Livy says of the combat on the wing that ‘the fight was more fierce than of long duration, and the battered Roman cavalrymen turned their backs and fled’. It is always difficult to know what to make of such vague and relative statements of time, but the Romans appear to have broken not long after the infantry centres clashed. The Roman plan required their cavalry to hold out for as long as possible so that their overwhelming assault would have time to smash through the Punic centre. Conversely Hannibal needed his left wing, where he had stationed at least two-thirds of his mounted men, to rout their opponents as swiftly as possible and then return to the attack. It was Hasdrubal rather than Paullus who was best able to achieve his objective, and considerable credit must go to this officer for leading his men in such a furious charge. The Carthaginians had a great numerical superiority, somewhere between two and three to one, but were probably prevented from gaining much advantage from this due to the confined space. More importantly they were better motivated and more confident than their opponents, for throughout the early years of the Second Punic War Roman cavalry had lost virtually all the engagements which they had fought. Included in the cavalry at Cannae were almost certainly some of the survivors of the routs at Ticinus and Trebia and it is more than likely that the Roman horse had simply accustomed themselves to the idea of losing to their Carthaginian opponents. Roman horsemen were recruited from the wealthiest classes and it may be that the accounts of their determined resistance were exaggerated to please these influential citizens, something taken to an extreme by Appian who tells of them hurling back several assaults.30
For whatever reasons, the Roman right wing gave way and dissolved into rout. Hasdrubal’s men pursued them, cutting down many of the fugitives, their flight made difficult by the shape of the river. Paullus, his staff, and perhaps some others went to join the infantry, but the majority of the Roman cavalrymen were killed or dispersed and would take no further part in the fighting. Hasdrubal exercised very tight control of his men. If, as suggested earlier, his troops had begun the battle in several lines, then only the first line may have actually been committed to the fighting and subsequent pursuit. The narrowness of the plain edged by the meandering river and the proximity of the smaller Roman camp may have helped to keep the pursuers together as well as hindering the Romans’ escape. It was not long before the bulk of the Carthaginian left wing cavalry was re-formed and rested, ready to re-enter the battle.
On the opposite flank, where the Numidians faced Varro and the allied horse, the fighting had been far more tentative. These light horsemen fought in their traditional way, small groups closing to throw javelins, but rapidly retreating before the enemy could reach them with a charge. It is highly unlikely that these missiles caused significant casualties. Varro’s men seem to have made little effort to drive the enemy back. Their role was simply to protect the infantry’s flank and merely staying where they were achieved this satisfactorily. Livy claims that some disorder was occasioned at the very beginning of the battle when a group of 500 Numidians pretended to desert to the Romans. These men are supposed to have carried swords concealed under their body armour (which in fact the Numidians rarely, if ever, wore) and, once they were behind the Roman lines, had suddenly attacked them from the rear. In Appian it is a group of 500 Celtiberians who employ the same ruse. It is unlikely that either story is true, but such tales of Punic treachery may have been current even in the immediate aftermath of the battle as attempts to explain the Romans’ overwhelming defeat as anything other than their simply having been outfought.31
The Roman Centre Advances
Although Hannibal had advanced the centre of his main line to form the crescent-shaped formation before the battle, these troops do not subsequently seem to have moved any further forward. Instead, once the skirmishers had fought their indecisive combat and withdrawn through the narrow gaps in the main lines, it was the Roman infantry who attacked. Elsewhere Polybius twice tells us that it was the Roman custom at this time to advance noisily, the men cheering and clashing their weapons against their wooden shields, whilst the trumpeters carrying the curved military horn, the cornu, added their blare to the cacophony of noise. Visually the massed ranks of Roman infantry can only have been an intimidating