Julius Caesar (12 page)

The Caesarian legionary was protected by a mail shirt that hung about halfway down his thighs, under which he wore a leather jerkin, and on his head what is called a Montefortino helmet (so-called after the cemetery where an example was found). This type of helmet had protective cheek pieces and was pear-shaped, rising to a lead-filled topknot which held a horsehair crest. A rim ran around the bottom of the helmet, swept out farther at the back to protect the neck against glancing blows. The shield was oval-shaped and, to judge from one example found in Egypt, was made from laminated strips of wood—in this case birch which had then been covered with lamb’s wool felt. Shields were often leather covered, and were metal-rimmed and carried a metal boss in the center. Greaves were rarely worn by the ordinary legionary, and his equipment ended in his heavy leather sandals, leather-laced over the foot and up round the ankles, the soles studded with iron nails.

The famed centurion was undoubtedly the backbone of the Roman army. Senior officers might come and go, but centurions were the only lifetime officers. In Caesar’s time they were usually men who had started in the ranks (although in later days so highly valued had the rank become that even monied men sought to buy a centurionate). As regulars they would serve twenty-five years or even more, usually with the same legion. As his name suggests, the commander of a century, the centurion was expected to be a “hard case,” for on him largely rested the discipline of the legions. His badge of office was the vine cane—often laid across the soldier’s back—and he was distinguished from the legionary by wearing the crest on his helmet transversely and his sword on the left, while on his right he had a dagger. They were expected to be Spartans, to stand and fight and die. There were fifty-nine centurions to a legion.

Each legion was commanded by six tribunes, usually young men aspiring to become senators, or others who had tried the military life, developed a taste for it, and would stay there for years. Senior to them were the prefects, who might become aides to generals or be put in command of cavalry, or even become a prefect of the fleet—for the Romans made no real distinction between military service ashore or afloat. Above them in the chain of command came the legate (under Caesar, of a legion), usually a senator, and therefore one who must at some time previously have been a magistrate, or quaestor. These were the men who, under great captains like Caesar or Pompey, formed an experienced group of commanders, a general staff as it were.

The whole legion, if at its full strength—which was rare enough—consisted of 6,000 men divided into ten cohorts. Further subdivisions within the cohort were each commanded by a centurion, and each with its individual standard bearer and hornblower (the group’s signalman). In the old legions of pre-Marian days each had also had attached to it its own cavalry, light infantry or skirmishers, engineers and artillerymen. In the new army these departments had become quite separate units on their own. If the siege of a town was to be undertaken, then the corps of engineers and artillery had to be brought up, similarly whenever cavalry was needed. The latter largely came from Spain, although Caesar was to conscript useful cavalry from Gaul and Germany at various times in his campaigns. The new legion, was, therefore, not a self-contained structure as it had been in the past, but what it had lost in one sense it had gained in another. Its flexibility as a unit of disciplined, highly-trained professionals made it a formidable instrument of war in the hands of a man of genius. The legionary’s training was rigorous: weapons drill, long runs in full armor, practice fighting with swords which had a button on the point, javelin-throwing and, throughout their training, constant attention to the condition of arms and armor, with on-the-spot checks by eagle-eyed centurions. All this attention to detail, so familiar to armies of later centuries (if of any quality), was what gave the Roman legionary his permanent edge over the brave barbarian.

For there can be no doubt about the bravery and the fighting qualities of the warriors of Gallic and Germanic stock with whom the legionaries were soon to come in conflict. Long-moustached, shaggy-haired, despising the protective armor of their enemies, the peoples of the north inhabited a Homeric world. Boastful, deep-drinking, prone to fits of berserker rage, wearing great torques and massive armbands of gold, whether Gauls or Germans, all had one thing in common—they lived for war. Unlike the Romans and the Greeks, they went trousered through the world—such clothing being more suitable for their climate, but setting them apart as “barbarians” in the eyes of Mediterranean peoples. The Greek historian Diodorus wrote of them: “They enlarge the bronze helmets that they wear with horns, to give an appearance of great size. They carry shields as long as their bodies, embossed with the head of some beast. They speak in riddles, hinting darkly at their meaning, while always extolling themselves. Terrible in aspect, they appear very threatening; yet they have sharp wits and are often clever in learning.” Since, under the influence of their Druidic religion, they were confident of an afterlife, they had no fear of death, and the ambition of the warrior was to die in battle.

