Marching With Caesar: Conquest of Gaul (56 page)

After almost two weeks we arrived at the banks of the river Matrona (Marne), at the edge of the territory of the more hostile branches of the Belgae, in the middle of the territory held by the Remi branch of the tribe. Even as slow as the march seemed to us, at least when compared to past marches with Caesar, we once again arrived so rapidly that the Belgae were caught by surprise at the sight of an army our size sitting in their territory, poised to strike. The Remi in particular, whose territory we were now in, made a quick calculation that their chances were better with Caesar than against him. Consequently, two of their leaders, Iccius and Andebrogius, came to Caesar to offer their assistance, promising to help provide the army with supplies, and most importantly information about the enemy tribes who were aligning to face us. These Remi had originally been part of a two tribe confederation, led by one chief named Galba, who was the chief of the other branch, the Suessiones, and the Remi had tried to persuade the Suessiones that their best interests lay with Caesar. They were not successful; in fact, the primary chief Galba was unanimously named by the other tribes aligned against us to be the overall commander of their host, and quite a host it was. It did not take long before the clerks in the
Praetorium
, who were our chief source of information, even if it was in a roundabout way after it had passed the lips of many other men, told their friends in the Legions that the Remi were able to provide Caesar with an exact count of the warriors that we would have to defeat. The Bellovaci were the largest contingent, promising 50,000 picked men out of an available army of 100,000 men; the Suessiones led by Galba were to provide another 15,000 men. So were the Nervii, while the Atrebates would send 15,000 men; the Ambiani 10,000; the Morini 25,000; the Menapii 7,000; the Caletes, Veliocasses and Viromandui 10,000 men each; the Aduatuci 19,000 men. Finally, the Condrusi, Eburones, Caeroesi, and Paemani would send a combined 40,000 men. All told we would be facing an army numbering a little short of 300,000 men, compared to our strength of around 37,000 Legionaries, 5,000 cavalry and about 10,000 auxiliary troops. If we faced a host this large the year before, I shudder to think how the army would have performed, given how shaky morale was before we faced Ariovistus. However, our confidence now was such that it did not shake us in the least. In fact, hearing these numbers had the opposite effect, the men mentally tallying up how much booty we could expect to gain from defeating an army of this size.

“Let’s just say that each of those barbarians has the equal of one gold denarius on him,” mused Romulus as we sat by the fire the night we heard the size of the Belgae army. “And you know some of their nobles will be carrying a lot more than that, right?” There was general agreement to this as we sat and listened to Romulus, who was growing enthused the more he talked. “So that’s at the very least 300,000 gold denarii just waiting for us to take.”

Turning to me, he asked, “What did you say our strength was again, Pullus?” After I told him the number relayed to me, he sat there with his face screwed up as he tried to calculate the sum in his head.

Finally, he just shrugged and finished, “Well, it'll be a lot of gold pieces for each of us is all I know.” His face turned red as we laughed at him, while Scribonius supplied the answer.

“It’ll be about six gold pieces for each of us, give or take,” he said, eliciting looks of astonishment that he was able to work such huge sums in his head.

Romulus’ eyes narrowed in suspicion and he blurted, “That can’t be right. It’s a lot more than that.”

“No, I promise you that it’s just a little shy of six pieces per man, using your example,” Scribonius pronounced this with a confidence that convinced me that he was right, but Romulus was having none of it.

“How is that possible, that you say out of 300,000 gold pieces, each of us would only get six?”

I could tell that Romulus was really getting worked up over this, and I began to have a nagging worry that this might turn into a full-blown quarrel. Scribonius and Romulus got along well enough, yet they had nothing whatsoever in common, and were opposite in temperament as well. Romulus was quick to laugh, although he did much less of that since Remus died, except he was equally quick to take offense. Romulus loved nothing more than to be with his friends getting into all sorts of mischief, whereas Scribonius was much more thoughtful and deliberate, always thinking things through carefully before opening his mouth.

Now, Scribonius was clearly doing his best to be patient, sighing as he tried to explain. “You’re worrying about the zeros for nothing, Romulus, that’s why you’re not working it out right. Look,” he squatted in the dirt and drew the number thirty and the number five in the dirt. “All you’re really doing is seeing how many times five will go into thirty.”

I was confused as well, so I kept my mouth shut, but I instantly saw what he meant. Romulus still was not convinced. “Thirty,” he snorted, “where did you get thirty from? We’re talking 300,000, not thirty.”

Shaking his head, Scribonius replied with a thread of impatience that I hoped only I could detect. “It doesn’t matter. All right then, let’s try this. Tell me how many times 50 will go into three hundred.”

Finally, here was a cipher that Romulus could understand, and I suppressed a smile as I saw his face run the gamut of emotion, going from irritation to the dawning of understanding the correct answer, then quickly back to irritation again as he realized he was in the wrong. He stood there, his lips pressed into a thin line as he scowled at the dirt, arms crossed.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he mumbled, “Six. The answer is six.”

Scribonius, bless him, did not pursue his victory over Romulus in any way, instead nodding his head enthusiastically as he exclaimed, “Exactly! You got it! The zeros in this problem are meaningless. Good job, Romulus. I knew you’d figure it out.”

Romulus’ head shot up at Scribonius’ last words, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he stared at the other man, clearly trying to determine whether or not Scribonius was mocking him in any way, but that was not in Scribonius’ nature. He was truly happy at being able to teach Romulus something, and Romulus obviously saw that, so that he began to smile, beaming with pride just like he was a student in class who had been called on and given the correct answer.

“Yes, I see now. The zeros don’t matter,” he nodded.

I let out a silent sigh of relief, happy that things had not turned ugly. The instant I had the chance, I pulled Scribonius to the side to thank him for the way he treated Romulus, then made a request of my own.