sight. At a distance, and the armies may have begun up to about a kilometre apart, the small intervals between maniples were probably scarcely visible and the Roman centre must have appeared an almost solid mass of rank upon rank of armoured men behind oval shields. The legionaries and allied troops were probably not uniformed in the modern sense, since each man supplied his own equipment and we do not know for instance whether legions painted their shields in a certain colour or with a specific device, but the minor differences in appearance would only have been apparent at close range. It is probable that, like soldiers in later Roman armies, the men in 216 had taken care to dress well for a battle, polishing armour and helmets, and donning the tall crests which added to each man’s apparent height. By the time that the Roman centre began to lumber forward, the men were undoubtedly covered in a thin layer of the dust, clouds of which continued to be thrown up by their marching feet and whipped around in the gusting wind.32
The greatly outnumbered Gauls and Spaniards watched as the grand Roman attack came straight towards them. They too raised their battle cries, clashed weapons together and blew their trumpets, including no doubt the tall carnyx which was said to produce an especially harsh note. Perhaps individual warriors ran a little way forward to show off their prowess and display their contempt for the enemy, for such acts of bravado were common in tribal warfare. Our sources emphasize the wild and frightening appearance of these tribesmen, the Spanish supposedly in their usual white tunics with red or purple borders, the Gauls clad in trousers but with bare torsos. The noise and displays served the same purpose for both sides. It was hard for troops to advance or wait in silence to fight a visible enemy, and shouting relieved the tension and helped the men to cope with their growing fear. They shouted louder to show themselves that they were not truly afraid, and the more their comrades joined in the more they encouraged each other. Thus soldiers urged themselves on, whilst the noise they made and the appearance of confidence they presented would hopefully intimidate the enemy. The early phases of a battle were fought as much in the mind as with physical weapons, for if one side shouted louder and appeared more formidable then the other side’s spirit declined and might even collapse. In extreme cases appearance alone was enough to convince troops that they could not win and put them to flight before a blow was struck. It was said that the German tribes could tell which way a battle would go simply by listening to the shouts raised by the rival armies.33
In this case both sides were highly confident and do not seem to have been unduly intimidated by the opposition. The Gauls and Spaniards had the confidence of past victories over similar Roman armies, and perhaps there was pride too, for they had been chosen from all the Punic army to be the first to meet the enemy’s main attack. This was an opportunity to prove their courage in plain view and may have exploited a similar urge to the one which had led the naked Gaesatae to run out ahead of the main line and challenge the enemy at Telamon in 225 BC. The advancing Romans trusted to the superiority of their numbers, but some may have remembered that even in their recent defeats legionaries had often prevailed over such unarmoured warriors. Both sides were encouraged by the many officers in or near the front of the formation, moving around and urging on the soldiers.34
Eventually the Romans came within range of missiles. Tests with reconstructed pila suggest that this heavy throwing spear had a maximum range of between 25 and 30m, and effective range of about half that distance. Other javelins, including those probably used by the Gauls and some of the Spaniards, may have had a slightly, but not substantially, longer range. Whether all soldiers waited until they were within the most effective range before throwing their pilum or javelin is highly questionable. Modern studies of combat suggest that only a minority of soldiers actua
lly fired their personal weapon during a firefight and that even fewer did so with care and took trouble to aim. Both sides had been yelling for some time, nervously watching as the gap separating their own and the enemy’s line grew narrower. Shouting helped them to fight against their fear, but the urge to do something to strike at and frighten off the approaching enemy must have been overwhelming. Throwing a missile at that enemy was the best way of striking at and perhaps driving off the foe.
