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Legions of Rome Page 34

by Stephen Dando-Collins


  Up the Rhine at Mogontiacum, Flaccus was finally on the move. Dispatching orders to Gallus at Bonna to send his 16th Gallica cohorts to meet him at Novaesium, and joined by auxiliary reinforcements from Vindonissa 200 miles (320 kilometers) away in present-day Switzerland, Flaccus sent his army south under his deputy, Dillius Vocula, legate of the recently reconstituted 18th Legion, which had six cohorts at Mogontiacum. Gout-ridden Flaccus himself followed the marching column in a boat on the Rhine.

  On the march, rumor flourished among the troops. Those who were strongly pro-Vitellius became convinced that old Flaccus had deliberately muddled the response to Civilis’ revolt because he was a secret Vespasian supporter. Becoming aware of the unrest, Flaccus addressed the troops at their next marching camp, reading aloud a letter from Vespasian’s generals urging him to go over to Vespasian. To prove to his men where his loyalties lay, Flaccus had the soldiers from Vespasian’s army who had brought him the message clapped in irons and sent to Vitellius in Rome. This seemed to satisfy the men, and the march resumed.

  When Flaccus and his force reached Bonna they were greeted enthusiastically by the cohorts of the 1st Germanica Legion. As the relief force camped at Bonna, men of the 1st complained bitterly to the new arrivals that Flaccus had failed to give them the promised support for their attack on the Batavians and Canninefates outside Bonna. To quiet his men, Flaccus took the unprecedented step of instructing the standard-bearers of the legions to read aloud his final written order to Gallus not to attack the Batavians and Canninefates, an order the men of the 1st Legion had chosen to flout. Flaccus’ most vocal critic in the 1st Legion ranks was then put in chains, but the soldier loudly declared that he had conveyed secret messages from Flaccus to Civilis the rebel and he was only being pulled from the ranks so he could be silenced. General Flaccus hesitated, looking suddenly guilty.

  At this knife-edge of a moment, his well-liked deputy Vocula, commander of the 18th Legion, stepped on to the tribunal and ordered the legionary of the 1st executed immediately. Experienced soldiers of the legions voiced their approval; others watched in terrified silence as the legionary was pressed to his knees and deprived of his head with the flash of a centurion’s sword. Old Flaccus, knowing that in that moment of hesitation he had lost his men’s confidence, handed supreme command of the expedition to Vocula, and retired to his tent. Next day, when the force resumed its march under Vocula’s command, Flaccus returned to Mogontiacum by boat.

  Overnight, Vocula made his friend Gallus of the 16th Gallica his second-in-command, and attached part of 1st Germanica to the force, leaving its remaining cohorts at Bonna to guard the fort. On reaching Novaesium, the force was joined by the waiting cohorts of Gallus’ 16th Legion. The now enlarged army advanced down the Rhine toward the besieged Old Camp, setting up a new camp at Gelduba, today’s Gellep, not far from Novaesium.

  Vocula seems to have decided to attempt to weld his mutinous troops into a disciplined force before taking on Civilis. Either that or he was a Vespasian sympathizer and was deliberately wasting time—as many of his men suspected. His troops passed the next few weeks building a fortress at Gelduba and going through strenuous exercises on the plain outside it. The rank and file continued to be firmly loyal to Vitellius, and, increasingly convinced that their senior officers leaned toward Vespasian, their confidence in, and trust of, their commanders began to dissolve.

  While Vocula was leading a detachment on a raid of pro-Civilis villages of the Gugerni tribe, Gallus, in charge at Gelduba, watched as a supply ship coming down the Rhine from Mogontiacum and laden with grain for his force, ran aground in the shallows just upstream. Northern Europe was experiencing a severe drought at the time, and the depth of the Rhine had fallen so much that in places it was almost unnavigable. German tribesmen soon appeared on the eastern bank, splashed across the river, slaughtered the ship’s crew, then tried to drag the vessel off to their side of the river.

  Gallus sent a cohort of legionaries to save the ship, but as they reached it, more Germans appeared; the outnumbered Romans were soon fighting for survival. As Gallus sent in additional troops, more Germans kept arriving. This had every appearance of a premeditated plan. Gallus finally gave up the ship and sounded “Recall,” after which the smarting legionaries fought their way back to the fort.

