V
All of Gaul is divided into three parts—the first is occupied by the Belgae, the second by the Aquitani, and the third by those called Celts in their own language, but Gauls in ours.
—CAESAR
Long ago in the mountains of central Europe arose a people known as the Celts. They spoke a language related to Greek, Latin, and Sanskrit, but they lived a very different life from their civilized cousins to the south and east. The Celts had no cities, no empires, no books or monumental temples. They were instead a fiercely independent collection of tribes who delighted in heroic warfare while at the same time being masters of poetry, art, and metalwork. About the middle of the first millennium B.C., just as Athens was embroiled in the Persian Wars and Rome was expelling her last Etruscan kings, the Celts burst out of their Alpine homeland to spread like wildfire throughout Europe and even into Asia. One of the earliest Celtic groups to leave their mountainous cradle migrated to Spain and fused with the native culture to become known as the Celtiberians. Other Celts moved west to occupy the fields and forests of Gaul, and on across the sea to Britain and Ireland. Some warriors and their families were lured to the Po Valley of northern Italy, while others moved east to Bohemia, Transylvania, and the northern Balkans. The holy shrine of Apollo at Delphi in Greece was attacked by these wandering Celts in 279 B.C., while at the same time thousands crossed into central Asia Minor to survive for centuries as the “foolish Galatians” of the New Testament. The Galatians and other mercenary Celts even served as much sought-after soldiers in the armies of Syria and Egypt.
Thus in the days of Caesar the Celts were spread far and wide throughout Europe and the Mediterranean lands. Those in Spain and Italy had been brought under the control of Rome and served as formidable soldiers in the Roman army, but the Celts of the British Isles and Gaul north of the Province still remained free. Caesar says Gaul was divided into three parts, but actually it was divided into five. In the Po Valley of northern Italy (Cisalpine Gaul to the Romans), Celtic tribes had long dominated the countryside from the Alps to the Adriatic coast. The Gauls of this region spoke the same language and worshipped the same gods as their cousins on the Loire and the Seine. The Italian Gauls had been conquered by the Romans over a century before Caesar and were well on their way to becoming part of classical civilization, but they were still Celts at heart. The second part of Gaul was the Province, stretching along the Mediterranean coast from the Pyrenees past Massalia (Marseilles today) to the Alps and up the Rhone to Lake Geneva. Here were the Gaulish Tectosages, Vocontii, and especially the Allobroges around modern Lyon—fierce warriors all but long exposed to Greek and Roman civilization. The Gaulish people of the Province were settling down nicely into a life as Roman dependents.
The final three parts of Gaul—where warriors battled in the ancient fashion and druids performed human sacrifice to the gods—lay beyond the Mediterranean watershed to the north and west. Aquitaine, north of the Pyrenees and along the Garonne River to modern Bordeaux, was a relatively small but richly productive land of tribes such as the Elusates and Tarusates. The fourth and largest part of Gaul was the enormous region beyond the Garonne and the mountainous Massif Central of southern France to the Atlantic on the west, the Rhine on the east, and the Seine to the north. Here lived dozens of the most organized Gaulish tribes, including the Arverni, Aedui, Sequani, and Helvetii in the south and east, the Carnutes around Chartres, the Veneti in Brittany, and the Parisii around Lutetia, modern Paris. Hundreds of miles north of the Province was the fabled land of the Belgae, the final region of Gaul. The Belgae were the fiercest, toughest, and least compromising of all the Gauls. Tribes such as the Nervii, Remi, and Treveri occupied the woods and dales of northern France, the Rhineland of Germany, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and their namesake, Belgium. From north to south and east to west the unconquered lands of Gaul stretched over five hundred miles over swift rivers, impenetrable swamps, bitterly cold mountains, and endless dark forests.
For centuries the classical world had heard stories of the Gauls brought back by merchants and explorers. Massalia itself was the hub of a vast trade network in tin, gold, amber, and slaves that spread up the rivers of Gaul to northern France, Germany, Britain, Ireland, and the North Sea. The Celts eagerly imported Mediterranean goods in turn, especially wine. In the decades before Caesar, Roman merchants had even begun to establish permanent trading posts among the major Gaulish tribes. These outposts were often located in fortified tribal hill forts, known in Latin as oppida. From fortresses such as Alesia of the Aedui and Gergovia of the Arverni, Gaulish leaders and warriors ruled over their tribes.
Most Gauls were simple farmers, but the wealthy military aristocracy formed an elite class that battled their enemies in a manner more like the Greek heroes on the plains of Troy than Roman legionaries. To a Gaulish warrior, honor and bravery were paramount. They would fight with dashing bravado (sometimes naked to intimidate their foes) seeing war as a chance to win eternal glory and decorate their walls with an enemy’s head. They were notoriously difficult to organize into a united force since they preferred individual combat to coordinated group actions.
Most ordinary Gauls lived in isolated farms or small villages, peacefully growing their crops and herding sheep. Houses were usually round or rectangular structures made of interwoven wood and sealed with mud. A central hearth fire served for both heating and cooking, with a small hole in the roof to allow smoke to escape. Women dominated home life and raised the children, while on the whole enjoying more freedom than their Greek and Roman counterparts. Craftsmen in the villages created amazingly sophisticated and beautiful art with abstract animal figures that echoes a thousand years later in Christian Irish manuscripts. But they also produced practical weaponry and armor that rivaled anything in the Mediterranean world. The Romans in fact had long ago adopted the Gaulish short sword called a gladius, the origin of the word gladiator.
The Gauls were polytheists and worshipped a great variety of gods, just like the Greeks and Romans. Chief among them was a divinity Caesar equates with the Roman god Mercury but known to the Gauls as Lugus (“the Shining One”). Inscriptions to him are found throughout Gaul as well as in other Celtic lands. The Irish knew him as Lug and danced before him at the summer festival of Lughnasadh. Among the countless other Gaulish gods were Belenus (the healer), Matrona (the divine mother), Cernunnos (an animal divinity), and Epona (a horse goddess later adopted by the Roman cavalry). These gods were worshipped with sacrifices at temples throughout Gaul and in small sanctuaries scattered amid villages and forests. All worship was overseen by the druids, a priestly caste of the Celts who were found in Britain and Ireland as well. Ancient authors, often eager to cast the Celts in a negative light, claimed the druids engaged in frequent human sacrifice. Archaeology has indeed shown that human sacrifice took place, but it was a rare event conducted only under extreme circumstances—and practiced by the Romans themselves on occasion. The druids, as Caesar relates, trained for up to twenty years, believed passionately in reincarnation, and were highly respected throughout Gaulish communities. These priests could even step between warring armies and call a halt to any battle. Along with the professional class of poets known by the Celtic name bardoi (hence our word bard), the druids acted as a unifying force among the quarrelsome and constantly fighting Gaulish tribes.
