Marching With Caesar - Civil War (6 page)

~ ~ ~ ~

We began working the next morning at dawn in the manner prescribed by Caesar, and there was a sense of anticipation running through the men, a sense that the Centurions shared. Once an army is forced to slaughter its pack animals, that is a sure sign that the end is near because they are sacrificing their mobility; they must either stand and fight, or in turn be slaughtered themselves. The progress of our work slowed because of the reduced labor force, but it was still significant. Finally, in the afternoon, there was a stirring in the Pompeian camp. Since our camps were not more than a few hundred paces apart, we could clearly hear the sounds of the
cornu
and
bucina
that were sending the Pompeians into a frenzy of activity. Not long after, Caesar issued his own orders, so our horns added to the din, calling the men working on the contravallation to stop and make their way back to camp, while the men in camp who were resting now hurried to gather their weapons and fall into formation. I walked around my Cohort area, while Longus and Crispus brought back our men out working on the contravallation, and I made sure the rest of the men were moving as quickly as I thought they should be, helped by an occasional prod from my
vitus
.

Before the end of the watch, the Pompeians left their camp to form up in an
acies
triplex
facing ours, and there they stood waiting for us. It was another third of a watch before all of our men had returned from their work, whereupon we in turn left our camp to face the enemy. Despite also forming up in an
acies triplex
, Caesar modified it from our usual practice by placing the archers that had arrived with the Gallic column, along with a contingent of slingers with us from the beginning, in the center of the formation. He then deployed our cavalry in two wings, one on either side of the formation. The 10
^th
took what we considered our rightful place on the right wing, making ready for whatever was to come. Because of the relatively narrow space between the two camps, by the time both armies arrayed themselves, there was little more than 200 paces between the two armies, putting us close enough to recognize some of the men facing us. I believe to this day that it was that recognition of friends and kin that stopped the battle, since the sun crept through the sky and no orders were issued by either side. There was a constant buzz of excited muttering, as men recognized each other.

“By the gods, Glabius, isn’t that that bastard Serenus over there? I haven’t seen him since the three of us . . .”

“Pluto’s thorny cock, I didn’t know Fuscus was still under the standard! I thought he was dead!”

“Quiet down, you bastards,” I roared. “You act like you’ve never been on a battlefield before.”

“Not on one where I’m staring at my cousin,” came a voice from the ranks.

I whirled around, knowing that I should find the man who said that, but truly, my heart was not in it because I knew how he felt. Meeting up with Cyclops had brought home to me what it meant to these men to be standing here, facing friends and relatives. Oh, we had gone through multiple skirmishes, but our cavalry had done the bulk of the fighting; they were Germans and had no connection with the men standing across from us. Even after the incident in the Pompeian camp, we still largely held no animosity towards the rank and file of the Pompeian army, knowing that the slaughter of our men was the doing of Petreius and, to a lesser extent, Afranius, who had not stopped Petreius. Consequently, we stood there, waiting for a command that I do not believe any of us wanted to follow, but one that I knew we would if it indeed came.

Fortunately, Caesar was no more eager for this battle than we were. Obviously, neither were Afranius and Petreius, because the sun dipped to the edge of the horizon before the horns sounded the recall, first on the Pompeian side, then on ours, and we all filed back inside our respective camps, wondering if we would be doing the same thing the next day.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning found us resuming the work on the contravallation, while Petreius and Afranius took one last desperate roll of the dice by sending groups of their cavalry out to find possible fords across the Sicoris, now only a couple of miles distant. Caesar countered the move by sending detachments of our own cavalry, beating the Pompeians to the river and setting up a chain of outposts at every likely crossing point, thereby defeating the Pompeian attempt before it even started. The end had come for the Pompeians. They had been out of forage for their remaining stock for four days, had run out of food for the men the day before, and were now out of water. Shortly before midday, a party of Pompeians approached the camp under a flag of truce, asking for an audience with Caesar, which he granted. The representative asked Caesar that he grant the request of Afranius that the discussion take place out of our sight, which Caesar denied, indicating that the negotiations should take place in the open between the two camps. Afranius had no choice but to agree and sent his son over to us as a hostage, waiting for Caesar roughly halfway between our two camps. Our ramparts were packed with men watching the exchange between our two generals and I am not ashamed to say that I had one of the best seats in the theater, by virtue of my size and reputation as much as by my rank. We could not hear what was said, meaning we had to try to translate the body language and gestures of the two men in order to try to make some sense of what was taking place. As usual, there was always some wit who provided his own version of the dialogue; while I do not remember who it was on this occasion, it brought to mind the painful recollection that in the past it had been Calienus who kept us almost doubled over in laughter as he played the part of some Gallic chieftain begging Caesar for mercy.