  That night, the legionaries involved descended on the general’s tent, dragged Gallus out and kicked and beat him, for they were convinced the grain ship episode had been an ambush in which he had been complicit. With a dagger to his throat, Gallus said that their old general Flaccus had been responsible for the ambush. When Vocula arrived back with his raiding party, he found Gallus in irons. Incensed, Vocula freed Gallus, and next morning he summarily executed the ringleaders of the assault on his deputy. But the damage had been done. Soldiers had laid hands on their general. A dangerous precedent had been set.

  All this time, Civilis continued the siege of Old Camp. One band of boastful Germans, drunk on Roman wine, tried to scale the walls one night, lighting their way by setting fire to piles of logs. The fire behind them only made the Germans easy targets for legionaries defending the walls. Drunken, half-naked Germans kept on coming, ignoring the men falling in droves all around them impaled by javelins, arrows from catapults and flying stakes. Civilis had to intervene, dowse the fires, and terminate the assault before the entire German contingent was wiped out.

  Roman successes like this kept the spirits of the defenders of Old Camp high, but their strength was waning. Having eaten their cavalry and pack animals, they had resorted to eating grass and roots. On the heels of the failed German night assault, Civilis sent a two-storied siege tower against the fort’s praetorian gate. But as weak as they were, the legionaries used long poles to collapse the tower, crushing many besiegers. A defender also created a crane-like device via which a net would drop down and snare one or more attackers then fly back up; by shifting weights, legionaries then flung ensnared rebels inside the fort, to meet waiting defenders’ blades.

  It was late October when news reached the Rhine that there had been a seventeen-hour battle at Bedriacum, in northern Italy, between the armies of Vitellius and his challenger Vespasian, followed immediately by a brief siege and four-day sack of the crowded city of Cremona; 50,000 soldiers and civilians had died. Vespasian’s army, commanded by Marcus Antonius Primus, had won both encounters, and the men of Vitellius’ army were dead or prisoners. Vitellius, now supported by little more than his Praetorian Guard and German Guard, was cut off at Rome. Primus was marching on the capital with one army, with Licinius Mucianus, governor of Syria, not far behind him with another Vespasianist army from the East, led by the 6th Ferrata Legion. Vitellius’ end seemed only a matter of time.

  For those officers on the Rhine who favored Vespasian, it appeared to be time that their legions accepted the inevitable and swore for Vespasian. At Mogontiacum, old Flaccus called together his remaining troops and read out a message from Vitellius’ general Caecina in which Caecina said that Vitellius’ cause was lost. Flaccus’ troops refused to believe it, and stood poker-faced as their general read a second letter, from Vespasian’s general Primus, requiring the men of the Rhine legions to swear allegiance to Vespasian. Flaccus then brought forward Alpinius Montanus, until recently a prefect of Treveran auxiliaries with Vitellius’ army in Italy. Montanus, a Treveran, had served with many of these men at Mogontiacum, and the truth began to dawn on the shocked troops as he told them how he had fought for Vitellius at Bedriacum and Cremona, and how with his own eyes he had seen their emperor’s army comprehensively defeated.

  Flaccus then administered the new oath of allegiance to the disheartened troops. The Gallic auxiliaries swore for Vespasian without any difficulty. But while the legionaries spoke the words of the oath, most mumbled the name of Vespasian or skipped it altogether. Despite the news from Cremona, and despite the fact that Vitellius was fat and pretentious, to the troops of the Rhine armies Vitellius was their general, while Vespasian was the ge
neral of the armies in the East, which they considered their inferiors.

  Finally, Flaccus read out a letter from Primus to Civilis, instructing him to end his revolt now that Vespasian was on the eve of final victory. But instead of reassuring the troops that peace was at hand, this only confirmed their suspicions that Vespasian’s generals had encouraged Civilis to revolt in the first place. The men remained insolently silent as they were dismissed. Montanus was sent to Bonna, Cologne, and Novaesium to repeat his story of Vitellian defeat, and to repeat the administering of the oath to Vespasian to the troops there. Last to be visited was Vocula’s relief column at Gelduba; they, too, reluctantly swore for Vespasian.