“Do you think you can show me some of those tricks?” I asked. “It’s just that I’m having to do a lot of counting and addition and such, and it takes me forever to do the accounts I’m supposed to turn in.”

“How about this instead?” he asked, catching me a bit by surprise. “Why don’t I sit with you and I can do your reports for you, while you watch and learn how I do it? That way, you don’t have to worry about writing all that nonsense, and you’ll learn how the rules work.”

This made eminent sense to me, as well as pleasing me that I would have one less burden on my shoulders, and I thanked him for his offer.

“Pullus, it’s the least I can do,” he replied quietly. “Remember, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here now.”

I did not know what to say, trying to laugh it off with some lame joke, but his words touched me. We parted as I went to make my nightly report to the Pilus Prior, and again I was thankful that I had done what I did that day against the Helvetii.

Scouts brought word that the Belgic host was drawing nearer, so Caesar ordered the camp broken down and we went on the march, this time moving north to another river called the Axona (Aisne), crossing over it by the one bridge in the area. Then, with the river to our back to protect us, Caesar directed the camp to be built a short distance away. This was the most elaborate marching camp we ever created up to that point, with Caesar seeking to make the best use of the terrain. There was another small river a short distance to the north that branched off the Axona, the area around its banks a swampy mess. Caesar positioned our camp on a low hill running roughly northwest to southeast, with the southern wall of the camp a short distance from the Axona. Instructing us to make the ditch extra wide, it was 18 feet compared to his normal 15, thereby making the earthen portion of the rampart eight feet, with the stakes for the palisade adding another four in total height. In addition, he had us dig a trench extending along the axis of the
Porta Praetoria
of the camp further north down the hill, extending for almost a half mile beyond the walls, where a small fort was constructed with a scorpion and catapult for protection, manned by a Century. He had another trench dug running along the axis of the
Porta
Decumana
to the south down the opposite slope towards the river, the same length and armed in the same manner. The bridge was fortified as well, and was located perhaps a mile and a half from the main gate to our southwest. The orientation of the camp was built so that the Belgae would have to pass directly across our front to get to the bridge, which was the only way across the river for several miles. If the Belgae wanted to attack the camp directly, they would have to negotiate the morass along the smaller river, while under fire from the northernmost fort. It took us most of the day to complete the work, and it was only due to the size of the army that we were able to accomplish all that in a single day. The fort at the bridge was under the command of a Tribune named Sabinus with four Cohorts and a squadron of cavalry. It was within these fortifications that we waited for the Belgae to sweep south.

At around midnight that first night, a messenger arrived with an urgent request for help from Iccius, the Remi leader who had approached Caesar about an alliance. It turned out that the Belgae, having learned of the Remi’s choice to side with Rome, changed the direction of their march to the west to besiege the Remi’s capital at a town called Bibrax. Iccius begged Caesar to send help, since he was not confident that his small force could withstand a siege by a force of the size that was facing him. Caesar responded by sending a detachment from the auxiliary forces, consisting of Numidian javelineers, Cretan archers and Balearic slingers, all missile troops, who left shortly before dawn. Lightly armed, they were able to quickly travel the seven miles to the town, finding it completely blockaded by the Belgae, whose idea of siegecraft was to surround a town with their warriors then use missiles to scour the parapets of the enemy. Apparently their hope was that the warriors holding the town would finally become discouraged and just give up. The Belgae had no conception of siege engines, and Bibrax was built on a steep hill, with the southern approach being an escarpment, which the Belgae did not think to invest. Consequently, it was short work for our auxiliaries to drive the Belgae away from the town, who instead took out their frustration on the surrounding countryside, putting it to the torch. Satisfied that they made their point, the Belgae resumed their march towards our encampment, arriving after nightfall of the same day that they were repulsed from Bibrax, proceeding to build a camp that was so huge that they were required to use signal fires to communicate from one end to the other. Their campfires extended as far as the eye could see, with the nearest end of their camp perhaps a mile on the other side of the small river and even with the eastern end of our camp. Since the terrain was fairly flat and open and we still could not see the far end of their camp, it had to have been more than three miles in length, a fact that, even with our confidence, unnerved us a bit. It even instilled in Caesar a sense of caution, prompting him to decide to give himself more time to judge the fighting qualities of the huge army before us. To that end, the next morning he sent out a number of cavalry patrols that clashed with similar contingents of Belgae presumably sent out by Galba to do the same thing in testing our ability to fight. We were pleasantly surprised when we saw that our cavalry took the measure of their foes in every skirmish they fought that day, and this outcome convinced Caesar to send us out to challenge the Belgae the next morning.

Six Legions marched out of the camp that morning, with the 13th and 14th staying in the camp to guard it. We were in our place on the right wing, with the camp to our right rear and the other Legions arranged roughly perpendicular to the northwest corner of the camp wall. The moment the Belgae saw us march out, they began to stream out of their own camp to face us, with the small river and the morass between us. In order to attack, they would have to cross the morass, with the southern edge of it just within range of our javelins, while the far bank was in range of our artillery. The Belgae formed up just beyond this, whereupon we stood and stared at each other, our side impassively watching the Belgae work themselves up into a frenzy. However, Galba never gave the order to attack, obviously worried about the problem of crossing the swampy ground under fire. Instead they settled for shaking their weapons at us and bellowing promises of all that they would do to us, as first one individual then another among them worked up the courage to dash up to the bank of the river. Standing there, they would yell some insult at us, usually accompanied by the baring of their backside, before scurrying back to the safety of the horde before our artillerymen decided to poke a hole through them. The Belgic army was arrayed in the traditional three wings, except that because of their numbers each wing, consisting of three lines like our own, dwarfed our entire line of six Legions. Still, despite this huge advantage, they refused to advance.