The Gaulish tribe of the Helvetii had long lived in the beautiful alpine valley bound by Lake Geneva on the west, the Jura range to the north, the Rhine on the east, and the soaring Alps around Mont Blanc to the south. For years they had fought to hold back fierce Germanic tribes such as the Suebi, who were relentlessly pressing on their territory. The Celts had originally controlled the area to the north of the Alps, but by the second century B.C. the Germans were pushing the native Gaulish tribes out of the region. The Helvetii had resisted this pressure by virtue of their numbers and skill at warfare, but by the late sixties B.C. even the bravest of the Helvetian warriors were tired of constant battles against the Germans. The increasing population was also putting tremendous pressure on the farmers of the tribe to produce enough food from their mountain valley.
In 61 B.C., a wealthy Helvetii nobleman named Orgetorix proposed a solution to the tribe’s dual problems of constant warfare and growing population—mass migration. Orgetorix urged the Helvetian leaders to pack up the entire tribe and resettle in the rich land of southwest Gaul near the Atlantic. Yes, he admitted, there was already a Gaulish tribe there, the Santones, who would resist such a takeover, but they were no match for the mighty Helvetian warriors, who were raised from childhood fighting the barbarous Germans. The Helvetii thought this was a marvelous idea and began their preparations. They planned to stay in their valley for two more years to give themselves time to lay in a surplus of grain for the three-hundred-mile journey. They also decided to invite their nearby Celtic neighbors to join them, including a group of Boii tribesmen who had recently been driven out of their home in eastern Europe by Germans and Dacians. The two-year delay would also give the Helvetii time to negotiate peace treaties with their rivals the Aedui and Sequani to the west so that they would not be harassed during their migration.
Orgetorix, however, had much more in mind than a simple journey across Gaul. He was already a mighty voice among the Helvetii, but he longed to rule the tribe as a king. His dream was to forge an alliance with the powerful Aedui and Sequani to take over all of Gaul. Thus, under the guise of negotiating safe passage for the Helvetii on their march, he conspired with the leaders of the Sequani and Aedui to conquer Gaul. One important faction of the Aedui at the time was led by Dumnorix, brother of the druid Diviciacus, who had served as ambassador for his people to Rome. Diviciacus was staunchly pro-Roman, but his popular brother, Dumnorix, despised the empire to the south. Dumnorix saw the alliance proposed by Orgetorix as a force to counter Rome’s increasing influence in Gaul and to increase his own power (Dumnorix is, after all, Gaulish for “king of the world”). With the Helvetii and Sequani on his side, they could form a mighty Gallic empire stretching from the Alps to the sea. Like Caesar, Crassus, and Pompey at about the same time, the Gaulish leaders swore a secret oath to seal their bargain, with Dumnorix likewise giving Orgetorix his daughter in marriage.
But the eternal truth of conspiracies is that they never remain secret. Informers reported the plans of Orgetorix to the Helvetian leaders, who promptly had him put in chains. He was brought before the tribal assembly to face judgment for his misdeeds but, in a move worthy of a Roman politician, Orgetorix packed the assembly with his followers and forced a mistrial. The Helvetian elders were so incensed at this breach of tradition that they determined to punish Orgetorix and so began collecting warriors to storm his stronghold. At this point Orgetorix suddenly died. Some said it was suicide, but most of the Helvetii, and Caesar, suspected foul play.
Even though Orgetorix was dead and his conspiracy shattered, the Helvetii were still determined to follow his plan and abandon their valley for a new homeland across Gaul. They gathered together the food and transport they would need for the long journey and decided to make a permanent break with their old land by burning down all the hill forts and villages in their mountain home. In this way, no one would be tempted to turn back if the migration became too difficult. They set a date of March 28, 58 B.C. to set forth, just as the last of the winter snows were melting from the lower valleys. There were only two possible routes of escape open to the Helvetii. The first was a narrow road northwest through the Jura Mountains, along ravines wide enough only for a single cart, and down into the land of the Sequani. But such a slow and perilous passage along mountain paths could be hampered by only a few determined enemies blockading the way or attacking from above. The second choice was to head southwest out of their valley until they reached the border of the Allobroges at the lakeside town of Geneva. The tribal leaders decided that this was by far the preferable route as they could cross the Rhone there by bridge or even ford the river if necessary. But Geneva was also the beginning of Roman territory. The Helvetii, however, felt they could persuade the Allobroges as fellow Gauls to allow them passage through their lands and across the northern tip of the Province on their way to the Atlantic. If the Allobroges were not cooperative, the Helvetii felt sure they could convince them by force of arms.
Warfare in Caesar’s time was a bloody, face-to-face affair in which men hacked, stabbed, and killed their opponents. It was also a normal and natural part of life. If your city possessed fertile land, abundant crops, or valuable goods, there would always be an enemy who wanted to take them from you. If you sensed weakness in a neighboring town, more likely than not you would try to conquer them or at least force them to serve your state as subordinate allies. If you wanted to maintain your independence, you kept your army strong. In this the Romans were like the Greeks, Germans, Celts, and everyone else in the ancient world. But unlike everyone else, the Romans perfected an army that allowed them to conquer the world.
The keys to the legendary power of the Roman military were flexibility and organization. The Romans dearly loved tradition and might celebrate religious rituals long after their meaning was forgotten, but they were quick to learn new ways of fighting and to discard outdated military techniques. If the Parthians defeated them in battle using a new type of spear, Roman forges would soon be glowing bright as they copied the new weapon for themselves. What ultimately made the Romans unbeatable were not weapons, however, or well-trained leaders (since Roman generals, like politicians, were essentially amateurs), but the Roman genius for fighting as a unit. Homer might sing of individual heroes challenging each other to battle on the plains of Troy, but the Roman army was a machine.