In the later, professional Roman army, the tactical doctrine was to advance slowly, in good order, and complete silence towards the enemy. Then, probably within 15m–the pilum’s effective range–they delivered a devastating volley of pila and immediately charged, at last breaking their silence yelling out a war cry and letting the trumpets blare. The first century AD Jewish historian Josephus, who gives us our only account from a non-Roman of what it was like to face such an attack, spoke of the terrifying moment when legionaries finally broke their silence and charged. This method of fighting required an immensely high level of discipline which was only the product of good training. Even so, there appear to have been cases when this discipline was not enough and the attack was not pressed, degenerating instead to a more sporadic exchange of missiles. Most armies in the third century BC, and especially the legions at Cannae, simply did not have this level of training. Polybius tells us that each legionary carried two pila, one lighter than the other. It would not be physically possible for a man to throw two missiles with a range of less than 30m whilst he ran charging towards the enemy. This was especially true if that enemy was in turn charging towards him. Nor was it possible for a soldier to hold the second pilum with his left hand and still employ his shield properly. Not only was the Roman scutum very heavy, but it was held with a horizontal handgrip making it impractical to clutch this firmly and hold onto the shaft of a pilum at the same time. If both pila were carried in battle, which seems likely but is not certain, then the Romans must have halted for a while, close to the enemy line, to allow time to throw these before actually charging home. Probably a degree of hesitation a short distance apart was normal if both sides had failed to frighten the enemy sufficiently with their appearance, noise and confidence as they advanced. A recent study of the tactics of Roman infantry in the Republic suggests that exchanges of missiles could occupy considerable time.35
As the Roman centre started to come within missile range men on either side began to throw spears, javelins or pila. At first most probably dropped short or lacked the momentum to drive through the wooden shields which protected most of a man’s body. Later, as the distance separating the two lines narrowed, some of the missiles began to strike home with greater force, punching through shields and perhaps even helmet or armour. Men crouched behind their long shields to gain as much coverage as possible, the Romans doubtless walking forward with heads bowed as if walking into a wind in the timeless posture of infantry advancing under fire. The majority of wounds were probably to the unprotected lower legs and occasionally to the face. Such casualties were probably led away to the rear, although there is some evidence of men fighting on with a number of non-incapacitating wounds in certain circumstances. The Roman pilum frequently had a barbed head and was designed to be very difficult to remove once it had punctured a shield. Some of the Gauls and Spaniards were most likely faced with the choice of dropping their shields after a pilum hit or fighting on with the shield awkwardly weighed down by the heavy weapon.
The whole Roman line appears to have halted once it came close to the enemy centre, even though much of the Roman front was still a fair distance from Hannibal’s refused flanks. Close contact with the enemy often appears to have resulted in such inertia in ancient battles and the movements of armies were far more tentative than we might expect. In the central sector huge numbers of missiles were thrown by either side, but the vast majority fell short or struck harmlessly against shields. On either side only the front, and to a lesser extent the second ranks could actually see the enemy and make any effort to aim. The men behind were simply lobbing their weapons blindly forward in the hope that they would land somewhere amongst the enemy mass. There were roughly the same number of Gauls and Spaniards as there were hastati in the first Roman line, and it is probable that both were formed in considerable depth. As a result many men, perhaps over half of each line, were too far away to have any hope of reaching the enemy with a thrown javelin. Fatal casualties were few on either side, but the sheer number of long-shafted javelins whizzing through the air made all the participants vividly aware that they were now in physical danger. This added to the pressure already created by the closeness of the enemy, their appearance of strength and confidence and the noise of war cries and trumpets, all of which continued throughout the exchange of missiles.
The Charge to Contact
As in the initial advance, neither side gained a decisive advantage in the missile battle and eventually the two lines met. Perhaps this was gradual, the Romans edging forward whilst throwing their pila, or more sudden as their officers were able to lead them in a charge sword in hand. The hastati had lost some of their order during the advance and subsequent javelin combat, but it still may have been possible, in spite of the noise and confusion, for centurions and tribunes to urge the maniples closest to the enemy to charge together. The Celts and Spaniards may have come forward to meet them, for it seems to have been unusual for infantry to remain entirely on the defensive against other foot, unless they were formed in an especially dense formation which made movement difficult. Shouting was redoubled as each side tried to appear as confident and frightening as possible when they at last closed.
