Legatus Legionis: Book Two in the Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy

by Miller, Ian

  A small river lazily flowed across the scene, until it reached a broad estuary that, because of the lower tides, was little better than a mudflat on which seagulls were walking. The riverbanks were marshy, but on either side much of the land had been cleared, and there were small farms scattered across the cleared land, each with their wooden thatched hut, their little smoky fire, and the animals scattered around. As the land rose in the distance, there was more forest, with scattered clearings, and, judging by the occasional smoke, the odd forester's hut. Immediately before them, on the opposite side of the river, was a walled town, and judging by the number of armed men and horses, the Celts had decided to make a stand there.

  The fortifications were on a small hill; the approach from upstream and to the west was reasonably flat, and that approach was protected by a large ditch dug just outside the walls. On the riverside, and downstream, a moderately steep slope fell away from the walls to the river flat below, where the Celts had also built a large ditch.

  A casual glance at the Celts showed that they had yet to realize the seriousness of their situation. They were doing very little; clearly they believed that the river would be a major obstacle to the Romans. They had much to learn about Rome. Gaius glanced to his right, and saw the leaders of the fourteenth viewing exactly the same scene. Mirror signals confirmed the nature of the plan Plautius wished to follow. Gaius sent a confirmatory signal, then he marched his legion towards the riverbank, in full view of the Celts. Since it was late afternoon, the Romans were beginning to establish a camp. The Celts clearly thought they were safe, as no patrols were set.

  A messenger approached Gaius. This town was regarded by Plautius as important. Apparently Caratacus had heard of the intention to set up Cogidumnus as a client king, and he had sent a very sizable war party down to inflict damage and persuade that tribe not to do so. However, he had been late, and the Augusta had caught them and there had been a major battle. The Celtic war party had fled, and most of its soldiers were now in this fortified town.

  The next morning the soldiers of the fourteenth were busy as only Roman soldiers could be busy. Trees were chopped down, and what were clearly pontoons and bridge sections were constructed and stood on the bank. The job of the fourteenth was to make it look as if the basic plan was to launch a frontal attack across the river. The twentieth was doing something similar upstream, also in view of the Celts, however Gaius also sent three cohorts under the command of Falco upstream, where they would cross the river out of sight of the Celts. Thus while on the eastern side of the river everything seemed chaotic, the following day was designated for the attack. Gaius also called Lupus to his tent, and told him that he would have the honour of leading the river crossing. He was pleased to see that Lupus, while recognizing the seriousness of the orders and the risks, was also pleased that he had been chosen, and he promised that his cohorts would secure a position on the other side of the river.

  Before first light, Plautius despatched his Batavians. These soldiers were able to swim rivers fully armed, and when they emerged on the other side, their arrival was unseen by the Britons. They crept to the rear of the enemy camp, and in the early light of predawn they set about disabling or stealing the horses. Without horses, the Celtic chariots were useless. Not that this land was ideal for chariot deployment.

  Across the river, Gaius smiled when he heard the cries from the furious Celts. A number of them immediately began chasing horses, Batavians, anything. That lack of discipline would always tell against them. Of course they could chase the Batavians, and at first sight this seemed a cost-free option of exacting some cost from the Romans. It was not.

  The previous night a cohort under the command of Gaius Hosidius Geta had made a night crossing near the river mouth. Now was the time to emerge. Plautius had ordered it to provide a further distraction to allow the Batavians to get further away, but Geta did more, by launching his small force at the rear of the pursuers. Suddenly the chasers found themselves isolated, dispersed, and caught in a pincer between the two small forces. The angry Celts flung themselves furiously on the Romans, but after the first blows they found themselves being driven relentlessly backwards by the shield wall. The angry Celtic battle cries gradually gave way to Celtic swearing, and cries of Celtic pain as the hob-nailed Roman boots were driven brutally into the ribs of Celtic wounded lying on the ground.