Our sources for the Roman military in the earliest days of the Republic are sparse, but we know that at least by the late third century B.C. the Roman army had developed the basic characteristics that would define it for centuries to come. At the heart of the Roman army was the heavy infantry formed by men who possessed enough wealth to outfit themselves with armor and weapons. From the beginning the Roman military was a citizen army that fought more or less willingly to protect their city and gain a share of the spoils of war. Each infantryman wore metal armor over a tunic to protect his upper torso. Chain mail of linked iron rings was best but frightfully expensive, forcing most to use cheaper rigid armor. On his head was a padded helmet, sometimes with cheek pieces to protect the jaws or capped with a feathered plume. The vulnerable legs gained some protection from greaves over the shins, but Romans’ limbs were largely left uncovered to allow freedom of movement. Each infantryman carried more than one pilum or javelin that was used for stabbing rather than throwing. This heavy weapon, over six feet long with a large barbed head, was designed to punch through an opponent’s shield and skewer him. If it missed his body, it would at least break off and lodge in his shield making it heavier and more awkward to wield while the Roman grabbed his second javelin and tried again. The Roman sword was short and used for stabbing rather than swinging. Each Roman soldier also carried a large shield about four feet high and two feet wide. Secured on the left arm, it was constructed of layered wood covered in thick leather and weighed at least twenty pounds. This hefty shield provided effective protection from all but the fiercest blows, but was also useful as an offensive weapon to knock opponents to the ground.
No matter how well-equipped the individual Roman soldier, it was the army’s arrangement and discipline on the battlefield that won or lost a fight. The military was organized in legions of four to six thousand infantry. These would advance across a battlefield in three lines of thirty staggered units called maniples—so that a Roman legion looked much like the squares of a checkerboard moving ever forward. Unlike the solid lines of other armies, these gaps gave the Romans great flexibility in rough terrain. Each maniple consisted of two centuries (a century equalling 100 men), each led by a centurion and a standard bearer. The maniples in the front line were the hastati (“spearmen”), all younger soldiers who clashed with the enemy first. Behind them were theprincipes (“first men”), made up of seasoned warriors in their twenties and thirties, followed by the triarii (“third-line”) maniples of the most experienced fighters. A skilled commander could use this checkerboard system to great advantage, shifting forces around the battlefield as needed. Legions also included allied infantry forces and cavalry ready to assist. This basic structure of the Republican army would last until the end of Roman rule in Europe.
Caesar received word of the Helvetian plan and their departure date as he lay camped outside of Rome in mid-March. Clodius was busy at the time stirring up every kind of imaginable trouble in Rome, especially for Cicero, but Caesar had no time to waste on Roman politics. He moved from Rome to the northern tip of the Roman province of Gaul at astonishing speed, arriving at the Allobrogian town of Geneva scarcely before anyone knew he had left Italy. On the way, he began recruiting troops from Transalpine Gaul because there was only one legion in the Province at the time. He immediately ordered the bridge across the Rhone at Geneva demolished and waited for the Helvetii to approach him. Caesar was anxious for a victory to strengthen his military credentials at home, but he had legitimate reasons as well for resisting the Helvetii. Any march they made across the Roman Province would throw the land of the Allobroges into chaos as the Helvetii could scarcely be expected to behave themselves properly and refrain from pillage. Once they reached a new home in southwest Gaul, they would be a constant danger to Roman towns on and near the Mediterranean, such as the Roman center at Tolosa (modern Toulouse). In addition, the vacated alpine homeland of the Helvetii bordering the Roman territory would almost certainly be occupied by German tribes, who would pose an even greater threat to peace in southern Gaul than the Helvetii. Finally, it was not lost on Caesar that the Helvetii had deeply shamed the Romans by defeating them in battle fifty years earlier and forcing the survivors to march under a yoke. The Roman sense of justice demanded retribution.
The Helvetii soon sent two of their elder noblemen to parlay with Caesar at Geneva. They presented their case saying they did not seek a fight with the Romans, only passage through their lands. Caesar replied that he would have to think about their request and that they should return on April 13 for his answer. Of course Caesar had already made up his mind, but he needed more time for his troops to arrive at Geneva and to strengthen his defenses. As soon as the Helvetii ambassadors left, Caesar demonstrated one of his keenest talents, that of a combat engineer, by rapidly constructing a massive earthen wall nineteen miles long to seal off the entire Alpine valley of the Helvetii from Roman territory. From the Jura Mountains all the way to Lake Geneva, sixteen feet high with ditches in front and forts along its length, this forerunner of later works such as Hadrian’s Wall across Scotland stood as an impenetrable barrier to the migrating Gauls.
When the Helvetian elders returned on the appointed date, they stared in awe at a formidable barricade as high as three men stretching across the entire plain. Just a month earlier their way had seemed clear and easy, but now this upstart Roman general had dared to fence in tens of thousands of Gaulish warriors. Caesar told the ambassadors what by now was obvious—he rejected their request to pass through Roman territory and he would repel them by force if necessary. The Helvetii were not about to give up easily and so began to test the Roman defenses along the wall by day and night, always seeking a weak spot. Caesar, however, did not believe in weak spots. His men on the wall repelled all Gaulish attempts to break through, while his troops along the river and lake stopped anyone trying to sneak across by boat.
The Helvetii were infuriated by this point, but were utterly frustrated by Caesar’s unexpected defensive tactics. In desperation, they turned to the narrow mountain path through the Jura and the land of the Sequani as their only other option. But as the Sequani could easily block this trail if they wished or attack them once they descended, they determined not to try this northern route unless they first secured the agreement of the Sequani leaders. It was no surprise when the Sequani leaders also forbade them passage across their land, believing, as did Caesar, that the Helvetii would bring turmoil to any territory they entered. The Helvetii then turned to Orgetorix’s former coconspirator, the Aedui leader Dumnorix, to intercede for them. Dumnorix was friendly with both the Sequani and Helvetii, having a reputation for fairness and generosity. Dumnorix cheerfully agreed, but like most politicians he had his own reasons for cooperating, namely his burning desire to increase his already significant power in eastern Gaul by acting as a powerbroker between hostile tribes. Dumnorix arranged for the Helvetii to give important hostages to the Sequani as a guarantee of their good behavior. If they ransacked the land as they passed through, the Sequani could then kill the Helvetian hostages. The Sequani would also give their own hostages to the Helvetii as a guarantee they would not betray them and attack as they crossed their territory.
Caesar soon learned of the new plans of the Helvetii and realized he was facing a much larger problem than battling one tribe of angry Gauls along a defended wall. If the Helvetii broke loose into central Gaul they could cause untold havoc that would threaten the Province and destabilize the whole country, encouraging further German movements into Gaul. The troops he possessed were not sufficient to handle this threat, so Caesar handed over defense of the wall to his old comrade Labienus, who was serving as his chief lieutenant in Gaul. Caesar himself rode quickly back to northern Italy and collected three legions he had kept there in reserve. He also made good use of his long patronage of Italian Gaul by recruiting two further legions from among the Celtic natives of the region. With five legions of Romanized Gauls, he set off to fight their untamed cousins beyond the Alps.