Hand-to-hand combat is especially difficult for us to visualize accurately and all too often conjures up images which have more to do with Hollywood than with reality. In cinematic epics the two armies rapidly intermingle, every soldier fighting aggressively in combats which always end in the death of one of the participants. The whole swirling scene rarely lasts for more than a few frenzied minutes in which huge casualties are inflicted on both sides. In recent centuries hand-to-hand combat has been very rare, even in battles involving armies armed primarily with edged weapons, and massed fighting between formed units of men has been virtually unknown, since almost invariably one side or the other fled before actual contact. There is a good deal of evidence to suggest that in ancient battles it was also not uncommon for one side to rout before a blow had actually been struck or after very little fighting, but it is also certain that sometimes the opposing sides fought longer combats. From the descriptions in our sources, skeletal remains of the dead from battles fought with edged weapons, and comparison with modern studies of the behaviour of soldiers during the stress of combat, it is possible to reconstruct a picture of how such combats were fought. The evidence from more recent periods suggests that only a minority of soldiers even in élite units actually fought with the intention of killing the enemy. Another, probably smaller minority invariably failed to cope with combat, whilst the majority fought in a limited way, their priority to defend themselves far stronger than the urge to wound the enemy. As a result hand-to-hand combat between massed units was probably a good deal more tentative than our imagination or Hollywood images might suggest.36
The charge across the last few metres separating the two sides was accompanied by increased shouting and culminated in the noise of shield striking shield. Neither side needed to be moving very quickly to create the audible clash of arms described in some sources. It is extremely unlikely that men ran straight into each other hoping to barge into and knock their opponents over, for this risked losing their own balance and a man on the ground during a mêlée was immensely vulnerable. Nor did the men in the ranks behind push them on in such a physical sense as has been argued by many of the studies of hoplite warfare, since this in turn would only have unbalanced the front ranks. When the rear ranks of a formation pushed too closely behind the men in the lead it put these at a severe disadvantage, preventing them from fight
ing properly and causing heavy casualties as a result. Attackers began the charge at a run, but if the defenders stood or advanced as steadily to meet them, it seems that both lines checked their pace and then walked or shuffled into actual contact. They would only accelerate their running charge if the enemy gave way before them and it was a question of chasing and striking at their helpless backs.37
When the two lines met, the battle became in many respects a series of small duels fought between the individuals facing each other in the opposing front ranks. All of the soldiers engaged at this stage of the fighting at Cannae were primarily swordsmen, and only men in the front rank were capable of reaching the enemy with their weapons. Both the Romans and the Spanish used swords with comparatively short blades which could be used to deliver either a cut or a thrust effectively. Many of the Gauls employed a longer type which was primarily intended for cutting. Some of these blades lacked a point altogether and many lacked any significant counterweight, such as a heavy pommel, so that they were unbalanced and end-heavy. This added to the force of a blow, especially a downward slash, but made the sword awkward to wield. The natural first blow for a right-handed man using such a long sword was a downward, diagonal cut to the right side of his opponent’s head or shoulders. After the sword had been raised again, it would then have been easier to aim a series of straighter slashes down at the enemy’s left side. A warrior fighting in this way inevitably exposed his right arm and some of his right side as he did so. The shorter swords used by the Romans and Spanish could be used in a similar way to deliver downward cuts, although they had less reach and weight than the Gallic long sword, but were also effective as thrusting weapons. Ancient swordsmen stood in the opposite way to a modern fencer, with their right arm furthest from their opponent, since it was vital to have their shielded left side protecting against any threat. As a result, a man could not put the weight of his own body behind a lunge without turning his less well defended right side towards his opponent. Normal thrusts, delivered with no more than the strength and force of his right arm, were unlikely to penetrate an opponent’s shield with sufficient force to carry on and inflict a wound. It was therefore necessary to aim blows around the enemy’s shield, striking perhaps at his head or face, right arm or lower legs.
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