13

The First Planned Victories

CAESAR refused to accept the fact that the withdrawal of the Helvetii to the north meant that the threat to the province was over. He intended that the danger should at least appear to remain. When he later came to publish his commentaries on his campaigns, he took care that they should show him as a Roman provincial governor doing no more than his duty by protecting the interests of the state.

Although the Helvetii had made it clear that they did not want to fight the Romans, and that they only wished to migrate to other lands where they would be free from harassment by the Germans, they had in the past—seven years before Caesar was born—defeated a Roman consul and enforced the subjection of his entire army (“passing under the yoke”). This gave good grounds for wishing to humiliate them, but better were now provided by the pro-Roman tribe of the Aedui and their neighbors, who appealed for military assistance against this great migratory wave which threatened their peace and their lands. It is more than probable that this appeal was made at Caesar’s instigation, for he had already summoned a further two legions from Cisalpine Gaul—as if anticipating trouble.

He made his base at Lyons where the gentle river Saone joins the turbulent Rh6ne. Here he regrouped his forces: he now had nearly 50,000 men under his command, the legionaries from Italy, the Tenth Legion under Labienus, his legate, a detachment of cavalry provided by the Aedui and a number of auxiliaries recruited from the province. This should have been more than enough to deal with the Helvetii, who, although they had many more fighting men, were hampered by their immense baggage train and by the fact that, since the whole tribe was on the move, they had the encumbrance of their old men, women and children. Caesar could have fallen upon them even before they reached the Saone, but he deliberately waited until they had actually begun their crossing to the north bank. When more than half were across, he fell upon the remainder who were waiting. A considerable number were killed and, in his own words: “The others fled and hid in the forests nearby.” It was a cheap and easy victory.

Now an embassy came from the Helvetii under the leadership of the man who so long ago had inflicted that crushing defeat upon the Romans. The old chief, Divico, chosen perhaps for the very reason that the Romans would respect an adversary who had been so formidable when young, came to ask for peace with honor, and humbled himself sufficiently to say that his people would settle “in whatever place should be assigned to them by the will of the Romans.” Unfortunately, the old man closed his speech with arrogance, reminding Caesar of the previous Roman defeat at his hands. It was enough: Caesar would entertain no thought of letting these people go forward in peace, citing the damage that they had done in their passage through the lands of the Aedui and their neighbors.

For a further two weeks the Romans hung on the heels of the Helvetii as they migrated northward. Then, a savage defeat of his Aeduan horsemen by the Helvetii, coupled with a breakdown in his grain-supply, caused Caesar to make a long diversion to Bibracte (Mont Beuvray) to get further provisions. It is noticeable about the whole of this part of the campaign that Caesar, referring to himself as he habitually does in the third person (to give an air of objectivity to his account) is concealing the real situation—that the Aedui, who were supposed to have asked for his support, were far from wholeheartedly behind him. In fact, the tribe was split be-tween those who accepted that the Romans were there to stay and those who maintained that, “they would prefer to be dominated by other Gauls rather than the Romans.” It was clear that Dumnorix, the brother of Divitiacus, the leader of the Aedui, was the most powerful anti-Roman force in their politics while Divitiacus, a weaker man, would also have been happy to get rid of the Romans if he could. However, by inviting Caesar to protect his tribe against the Helvetii (almost certainly pressurized to do so) Divitiacus was made to appear a traitor to his people, while his brother Dumnorix stood out as the staunch patriot. Since a great deal of Gallic politics always revolved around the contest between brothers as to who was to be the chief of the tribe, it was clear that the star of Dumnorix was in the ascendant. It was to be much the same all through Caesar’s Gallic campaigns: even those who professed friendship for the Romans, or acquiesced in their presence, were only too happy to get rid of them—if and when the opportunity presented itself. The Gauls, unlike many of those in the East whom Pompey had conquered, were a passionately freedom-loving people. What betrayed them ultimately into Roman hands was their equally passionate internecine feuds. (Not unlike the Scottish clans many centuries later, they hated each other almost as much as the overall enemy.)

