12
CAESAR had other plans for the “peaceful” withdrawal of the Helvetii. But, before considering this first of his Gallic campaigns, it is important to take a look at the men, the units and the arms with which Rome had built up her empire and with which Caesar was about to expand it. Naturally, in view of his Roman audience, Caesar does not bother to elaborate upon the equipment of his troops, but specialists in many countries have since made studies of Roman arms and armor, much helped by the activities of archaeologists. Enough is now known to throw some light upon almost all the basic activities of the legions.
The army of Rome had started out originally as a purely citizen army called out from their homes and farms whenever the republic was threatened and, as soon as the emergency was over, discharged. As for the legionary’s arms and armor, they were whatever he himself could provide. All men between seventeen and forty-six were considered available as soldiers of the state and were given a minimal payment to cover their time spent in the national service. It can readily be seen that such as system could work when these were no more than citizen-soldiers and peasant-farmers defending their small republic, but it began to break down the moment that Rome acquired an empire and overseas entanglements. The man who changed the old military system was Caesar’s uncle, the great Marius, who realized during a lengthy war in North Africa—where there was naturally a great shortage of recruits—that the whole system must be radically altered to meet the new circumstances.
Previously, a property-qualification as well as Roman citizenship had been required of a legionary, but Marius now discarded the former and threw the army open to every Roman citizen. This meant that the urban poor, who were steadily increasing in numbers, flocked to the legions. They looked to their general to provide for them, and consequently a successful general, who could furnish plenty of opportunities for plunder, was always sure of a following. It was plunder, not pay, that rewarded these soldiers. Caesar changed this somewhat by giving his soldiers adequate pay, but this remained the basic ration, as it were, and the looting of a great town and the plundering of foreign land and settlements was what the soldier hoped for. At the same time, being now a professional, he was landless and, when it came to his retirement, looked to his general to provide him with a big enough plot for him to settle and engage those other talents inherited from his peasant forebears.
Another great change that Marius made was to give each soldier an identification with his own particular legion. Whereas previously the legions had been disbanded at the end of every campaign—so that continuity was lost—the legions were now given numbers and a distinctive standard, the eagle. These were to Roman troops what the Colours became to British infantry in later centuries. The loss of an eagle was a disgrace to a legion which would one day have to be redeemed by blood. Another of Marius’ major changes was to cut down the size of the baggage trains, which had previously both held up the pace of the army and provided a desirable object for plunder. Marius saw to it that these were both better organized and reduced, thus increasing mobility. At the same time he had to compensate for this loss of immediate provisions by turning each soldier into his own food carrier. So, in addition to his sword, his spear, his entrenching tool, stakes for palisades and so on, the Roman soldier now also carried his own essential supplies. Jokingly, they referred to themselves as “Marius’ mules.”
The eagle was the standard of the whole legion and, by Caesar’s time, it was made of silver and gold. When the legion marched, it was carried by the senior centurion and guarded by the first cohort of the troops: otherwise it never left camp. There were also special standards for each cohort (a gold hand, for instance, or a series of silver discs) and special banners or flags which bore the name of the legion. All these trappings of war had the same intention—of inspiring regimental spirit, a dedication to one’s own legion, and rivalry with others. Eagles, standards and flags were attached to long poles, ending in an iron-shod point so that they could be stuck in the earth. The poles were fitted with hand-grips so that, when planted in muddy or awkward ground, the bearer could quickly hoist them free whenever the order came to move.
By the time of Caesar the arms of the legionary had been streamlined from an earlier complexity into two only—the sword and the spear. Swords were basically of a type that the Roman had first encountered in Spain. They had a double-cutting edge and a stabbing-point, were sheathed in a metal-bound leather scabbard, and hung on the legionary’s right hand side. The blade-length of a standard sword was 50-56 cm. The spears came in two main types; both were throwing spears, known as a pilum, and one was a light-weight and the other a heavy-weight. Both were constructed on the same principle: a long metal shaft which ended in a spear point was attached to a wooden shaft. It was thus quite unlike the simple spears of antiquity and, when sunk deep into a man or horse, instead of simply standing proud as a wooden spear would have done, the pilum with its soft iron neck would bend at the point where it joined the wooden stick. A horse thus struck would very likely be brought to the ground, and a man transfixed would be unable to run away but held on the spot by the curve that the pilum had now become.