  A further detachment of Celts emerged from the main fort, and rushed to help. Geta ordered the horn blast, and apart from the line immediately fighting Celts, his whole cohort reversed, and drove into the new attackers. Someone in the Celtic camp must have decided that this fighting in the open was fruitless, and a Celtic retreat was ordered.

  The Celts turned and, with varying degrees of speed, retreated. Geta's men pursued as fast as they could, back-stabbing the slow, until they reached the first of the fortified gates, which were slammed shut just before the last of the Celts could regain safety. As the sounds of reinforcing beams could be heard being placed into position to hold the gates, the few remaining Celts had to face the charging Romans.

  Without thinking, the front line of the Romans charged the Celts, only to be struck by a barrage of huge rocks from above. Quickly the order was given to lock shields above, but now the small Celtic party surprised by attacking, swinging their large heavy swords at the Roman legs. Blow after blow landed, and Romans began fall to the ground, legs bleeding profusely.

  Then suddenly another band of Celts emerged from another gate, and launched themselves furiously on the Romans. Even Geta himself had to take a sword and shield and personally join the line. He signalled the retreat, and gradually the cohort pulled back from the wall. As they got further away, those behind the wall could only help their comrades with arrows. Still the blows were traded, and since the Romans could not force the Celts with their shields for fear of the arrows, the Roman losses were still significant.

  Then the Celtic commander ordered the retreat. The Romans did not attempt to follow. As Gaius was to remark later, this was a significant lost opportunity for the Celts; if they did not feel confident of defeating one cohort that was clearly in trouble, there was not much point in attempting to fight two legions.

  It was now time for the twentieth to make a more public and direct crossing. Gaius sat on his horse on a rise as he watched Lupus marshal his troops onto the rafts that had been made the previous evening, and cross in full view. The Celts saw the rafts and began hurling insults. As an attack, this seemed destined to fail, and the Celts became more derisive by the minute, particularly as the rafts apparently could not even keep on the proper course, but instead seemed to be drifting downstream of the main camp. Then, just as the Celts began to hurl their first spears, a horn signal could be heard.

  From the rear of the Celt's camp, fearful yells could be heard and the Celts turned to see the first advance of Falco's men. Meanwhile, Geta's men had reformed, and were marching to cut off attempts at fleeing from the fortifications. Now, the Celts found that instead of defending behind a river the opposition had to cross, they were encircled by the Romans. In the general confusion, the Celts seemed not to notice that the rafts had now purposefully driven into some marshes.

  At first Gaius had a sinking feeling that he had misjudged, for the men began jumping off rafts. He felt so helpless, being on the wrong side of the river. He should be there, where he could . . . But no, he realized that he had to trust the Centurions and Lupus. He was not essential everywhere, and he was too valuable to risk being killed on a failed landing. Not that it would fail, but there had to be the possibility of failure. All he could do was watch, as the soldiers with their heavy armour quickly began floundering in the deep mud, and as they tripped over reeds it became almost impossible to maintain their shields in locked formation. It was then that he saw Lupus quickly grab a long pole and push for all he was worth; his raft continued, and when two legionnaires saw what he was doing they grabbed the pole from him. With muscles straining they pushed, driving the raf
t closer to the ground, other soldiers using their shields to form a protective wall.

  But eventually the raft could go no further. An Optio more experienced with marshes leaped forward, shield ahead, and advanced with the slow stride that made it easier to stay on his feet. The men followed, several falling flat on their faces as they tried to catch up. The Optio turned and called for the men to do what he was doing, then he fell back, to allow the shields to advance and for the protective wall to form. But as men fell into muddy holes, the long shield became a hindrance, and while they were struggling, Britons would appear from nowhere, throw spears, then disappear equally quickly.

  But for all the cursing and all the swearing, and despite the moans of the wounded, the wall of shields made dry ground, to be greeted by a charge of Britons carrying huge lances. The attack faltered as wave after wave of Celts beat down on the wall of shields. All Gaius could do was to hold his breath and watch.

