ancient concept is the basis of well-known legends about Saint Paul’s cloak and the robe worn by Jesus. The idea lives on today in our phrases “to assume the mantle” and “to vest power,” and in the desire to possess clothing worn by cult figures. Two striking modern examples occurred in 2006. In Lebanon, Shi’ite Muslims flocked to see the abaya or robe worn by the Hezbollah leader Nasrallah, displayed in several cities. Meanwhile in the United States, the fabulous gold lamé cape worn by Elvis Presley (“The King”) received high bids in a celebrity auction (Presley’s cape was decorated with a sequined comet design).21

  By Mithradates’ time, Alexander’s life had achieved cult status, and—as we shall see—Mithradates shared many notable commonalities with his idol. Some resemblances were real, others were embroidered with legend, but Mithradates’ followers saw every parallel as proof of his glorious destiny.22

  THE MYTHIC HERO SCRIPT

  Precious little is known about Mithradates’ youth. Curiously, however, an obscure childhood is typical of larger-than-life individuals whose exploits become legendary. What we do know about Mithradates’ early years comes from a few passages in Justin and passing remarks by other ancient historians. Some of the episodes in these accounts sound like the stuff of fairy tales. This has led modern historians to reject several events in Mithradates’ life as propaganda fabricated after the fact by his supporters.23

  Some suspicion is justified. Mithradates was keenly aware of his public image, and some loyalists were experts in manipulating public relations. Yet many unusual details in the king’s life are accepted as true, supported by historical and archaeological evidence. Some incidents are likely or plausible. Other anecdotes
seem extraordinary—yet none are impossible. But the meaning of Mithradates’ compelling life story goes beyond political propaganda. What is truly striking is that his biography parallels a standard sequence of incidents typically found in the life stories of mythic heroes across different times and cultures.

  The universal pattern of “hero-defining” attributes of legendary and historical personages was first recognized by psychologist Otto Rank and comparative myth scholar Fitzroy Raglan. Their model has been refined and applied to dozens of heroic figures in myth, history, and popular culture around the world, from antiquity to the present. Appendix 1 lists the twenty-three features that distinguish mythic heroes. There are variations in how different scholars interpret key events in individual lives, but folklorists have calculated the mythic-hero scores of, for example, Moses, Oedipus, and Cyrus the Great (20–23 points); Jesus, Muhammad, Hercules, and King Arthur (18–20); Alexander the Great, Buddha, Joan of Arc, and Robin Hood (13–16); Harry Potter (14); Spartacus (12); and John F. Kennedy (5).24

  Since antiquity, Mithradates has been admired by many as a champion of anti-imperialism, despite his eventual defeat. But modern Western historians tend to cast Mithradates as Rome’s evil “Oriental” nemesis, rather than a heroic figure. Perhaps that’s why no one has ever thought to calculate Mithradates’ rating on the archetypal hero index. How does his story measure up by the established criteria for immortal legend?

  The points add up quickly. Prophecies predicted Mithradates’ birth and rise to power. His father, King Mithradates V, and his mother, Laodice, a princess, may have been related through intertwined Persian-Macedonian family trees. Conceived under the rare comet of 135 BC, the infant Mithradates survived a lightning strike. He was associated with the gods Mithra and Dionysus, and—like Alexander the Great—he claimed Hercules as a divine ancestor. As a youngster, Mithradates eluded murder plots by his guardians, by experimenting with antidotes, ultimately inventing a secret potion that protected against all poisons. As a teenager, Mithradates disappeared. For seven years no one knew whether the crown prince of Pontus was dead or alive. As the following pages will reveal, by the time he was a young man, Mithradates had already tallied an impressive score of 10 on the mythic hero scale. Without giving away what transpires, over his long and dramatic lifetime Mithradates fulfilled all the remaining requirements of the mythic hero index, for a perfect score of 23 (see appendix 1).

  Historical personages for whom there are complete written records normally rate 5–10 points. Mithradates’ high score indicates that many aspects of his life were preserved orally, in popular lore. Some events (comets and prophecies, ancestry, toxicological experiments, horsemanship) are documented, while other stories coalesced around grains of truth, or were exaggerated or made up—although nothing reported in the sources is beyond belief. Mithradates was brilliant at presenting himself as the savior of Greek and Persian civilization and the scourge of Rome. Undoubtedly he encouraged favorable interpretations of oracles and omens, assassination attempts, narrow escapes, notable feats, gallant deeds, and other actual events to his advantage. But much of what historians assume were deliberate falsehoods dreamed up as propaganda were more likely the result of a gradual, natural process. In the “Snowball Effect” of oral tradition, the actual facts of Mithradates’ life mingled with probable and then with plausible events. Between romance and reality, propaganda and plausibility, lies the real story. As we consider what seem like improbable events in Mithradates’ story, it’s worth keeping in mind that, in scientific probability/possibility theory, probability applies only to the future, not to past events. Even if something reported in the past had small odds of occurring, that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Over time, of course, Mithradates’ story accumulated more and more narrative details that conformed to the heroic archetype. Mithradates’ high score is the result of the accretion of mythic motifs in oral tradition around actual events; contemporary public relations; and a genuinely remarkable life.25

