and came near to annihilating his army. He had forgotten Hannibal’s
lesson of Lake Trasymene. Nothing but stubborn courage and admirable
discipline--the knowledge, too, that defeat meant massacre--saved the
day. Cæsar headed his legionaries with superb personal gallantry, and
his narrow escape made him thereafter much more cautious on the march.
Out of sixty thousand Nervii, barely five hundred were left when the
battle ended. Their fighting had been heroic beyond words. Their defeat
and the capture of a number of cities induced many tribes to submit to
the inevitable.
The best praise of this splendid campaign is its own success. The
energy, rapidity, clear-sightedness, and skill with which Cæsar
divided, attacked in detail, and overcame the Belgian tribes with their
enormous numbers, is a model for study. But he still committed serious
errors, of which the careless march without proper scouting, which led
to the surprise by the Nervii, was a notable example. He was not yet
master of his art.
During the succeeding winter the Belgæ again banded together, and the
Veneti seized some Roman officers seeking corn (B.C. 56). This act
Cæsar considered in the light of a revolt, and determined summarily
to punish. The Veneti were a maritime people, living in what is now
Brittany, whose strongholds could only be reached by sea. Cæsar’s
attempts to attack them by land proved abortive, but his admiral, with
a fleet built for the occasion, worsted the Venetan squadron, and
Cæsar, with needless cruelty and distinct bad policy, put the Senate
to death and sold the tribe into slavery. Cæsar was personally humane.
These acts of extermination are the less pardonable. His lieutenants,
meanwhile, had subdued a part of Aquitania. All Gaul, save only the
tribes opposite the British coast, had, after a fashion, been reduced.
This third year in Gaul redounds to Cæsar’s credit for the general
scheme; to his lieutenants for the detailed campaigns.
The fourth year (B.C. 55) was tarnished by, perhaps, the most gigantic
piece of cruelty ever charged to the score of civilized man. Two German
tribes, the Usipetes and Tencheteri, had been crowded across the Rhine
by the Suevi, the stoutest nation on the eastern bank. These people
Cæsar proposed to chase back across the river. He marched against them,
and was met by a suit for peace. Cæsar alleges treachery, on their
part, in the negotiations, but his own version in the Commentaries does
not sustain him. During what the barbarians deemed an armistice, Cæsar,
by a rapid and unexpected march, fell upon them, and utterly destroyed
the tribes, men, women, and children, whose number himself states at
four hundred and thirty thousand souls. A few thousands escaped across
the river. So indignant were even many of the citizens of Rome,--his
political opponents, to be sure,--that Cato openly proposed to send
Cæsar’s head to the few survivors in expiation. It is impossible to
overlook, in Cæsar’s military character, these acts of unnecessary
extermination.
Cæsar next made a campaign across the Rhine, for which purpose he
built his celebrated bridge. It was a mere reconnoissance in force, of
no strategic value or result. And the same must be said of his first
expedition to Britain, which shortly followed. This was conducted with
so few precautions, and so little knowledge of what he was actually
about, that Cæsar was indebted to simple fortune that he ever returned
to Gaul.
The second British expedition (B.C. 54), in which he encountered
Casivelaunus, was better prepared and more extensive. But though these
invasions of Britain and Germany show wonderful enterprise, they were
of doubtful wisdom and absolutely no general military utility. Apart
from the fact that they were unwarranted by the laws of nations, they
were not required for the protection of the Province. “Cæsar observed
rather than conquered Britain.”
During the succeeding winter Cæsar quartered his troops unwisely far
apart, from scarcity of corn, and relying on the supposed subjection
of the Gauls. This led to an uprising, the destruction of one legion
and the jeopardizing of several others. The error of thus dispersing
his forces was, to an extent, offset by Cæsar’s prodigious activity and
brilliant courage in retrieving his error and succoring his endangered
legions.
In the sixth campaign (B.C. 53), Cæsar again crossed the Rhine, with no
greater result than added fame, and definitely subdued the tribes along
the western borders of this stream. The work of this year was admirable
in every way. At its expiration Cæsar, as usual, returned to Rome.
During his absence the chiefs of the Gallic tribes determined to make
one more universal uprising, surround the legions, and, cutting Cæsar
off from return, to destroy them. The leader of the movement was
Vercingetorix, a young chief of exceptional ability, to whose standard
flocked numberless warriors (B.C. 52). Notified of this danger, Cæsar
hurried to the Province. He found himself in reality cut off from his
legions, and without troops to fight his way through. He must divert
the attention of Vercingetorix to enable him to reach his army. Raising
a small force in the Province, he headed an expedition across the
Cebenna Mountains, which had never yet been crossed in winter, into
the land of the Arverni, which he devastated. Vercingetorix, astounded
at his daring, marched to the rescue. No sooner had he arrived than
Cæsar, with a small escort of picked cavalry, started for his legions,
and, by riding night and day, faster than even news could travel, kept
ahead of danger and reached them safe and sound. He at once opened a
winter campaign, drew together the nearest of his legions and attacked
Vercingetorix’s allies in his rear, capturing and pillaging town after
town. The whole opening was a splendid piece of daring skill and
brilliantly conceived.
