The First Man in Rome (48 page)
"Why didn't he leave the baggage in Tolosa?"
Sulla shrugged. "Apparently he didn't trust what Volcae Tectosages remained behind in Tolosa. Anyway, by the time he'd penetrated down the Garumna as far as Burdigala, the Germans and the Gauls had had at least fifteen days to recover from their trouncing. They went to earth inside Burdigala, which is, it seems, far larger than the usual Gallic
oppidum,
and heavily fortified, not to mention stuffed with armaments. The local tribesmen didn't want a Roman army in their lands, so they helped the Germans and the Gauls in every way they could, from contributing more troops to offering them Burdigala. And then they set a very clever ambush for Lucius Cassius."
"The fool!" said Marius.
"Our army had camped not far to the east of Burdigala, and when Cassius decided to move on to attack the
oppidum
itself, he left the baggage train behind in the camp, under a guard of about half a legion—sorry, I mean five cohorts— one of these days I'll get the terminology right!"
Marius found a smile. "You will, Lucius Cornelius, I guarantee it. But continue."
"It seems Cassius was supremely confident he would encounter no organized resistance, so he marched our army toward Burdigala without even tightening ranks, or making the men march in square, or even sending out scouts. Our whole army fell into a perfect trap, and the Germans and the Gauls literally annihilated us. Cassius himself fell on the field—so did his senior legate. All told, Popillius Laenas estimates thirty-five thousand Roman soldiers died at Burdigala," said Sulla.
"Popillius Laenas himself had been left in command of the baggage train and camp, I understand?" asked Marius.
"That's right. He heard the racket from the battlefield, of course, it drifted downwind for miles, and he was downwind of it. But the first he knew of the disaster was when no more than a handful of our men appeared, running for their lives to shelter in the camp. And though he waited and waited, no more of our men ever came. Instead, the Germans and the Gauls arrived. He says there were thousands upon thousands upon thousands of them, milling around the camp as thick as a plague of mice on a threshing floor. The ground was one mass of moving barbarians in a victory frenzy, lifted out of themselves, brandishing Roman heads on their spears and screaming war chants, all of them giants, their hair standing up stiff with clay, or hanging in great yellow braids down over their shoulders. A terrifying sight, Laenas said."
"And one we're going to see a lot more of in the future, Lucius Cornelius," said Marius grimly. "Go on."
"It's true that Laenas could have resisted them. But for
what
?
It seemed more sensible to him to save his pitiful remnant of our army, for our future use if possible. So that's what he did. He ran up the white flag and walked out himself to meet their chieftains, with his spear reversed and his scabbards empty. And they spared him, and they spared all of our surviving men. Then to show us what a greedy lot they thought we were, they even left us the baggage train! All they took from it were their own treasures which Cassius had looted." He drew a breath. "However, they did make Popillius Laenas and the rest pass under the yoke. After which they escorted them as far as Tolosa, and made sure they went on to Narbo."
"We've passed under the yoke too often of late years," said Marius, clenching his fists.
"Well, that is the chief reason for the general fury of indignation in Rome against Popillius Laenas, certainly," said Sulla. "He'll face treason charges, but from what he was saying to me, I doubt he'll stay to be tried. I think he plans to get together what portable valuables he has, and go into a voluntary exile at once."
"It's the sensible move, at least he'll salvage something out of his ruin that way. If he waits to be tried, the State will confiscate the lot." Marius thumped the map. "But the fate of Lucius Cassius is not going to be our fate, Lucius Cornelius! By fair means or foul, we're going to rub Jugurtha's face in the mud—and then we're going home to demand a mandate from the People to fight the Germans!"
"Now that, Gaius Marius, is something I'll drink to!" said Sulla, lifting his beaker.
