Julius Caesar (13 page)

This devastating victory over a tribe with such a high military reputation naturally had a great effect upon Gaul. Many were the tribal leaders who now came forward to secure their peace with Rome, while the Aedui—as representative of the Gauls who favored the Roman cause (however halfheartedly in fact)—now became the dominant power in this area. At the same time, there existed a secondary option for the free peoples of Gaul. This was to ask for help from their near neighbors, the Germans—more than neighbors indeed, for there were no fixed boundaries in those days and Germany and Gaul overlapped and coexisted on both banks of the Rhine. The Germans, however, had had less contact with the Roman world than the Gauls and were feared in distant Rome even more. In the days of Marius—who had won much of his reputation by defeating them—two Germanic tribes, the Cimbri and the Teutones, had swept down as far as Italy itself. The dominant tribe at the moment was one hailing from Suebia far across the Rhine, but which already, under their king Ariovistus, had infiltrated Gaul and begun to flood across the Rhine in the vicinity of Mainz. The Gallic Sequani, to secure assistance against their neighbors (all Gaul was not just “divided into three parts” but was a compendium of tribes constantly fighting one another) had very rashly called upon the Suebi to act as mercenaries for them. This was something that they soon bitterly regretted, for no sooner were Ariovistus and his warriors firmly entrenched on the west bank of the Rhine than they decided that they liked the look of this rich and fertile land.

It was largely on Caesar’s intiative that, during his year of consulship, Ariovistus had secured recognition as an independent king and as a friend of the Roman people. Caesar had probably been thinking of the adage “Divide and Rule,” hoping that Ariovistus might distract the Gauls from any combined nationalism. Now, a year later, he was confronted with the reality of the Gallic chieftains in assembly asking the Romans to stop the Suebian flood that threatened to engulf the tribes on the west bank of the Rhine. (Ariovistus, it must be noted, had been careful, in accordance with his concord with Rome, not to assist the Helvetii in any way during their march.) Caesar, who had supported Ariovistus the year before, now found himself faced with the necessity of curbing him and protecting the Gauls, and in particular the Aedui, against any further German incursions.

The senate had described the Aedui in glowing terms as “blood brothers”; so when they, together with many other Celtic chiefs, now asked for help he had the excuse—if one were needed—to take arms against the Suebi and their chieftain. For the fact was that a good excuse was indeed needed, and Caesar was well aware that there were those among his officers who were constantly reporting his every move to Rome. The Roman senate did not believe in preventive war, but the cycle of events which Caesar had set in motion called for just that. He now looked to Ariovistus to provide him with the necessary excuse.

14

Ariovistus and After

HAVING promised the Gallic leaders the protection of Rome, Caesar sent an ambassador to Ariovistus asking him to meet him at any place midway between their two armies. Ariovistus, far away in Suebia, had no intention of crossing the Rhine into territory where most of the Gauls hated him. He sent a message back that he could not come to see Caesar without being accompanied by an army. “If,” he added ironically, “he had wanted to see Caesar he would have gone to see him, but since the reverse was the case, then let Caesar come to Ariovistus.”

He pointed out that the Aedui owed him money in accordance with a treaty which they had made with the Germans, but the presence of Roman troops meant that the Romans were taking what was rightfully his. The Aedui had given him hostages as guarantees for this treaty, and he had no intention of returning them until they showed that they were prepared to keep up their regular payments of tribute money. Caesar’s reply was to send further ambassadors to the Suebian leader stating the conditions under which the Romans were prepared to continue their friendship with Ariovistus: these included a return of the hostages and a renunciation of the use of force against the Aedui or any of their allies. But Ariovistus had really won this contest of words: he had given his reasons for retaining the hostages, and his unwillingness to venture halfway to meet Caesar without an army to protect him was justified enough. Caesar had sought a
casus belli
, but the German, while remaining intransigent, had not provided him with one. Meanwhile, whether acting on Ariovistus’ instructions or not, numerous Germans continued to cross the Rhine and pour into France.