There was no time for a leisurely march along the Mediterranean past Massalia and up the Rhone to the land of the Allobroges. Instead, in a move typical of Caesar, he led his troops west past the modern Italian city of Turin into the snow-covered Alps by paths and passes no other Roman general would have even considered. Wild mountain tribes blocked his advance, but Caesar broke through and forced his way down into the Rhone valley. Already he was making his young recruits believe in themselves and him by moving faster and harder than anyone thought possible.
In the time that it had taken Caesar to bring troops from Italy, the Helvetii had already moved out of the mountains, past the Sequani, and down into the lands of the Aedui. As predicted, they were looting and burning as they went, prompting the Aedui leaders to dispatch an embassy to Caesar requesting his intervention to protect their lands. As the Aedui had long been on friendly terms with Rome and had aided them in their wars against the Allobroges and Arverni in southern Gaul, they had a compelling case for expecting Roman help. The Helvetii, the Aedui claimed, were ravaging their lands, enslaving their children, and causing devastation and chaos just over the borders from the Roman province. Caesar could not have been happier. Here was the perfect excuse to intervene in Gaul—a formal plea for help from a long-standing Roman ally. Even the most obstructionist senators back in Rome could only approve if Caesar intervened to protect Roman interests in Gaul. Indeed, if he did not, they would surely condemn him for not carrying out his duties as a provincial governor. Even Dumnorix was happy, since the Helvetian invasion of his own tribal lands and subsequent Roman intervention bred just the sort of chaos he needed to overthrow the established order.
Caesar quickly led his army beyond the Rhone and north past the modern city of Lyon. At the sluggish Saône River, thousands of Helvetian warriors and their families were busy crossing to the western side over a rickety bridge made of rafts bound together. As Gauls were not known for their engineering skills, it had taken them twenty days of hard labor to construct this bridge. Caesar watched from afar until three-quarters of the tribe had moved across, then the Romans pounced. The bridge itself was easily blocked to prevent any assistance from their countrymen, then the legions turned to the Gauls still on the eastern shore and began cutting them down. Many of the Helvetii were slain on the spot, while others managed to flee exhausted into the woods. To the Gauls watching from the west bank, it was a cowardly and dishonorable attack. But Caesar was not interested in Gaulish notions of heroic warfare—he was heavily outnumbered and determined to win by any means necessary. He was often merciful to a vanquished enemy, but only after the battle.
With a quarter of the Helvetii now either dead or scattered, Caesar quickly moved to pursue the rest who had already marched northwest into the heartland of the Aedui. Whereas it had taken the Gaulish invaders twenty days to build a bridge across the Saône, Caesar did it in one and immediately began moving his army across. The Helvetii were so unnerved by the destruction of part of their tribe and by the incredible speed of the Romans that they sent a respected elder named Divico to speak with Caesar. Divico had been a young commander of the Helvetii army almost fifty years earlier when they had defeated the legions sent against them and slain a Roman consul. Divico brought a very generous proposal to Caesar—if he would make peace with the Helvetii, they would be willing to settle down in any reasonable part of Gaul he selected. But if he continued to make war on them, he should remember that only by treachery had the Romans defeated a small portion of their people on the banks of the Saône. The Helvetii, he pointedly reminded Caesar, had learned from their ancestors to fight with courage like true men and did not rely on tricks. They had easily crushed a Roman army half a century before and were perfectly capable of doing it again.
Caesar listen politely, then told Divico that he was well aware of the Helvetii victory years past. For that very reason the Romans were determined to seek revenge. In addition, he could not allow the Helvetii to settle peacefully among the Gaulish tribes after they had already caused so much havoc. However, Caesar continued, he was a generous man and would allow the Helvetii to return home to their mountain valley if they would surrender hostages to the Romans to guarantee their good behavior in the future. In addition, they must pay a large reparation to the Aedui, whose lands they had ravaged. Just as Caesar knew he would, old Divico reddened in fury and spat back at Caesar that the Helvetii might take hostages from the Romans, but they would never give them. With that, the Gaulish embassy stormed out of the Roman camp.
The Helvetii had good reason to be confident since, even though they had lost a quarter of their warriors, they were still a formidable force far outnumbering the Romans. Because of this Caesar took a cautious approach and followed the Helvetii at a distance as they moved north over the hills deep into Aedui territory. The Romans relied almost exclusively on foreign allies for cavalry support in their wars, so Caesar had recruited four thousand horsemen from the Gauls of the Province and from the Aedui. He chose as their captain none other than the popular Aeduan leader Dumnorix, a man he had no reason to distrust as he knew nothing of his secretive dealings with the Helvetii. As the cavalry followed the Helvetii closely, Dumnorix spurred his men on to attack the enemy rearguard, contrary to Caesar’s orders. Since the ground was unfavorable to horses, the Helvetii routed the allied cavalry. As Dumnorix had intended, the Helvetii were greatly encouraged by this victory just as the Romans were thoroughly disheartened.
Caesar was also having serious supply problems. Since Roman troops routinely lived off the land and relied on grain requisitioned from nearby tribes, Caesar had counted on his Aeduan allies to provide his troops with most of the food they needed during the campaign. But the Aedui were full of excuses why this wasn’t happening—the weather was too cold, the grain wasn’t ripe, there were problems with transport—but they assured him the rations would be at the Roman camp soon. After being put off repeatedly, Caesar realized his army was now in a dangerous situation far from Roman territory and cut off from any reliable supplies. He called a council of the Aeduan leaders, including his friend Diviciacus and his brother, Dumnorix. Among those at the council was the Aeduan magistrate named Liscus, who warned Caesar darkly of treacherous plots against his army by some of his Aeduan countrymen. Liscus explained that as elected leader of the Aedui, he was doing everything he could to bring grain to the Romans, but that certain powerful, unnamed figures in the tribe were blocking his efforts. These conspirators were claiming that if they helped Caesar defeat the Helvetii, the Romans would then take over Gaul for themselves.