Vercingetorix was by far the most able of Cæsar’s opponents in Gaul.
He saw that in the open he could not match the Romans, and began a
policy of small war and defensive manœuvres similar to what Fabius had
practised against Hannibal. This greatly hampered Cæsar’s movements
by cutting off his supplies. Cæsar took Avaricum; but the siege of
Gergovia, which place he reached by cleverly stealing a passage over
the Elaver, was not fortunate. The Gauls ably defended the town, while
Vercingetorix aptly interfered with the Roman work; and by rousing to
insurrection Cæsar’s allies, the Ædui, in his rear, he compelled the
Romans to raise the siege. This was Cæsar’s sole failure in the Gallic
campaigns. He returned to quell the uprising of the Ædui, on whose
granaries he relied for corn, and was joined by the rest of the legions.
Shortly after this the pressure of the over-eager barbarians on
Vercingetorix forced him to give up his sensible policy of small war.
He attacked Cæsar in the open field, in an effort to cut him off from
the Province, on which Cæsar, having regained his legions, now proposed
to base. As always in such cases, discipline prevailed, and the Gauls
suffered defeat; but Vercingetorix managed to withdraw without the
usual massacre. Cæsar then sat down before Alesia, a town on holding
which the barbarians had placed their last stake. Vercingetorix
occupied it with eighty thousand men. Cæsar had fifty thousand
legionaries, ten thousand Gallic horse, and perhaps ten thousand allies.
This siege is one of the most wonderful of antiquity. It equals
Alexander’s siege of Tyre or Demetrius’ siege of Rhodes. The works
Cæsar erected were marvellous in their extent and intricacy. So strong
were his lines that even an army of relief of a quarter of a million
men added to the garrison, was unable to break them. Alesia fell.
Vercingetorix was surrendered to Cæsar and kept for exhibition in his
triumph. Gaul never again rose _en masse_. By alternate generosity and
severity, Cæsar completely reduced it to the Roman yoke.
This seventh year was a brilliant exhibition of Cæsar’s ability in
engineering, strategy, tactics, logistics. His achievements are
unsurpassed. He had taught the Gauls that they were not the equals of
the Roman legions or nation. Still this courageous people was not
subdued. They could see that although Cæsar was able to beat them
wherever they met, he was not able to be in all places at once. They
determined to essay one more uprising in isolated bodies. But this also
failed, and Cæsar’s eighth and last year (B.C. 51) snuffed out all
opposition.
It was no doubt for the good of Europe that Gaul should be brought
under Roman rule. But it is questionable whether, under the law of
nations, as then understood, Cæsar had the right to conquer Gaul.
His duty was merely to defend the Province. Not so, however, thought
Cæsar. All things bent to his ulterior designs. His cardinal motive was
self. But accepting his theory, his purpose was clean-cut and carried
out with preëminent skill. His errors lie more in his political than
military conduct. Strategetically, his course was sound.
The Province, when to Cæsar fell Gaul as one of the triumvirs, was a
species of salient thrust forward into the midst of the country. West
and north of its boundary, the Rhone, lived allied peoples. From the
mountains on the east danger was threatened by a number of restless
tribes. The advantages of this salient were by no means lost on Cæsar,
nor the central position which it afforded. He utilized it in the same
fashion as Napoleon did Switzerland in 1800. His first war, against
the Helvetii, was intended to and resulted in protecting the right
flank of the salient, an absolute essential to safety in advancing into
north or north-west Gaul. From this point, duly secured, northerly, the
Rhine, and the Jura and Vosegus mountains protected in a marked degree
the right of an advancing army, provided the tribes west of this
river were not unfriendly; and it will be noticed that one of Cæsar’s
early efforts was directed to winning the friendship of these tribes
by generous treatment and effective protection against their German
enemies. When he could not so accomplish his end he resorted to drastic
measures. Cæsar thus advanced his salient along the Mosa as far as the
Sabis, and could then debouch from the western watershed of the Mosa
down the valleys of the Matrona and Axona with perfect safety. For,
besides the friendship of the near-by tribes, he always kept strongly
fortified camps among them. The line of the Axona thus furnished him an
advanced base from which to operate against the Belgæ, and from their
territory, once gained, safely move even so far as Britain, if he but
protected his rear and accumulated provisions. Having subdued the Belgæ
he could turn to the south-west corner of Gaul, against Aquitania.