Caesar considered that he had cause enough for action—even if many of those who were with him were to show that they disagreed. He ordered the legions to march on Vesontio (Besançon), thus forestalling Ariovistus who was already moving in the same direction. He was full of elation, seeing ahead of him a further campaign that would crown the year during which he had already defeated the Helvetii and had, to his satisfaction, solved the problem by getting them to return to their former country. He looked forward to throwing the Germans back across the Rhine and of being able to write to Rome that he had completely stabilized and secured the security not only of the Narbonese province but of their Gallic friends to the north of it.

His enthusiasm was not shared, however, by his officers—and certainly not by his troops. The latter had been hearing from the Gauls horrific stories about the fighting prowess of the Germans, their barbarism and their cruelty. The soldiers had been enjoying themselves in a rich and pleasant country after a hard campaign, and now they had been suddenly ordered by forced marches to a land unknown to Romans, to find that, having already fought well for Caesar, they were going to be ordered out once more against what appeared to be monsters. The legionaries could be calmed down if Caesar could only secure the undivided enthusiasm of their officers for the fight that lay ahead. But here—to his surprise and no doubt to his inner fury—he discovered that the latter were practically in revolt. Young Romans of good families and no doubt the products of soft living had thought it would be “interesting” or “amusing” to take a look at the barbarous Gauls; it would give them something to talk about when back in Rome. Instead, they had been hauled off at breakneck speed into Switzerland, confronted by a savage race migrating to the west, and then—just as this seemed to have been satisfactorily settled—told to march again and make war upon the very people whom they had happily considered pacified.

There had been heavy fighting, with many dead and wounded in the last battle against the Helvetii: they themselves had survived and had congratulated themselves on a good campaigning year. Now Caesar was leading them into even more barbarous territory to fight a people whom, they heard, even the Gauls and the Helvetii considered irresistible. Caesar of course does not say as much, but it seems very probable that some of this apparent indiscipline among his officers was not due to fear at all but to pressure from Rome, where it was constantly being said by his opponents that Caesar’s campaigns were unnecessary and that he was bent only on self-aggrandizement, whereas he had been sent out to administer a province: no more. Dio Cassius records that it was said everywhere that they were entering upon a war merely to satisfy Caesar’s personal ambitions. It was a war that was neither just nor sanctioned by public decree.

Caesar was faced with what looked very much like mutiny, not only from his troops but also from the military tribunes and prefects. Despondency prevailed, and “throughout the camp there was nothing but the sealing of wills.” When it became evident that even the centurions, the backbone of discipline and the legions, were infected by the malaise Caesar realized just how dangerous the situation was. He knew at once where to strike—and that was with them. Convince and win over the centurions, and the army was his. As for the senior officers, he could deal with them himself. He knew how to handle the centurions: “To argue that we ought not to go to war is only to say that we ought not to be rich, that we ought not to rule over others, that we ought neither to be free nor to be Romans.” Yes, they were a thousand miles away from home, but the centurions were men who were in the army of their own choice and “because of the honors and advantages that can be gained by war.” He spoke to them as a soldier to soldiers and his approach was successful. He disparaged these absurd legends that the Germans were unconquerable, reminding them that Marius had soundly trounced them some forty years ago. (He did not need to remind centurions, steeped in all the history of the army, that Marius had been his uncle.) He did remind them, however, that there had been many Germans in the army of slave-revolt led by Spartacus—and look what had happened to them!