Caesar suspected Dumnorix at once. He dismissed the meeting but kept back Diviciacus and questioned him privately about his brother’s actions. Diviciacus broke down and confessed that he also had heard such stories about Dumnorix, but had been bound by family loyalty not to betray his brother. He told Caesar that Dumnorix hated the Romans and wanted to be king of the Aedui. His brother was a charismatic figure adored by the common people who saw him as a champion of their rights against the entrenched nobility. Caesar must have marveled at how politics was the same whether in Rome or among barbarian tribes. He called in Dumnorix and told the would-be Catiline to his face that he knew all about his treacherous actions. Any other Roman general would then have promptly separated Dumnorix’s head from his body, but Caesar, out of respect for his brother, Diviciacus, instead pardoned Dumnorix and placed him under guard.
Meanwhile, Caesar’s situation was growing ever more dire as he moved farther into the hills and forests of central Gaul. He desperately needed to maneuver the Helvetii into a battle where he could use his smaller number of troops to the best advantage. The ideal opportunity soon arose when his scouts reported that the Helvetii had made camp at the base of a hill about eight miles to the north. If Caesar could get some of his troops on top of that hill, they could advance against the enemy from above—always an advantage in war. He could then bring the rest of his army from the opposite direction and trap the Helvetii between his soldiers descending from the hill and his main force in the valley. It was a perfect plan, but it all depended on speed and secrecy. Caesar immediately sent Labienus by night with two legions on a fast march to the opposite side of the hill from where the Helvetii were camped. In absolute silence, eight thousand men climbed over ridges and around trees until they reached the summit, at last gazing far below at the campfires of the Helvetii. At the same time, Caesar led the rest of the army through the night along the valley floor until they were a little over a mile from the Helvetii. Caesar quickly sent one of his most experienced veterans, Publius Considius, to confirm that Labienus was ready to spring the trap. It wasn’t long until Considius was galloping back into the Roman camp to report that he had seen Gaulish troops swarming over the hill that Labienus should have taken. Cursing his luck, Caesar retreated with his army to a small hill nearby and drew up his troops in line to await the attack he knew was coming. Hour after hour, Caesar’s troops stood ready for their first and perhaps last major battle. But as the day wore on, there was no attack. Finally, a messenger from Labienus rode into camp asking why Caesar had not launched an assault, as Labienus was under strict orders to do nothing until he saw the main army storming the Helvetii camp. It turned out that Considius had been completely mistaken as Labienus’s troops had been holding the hill undetected for many hours. To make matters worse, the Helvetii had now moved their camp from under the hill and far away to the north.
It is to Caesar’s credit that in his Gallic War he never hesitates to reveal the many mistakes he made during his campaigns. A military genius he was, but even the best generals can be confounded by the fog of war. Caesar was now in a truly perilous situation as his troops had only a two-day supply of food remaining and—more to his chagrin—had seen their commander let a golden opportunity for victory slip through his fingers. His pride would heal, but Caesar knew he had to find food for his troops quickly. His only chance lay almost twenty miles north at the hill fort of Bibracte, chief city of the Aedui. This enormous citadel loomed over the surrounding fields and held more than enough grain to feed his troops for many weeks. Thus Caesar ceased his pursuit of the Helvetii and turned his men towards Bibracte.
The Helvetii heard of Caesar’s change of plans almost immediately from Gaulish deserters who had decided the Romans were a lost cause. The Helvetii had already learned of Caesar’s fiasco beneath the hill the previous night; now they believed the Romans were panicking and could be easily finished off. The Helvetian leaders turned their army after Caesar and struck the Roman rearguard before Caesar’s troops could reach Bibracte. While his allied cavalry held back the Helvetian advance for a few precious minutes, Caesar quickly stationed four of his legions halfway up a steeply sloping hill. He placed the rest of his troops on top of the hill along with all their equipment and remaining supplies. The Roman army then stood in formation while tens of thousands of Helvetian warriors marched up the valley and finally turned to face the smaller Roman force. The Helvetii knew the Roman soldiers were hungry, tired, and still inexperienced, most of them farm boys from the Province and northern Italy. Now the grim-faced Helvetian warriors, veterans of countless victories against the Germans, stood gazing with contempt at the Roman troops and thirsting for revenge.
Caesar was about to lead the first great fight of his life. Of course, he had directed many minor skirmishes in Spain and had supervised the previous ambush of the Helvetii, but never before was he responsible for the lives of thousands of men in a formal battle. He and every one of the troops with him knew that if they failed to defeat the Helvetii on this hillside, there was little chance any of them would ever see home again. The first thing Caesar did after drawing up his men was to send away his horse—and to make sure all his men saw him doing it. Caesar’s horse was a unique animal born with cloven hoofs that looked almost like human toes. Soothsayers had declared at its birth that its master would someday rule the world, so Caesar had taken the greatest care in rearing the foal. The horse adored Caesar and would not allow anyone else to ride it. The affection was returned by his master, who would one day dedicate a statue of the beast at the temple of his ancestral deity, Venus, but for now the horse was led away along with the mounts of the other officers. Caesar wanted his men to know that he would face with them whatever fate lay ahead. Finally, he used his oratorical skills to deliver a short but powerful speech of encouragement to his troops—then the battle began.
The Helvetii were not pleased to be fighting an enemy that had the advantage of the high ground, but they so outnumbered the Romans that they must have felt confident. They could, however, expect the Romans to use their position to a defensive advantage, forcing the Helvetii to march up the hill to them. The Gauls were therefore surprised when they saw the Roman troops moving swiftly down the slope toward them. When they were just a few dozen yards from the mass of Helvetian warriors, the legionaries launched their deadly javelins at the Gauls. A few Helvetii fell, but most of the javelins stuck firmly into their large wooden shields. More volleys from the Roman lines sent countless javelins toward the Gauls until their shields were weighted down with the heavy iron points that could not be removed even after the wooden shafts had been broken off. In frustration, most of the Helvetii in the front lines simply threw away their shields and fought without cover. This gave the Romans a tremendous advantage as they drew their swords and charged in close formation straight at the Helvetii.
The Gauls broke under the Roman charge and retreated as they fought, many with serious wounds, across the bottom of the valley then up the opposite hillside. The Romans had managed to win the first part of the battle, but they slowed as they were now forced to fight while charging uphill. At this point, the Boii and the other allies of the Helvetii who had stood in reserve up the valley attacked the Romans on their right flank. This forced Caesar to split his already smaller force in two to attack the Helvetii on the hill in front of them and the fresh Boian troops who were now hitting them from the side. The Romans were hard pressed to fight on two fronts, but Caesar managed to hold his men together as the battle turned into a grueling struggle for survival that lasted long into the evening. At last the Helvetian defense collapsed, with some retreating north into the forests while others made a final stand around their baggage carts. As the last of the light was dying in the west, the Romans finally destroyed the remaining Helvetian warriors who, according to Caesar, had not once turned their backs on the Romans in an attempt to flee.