“Oooooh, great Caesar, I am here to beg you not to kill us, and I’ll do anything you ask.” This was spoken in a high falsetto voice by someone a short distance down the rampart, causing some snickers.

“Really? What do you mean by ‘anything’?”

Although the part of Caesar was spoken in a deeper voice, it obviously came from the same man.

“Why, I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock, right here in front of everyone,” the falsetto replied, and the snickers quickly became guffaws of laughter.

“Well, that’s certainly a tempting offer. I haven’t had my cock sucked in, oh, well since this morning . . .”

I could not hear what he said after that, since it was drowned out by laughter. I knew that either myself or one of the other Centurions should be shutting the unknown comedian up, but I glanced over at Primus Pilus Torquatus and he was grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself as much as the rest of the men. And so was I, so I laughed along with everyone else.

“But I’m afraid that my men would need to have their cocks sucked as well. It’s been much longer for most of them.”

“Welllll,” the falsetto tried to convey a sense of doubt, “it would take me a while, but I suppose…”

At this point, our laughter must have reached the ears of Caesar, because he turned around to glare back at us, and there is no way to describe how quickly the mirth died away. Each of us felt sure that he was looking directly at us, even we Centurions felt a flip-flopping in our stomachs. Caesar was a fair and even-tempered commander, but we had all seen him lose it and none of us wanted to bear the brunt of his anger. Turning to snap an order to be quiet, I instantly saw that there was no need; you could have heard a gnat fart in the silence.

The conference continued, and we clearly saw Caesar shake his head, the gesture met by a look of dismay on the face of Afranius. However, Caesar continued speaking and we could see Afranius’ expression change, his face assuming a look of unmistakable relief. Whatever was said could obviously be heard by the Pompeian Legions standing on their own rampart, because a huge roar of joy came rolling across the ground, assaulting our ears in waves of exultation.