The Helvetii, having observed the Romans turn back toward Bibracte, and probably informed by some of the Aedui that they were short of provisions, were unwise enough to presume that they could repeat their old success and inflict a crushing defeat upon these invaders of the Gallic world. If the Helvetii had managed to do so, there can be little doubt that they would have been welcomed everywhere and that their passage through the territories of other tribes would have been made easy for them. They were foolish, however, in not pursuing their course away to the north. Even hampered as they were by their baggage trains and their non-combatant civilians, they should have been able to get far enough away before Caesar’s forces had reprovisioned to make it a waste of time for the Romans to follow them. As it was, they prepared to attack.

Caesar moved his legions to a hill, sent out his cavalry to harass the advancing Helvetii, and calmly awaited them. To show the young officers who had accompanied him (and who probably had no experience of warfare) that there was no question of retreat, he had all the horses—including his own—sent away from the immediate vicinity. The Helvetii, full of the usual courage to be expected among the “barbarians,” but quite lacking in tactical expertise, advanced up the hill in the face of the well-entrenched and disciplined Roman troops. The result could easily be foreseen: the Romans greeted them first of all with a shower of spears and then drew their swords and charged. The Helvetii had advanced in what is described as “a phalanx”: that is, a compact line—presumably row after row of them—with their shields overlapping. But bravery alone cannot defeat superior weaponry, and it was now that the Roman
pilum
showed itself so far in advance of the simple spear. The weight of the iron shaft behind the head, coupled with the forceful throw of men who had been exhaustively trained in just such an exercise, overwhelmed the enemy. Furthermore, “The Helvetii were much impeded in their movement by the fact that a single
pilum
often pierced two overlapping shields, pinning them together. Then, as the iron bent, the men could not pull them out. So, with their left arms thus hampered, they could not fight properly and, despite many attempts to free themselves, they were forced to drop their shields and Fight unprotected.” It was a triumph of science and discipline over unthinking courage. The Helvetii were decisively defeated, and all night long—after a battle that had lasted throughout the day—the stream of refugees fled northward. It was the end of this hardy tribe from Switzerland, whose bravery had long been famous among their fellowmen. The disgrace of that Roman legion over fifty years before had been expunged, and it was as if a great voice had shouted throughout all the unconquered lands that no one was any longer safe to enjoy his freedom.

The defeated followed their old and their women and children into the area around Dijon, where the local tribe soon received warning from Caesar that they should on no account give any help to the Helvetii on pain of suffering a similar fate themselves. Contemplating the ruinous condition of the survivors, and hearing of their overwhelming defeat, the local inhabitants were not unwilling to obey and the remaining Helvetii, in danger of starvation, were compelled to send envoys to their conqueror. Caesar had given his troops three days’ rest—they too had many dead to bury and more wounded to attend to, for the fighting qualities of the enemy had not been exaggerated—then the march after the Helvetii was resumed. One hundred and ten thousand of the conquered waited upon Caesar, while many others who had slipped away were later to return and surrender. (The latter, as a punishment, were either slaughtered or sold to the slave-dealers who always followed like vultures behind the Roman troops.) The main body were ordered to return to the land that they had so rashly left and rebuild their towns and villages. Meanwhile, as they were without provisions, the neighboring tribe of the Allobroges were ordered to supply them. Caesar’s decision was clear and politically wise. They had felt the might of Roman arms, they had surrendered, and now they would return to their country and serve as a buffer-state between the Germans and the Roman province.