Caesar captured several daughters of the late Helvetian leader Orgetorix among the baggage carts as well as one of his sons, but many thousands of their fellow tribesmen had managed to escape. Still, when the count was completed, at least half of the Helvetii who had faced the Romans with such confidence that morning were now either dead or captured. Those who had fled sought refuge among the Lingones tribe just to the north, but Caesar had already dispatched messengers to the Lingones warning that if they aided the Helvetii in any way, he would treat them as enemies of Rome. Shut out of the Lingones’ land and facing the victorious Romans at their back, the Helvetii were sure they would be overwhelmed at any moment by Caesar. But Caesar’s troops were so exhausted and so many were suffering from wounds that they could not have pursued the Helvetii if they had wanted to. It took Caesar three whole days to tend to the wounded and bury the dead before he could move his army north to follow the escaping Gauls.
The embassy from the Helvetii found Caesar’s army marching north. They threw themselves at his feet and sought his mercy, saying that they had no food and only wanted peace. Caesar granted their petition, insisting that they return to their mountain valley and serve there as a defense against German encroachment into Gaul. They would be granted enough grain and seed to begin their lives again, provided that they surrender hostages to him as a guarantee of their good intentions and that they hand over any slaves who had deserted to them from the Roman army. The Helvetian legates agreed at once and returned to their camp to fulfill the terms. But during the night some of the tribe broke away and made a dash to the Rhine to seek sanctuary among Germans, fearing that Caesar would slaughter them all once they had lain down their arms. The Romans quickly rounded up these fugitives and Caesar—not one to show clemency twice—had them all enslaved or killed.
Among the remains of the Helvetian camp Caesar found tablets written in the Gaulish language but using Greek letters. The druids were forbidden to record any of their secrets in writing, but ordinary Gauls used the Greek, Etruscan, and Roman alphabets to write down everything from tax records and epitaphs to erotic messages and magic spells. The tablets that Caesar uncovered were a census of all the Helvetii and their allies, recording that over three hundred thousand men, women, and children had set off from Lake Geneva weeks before to seek a new land in western Gaul. Caesar now conducted his own census and discovered that barely a third of them would be returning home.
Caesar had won the first great military victory of his career and could report to the Senate that the Province and Italy itself were finally safe from the marauding Helvetii. Since slaves taken in a war traditionally belonged to the victorious commander, Caesar could also make a tidy sum selling his captives to the eager slave traders who followed ancient armies on campaign. But the Romans were not the only ones pleased with the Helvetian defeat. Caesar writes that representatives from most of the Gaulish tribes converged on his camp and expressed their gratitude for his victory over their rapacious countrymen. Undoubtedly, the enthusiasm for a major Roman victory in the heart of Gaul was not unanimous as Caesar records, but there was genuine relief from most tribes that the Helvetii were out of the way. The prospect of thousands of Helvetian warriors running amok through the countryside was terrifying even to those Gaulish tribes who hated Rome. The Gauls had to admit that the mighty empire to the south had so far shown no interest in expanding its territory north of the Mediterranean basin. The legions might march into Gaul on occasion to punish an unruly tribe or stand up for an ally such as the Aedui, but they always returned to the warm lands of the Province as winter approached. The Gauls saw no reason why Caesar should be any different.
Confident that Rome had no long-term interest in conquering Gaul, the tribal leaders asked if they could hold a private meeting with Caesar to discuss a pressing matter of mutual concern. They chose Caesar’s trusted friend Diviciacus as spokesman and swore an oath to the Celtic gods that no one would reveal what they were about to say. Diviciacus then explained to Caesar that two of the major Gaulish tribes, the Sequani and the Arverni, had conspired with the Germans to gain power over the rest of Gaul. They had invited the brutal Germanic chieftain Ariovistus to intervene against the Gaulish Aedui and their allies. At first, this had gone well since only a small number of German warriors had crossed the Rhine. But Ariovistus had refused to return to Germany when he was no longer needed and had instead brought more than a hundred thousand of his wild countrymen to settle in Gaul. He had forced many of the Gaulish tribes to surrender children to him as hostages—if the Gauls failed to do his bidding, he tortured their sons and daughters in the most unspeakable ways until they changed their minds. Now more and more Germans were pouring across the Rhine every year, so that soon all of Gaul would be overrun by these barbarians. The Gaulish tribes could not fight the Germans alone. Many were in fact already making plans to emigrate just like the Helvetii, threatening massive instability in western Europe that was sure to spill over into Roman territory. The only hope of the Gaulish people was if the Romans would intervene and drive the Germans out. Even the Sequanian delegates at the meeting were now anxious for Caesar to come to their aid. If the previous request of the Aedui for Roman assistance had been convenient for Caesar’s plans, a plea from a whole confederation of Gaulish tribes to protect them from the Germans was a dream come true.
In Caesar’s report of this council to his Roman readers, he is at great pains to explain why it was necessary for him to fight the Germans in Gaul. His previous war against the Helvetii was less controversial as they had clearly threatened the Province, but German incursions across the Rhine were still far to the north of Roman territory. Caesar argues his case step-by-step like the lawyer he was. First, the Gauls, most especially the longtime Roman allies the Aedui, had formally requested his assistance. Second, the act of mistreating hostages from among the friends of the Roman people was a slur against Rome itself. Third and most importantly, Ariovistus was leading Germans by the thousands into Gaul. It was only a matter of time, Caesar stresses, before they moved south to threaten the Province and even Italy just as the dreaded Cimbri and Teutones had done half a century before. The Germans could soon be at the gates of Rome unless he stopped them.
Caesar conveniently downplays the fact that he himself had been a major supporter of Ariovistus when the Germanic leader had earlier sought Roman friendship. Nevertheless, as disingenuous as Caesar is in his narrative at this point, he was absolutely right to call the Germans a threat to Rome. For many years the Germanic tribes had been spreading steadily southward out of their homeland in northern Europe. With their exploding population and unmatched skill in war, they had already pushed the Celts out of southern Germany and were now threatening Gaul. The Alps would be no real barrier to the Germans if they decided to cross into Italy. But if Caesar could stop them at the Rhine, Rome would be safe for many years to come.