  "Hold firm!" Lupus called from behind. He rounded up some of the stragglers who had fallen in the mud and sent them forward to those parts of the line most in need of reinforcement. Soldiers were dying, and many in the line were bleeding, but it was imperative that they held. If this line was defeated, the attack could fail.

  Then the rafts brought a second load of men. These, not directly under fire themselves, found disembarking easier and were brought up to form a second line. Still the battle continued ahead. As the first line began to falter, Lupus ordered the horn.

  It was here that Roman drill prevailed. The front line of Romans stepped back, and as if by magic they were immediately replaced by a fresh line that drove forward relentlessly. The front line of the Celts, tired from the continuous fighting, could not quite deal with fresh men, and they began to fall under the relentless stabbing from behind the slowly advancing wall of shields. The line advanced about four yards before the Celts sorted themselves out and fresh men entered the fray. Once again the Roman line was held, and a fierce exchange was underway, neither side giving ground, while bodies continued to pile up.

  The third load of soldiers arrived, and these immediately took their place at the front of the lines. The fighting was up-hill, which was tiring, but the fresh legs helped. The Celts, needing more room to swing their longer weapons, had to give ground, but when they did so the Romans closed the gap. Slowly but remorselessly, the Romans worked their way forward, as yet further loads of soldiers disembarked. Meanwhile the Centurions had arranged for the wounded to be treated and they were now reorganizing those who had been the first to land into fighting units. As these rejoined the battle, and as even more of the Legion landed, the crossing could not now be repelled by the number of Celts that were outside the fortifications. Now would not be a good time to send reinforcements. If they had more men available, they should have been used while the Romans were more vulnerable. The advance now began to gather momentum, and Celts at the rear, fearing a collapse, began to peel off and make their way inside the fortifications.

  The Roman advance had at last secured a landing position. Now, Gaius decided, it was time for him to cross. He joined some troops on the next raft, and noticed that the soldiers were somewhat more enthusiastic with their use of their poles. They were not going to let their commander see them lacking in enthusiasm for getting to the other side. As they reached the far bank, instead of jumping off and wading, they rammed the raft against a more solid weed bank. Gaius was about to jump off, but the most recently promoted Optio ordered the soldiers to help their commander off. Gaius was a little embarrassed to be carried over the marsh, but he thanked the soldiers and gave an acknowledging smile to the Optio, then, with shield at the ready to avoid arrows, he made his way to congratulate Lupus on having done a good job, following which he took formal command.

  The Roman advance continued remorselessly until they reached a defensive ditch. Gaius immediately called a halt to the advance, the ditch now becoming a boundary between the two sides. Fortifications were set up, and Gaius ordered that the remaining fighting units of the legion be brought over as quickly as possible, and that wooden "bridges" be made for the ditches.

  On the far side of the encampment, Geta occupied the obvious line of retreat, and Falco's men had marched forwards to a corresponding ditch on the opposite side of the camp. As Gaius noted to Timothy later, the Britons made a great mistake when they seemed content to defend their camp. Their best option would have been to launch a furious counterattack on the twentieth. With the legion split, and those on the west bank tired and beginning to build fortifications everything should have been thrown against it. If they could not defeat half a legion stuck in the mud and without room to manoeuvre, they might as well surrender.

  But they did not. Seemingly they could not see that their defensive strategy could only prevail by buying them their opportunity to attack on their terms, and possibly the only real opportunity to make a significant impact on the Roman forces evaporated with the sun on the following morning.

  Then, when lines were formed and the Britons would not attack, Gaius ordered the bridges brought to the ditch where they were stood on their ends, then pushed forward. At the same moment, those on the other side of the camp stormed across the ditches before them. Before any of the Britons could even form a plan, Romans poured across the ditches on their improvised bridges, and began wheeling ramps up to the walls.

