As the Scordisci had their way in Macedonia, the Senate was forced to send legion after legion for the next two years. One of the Metelli cousins led the Roman armies in 113 and the following year he was succeeded by our old friend Marcus Livius Drusus, the crafty tribune who successfully undercut Gaius Gracchus during their shared tribunate a decade earlier. Now a consul, Drusus successfully brought the conflict to a close, ending his year on campaign with a major victory that finally pushed the Scordisci out of Roman territory. The Scordisci remained a constant threat, however, so in 110 the Senate had to send yet another consul to aggressively patrol the Macedonian border against further invasion.9
With the Scordisci running amok in Macedonia and Greece, and the huge mob of Cimbri wandering around near the Alps, the Senate prioritized the stability of the northern border during these years. The crisis in the north certainly helps explain the Senate’s anemic response to Jugurtha. Senatorial leaders like Scaurus hoped that negotiation and patience would bring order back to Numidia—which had, after all, been a faithful ally to Rome for nearly a century. What later Roman historians like Sallust blamed on scandalous bribery could simply have been the realistic recognition of the greater dangers in the north. Why send troops to Numidia when Italy itself was threatened by barbarian invasion?
The uncertain defense of the northern borders also had another impact on Roman politics: defeated commanders started facing legal prosecution for their failures. After his defeat at the hands of the Scordisci in 114, Cato was hauled before the Assembly and only narrowly avoided exile—the common belief being that Cato had only dodged prosecution by bribing the jurors. Less fortunate was Gnaeus Carbo. In 111, the Assembly called Carbo to account for provoking, and then losing, the Battle of Noreia. Marcus Antonius led the prosecution and easily secured a conviction. Like his brother, Carbo committed suicide rather than depart for exile. With both brothers now dead after being hounded by the refined optimate orators Crassus and Antonius, their sons would bear the optimates a special hostility in the years to come.10
DESPITE THE TROUBLE in the north, the people of Rome remained inflamed by the conduct of Jugurtha. After fleeing Rome in 111, Jugurtha returned to Numidia and raised an army. Unable to ignore Jugurtha’s insulting behavior, the Senate sent more legions across the Mediterranean in 110. In response to the invasion, Jugurtha launched a yearlong campaign of evasion, delay, and trickery to bog the Romans down. Finally, in January 109, Jugurtha lured the legions into a trap. With the Romans hopelessly surrounded Jugurtha offered simple terms: leave Numidia within ten days or you will all die. Adding insult to injury, Jugurtha also demanded the defeated legionaries “pass under the yoke,” a humiliating ritual of physically walking under a harness to acknowledge submission. The trapped Romans accepted the terms, passed under the yoke, and left Numidia.11
The humiliating defeat only confirmed the belief back in Rome that the pathetic campaigns in Numidia needed fresh leadership. In the elections for 109, the Assembly elected the sixth and final Metelli cousin to the consulship: Quintus Caecilius Metellus. Stern and disciplined, Metellus was both honest and intelligent, but an aristocratic pride defined his worldview. As the youngest of the Metelli, he was raised in a world where his brothers and cousins controlled the levers of power. He marched up the cursus honorum with ease, serving as quaestor in 126, tribune in 121, aedile in 118, and then praetor in 115. Politically rigid and unyielding, Metellus had little use for populare agitation because as a Metellan prince, his aristocratic connections were more than enough to secure his future prospects. After being elected consul, Metellus was assigned to take over the frustrating war in Numidia.12
With the previous year’s army defeated, it was clear Metellus was going to have to raise more troops from a population already stretched thin by continued economic dislocation and war. The historical record is vague, but we know Metellus secured an exemption from various restrictions on conscription, including lifting the six-year maximum on service and broadening the age range from which he could draw. Both exemptions would have allowed Metellus to draw from experienced veterans who had already done their time—every one of which was worth five raw recruits.13