The Caesarian legionary was protected by a mail shirt that hung about halfway down his thighs, under which he wore a leather jerkin, and on his head what is called a Montefortino helmet (so-called after the cemetery where an example was found). This type of helmet had protective cheek pieces and was pear-shaped, rising to a lead-filled topknot which held a horsehair crest. A rim ran around the bottom of the helmet, swept out farther at the back to protect the neck against glancing blows. The shield was oval-shaped and, to judge from one example found in Egypt, was made from laminated strips of wood—in this case birch which had then been covered with lamb’s wool felt. Shields were often leather covered, and were metal-rimmed and carried a metal boss in the center. Greaves were rarely worn by the ordinary legionary, and his equipment ended in his heavy leather sandals, leather-laced over the foot and up round the ankles, the soles studded with iron nails.
The famed centurion was undoubtedly the backbone of the Roman army. Senior officers might come and go, but centurions were the only lifetime officers. In Caesar’s time they were usually men who had started in the ranks (although in later days so highly valued had the rank become that even monied men sought to buy a centurionate). As regulars they would serve twenty-five years or even more, usually with the same legion. As his name suggests, the commander of a century, the centurion was expected to be a “hard case,” for on him largely rested the discipline of the legions. His badge of office was the vine cane—often laid across the soldier’s back—and he was distinguished from the legionary by wearing the crest on his helmet transversely and his sword on the left, while on his right he had a dagger. They were expected to be Spartans, to stand and fight and die. There were fifty-nine centurions to a legion.
Each legion was commanded by six tribunes, usually young men aspiring to become senators, or others who had tried the military life, developed a taste for it, and would stay there for years. Senior to them were the prefects, who might become aides to generals or be put in command of cavalry, or even become a prefect of the fleet—for the Romans made no real distinction between military service ashore or afloat. Above them in the chain of command came the legate (under Caesar, of a legion), usually a senator, and therefore one who must at some time previously have been a magistrate, or quaestor. These were the men who, under great captains like Caesar or Pompey, formed an experienced group of commanders, a general staff as it were.
The whole legion, if at its full strength—which was rare enough—consisted of 6,000 men divided into ten cohorts. Further subdivisions within the cohort were each commanded by a centurion, and each with its individual standard bearer and hornblower (the group’s signalman). In the old legions of pre-Marian days each had also had attached to it its own cavalry, light infantry or skirmishers, engineers and artillerymen. In the new army these departments had become quite separate units on their own. If the siege of a town was to be undertaken, then the corps of engineers and artillery had to be brought up, similarly whenever cavalry was needed. The latter largely came from Spain, although Caesar was to conscript useful cavalry from Gaul and Germany at various times in his campaigns. The new legion, was, therefore, not a self-contained structure as it had been in the past, but what it had lost in one sense it had gained in another. Its flexibility as a unit of disciplined, highly-trained professionals made it a formidable instrument of war in the hands of a man of genius. The legionary’s training was rigorous: weapons drill, long runs in full armor, practice fighting with swords which had a button on the point, javelin-throwing and, throughout their training, constant attention to the condition of arms and armor, with on-the-spot checks by eagle-eyed centurions. All this attention to detail, so familiar to armies of later centuries (if of any quality), was what gave the Roman legionary his permanent edge over the brave barbarian.
For there can be no doubt about the bravery and the fighting qualities of the warriors of Gallic and Germanic stock with whom the legionaries were soon to come in conflict. Long-moustached, shaggy-haired, despising the protective armor of their enemies, the peoples of the north inhabited a Homeric world. Boastful, deep-drinking, prone to fits of berserker rage, wearing great torques and massive armbands of gold, whether Gauls or Germans, all had one thing in common—they lived for war. Unlike the Romans and the Greeks, they went trousered through the world—such clothing being more suitable for their climate, but setting them apart as “barbarians” in the eyes of Mediterranean peoples. The Greek historian Diodorus wrote of them: “They enlarge the bronze helmets that they wear with horns, to give an appearance of great size. They carry shields as long as their bodies, embossed with the head of some beast. They speak in riddles, hinting darkly at their meaning, while always extolling themselves. Terrible in aspect, they appear very threatening; yet they have sharp wits and are often clever in learning.” Since, under the influence of their Druidic religion, they were confident of an afterlife, they had no fear of death, and the ambition of the warrior was to die in battle.