by R. W. Peake
~ ~ ~ ~
I was almost immediately overwhelmed in my new role of Primus Pilus of a full Legion, causing me to begin fretting about the appearance of Diocles, finally recognizing how much I had come to rely on him. During the interval, I appropriated slaves with experience in the daily running of the Legion from the other Centurions. Zeno had died of an illness while the Legion was camped outside Rome, or I would have used him, despite his light-fingered ways. Still, it was not the same as having Diocles with me, so I am afraid that my temper was very much on the raw with not just the slaves, but anyone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The larger situation did not help my mood either. Weather was atrocious, seemingly unending days of unfavorable winds accompanied by fits of rain that made the camp a morass of mud that clung to everything. Despite Caesar’s impatience, this weather was still a blessing because it allowed time for all the forces he had sent for to arrive, since some were coming from as far away as Egypt, the 28th in particular. When I heard this news, while I was happy at the thought of seeing Cartufenus again, I was not particularly thrilled with the idea of the 28th being part of the invasion, the memory of their performance in Alexandria still fresh in my mind. The 25th, 26th, and 29th were coming as well, along with the rest of the Spanish Legions, though so far only the 10th had arrived. Other issues facing Caesar were shipping, along with supply, neither situations being sufficient for his plans or ambitions, but that never stopped Caesar and finally, he could take it no longer. The day after Saturnalia, I was ordered to load four Cohorts of the Legion, all that fit on the available shipping, along with Caesar, the cavalry and some auxiliaries, about 3,000 men total. As he had at Brundisium, Caesar ordered all unnecessary baggage to be left behind, along with body slaves, which did not affect me in any way since Diocles had not arrived. We put out to sea, where almost immediately, the choppy conditions we had experienced in the harbor and immediately surrounding waters turned to heaving seas, sending a number of men to the side. I had finally gotten to the point where my stomach was, if not accustomed to sea voyages, at least inured to the point where it took a full-blown storm before it finally rebelled. That is not to say that I was comfortable; I certainly was not, but I was happy that the voyage was fairly short, or at least so I thought. The distance to cover was a little more than a hundred miles by sea, yet it took five full days before we dropped anchor at Hadrumentum, after hugging the coast, only stopping briefly at a number of points while Caesar decided the best place to land.
At Hadrumentum, the gates were closed to us, the garrison commander, one Gaius Considius, having close to two Legions’ worth of men manning the walls and gates, so we made camp in sight of the walls of the city, while Caesar went surveying the city defenses. Also, as we were making camp, scouts were sent out into the countryside, and they came back to report that a second force composed of mostly cavalry approached from the direction of Clunea. This was one of the points we had stopped for Caesar to scout and had rejected because it was too heavily defended, so they had obviously been alerted, understanding who we were and what we were about. One of the Tribunes with us, Lucius Plancus, made a suggestion to Caesar that he try to talk Considius over to our side, since Plancus knew him from before the civil war, to which Caesar agreed. Caesar wrote a letter for Plancus to take to Considius under a flag of truce and, with letter in hand, Plancus approached the city walls. He was taken into the presence of Considius, who apparently did not share the same warm memories of their friendship that Plancus had, because as an answer not only did he not bother to open the letter with Caesar’s seal but executed Plancus on the spot. This was not made known to us immediately; instead, we spent that night and the better part of the next day waiting for some sort of answer from Considius, while there was much wagering on the fate of Plancus ranging from defection to the Pompeians to losing his head. The other reason Caesar chose to wait was to allow the rest of the army to join us, but there was no sign of the fleet that had supposedly been just one or two days away from Sicily when we left. However, this was not altogether surprising given the weather we experienced ourselves. It was the last day of the year of the Consulship of Calenus and Vatinius, except that was under the old calendar before Caesar reformed it. In other words, it was still October according to the new calendar, but on the first day of the “old” new year, Caesar decided that he could not afford to spend the time investing Hadrumentum now that he had learned of the fate of Plancus, particularly with the large force of cavalry from Clunea less than a day away. The numbers that the scouts had reported of the cavalry force was in excess of 3,000, compared to our 150 mounted troops, with the assumption being that they were the Gauls of Labienus’ force that escaped after Pharsalus. Breaking camp, Caesar decided to leave us as a rearguard then set off with only the cavalry, the auxiliaries and the bulk of his staff. Heading in the opposite direction from which the enemy cavalry was coming, Caesar made for the city of Ruspina. They were barely out of sight when the mounted scouts assigned to us reported the cloud of dust that marked the Pompeian cavalry, and who had obviously been warned of our presence because a couple of thirds of a watch later when they came close to our marching formation, they gave us a wide berth. However, they did pass closely enough for us to see that they were not Gauls, their darker skin and lighter armor making that clearly apparent.