The Germans, dwelling as they did in the dark forests and distant shores of northern Europe, were a great mystery to the Romans. In fact, aside from a few scattered remarks by traders and explorers, Caesar gives us the earliest extensive description of the Germanic people. Like the Gauls, the Germans never saw themselves as a nation but rather as independent tribes with a related language and culture, who were more often than not at war with each other. Caesar speaks from experience when he describes them as fierce warriors with little use for farming or luxuries such as wine. Instead, they prided themselves on bravery in battle and toughness developed by bathing in freezing streams from childhood. They were especially skilled at cavalry warfare, though they scoffed at anyone who used a saddle. Those who betrayed their people or showed cowardice in war were subject to execution by the warriors of the tribal assembly, either by hanging from a tree or drowning in a bog.
There were tribal kings among the Germans, but real power lay with military leaders such as Ariovistus, who could inspire and reward any warriors who chose to follow them. The Germans worshipped a multitude of gods and were especially devoted to divination conducted by priestesses, who would cut branches from a nut-bearing tree, strip them of bark, then cast them on a white cloth. If the lots promised good fortune, then business could proceed; but if the branches were ill-omened, nothing—not even battles—could take place.
Caesar was determined to try diplomacy with the Germans before he committed himself to war. He invited Ariovistus to a meeting at a neutral spot halfway between their two armies, but the German leader sent back a message saying that if Caesar wanted to talk, he would have to come to the German camp. Ariovistus haughtily added that it was no business of Caesar’s what he or any other German might do in Gaul. Caesar refused to be provoked and instead sent a letter laying out three conditions of peace between Ariovistus and Rome—first, he would bring no more Germans across the Rhine; second, he would return all Gaulish hostages; and third, he would no longer make war on any Gaulish tribe. Caesar added that if these conditions were not met, he would be forced by honor to defend the interests of the Gauls in battle. It is notable that Caesar did not demand that Ariovistus return back across the Rhine. Unlike the Helvetii, he would be permitted with his people to remain in Gaul.
Ariovistus, however, did not see Caesar’s conditions as generous. He sent back yet another message asking who on earth Caesar thought he was issuing demands and threatening him with war when he had done no more than the Romans themselves had accomplished all over the Mediterranean. Rome conquered any land that suited its fancy and never asked permission in doing so nor suffered interference from any third party. He would not release any Gaulish hostages and, if Caesar knew what was good for him, he would withdraw his troops back to the Province before he was taught a bloody lesson on just how unbeatable the Germans really were.
As Caesar was reading the message from Ariovistus, he received a report from the tribes of the Aedui and the Gaulish Treveri to the north that a German people called the Harudes were ransacking their lands. In addition, a huge number of Germans were gathering on the eastern bank of the Rhine ready to cross into Gaul. Rightly expecting that Ariovistus was behind these new threats, Caesar realized that if additional Germans joined Ariovistus in Gaul, his task of driving them out might become impossible. The time for talk was over, so he set out immediately for the Gaulish fortress of Vesontio (modern Besançon) halfway to the Rhine to seize this strategic and well-supplied base before Ariovistus could lay claim to it. By forced marches day and night, Caesar reached the town ahead of the Germans and posted a garrison there to hold the citadel for the Romans.
Through dark, silent forests unlike anything the Romans had ever seen, Caesar led his army from Vesontio toward the Rhine and Ariovistus. His men found themselves marching through endless woods so thick the trees blocked out the sun for days at a time. Soon a cold panic began to spread through the army. Those few who had seen Germans before whispered around campfires that these barbarians were giants, ferocious in battle, with eyes so piercing you couldn’t look them in the face. Some of the wealthy young men Caesar had brought along from Rome to gain experience in war suddenly began to think of reasons they were needed at home. Others, too ashamed to leave, were found weeping in their tents or exchanging the latest grim rumors with their companions. The common soldiers were soon overcome by the same fear and began to make out their wills. Even older experienced soldiers—proven centurions and cavalry commanders—who had fought in battles throughout the Mediterranean started to feel panic creeping up their bones. Some tried to hide their fear by claiming it wasn’t really the Germans they were worried about but the impenetrable forest or the uncertain grain supply. Murmurings even arose among some who declared they would not move a step closer to the Germans no matter what Caesar ordered.
Caesar realized this mutiny was potentially the most difficult challenge he had ever faced. If he could not control his own army, he was finished as a military leader and would be laughed out of public life by Cato and the optimates back in Rome. But like most challenges, Caesar approached this crisis boldly in an unexpected fashion. He immediately called together not his officers and tribunes, but the dozens of veteran centurions who were the true backbone of his army. These sergeants of the Roman legions were all seasoned soldiers who directed life in the camp and on the march—and most importantly, stood by their men on the line in the heat of battle. Caesar knew if he could persuade them, the rest of the army would follow. Spoiled young tribunes from the nobility of Rome he could deal with or even do without, but he had to have the centurions on his side.
Instead of negotiating or promising them rewards as other generals might have, he struck at the centurions with a furious passion—who do you think you are, he demanded, to question where I am leading you? You are Roman soldiers, part of the greatest army the world has ever seen. Your job is to obey the orders of your commander and lead your men into whatever battle I deem fit. You might not even have to fight Ariovistus if the fool will listen to reason—but even if you do, what are you afraid of? Marius destroyed a much larger German army in the time of your grandfathers. And you yourselves just conquered the Helvetii, a tribe that had defeated Germans countless times before. Ariovistus is a coward who hides in swamps and strikes like a bandit out of the woods. He will collapse before our army on the battlefield. You won’t follow me? Fine, we’re packing up and marching against Ariovistus tonight. If you don’t know the meaning of Roman duty and honor—if you are cowards—then stay here. I’ll march with the tenth legion alone, brave lads who have always stood by me, and we’ll conquer the Germans on our own while you lot crawl home in disgrace.
Caesar’s centurions were so shamed by his words that they immediately declared their willingness to follow him anywhere. Legates and officers then fell all over themselves explaining that their hesitancy had all been a misunderstanding and that their loyalty to Caesar was unwavering. Caesar graciously accepted their explanations and considered the matter closed. When they struck camp that night, not a single man stayed behind. On the other hand, Caesar was wise enough to have Diviciacus lay out a new path toward the Germans that avoided the dense forest, even though it added an extra fifty miles to their journey.