It was true that the Germans had achieved some success over the Gauls, but the Gauls were “barbarous and inexperienced,” as they themselves had found out. He reminded them of his success against the Helvetii and said that he intended to march that very night—alone if need be, but he knew that the Tenth Legion would never let him down. The Tenth Legion under his friend Labienus was, of course, certain to obey, but Caesar had played cannily upon that rivalry between the legions which the Marian system of individual numbers and eagles had fostered. When he had finished speaking, “his words were applauded by all” and particularly by those who had given credence to the previous rumors, and who now wished to show that their legions were every bit as reliable and stout-hearted as the Tenth. They came forward to offer their apologies and excuses and, as he puts it tersely in his account, “Caesar accepted their explanations.” Six days later, with all doubts and hesitation quashed by his own superlative self-confidence and by the trust in him now so clearly felt by the centurions, he was some twenty miles from the camp of Ariovistus in the Upper Alsace. The German leader certainly knew of the trouble there had been in Caesar’s camp, for he was kept posted with intelligence from Rome and knew that the proconsul had many enemies there. He must therefore have been somewhat surprised when Caesar, having apparently overcome the opposition and any semblance of mutiny, suddenly appeared within an easy march of his own lines.

He could no longer prevaricate. He had asked Caesar to come to meet him if he wished to have a discussion, and the latter had done so. Accordingly he sent envoys to the Roman camp to inform the proconsul that Ariovistus was now prepared to meet him personally. Five days passed, with the almost inevitable haggling about how many should be present at the conference and what kind of escort each should be allowed, both men naturally being suspicious and fearing some kind of trap or ambush. It was a historic moment when the great German leader met the Roman proconsul: the representative of the powerful, unknown North and the representative of the Mediterranean world.

Gallic was the
lingua franca
used by the interpreters between German and Latin, Caesar speaking in his own tongue but Ariovistus, long familiar with Gallic, being able to speak directly through the interpreters. On and on went the long arguments: Ariovistus maintaining that the Romans were interfering in his sphere of influence, Caesar maintaining the opposite, that if the Germans kept out of Gaul then there was no reason for any quarrel. In his
Commentaries
Caesar was anxious to establish that he was doing no more than his duty in protecting the Roman province (now far away to the south). He was also pleased to be able to insert a statement by Ariovistus that there were many men in Rome who would be happy to see Caesar removed—thus showing up his political opponents as traitors who had inspired disaffection in the legions and were also guilty of trying to betray a Roman proconsul and his legions almost on the field of battle! And Caesar was determined that it should come to battle, for he realized that this powerful and wily German could never be trusted to hold to any agreement that might be hammered out between them. The long dialogue was cut short by a more or less trivial incident in which some of the German troops made a half-hearted attack upon Caesar’s bodyguard. It was enough. Caesar ceased his speech, rejoined his troops, and hastened back to camp. A stupid indiscipline had given him the opportunity he sought.

It was clear that Ariovistus did not want to fight, for he sent a further delegation to the proconsul, seeking another meeting. But Caesar now had his excuse for battle and he was not relinquishing it. He sent back two comparatively insignificant envoys with orders to listen to Ariovistus and report back what he had to say. The German was justifiably angered at what seemed clearly intended as an insult, and had the two men imprisoned in chains. This was, indeed, against all the conventions and Caesar had a further (quotable) excuse for having nothing more to do with this barbarian. War was now inevitable, and both sides began to maneuver for position, Ariovistus attempting to cut off Caesar’s supply route and the latter denying him this advantage by establishing a secondary camp south of the Germans. The battle when it came was swift, bloody and decisive.

Caesar made the first move. The autumn rains were approaching and he wanted to capitalize on the new mood which had been aroused among his troops. To delay would be to the advantage of the enemy. He attacked the camp of Ariovistus with his six legions, advancing in three lines, and the German, forced to fight, ordered his troops out in a counterattack. Caesar himself took command of the Roman right wing, and before long the German left began to yield before the weight of his attack. But in the turmoil of battle Caesar seems to have lost command of the overall picture, and failed to notice that on the left it was the Romans who were giving way before the onslaught of the Germans. The situation was rectified by the young son of the millionaire Crassus, a youth fresh from the soft life of Rome who showed an instinctive grasp of tactical opportunities. Stationed in the rear with his cavalry he observed the position on the Roman left and, without waiting for any orders from his commander, immediately sent up the third legionary line (the reserves) to the relief. Both German wings finally fell back, and the battle turned into a rout. (Like most barbarians they were fine offensive fighters, but they lacked the discipline to maintain an ordered withdrawal.)