“Numidians,” Scribonius said, causing me to look at him in surprise as we marched together.
“And how do you know that? When did you ever see a Numidian?”
Suddenly he looked wary, glancing quickly around to make sure that nobody else was in earshot before he answered. “I saw some when I was a child in Rome. They were associated with King Jugurtha in some way, but I don’t remember how. They looked and rode their horses the same way as those men do.”
Scribonius had become my closest friend, yet this moment reminded me how little I really knew about him. In contrast, between Vibius and me, Scribonius had learned probably more about our childhood and background than he ever wanted to know. Yet, when that moment came around the fire when men talked of home, Scribonius always remained silent, something we had just come to accept, never questioning him about it. I did not press then, since it was not the time or place, indeed, if there was one to begin with. Instead, we watched the cavalry streaming past us, shaking their arms at us while calling out threats in yet one more language we did not understand. Of course, our men replied in turn, marching along while shouting at the enemy what we would do to them if given the chance. I never really understood the point in all of this nonsense, but it was something that seemed to be important to the men even now after doing it for 15 years without influencing one battle. The enemy soon receded out of our sight in pursuit of Caesar and our cavalry, so now all we could do was wait, which is the hardest part of any campaign. Even worse than boredom is when things are happening, but you do not know the outcome of events, having to wait to hear the news that determines whether or not there is cause to celebrate or reason to panic. The numbers of enemy cavalry were certainly daunting, when compared to our own numbers, except at that point we did not know the quality of the Numidians, making it anyone’s guess as to what would happen.
While the major part of the fleet that brought us to Africa had been sent back to Sicily to load the hopefully newly arrived reinforcements to bring to us, Caesar’s flagship, a quinquereme, along with a small number of other ships were sticking close to shore, following Caesar’s progress. If matters became desperate, I was not too worried about Caesar, knowing that he would retreat to the safety of the flagship, the cavalry buying the necessary time with their lives for his escape. As it turned out, this would not be necessary. When the enemy cavalry approached Caesar and our own forces, our paltry band of horsemen turned about, charging into the Numidians and cutting a fair number of them down before the rest scattered to the four winds. Not only did this save Caesar from the embarrassment of having to run for the fleet, it also gave him and
the rest of the army a good idea of the measure of the Numidians, at least their cavalry, which was not much. Camp was made that night at Ruspina, which unlike Hadrumentum, had opened their gates to us. Meanwhile, the only sighting of the enemy was their scouts and the Numidians who skulked a short distance away meaning we had no trouble that night, before marching further east the few miles to Leptis the next day, camping outside the town.
Despite arriving early because of the short distance between Ruspina and Leptis, we still spent the best part of the day building the camp, since we had to make it big enough to accommodate the rest of the army, which still had not shown up. By the end of the day, the men were exhausted, yet we still did not have the camp completed because of the size. This meant that we had to mount full Cohort guard through the night to protect the unfinished sides of the camp, something that did not please Caesar in the slightest, though he had to accept it. Fortunately, the fleet carrying the rest of the army showed up early the next day. By midday, the first of the rest of the army from Sicily began jumping over the sides of the transports to wade ashore, cheering my men greatly. We continued working, while I kept an eye out for the rest of our Legion, but as the day passed, I did not see them. Finally, I went to the Praetorium to find Apollonius, asking him if he knew where the rest of the 10th was.