The Primus Pilus turned to me, and with a grin said, “Well, I guess we won.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Won we had, and then some. With a minimum of bloodshed, Caesar had achieved the disbandment of Pompey’s entire army, in a manner that left the Pompeians neither embittered nor destitute. Caesar promised that he would restore to the men of the Pompeian army the property they had lost when their camp was overrun, although that was not one of his more popular decisions, I can tell you. Further, Caesar ordered that the three Spanish Legions of Pompey’s army, the 4th, 5th, and 6th, whose discharges were due, were to be disbanded, paid their final amounts and be allowed to go home. Not surprisingly, at least to some of us, this also did not sit well with some of our own men, particularly with the 7th, 8th, and the 9th because their time was up as well, enlisting at the same time as the Pompeian Legions. The sentiment was that, since their discharges were up as well and they were on the winning side, the right thing for Caesar to do was to grant them their own discharges. The 10th, on the other hand, still had some time left on our enlistments, meaning it was not an issue for us, but the 9th, in particular, was the most vocal in their grumbling. Caesar chose to send back the Valeria and 3rd Legion to their home territory in Cisalpine Gaul, He decided to send the 7th and 9th with them as an escort, promising the Pompeians that they would be discharged and paid off once they were back in their home territory. The 7th and 9th were ordered to continue marching back to Italia, to report to Marcus Antonius and await Caesar’s orders. Despite this being an unpopular command, at least with the two Legions involved, it was nothing compared to the reaction to his final order, the release and parole of Afranius and Petreius. This act was met with outrage by the army, and I confess that I was just as angry as any man, having lost a number of good men at their hands, not by honorable battle but by treachery. Still, Caesar’s will was to be obeyed in all things, and accordingly we stood in formation and in stony silence watching the two generals and their staffs given their paroles and allowed to leave. It was only a small comfort to us to see the look of fear and apprehension on the faces of both Afranius and Petreius as they rode through our ranks out of the camp. Then it was over, at least this part of it, but only part of the province was ours. There was still the west to subdue, and Caesar now turned his attention to it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Remaining with Caesar was us, the 14th, the 21st and 30
^th
. He took the 21st and 30th with him, along with 600 of his cavalry to confront the remainder of Pompey’s army in Hispania, the 2nd and Indigena. Sending the two Legions one route under the command of Quintus Cassius Longinus, brother of the traitor Gaius Cassius Longinus, Caesar took the cavalry on a separate route, along the way sending word to the towns in the territory to throw out their Pompeian garrisons and surrender to him without any fear of retribution. He ordered an assembly of province officials to meet at Corduba, where the Pompeian commander Varro had decided to make his defense, and to where Varro was now hurrying himself. It became a race to see who would occupy the town first. As usual, Caesar was too quick for Varro, aided by the citizens of the town, who expelled the Pompeian garrison and sent word to Varro that the gates would be shut to him in the event that he arrived before Caesar. The Indigena promptly came over to Caesar, forcing Varro to surrender the 2nd, despite the Legion remaining loyal to Pompey. However, Varro recognized the futility of his plight, and the resistance to Caesar in the rest of the province collapsed without any bloodshed. Caesar acted with his usual liberality in order to assure the loyalty of a region that heretofore had been staunchly for Pompey. He granted citizenship to the native tribes who were not yet invested with such, remitting all the money appropriated by Varro, and returning all of the valuables that Varro had taken for “safekeeping” to the temple of Hercules at Gades. Leaving Longinus behind as governor, with Varro’s two former Legions to garrison the province, Caesar was now free to turn his attention to other more pressing matters. Not everything was to go Caesar’s way, however. We in the army felt vindicated when we learned that Afranius and Petreius had remained true to their oaths only long enough to get out of sight before showing their true colors and throwing back in with Pompey, but not before convincing the men of the 4th and 6th to join them in their flight to join Pompey in Greece.

~ ~ ~ ~

Now that Hispania was pacified, it was time for Caesar to turn his attention back to Massilia. Despite the defeat of the Pompeian fleet, the city itself still held out, so we were given the order to pack up and, leaving the 14th behind, we accompanied Caesar back to the east. Before we left, however, Caesar issued one of his most unpopular orders, recalling the men whose enlistments had expired and been allowed to go home by Fabius, those veterans that had salted our ranks when the 10
^th
Legion had been first formed. This news was met with a huge uproar in the army, because it cast doubt on the status of the men promoted into the empty spots when the original men left the army. The fact that I was not one of them, promoted before the discharges as I was, did not blind me to the plight of the men in that situation. While it was hard for me to share their anger, I did sympathize. On the other hand, I looked forward to seeing Gaius Crastinus return to the Legion, although I was not sure what frame of mind he would be in, or any of the men for that matter. Despite the furor it caused, Caesar would not budge, but he did do his best to see that men were given the opportunity to make a lateral move into other Legions where there were vacancies at the same rank and title that they were forced to relinquish to the returning men. Not everyone could be accommodated, so that men like Cyclops found themselves being in effect demoted because of Caesar’s orders. As men were shuffled from slots in the 10th over to the 14
^th
and the other Legions to make room for Crastinus and the others, Cyclops found himself moved all the way down to the Sixth Century of the Tenth Cohort of the 14th.