The expedition against Capsa was successful beyond all expectations, but—as everyone admitted—only thanks to Marius's brilliant management of the campaign. His legate Aulus Manlius, whose cavalry Marius didn't quite trust, because among its ranks were some Numidians claiming they were Rome's and Gauda's men, tricked his cavalry into thinking that Marius was on a foraging expedition. So what news Jugurtha got was completely misleading.
Thus when Marius appeared with his army before Capsa, the King thought him still a hundred miles away; no one had reported to Jugurtha that the Romans had stocked up on water and grain in order to cross the arid wastelands between the Bagradas River and Capsa. When the ostensibly impregnable fortress found itself looking down on a sea of Roman helmets, its inhabitants surrendered it without a fight. But once again Jugurtha managed to escape.
Time to teach Numidia—and especially the Gaetuli—a lesson, decided Gaius Marius. So in spite of the fact that Capsa had offered him no resistance, he gave his soldiers permission to loot it, rape it, and burn it; every adult, male and female, was put to the sword. Its treasures, and Jugurtha's huge hoard of money, were loaded into wagons; Marius then brought his army safely out of Numidia into winter quarters near Utica, well before the rains began.
His Head Count troops had earned their rest. And it gave him intense pleasure to write a dulcet letter to the Senate (to be read out by Gaius Julius Caesar) lauding the spirit, courage, and morale of his Head Count army; nor could he resist adding that after the appallingly bad generalship of Lucius Cassius Longinus, his senior colleague in the consulship, it was certain Rome would need more armies made up of the
capite censi.
Said Publius Rutilius Rufus in a letter to Gaius Marius toward the end of the year:
Oh, so many red faces! Your father-in-law roared your message out in impressively stentorian tones, so that even those who covered their ears were still obliged to listen. Metellus Piggle-wiggle—also known as Metellus Numidicus these days—looked murderous. As well he might—his old army dead along the Garumna, and your raggle-taggle crew heroes of the living kind. "There is no justice!" he was heard to say afterward, whereupon I turned round and said, very sweetly, "That is true, Quintus Caecilius. For if justice did exist, you wouldn't be calling yourself Numidicus!" He was not amused, but Scaurus fell about laughing, of course. Say what you will about Scaurus, he has the keenest sense of humor, not to mention sense of the ridiculous, of any man I know. Since this is not something I can say of any of his cronies, I sometimes wonder if he doesn't choose his cronies so he can laugh at their posturing in secret.
What amazes me, Gaius Marius, is the strength of your fortunate star. I know you weren't worried, but I can tell you now that I didn't think you stood a chance of having your command in Africa prorogued for next year. Then what happens? Lucius Cassius gets himself killed, along with Rome's biggest and most experienced army, leaving the Senate and its controlling faction helpless to oppose you. Your tribune of the plebs, Mancinus, went to the Assembly of the Plebs and procured you a plebiscite extending your governorship of Africa Province without any trouble at all. The Senate lay silent, it being too apparent, even to them, that you are going to be needed. For Rome is a very uneasy place these days. The threat of the Germans hangs over it like a pall of doom, and there are many who say no man is going to arise capable of averting that doom. Where are the Scipio Africanuses, the Aemilius Paulluses, the Scipio Aemilianuses? they ask. But you have a loyal band of devoted followers, Gaius Marius, and since the death of Cassius they are saying, louder and louder, that you are that man who will arise and turn back the German tide. Among them is the accused legate from Burdigala, Gaius Popillius Laenas.
Since you are a backward Italian hayseed with no Greek, I shall tell you a little story.