“Sallustius said that he couldn’t fit everyone into the available shipping and decided to send over the rest of what just arrived.”
I did not like this, but there was nothing to be done about it. The Legions that landed were the 25th, 26th, 28th, 29th, and all but two Cohorts of the 5th, which had been in Greece all this time, minus some Cohorts from each of the Legions whose ships had still not landed. I was at least thankful that the men of the arriving Legions were put immediately to work, so that the camp was completed by the end of the day, despite the grumbling of my men. I was also happy to see Cartufenus again, and we spent the evening in my tent catching up.
“It must be good to be back with the 10th.” Cartufenus observed me closely as he said this.
Of course, by this time, the news of all that had transpired on the Campus Martius was common knowledge throughout the army, and I thought I could detect a hint of smugness in his tone, for which I guess I cannot fully blame him. I had made my feelings about the 28th’s actions in Alexandria fairly clear, and now here was the vaunted 10th doing the same thing, at least as far as Cartufenus was concerned. I thought about pointing out that the 10th had not mutinied while under siege, and there was no real comparison between the length and quality of our service, then decided against it, since he had not really voiced any of the things I thought were running through his head.
Instead, I answered the question he had verbalized. “Yes and no,” I admitted.
Cartufenus knew about what had happened between Vibius and me at Pharsalus, having blurted the story out during a wine-filled evening back in Alexandria, so I felt comfortable confiding in him. “It’s still early. I’ve only been Primus Pilus for a few weeks and I haven’t had much time with the men. I have my ideas about who I have to keep my eye on as far as Centurions and Optios, but only time will tell if I’m right.”
“What will you do if they mutiny again?”
“Whatever I have to,” I replied.
He raised his cup. “Hopefully, it will never come to that.”
~ ~ ~ ~
As at Ruspina, the gates of Leptis were thrown open to us, and in order to prevent any problems with the men, Caesar ordered a Century to guard each town gate with orders that no man from the army be allowed in, to ensure there was no theft. Caesar was determined to win the populace over to him and these were the kinds of measures he was taking to win their trust. Leptis was to be our supply base, so we built the camp right up to the water’s edge to allow for easier unloading. At Leptis, I learned that the missing ships were supposedly heading by mistake for Utica, which was in Pompeian hands, held by none other than Cato, and Caesar was worried that the men and supplies aboard would fall into enemy hands. Because of the danger, he decided that he would go himself in search of the missing vessels and men, along with some of us. I was ordered to load up my Cohorts, along with four Cohorts of the 25th, which we did that night, enduring a miserable night on the water, set to depart before dawn. Our fleet rowed out of the small harbor of Leptis shortly before daybreak, but luckily, we were not a third of a watch gone past sunrise when a lookout shouted down from the mast where he was perched that he had spied a sail, quickly followed by another, then others. At first, we thought it might be the enemy, so there was much commotion as the crew of the ship I was on hurried about making ready to fight. Soon enough, it became apparent that they belonged to us, since each vessel flew Caesar’s red standard. Consequently, we turned back, going back to Ruspina instead of Leptis to debark, along with the missing Cohorts of the other Legions, but precious little in the way of supplies. This concerned Caesar most of all, knowing that he could not have a hungry army for what lay ahead. To that end, he dispatched Sallustius to the island of Cercina, where there was supposedly a large supply of grain, and a messenger was sent to Sardinia for the same purpose. Caesar ordered a Cohort from each Legion, including from the 10th, to stay at Leptis under one of the Saserna brothers, though I could never tell them apart, to guard what would be our supply base. I sent Glaxus and his Cohort, confident that he was sufficiently intelligent and resourceful enough to handle an independent command, a judgment that he more than validated during that duty. The rest of the army came to Ruspina from Leptis, and although it was a short distance, there was plenty of grumbling about marching back and forth. Once the disposition of our forces was settled, Caesar gave orders that we were to go about the countryside to procure grain and other foodstuffs so that there would be something to put in our supply base at Leptis. We would leave the next morning to go a few miles south where there were reports of fields of ripened grain supposedly just waiting to be harvested by us.