After a weeklong march the Roman army drew near to the camp of Ariovistus and the Rhine. The German leader sent a message that he was now willing to meet with Caesar, but he was very cautious and sent numerous deputies back and forth to the Roman camp to negotiate the details of the talks. His key demand was that Caesar bring no infantry with him to the meeting, only a cavalry escort. As Ariovistus well knew, all of Caesar’s cavalry were Gauls and could not necessarily be trusted to follow orders or guard their commander wholeheartedly. To remedy this, Caesar had members of his trusted tenth legion mount the Gallic horses instead and accompany him to the meeting. These legionaries laughed, saying that Caesar certainly had great faith in them since he was demoting them to common horse soldiers, but they were genuinely touched that he entrusted his life to them.
Ariovistus was so edgy when they arrived at the appointed meeting place at a mound in the center of a nearby open plain that he insisted they bring forward only ten men each to the negotiations and that both he and Caesar should converse on horseback. Caesar began by telling Ariovistus face-to-face what he had said in his previous message—that the Germans must stop their movement across the Rhine and treat the Aedui honorably. Ariovistus contemptuously replied that he was acting according to the laws of war and would do as he wished with what he regarded as his portion of Gaul. He didn’t need Caesar’s approval and would gladly have their armies settle the whole matter on the battlefield. Then he let slip a telling piece of information—he had received private messengers from the optimates in the Roman Senate implying they would be only too happy to have the Germans slaughter Caesar and his army.
If Ariovistus had intended to unnerve Caesar with this disclosure, it didn’t work. He continued to insist that the Germans must abide by his terms if they desired to remain on this side of the Rhine. While this exchange was taking place, Caesar received word that the horsemen of Ariovistus were harassing his cavalry on the edge of the plain, throwing stones and the occasional javelin at them. Caesar, of course, knew that Ariovistus was trying to provoke him, but he withdrew himself and his men back to their camp rather than be accused of violating a flag of truce.
A couple of days later Ariovistus sent a message to Caesar suggesting they meet again or that he at least send some senior deputies to him that they might discuss matters further. Caesar smelled a trap but was reluctant to pass up any opportunity for negotiations, so he sent two of his most trusted men to the German camp. Once there they were immediately accused of spying and thrown into chains.
As much as Ariovistus was trying to annoy the Romans, he curiously did not seem anxious for a full-scale conflict as yet. This puzzled Caesar greatly as he could see no advantage for Ariovistus delaying, especially as the German leader had the advantage of numbers and was clearly itching for a fight. The Germans had already moved their camp two miles to the west of the Romans so that they could cut them off from any reinforcements or supplies from Gaul. Now the Romans were wedged between the Germans and the Rhine, a situation Caesar would have used immediately to his advantage if he had been Ariovistus. Caesar wasn’t afraid, however, and marched his troops out of camp five consecutive days to face the Germans and offer battle, but Ariovistus did nothing except to send forth a few of his cavalry. Caesar could not understand what the Germans were waiting for.
On the sixth day Caesar decided to leapfrog past the Germans and establish a second Roman camp to their west to ensure they could not block his grain supply from Gaul. To make sure his men were safe while building this camp, he marched them to the new site in triple-line formation. The front two lines stood guard against the annoying cavalry of Ariovistus while the third line pulled out their shovels and constructed an impregnable fort. He left two legions in this second camp only a few hundred yards from the Germans and moved the other four legions back to their original position. This was a clever move on Caesar’s part because even though he was far outnumbered by the Germans, he effectively had them pinned between his two camps.
The next day Ariovistus launched a fearsome raid on the new Roman base, but still refused to commit his troops to a major battle. Thanks to several Germans captured during the foray, however, Caesar was finally able to discover why Ariovistus was hesitating. The captives said that their priestesses had cast lots forbidding them to attack with the entire army until the new moon. The German warriors were in such awe of these diviners that they refused to disobey them for fear of losing the war. Caesar must have smiled when he heard this news, because the prisoners had just handed him a powerful weapon.
The next day Caesar left just enough men in each camp to guard against a surprise attack and then marched the rest of his army right up to the German camp. Caesar was going to compel the Germans to fight him no matter what their priestesses ordered. Thus when Ariovistus and his men came storming out of their camp, each was fearful that they were fighting against the will of their gods. In a culture where divination was a deadly serious business, this hesitation gave Caesar a compelling psychological advantage.
Whatever religious scruples they may have had, the Germans fought with great bravery. They rushed against the Romans so fast that the legions had no time to launch their javelins. These were cast aside and swords were quickly drawn, commencing a fierce struggle among thousands of men at close quarters. The Germans formed closely packed groups protected by their shields and pushed the Romans back, until a few legionaries actually leapt on top of the Germans and began tearing their shields away. The bloody conflict raged back and forth with the living stepping over the bodies of the dead. Finally, a young officer named Publius Crassus, son of Caesar’s triumvirate partner, rallied the troops on the far side of the line and began to force the Germans back. At this crucial moment, the Romans knew they would win.
The Germans broke and ran toward the Rhine, though precious few ever made it across the river. Some, like Ariovistus, managed to escape by boat, but most were slain at the riverbank by the pursuing Roman cavalry or drowned in a futile attempt to swim to the other side. The Romans were so caught up in victory that they spared almost no one, including women and children. Ariovistus abandoned two of his wives and one of his daughters to be slain by the Romans. Caesar himself was at the fore of the cavalry pursuit when by chance he came across one of his deputies who had been treacherously seized by the Germans days before. The young man was being dragged in chains by his captors as the Romans cut them down. Caesar says he was as thrilled to find his friend safe as he was to win the battle. The weary but elated officer told Caesar how the Germans had planned to burn him alive, but the lots they cast three times kept telling the priestesses to wait.
With the battle won, news quickly spread to the German tribes on the east side of the Rhine that Ariovistus was defeated. Since many of the Germans hated the upstart warlord, they were only too happy to slay any of his men they could find hiding in their territory. Thus in a few months’ time, in the summer of 58 B.C., Caesar had triumphed in two great wars against both Gauls and Germans, the two most feared enemies of Rome. It was a remarkable achievement in Roman military history, but it was only the beginning of Caesar’s plans. The Gaulish allies who had urged Caesar to save them from the Helvetii and Ariovistus were immensely grateful and were now ready to escort him back to the Province with full honors. Instead, Caesar made a winter camp for his troops among the Sequani, far to the north of Roman territory, and left Labienus in command. It now dawned on the Gauls what was happening. This Roman camp deep inside their lands served no military purpose except as a forward base for Caesar to use the next spring in further campaigns. The Romans were in Gaul to stay.