Cæsar thus exemplified in the fullest degree the advantage in grand
strategy of central lines of operation. And his most serious work was
devoted to establishing this central salient by alliance or conquest.
Once gained, this simplified his operations to isolated campaigns.
There is nothing more noteworthy in all military history than Cæsar’s
broad conception of the Gallic problem, nor more interesting than his
self-education. It is true that a soldier is born, but he has also to
be made; and Cæsar made himself more distinctly than the others. He
began with his native ability alone. He went to school as Cæsar in the
Gallic War. He graduated as one of the six great captains. Cæsar was
always numerically weaker than the enemy, but far stronger in every
other quality, especially in self-confidence and capacity for work.
His legionaries would bear anything, and could do anything. They were
very Yankees for ingenuity. Cæsar did not mix Gallic allies with his
legions, as Alexander or Hannibal mixed natives with their phalanxes.
He employed only native bowmen in addition to his native cavalry. He
worked his army well concentrated. If he divided his forces it was but
for a short time, soon to concentrate again. But he improved every
chance to attack the enemy before he had concentrated. Speed of foot,
with Cæsar, stood in place of numbers. His objective was always well
chosen, and was either the most important point, or more commonly, the
army of the enemy.
It was impossible that during this period of schooling, Cæsar should
not make blunders--grave ones; but all his errors bore fruit, and
raised the tone of both consul and legions. One can see, step by step,
how success and failure each taught its lesson; how native ability came
to the surface; how the man impressed his individuality on whatever he
did; and how intelligence led him to apply whatever he learned to his
future policy. No praise is too high for the conduct or moral qualities
of the army. From Cæsar down, through every grade, military virtue was
pronounced. In organization and discipline, ability to do almost any
work, endurance of danger and trial, toughness and manhood, it was
a model to the rest of Rome. And not only his legionaries, but his
auxiliary troops were imbued with the same spirit,--all breathed not
only devotion to Cæsar, but reflected his own great qualities.
Cæsar had some worthy opponents. Vercingetorix, Ariovistus,
Casivelaunus, were, each in his own way, able leaders. That they were
overcome by Cæsar was to be expected. Disciplined troops well led
cannot but win against barbarians. The end could not be otherwise.
And while the Gallic War does not show Cæsar--as the second Punic War
did Hannibal--opposed to the strongest military machine in existence,
it did show him opposed to generals and troops quite equal to most of
those encountered by Alexander. The Gauls must not be underrated. They
were distinctly superior to most uncivilized nations. Some of their
operations, and all of their fighting, call for genuine admiration.
They contended nobly for their independence. Defeat never permanently
discouraged them. Once put down, they again rose in assertion of their
liberty, so soon as the strong hand was removed. They were in no sense
to be despised, and while Cæsar’s army proved superior to them, yet, in
their motives and hearty coöperation, they were more commendable than
Cæsar pursuing his scheme of conquest.
Anarchy in Rome and his disagreement with Pompey brought about the
Civil War; this immediately succeeded the Gallic. Cæsar was ready for
it. Pompey practically controlled the whole power of Rome. Cæsar had
only his twelve legions. But these were veterans used to victory, and
belonged to him body and soul. He could do with them whatever he chose.
Cæsar was the embodiment of success, and fresh legions were sure to
spring up at his approach. Pompey lived on his past fame; Cæsar, on
to-day’s. Pompey had made no preparation; Cæsar was armed and equipped.
Pompey controlled vast resources, but they were not ready to hand.
What Cæsar had was fit. Moreover, Cæsar was shrewd enough to keep the
apparent legal right upon his side, as well as constantly to approach
Pompey with proposals for peace, which, however, he was no doubt aware
Pompey would not accept.
Pompey was a man of ability, but age, as is not uncommon, had sapped
his power of decision. He began by a fatal mistake. Instead of meeting
Cæsar on his native soil, and fighting there for Rome, he moved to
Greece so soon as Cæsar reached his front, and left the latter to
supplant him in the political and armed control of Italy.
Cæsar was wont to push for his enemy as objective, and one would expect
to see him follow Pompey to Greece, for it is a maxim, and maxims are
common sense, first to attack the most dangerous part of your enemy’s
divided forces. But there were seven Pompeian legions left in Spain,
and fearing that these might fall upon his rear, Cæsar concluded to
turn first toward the peninsula, relying on Pompey’s hebetude to remain
inactive where he stood. He knew his man.