~ ~ ~ ~
Starting out in the morning, we marched with a force of 3 °Cohorts, five from each Legion, with one extra to make up the difference because there were only four Cohorts of the 10th, along with 400 cavalry out of the 3,000 that had arrived, along with 150 archers. Each Legion was represented so they could gather grain for their respective units, every man carrying their wicker basket and sickle, along with their armor and weapons, of course. We headed southwest to where the first of the fields we would harvest were supposedly located, marching in column, with the usual outriders and cavalry screen. Little more than a third of a watch on the march had passed when someone called out, drawing our attention to one of the horsemen who had been out on the flanks but was now galloping back to the command group where Caesar was located. Bare moments later, the bucina was sounding the call that enemy was sighted, prompting me to give the order to don helmets, forcing the men to drop their baskets. As we were making ourselves ready, several men shouted that they had spotted the enemy themselves, and I looked to where they were pointing, observing a large cloud of dust. Experience told me that it was either a very large force of infantry, or a smaller cavalry unit, and after observing how quickly it was moving, I knew that it was cavalry. My first reaction was not to be worried, thinking that if it were the Numidians that we had seen days before, we would have no problem repulsing them. That relief was short-lived, as the more sharp-eyed among our number immediately let the rest of us know that it was not Numidians, but Gallic cavalry that was fast approaching. Directly after that news, the cornu sounded the call to shake out into single line, open formation, facing the oncoming cavalry. In answer to our move, the enemy likewise deployed into a line, allowing us to determine that the force opposing us was a mixed lot and at least not all Gauls. They had been in the vanguard of the approaching enemy column, initially causing the belief that the entire force was Gallic. However, once they spread out, we could see that there were indeed Numidians, along with a relatively large force of what looked like light infantry, even though the
y looked more like an armed mob than anything formidable, except in numbers. Our cavalry was split in two, each contingent being sent to our flanks, with the archers arrayed in front of us, and the enemy was doing basically the same thing. However, their numbers, especially in cavalry, were much greater than ours, so that in effect, we were facing a mass of cavalry. We were opposite a force that was not only numerically superior, but was composed in almost exactly opposite proportion between cavalry and infantry than our forces. As we made our final preparations, Caesar sent a man on a fast horse back to Ruspina to summon the rest of our cavalry to help balance the odds a bit, and once we were done shaking out, there was nothing much for us to do but wait. We had been in the lead, meaning we were once again on the far right flank, and despite being glad that it was us, with such a large cavalry force it also meant that we were the most vulnerable to attack from the flank. Surprisingly, for some time the enemy did not seem to be any more anxious to close with us than we were to be attacked, their only action inching closer to just outside the range of our javelins, then standing there, jeering at us. Finally, the move came that most of us were dreading, the enemy formation suddenly wheeling, roughly starting in the center where at an imaginary line bisecting the enemy force, men turned in opposite directions to begin extending their own line outwards in a clear move to envelop us. From behind the horsemen in the center, the Numidian infantry came dashing forward, each man carrying several javelins, smaller and lighter than ours but able to do damage nonetheless. They began flinging their missiles at the men in the center of our formation, who were forced to raise their shields to block the onslaught. When something happens somewhere other than your immediate area, there is a natural tendency for men and officers alike to turn their attention to wherever the excitement is, and I am just as prone to do it as anyone. Fortunately, the movement of the cavalry trotting across our front, heading for our flank, did a wonderful job of focusing my attention on the more immediate threat. My mind raced watching the enemy horsemen flow like water around the edge of our formation, trying to come up with the best solution to the problem.