Meantime the autumnal equinox was approaching, and
the weather was becoming cold. The Medes and
Parthians, under their respective monarchs, hung about
him, impeded his movements, and cut off his stragglers,
but carefully avoided engaging him in a pitched battle.
If he could have forced the city to a surrender, he
would have been in comparative safety, for he might
have gone into winter quarters there and have renewed
the war in the ensuing spring. But all his assaults,
with whatever desperation they were made, failed;
and it became necessary to relinquish the siege and
retire into Armenia before the rigors of winter should
set in. He could, however, with difficulty bring
himself to make a confession of failure, and flattered
himself for a while that the Parthians would consent
to purchase his retirement by the surrender of the
Crassian captives and standards. Having lost
some valuable time in negotiations, at which the Parthians
laughed, at length, when the equinox was passed, he
broke up from before Praaspa, and commenced the work
of retreat. There were two roads by which he
might reach the Araxes at the usual point of passage,
One lay towards the left, through a plain and open
country, probably that through which he had come;
the other, which was shorter, but more difficult,
lay to the right, leading across a mountain-tract,
but one fairly supplied with water, and in which there
were inhabited villages. Antony was advised that
the Parthians had occupied the easier route, expecting
that he would follow it, and intended to overwhelm
him with their cavalry in the plains. He therefore
took the road to the right through a rugged and inclement
country—probably that between Tahkt-i-Suleiman
and Tabriz—and, guided by a Mardian who
knew the region well, proceeded to make his way back
to the Araxes. His decision took the Parthians
by surprise, and for two days he was unmolested.
But by the third day they had thrown themselves across
his path; and thenceforward, for nineteen consecutive
days, they disputed with Antony every inch of his
retreat, and inflicted on him the most serious damage.
The sufferings of the Roman army during this time,
says a modern historian of Rome, were unparalleled
in their military annals. The intense cold, the
blinding snow and driving sleet, the want sometimes
of provisions, sometimes of water, the use of poisonous
herbs, and the harassing attacks of the enemy’s
cavalry and bowmen, which could only be repelled by
maintaining the dense array of the phalanx or the tortoise,
reduced the retreating army by one-third of its numbers.
At length, after a march of 300 Roman, or 277 British,
miles, they reached the river Araxes, probably at
the Julfa ferry, and, crossing it, found themselves
in Armenia. But the calamities of the return were
not yet ended. Though it was arranged with Artavasdes
that the bulk of the army should winter in Armenia,
yet, before the various detachments could reach their
quarters in different parts of the country, eight thousand