  Montanus next went as Vespasian’s envoy to Civilis, passing on Primus’ letter requiring the rebel leader to lay down his arms. If Civilis had truly been trying to help Vespasian, said the letter, his purpose had now been fully accomplished. Montanus returned to Flaccus at Mogontiacum to say that Civilis adamantly refused to cease hostilities. What Montanus failed to tell Flaccus was that he and his brother, another officer with a Treveran unit, planned to defect to Civilis.

  Civilis now went on the offensive. Putting Batavian countryman Julius Maximus in command of a large force, with Civilis’ nephew Claudius Victor as his deputy, Civilis sent them against Vocula. Maximus cunningly skirted Gelduba then turned and came at the fort from the Roman end of the Rhine. Vocula was literally caught looking the wrong way. The rebels were on the Roman troops so quickly they didn’t even have time to form a proper battle line. As his men bunched on the plain, Vocula strove to position the 1st Germanica, 16th Gallica and 18th legions in the center of his disorganized formation while his auxiliary cavalry charged the rebels.

  But the Roman-trained Batavians stood firm. Vocula’s cavalry shied away and galloped back to the camp. Now the Nervian auxiliaries on one of Vocula’s flanks gave way and fled—through panic, or treachery. The rebels charged the legions’ exposed flank. It all had a familiar ring to it. The legions fell back to the camp, leaving countless dead on the field. One after the other, Roman standard-bearers fell and standards were lost to the enemy. Bewildered young legionaries threw down their arms and surrendered. Veteran soldiers were pressed back against the trench outside their fort and cut down in droves. A gate to the fort was forced, and rebels pushed their way inside.

  It was now that Fortune smiled on the Romans. For months, Flaccus has been promising to send reinforcements from Mogontiacum; now, several thousand Vascon auxiliaries levied the previous year in Gaul arrived, marching over the hill behind the attackers. Turning to see Roman standards advancing on their exposed rear, rebels thought that Roman troops from Novaesium had arrived, or worse, all of Flaccus’ troops from Mogontiacum were approaching.

  Seeing the rebels suddenly uncertain, Vocula’s legionaries regained the initiative. As the Vascon troops advanced, the rebels outside the camp were caught between them and Vocula’s men. Batavians who had fought their way into the camp were trapped and wiped out. Only the Batavian cavalry escaped unscathed, taking with them the Roman standards and prisoners captured earlier. The veteran Batavian infantry and many young Germans were killed. But even so, the legions had suffered heavier casualties. Buoyed by this much needed though expensive victory, Vocula decided at last to raise the siege at Old Camp.

  At Old Camp, Civilis paraded the captured standards and prisoners taken by Maximus at Gelduba, for the starving legionaries manning the walls to see. He called to the men of the 5th Alaudae and 15th Primigeneia that Vocula and the relief force had been wiped out, and that here was the proof. But one of the captured legionaries yelled that it was all a lie, that Vocula had actually won the day at Gelduba. His German captors angrily killed the vocal legionary on the spot, but the damage had been done—now the besieged men knew that Civilis had at last suffered a reverse at the hands of Roman legions. Their defiance redoubled.

  Just days later, lookouts at Old Camp spotted fires breaking out in distant farmhouses. Vocula’s cavalry was sweeping ahead of his advance, destroying everything in their path. Soon, Old Camp’s trapped legionaries saw Vocula’s legions and auxiliaries marching to their relief. But then, as Civilis called his men to arms, Vocula ordered his troops to halt and build a fortification before they attacked. His incredulous men refused, declaring they were here to fight, not dig. They demanded that Vocula lead them to the attack. As Vocula hesitated, the legionaries rushed forward anyway, not even bothering to form a line, certain they would repeat the Gelduba victory.

  The two armies met in the fields. In loose order the legionaries halted to receive a volley of rebel javelins, then pushed forward and came to grips with the rebel line. Under heavy pressure, the rebels slowly fell back. When Vocula sounded “Reform,” the legionaries formed up in their ranks, behind their standards. Inside Old Camp, Lupercus and Rufus chose their strongest men, opened the fort gates, and sent them hurrying out into the fray. Scrambling over the rebel siege works with renewed strength, these legionaries surged into the rebel rear. In the mêlée, Civilis’ horse was felled, sending him crashing to the ground. As Civilis was carried away, word spread through both armies that he was dead. Rebel troops panicked, and fled.