  The Britons were struck by indecision. The attack from the rear was the most dangerous, but the men of the twentieth on the river side would be easier to defeat, as they were forced to climb this rather steep hill. However, as these men of the twentieth formed their wedges to advance from the bridges, the Celts lost any chance to take the initiative, and they were forced to defend their walls. Again the heavy hand to hand fighting resumed, but this time the Romans advanced more quickly.

  Then, from the remaining side, Geta's men, supported by the Batavians, had formed a flying wedge and had charged directly at that part of the camp holding the stores. He took this quickly, and immediately lit a fire, the smoke from which rolled towards the lines of Britons.

  With their camp on fire, despair struck the Britons, and in a desperate move, they charged out between Geta's and Falco's men, and fled to the northwest. The Romans pursued, and Roman archers had great success firing into the unprotected backs, but those that survived the initial volleys were soon out of range, and the much more heavily armoured infantrymen could not easily keep up. The Britons then ran into yet another marsh, and again the Romans pursued unsuccessfully, partly because the cavalry was still on the wrong side of the river. The Britons knew the tracks, and seemed able to run on what firmer ground there was, while the Romans seemed destined to blunder into holes of mud. When they did, Celts would reappear from the reeds, and many Romans fell to spears while floundering waste-high in mud.

  Guessing what was happening, Gaius ordered an immediate horn signal for the soldiers to return and consolidate.

  The victory was complete, as far as it went. The land was now under Roman control up to the next river, the Thames. However, it appeared that the enemy, apparently under the command of Caratacus himself, had seen the inevitability of defeat. Since his force was largely the badly mauled remains of the raiding party that had been too small to defeat Vespasian's one legion previously, when he saw two legions he had sent most of his troops away the night previous to the battle. Those that had remained were to buy as much time as they could, then to flee into the marshes.

  Gaius had to acknowledge that as an enemy Caratacus appeared to know what he was doing. His problem was, and would always be, he did not have sufficient strength to destroy the legions. He could not win while the enemy remained on the field, and this time the Roman army was not there for the summer, and it was not in the business of collecting shells. This time the Roman army intended to add Britain, or at least parts of it, to the empire.

  Caratacus had three options; he could surrender, he could flee to whatever part of Britain Rome did not occupy, or he could
fight Rome. If he chose to surrender, his future would be that of a slave. Gaius could understand his not wishing that. If he fled, his fellow Celts were as likely as not to sell him to the Romans, so that was not much of an option. If he fought, either he had to defeat four legions of professional soldiers or he had to make the Roman occupation so costly that Rome would leave. He simply did not have the resources to defeat Rome, and unfortunately for Caratacus, it was his lands that were the more economically well developed, and it was his lands that Rome had to conquer first, simply because they were the closest.

  For Caratacus, defeat was inevitable. The only issue was what form it would take, and how many men would die before he admitted it.

  * * *

  For once, Gaius had to admit, Plautius did not waste time. The legions immediately drove forward towards the River Thames. The Britons apparently considered this to be a particularly effective natural obstacle, but Plautius immediately commandeered every boat he could, then the armies marched upstream until the river was sufficiently narrow.

  Again the Batavians swam across the river and fought to secure a small landing area. A bridge was made by tying boats together, and the Roman troops marched over, the twentieth leading the way. Gaius felt rather pleased with himself, for now he had his first real opportunity to test his split cohort approach, and the enemy was insufficiently well organized to take advantage of any mistakes.

  In the event, nothing was proved. The Britons elected not to defend the multiple village attacks, but rather to fall back to camp north of what would later be Londinium. As Gaius remarked later, that was another one of the rare opportunities lost for the Celts to shine. A river crossing was always dangerous because there was always a period when there were insufficient troops across to guarantee victory against a determined attack, but too many across to be able to afford the losses. The Celts had the home advantage; they knew the land and could count on a good supply of information on what the Romans were up to. If they refused to make some sort of peace treaty, their best chance was to take full toll of the inevitable times when Roman forces were split and at natural disadvantage. As it was, the two legions camped and consolidated their position across the river a little upstream from the Celts, who presented little opposition.