Once upon a time, there was a very bad and nasty King of Syria named Antiochus. Now because he was not the first King of Syria to be named Antiochus, nor the greatest (his father claimed the distinction of calling himself Antiochus the Great), he had a number after his name. He was Antiochus IV, the fourth King Antiochus of Syria. Even though Syria was a rich kingdom, King Antiochus IV lusted after the neighboring kingdom of Egypt, where his cousins Ptolemy Philometor, Ptolemy Euergetes Gross Belly, and Cleopatra (being the second Cleopatra, she had a number after her name also, and was known as Cleopatra II) ruled together. I wish I could say they ruled in happy harmony, but they did not. Brothers and sister, husband and wife (yes, in Oriental kingdoms incest is quite permissible), they had been fighting between themselves for years, and had almost succeeded in ruining the fair and fertile land of the great river Nilus. So when King Antiochus IV of Syria decided to conquer Egypt, he thought he would have a very easy time of it thanks to the squabbles of his cousins the two Ptolemies and Cleopatra II.
But, alas, the minute he turned his back on Syria, a few unpleasantly seditious incidents compelled him to turn around and go home again to chop off a few heads, dismember a few bodies, pull a few teeth, and probably tear out someone's womb. And it was four years before sufficient heads, arms, legs, teeth, and wombs were plucked from their owners, and King Antiochus IV could start out a second time to conquer Egypt. This time, Syria in his absence remained very quiet and obedient, so King Antiochus IV invaded Egypt, captured Pelusium, marched down the Delta to Memphis, captured that, and began to march up the other side of the Delta toward Alexandria.
Having ruined the country and the army, the brothers Ptolemy and their sister-wife, Cleopatra II, had no choice but to appeal to Rome for help against King Antiochus IV, Rome being the best and greatest of all nations, and everyone's hero. To the rescue of Egypt, the Senate and People of Rome (being in better accord in those days than we would believe possible now— or so the storybooks say) sent their noble brave consular Gaius Popillius Laenas. Now any other country would have given its hero a whole army, but the Senate and People of Rome gave Gaius Popillius Laenas only twelve lictors and two clerks. However, because it was a foreign mission, the lictors were allowed to wear the red tunics and put the axes in their bundles of rods, so Gaius Popillius Laenas was not quite unprotected. Off they sailed in a little ship, and came to Alexandria just as King Antiochus IV was marching up the Canopic arm of the Nilus toward the great city wherein cowered the Egyptians.
Clad in his purple-bordered toga and preceded by his twelve crimson-clad lictors, all bearing the axes in their bundles of rods, Gaius Popillius Laenas walked out of Alexandria through the Sun Gate, and kept on walking east. Now he was not a young man, so as he went he leaned upon a tall staff, his pace as placid as his face. Since only the brave and heroic and noble Romans built decent roads, he was soon walking along through thick dust. But was Gaius Popillius Laenas deterred? No! He just kept on walking, until near the huge hippodrome in which the Alexandrians liked to watch the horse races, he ran into a wall of Syrian soldiers, and had to stop.
King Antiochus IV of Syria came forward, and went to meet Gaius Popillius Laenas.
"Rome has no business in Egypt!" the King said, frowning awfully and direfully.
"Syria has no business in Egypt either," said Gaius Popillius Laenas, smiling sweetly and serenely.
"Go back to Rome," said the King.
"Go back to Syria," said Gaius Popillius Laenas.
But neither of them moved a single inch.
"You are offending the Senate and People of Rome," said Gaius Popillius Laenas after a while of staring into the King's fierce face. "I have been ordered to make you return to Syria."
The King laughed and laughed and laughed. "And how are you going to make me go home?" he asked. "Where is your army?"
"I have no need of an army, King Antiochus IV," said Gaius Popillius Laenas. "Everything that Rome is, has been, and will be, is standing before you here and now. I am Rome, no less than Rome's largest army. And in the name of Rome, I say to you a further time, go home!"
"No," said King Antiochus IV.
So Gaius Popillius Laenas stepped forward, and moving sedately, he used the end of his staff to trace a circle in the dust all the way around the person of King Antiochus IV, who found himself standing inside Gaius Popillius Laenas's circle.
"Before you step out of this circle, King Antiochus IV, I advise you to think again," said Gaius Popillius Laenas. "And when you do step out of it—why, be facing east, and go home to Syria."