  One senses that Mithradates himself understood the mythic hero script and endeavored to live it out. The circumstances of his birth and many other events were beyond his control, of course, yet from a very early age it seems that Mithradates self-consciously cast himself as the hero of his own epic saga. As a child, Mithradates heard the oracles surrounding his birth and absorbed the life stories of illustrious ancestors and other role models from myth and history. Hidden under his curly bangs was the special lightning scar shaped like a diadem. It would be no wonder if Mithradates came to think of himself as a mythic hero and resolved to behave like one. Most of the crucial elements of the heroic plotline were readily available to him, two millennia before modern myth scholars recognized the Persian king Cyrus the Great as the epitome of the historical hero. Another real-life idol, Alexander, followed the heroic pattern, which is also prominent in the myths of the divine Mithra, Dionysus, and Hercules.26

  Folklorists have a word to describe the way real-life actions can be guided by legends: ostension. Ostension explains how widely known myths and legends sometimes shape ordinary people’s behavior patterns, leading them to enact or perform certain elements from mythic narratives, thereby translating fiction into fact. Events inspire stories and stories influence events.27 The concept of ostension is another reason why some episodes in Mithradates’ life story appear to mirror Greek myths and theater. If Mithradates was guided by something like a mythic hero script, that helps explain his phenomenal self-confidence and ability to surge back after crushing losses. Mithradates’ belief that he was a hero in the classical mold, marked from birth for a glorious destiny, was a wellspring of his perseverance and resourcefulness in times of crisis. He was determined to be remembered for all time.

  Mithradates was not introduced to his father until he was five years old (a Persian custom intended to protect the king from grief should his son die in infancy). Until then, the little prince lived with his mother, Queen Laodice, and concubines and children in the harem. Mithradates listened to exciting myths and legends recounted by the women and their guardians and confidants, the eunuchs—castrated males who served as trusted attendants, generals, and powerful advisers in Persian-influenced courts. Notably, of the many names of eunuchs that have survived from antiquity, half are from Mithradates’ reign, a fact that reminds us of the constant court intrigues in this era.28 Indeed, palace conspirators would plot to do away with the young ruler after the untimely death of his father. But that was still in the future. While the old king still lived, he oversaw his heir’s education. As soon as the boy celebrated his fifth birthday, tutors began his immersion in classical Greek lessons and the Persian essentials of kingship.

  3

  Education of a Young Hero

  THEY mounted the boy on the wide back of the high-strung stallion. Whirling and bucking, the horse galloped away with the little rider gripping the reins and his child-size javelin. The prince was only ten, but husky and tall for his age. He’d been riding horses since age five. But this steed, fresh from the high pastures of Cappadocia, was not yet broken. As the horse raced across the field, Mithradates seemed in peril of being thrown—but somehow he hung on. He managed to control the horse and hurl his spear with force and skill surprising in someone so young.

  FIG. 3.1. Small boy on a high-spirited horse, life-size Hellenistic bronze sculpture from time of Mithradates, ca. 150–125 BC. National Archaeological Museum, Athens, Greece. Vanni/Art Resource, NY.

  Some in the palace suspected that the young prince had survived a plot to arrange a fatal riding accident. Perhaps they thanked Pegasus, the boy’s protector. Others may have recalled that the god Mithra always showed favor to a new ruler by sending a horse omen. Some Greek grooms might have whispered that malevolent ghosts, taraxippoi (“horse-frighteners,” the spirits of dead charioteers), spooked the animal. Everyone was reminded of the young Alexander the Great, who had impressed his elders by taming a wild horse.1

  Aside from Justin’s vignette of the clo
se call with the bucking horse, most of Mithradates’ childhood is a blank. Ancient writers described the adult Mithradates’ extraordinary size, strength, and stamina; his gargantuan appetites, earthy humor, and sexual preferences. All agree that he was a brilliant military strategist, fluent in many languages, a courageous fighter, and a gifted toxicologist. A cultured patron of music and the arts, the king loved spectacle and grandiose gestures. There is ample evidence of Mithradates’ implacable hatred of Rome, pride in his Persian-Greek ancestry, and his imitation of Alexander the Great. His noble ideals and charismatic—and often paranoid—personality are well attested, as are the striking contradictions in his character. As king, Mithradates could be merciful or ruthless, chivalrous yet cruel. By filling in the gaps and fleshing out scenes in the incomplete ancient accounts with known facts and evidence about Mithradates’ time and place, and by working back from what what we know about the man, we can imagine the boy.2

  This approach raises new questions about Mithradates. What shaped his character and public persona? Who—besides Alexander and Cyrus the Great—were his models? Which mythic, historic, and current events made strong impressions? Why such deep animosity toward Rome? What were his ultimate goals? What inspired his scientific pursuits? What was the origin of his search for the perfect antidote? First, let’s set the scene in Sinope, where young Mithradates received his education, then consider some likely influences during his formative years.