  Elated Roman troops started to give chase, but Vocula sounded “Recall,” and they reluctantly obeyed. Vocula’s troops marched into Old Camp, where they were greeted as saviors by their besieged comrades. Vocula had food distributed to the starving garrison, then ordered his men to repair and strengthen the walls and towers of the fort. His troops could not believe he would not go after Civilis. But his mind was set. Grumbling among themselves, the troops followed orders.

  “Nothing distressed our troops so much as the scarcity of supplies,” said Tacitus of the men at Old Camp. Realizing that the supply situation was critical, Vocula immediately sent his baggage train back to Novaesium to bring grain from the granary there. The baggage train returned laden with supplies, and once it had been unloaded Vocula turned it around and sent it back to Novaesium for more. [Ibid., 35]

  On the other side, Civilis had not only survived, but within a few days was well enough to reform his army and revise his plans. As news of his recovery flew down the Rhine, his troops returned to their standards. Meanwhile, rebel cavalry had watched the first supply train go to Novaesium and back. When Vocula attempted to repeat the act, the loaded supply train was ambushed. The fight extended along the full length of the grain train, lasting until darkness gave the escort the opportunity to escape. Civilis’ men claimed the train’s load.

  Despite this loss, Vocula’s commissariat officers assured him that there were now enough provisions at Old Camp to keep 4,000 legionaries and a proportionate number of non-combatants fed through the winter. The young general called for 1,000 volunteers from the 5,000 or more men now holding Old Camp—they would march with his army, he said, while the remainder continued to hold Old Camp. Not surprisingly, 2,000 men stepped forward, complaining that they’d had enough of starvation and treacherous legion commanders.

  Vocula chose his thousand, left Lupercus in charge of the other 4,000, and marched the remainder of his troops out of the camp gates. As he departed, many men left behind at Old Camp cursed him loudly from the walls for leaving them to their fate. And the men marching with him concurred. As soon as Vocula’s column was out of sight, the rebels returned and again surrounded Old Camp. The spirits of the men holding the fort plummeted.

  Abandoning Gelduba, Vocula withdrew to Novaesium. There, he was joined by 4th Macedonica Legion cohorts sent from Mogontiacum by Flaccus. Despite these reinforcements, after Civilis’ cavalry roundly defeated Vocula’s cavalry one chilly day outside Novaesium, Vocula sat inside the walls there and refused to budge. Word now reached Vocula’s troops that the emperor Vitellius had some time before sent money to Flaccus as a “donative” to the troops, to celebrate his coming to the throne. But Flaccus had sat on the money. Vocula’s troops now went on strike, demanding their cash.

  Begrudgingly, Flaccus paid up,
making it clear he was paying in the name of Vespasian, not Vitellius. The money was distributed to all the troops on the Rhine, and they celebrated by promptly getting drunk. One group of legionaries at Mogontiacum, inflamed by too much wine and months of discontent, went to old Flaccus’ quarters, dragged him from his bed, declared him a traitor, and plunged their swords into him. Having murdered the governor of the German provinces and commanding general on the Rhine, the troops at Mogontiacum completed their mutiny by overthrowing their officers and restoring the statues of Vitellius that Flaccus had ordered taken down.

  Hearing about the revolution at Mogontiacum, Civilis quickly marched a rebel army overland, ignoring the garrisons at Novaesium, Cologne and Bonna, intent on taking Mogontiacum while its troops were in chaos. When the legionaries at Mogontiacum learned that the rebels were coming, they at first formed up in the field to do battle. But, as the rebels drew closer, the legionaries turned and ran. Some deserted their legions. The balance fled back to their fortress and closed the gates. Civilis surrounded the camp, and cut all escape routes.

  When a messenger reached Vocula at Novaesium with the news that the troops at Mogontiacum had mutinied and murdered his superior Flaccus, although merely a legion commander he found himself senior Roman commander on the Rhine, with much of the region in rebel hands and Old Camp and Mogontiacum cut off.

  On December 20, Vespasian’s army, under his irrepressible general Primus, fought its way into Rome, and Vitellius’ own troops murdered the emperor in his Palatium. The following day, the Senate officially proclaimed Vespasian, who was still in Egypt, the new emperor of Rome.

 

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