[Illustration: CIVIL WAR]
It had taken but sixty days for Cæsar to make himself master of all
Italy. In six weeks after reaching Spain, by a brilliant series of
manœuvres near Ilerda, in which he utilized every mistake Pompey’s
lieutenants made, and without battle, for he wished to be looked on
as anxious to avoid the spilling of Roman blood, he had neutralized
and disbanded the seven legions. This accomplishment of his object by
manœuvres instead of fighting is one of the very best examples of its
kind in antiquity, and is equal to any of Hannibal’s. Meanwhile, Pompey
had not lifted a hand against him. This was good luck; but was it not
fitting that fortune should attend such foresight, activity, and skill?
Cæsar returned to Italy. He was now ready to follow his enemy across
to Epirus. Pompey controlled the sea with his five hundred vessels.
Cæsar had no fleet, and, curiously enough, had neglected, in the past
few months, to take any steps to create one. And yet he determined to
cross from Brundisium to the coast of Greece by sea. It is odd that he
did not rather march by land, through Illyricum, thus basing himself on
his own province; for a large part of his legions was already on the
Padus. But he chose the other means, and when, with half his force, he
had stolen across, Pompey’s fleet dispersed his returning transports,
and so patrolled the seas that he commanded the Adriatic between the
two halves of Cæsar’s army. This was not clever management. Cæsar
was in grave peril, and simply by his own lack of caution. If Pompey
concentrated he could crush him by mere weight. But, nothing daunted,
Cæsar faced his opponent and for many months skilfully held his own.
Finally, Antonius, with the other half, eluded the Pompeian fleet and
reached the coast, where, by an able series of marches, Cæsar made his
junction with him. He even now had but about half Pompey’s force, but
despite this he continued to push his adversary by superior activity
and intelligence, and actually cooped him up in siege-lines near
Dyrrachium. This extraordinary spectacle of Cæsar bottling up Pompey,
who had twice his force (May, 48), by lines of circumvallation sixteen
miles long, borders on the ridiculous, and well illustrates his moral
superiority. But so bold a proceeding could not last. Combats became
frequent, and grew in importance. The first battle of Dyrrachium was
won by Cæsar. The second proved disastrous, but still Cæsar held on.
The third battle was a decisive defeat for Cæsar, but this great
man’s control over his troops was such that he withdrew them in good
condition and courage, and eluded Pompey’s pursuit. In fact, the defeat
both shamed and encouraged his legionaries. Cæsar’s position and plan
had been so eccentric that it was from the beginning doomed to failure.
It was one of those cases where his enterprise outran his discretion.
Cæsar now moved inland, to gain elbow-room to manœuvre. Pompey
followed, each drawing in his outlying forces. The rival armies finally
faced each other at Pharsalus.
Pompey commanded a force sufficient to hold Cæsar at his mercy. So
certain were his friends of victory that already they saw their chief
at the head of the Roman state, and quarrelled about the honors and
spoils. The cry to be led against Cæsar grew among soldiers and
courtiers alike.
Pompey believed that Cæsar’s troops were not of the best; that he
had few Gallic veterans; that his young soldiers could not stand
adversity; that his own cavalry was superior to Cæsar’s; and that with
the preponderance of numbers there could be no doubt of victory. There
was abundant reason for his belief. But one lame premise lay in his
argument. He forgot that he had Cæsar in his front. The great weakness
in Pompey’s army was the lack of one head, one purpose to control and
direct events.
Cæsar, on the other hand, _was_ his army. The whole body was instinct
with his purpose. From low to high all worked on his own method.
He controlled its every mood and act. He was the main-spring and
balance-wheel alike. And he now felt that he could again rely upon his
legions,--perhaps better than before their late defeat. He proposed to
bring Pompey to battle.
The test soon came. In the battle of Pharsalus (Aug. 48) Pompey was, by
tactical ability on Cæsar’s part and by the disgraceful conduct of his
own cavalry, wholly defeated; fifteen thousand of his army were killed
and twenty-four thousand captured. Pompey himself fled to Egypt, where
he was murdered. In eighteen months from taking up arms, Cæsar had made
himself master of the world by defeating the only man who disputed him
this title.
Cæsar now committed one of those foolhardy acts of which several
mar his reputation for wisdom, and from which only “Cæsar’s luck”
delivered him. He followed Pompey to Egypt with but three thousand men,
and attempted to dictate to the Government. In consequence of this
heedless proceeding, he and this handful--he, the man who disposed of
the forces of the whole world--were beleaguered in Alexandria by an
Egyptian army for eight months, until he could procure the assistance
of allies. He was finally rescued by Mithridates, King of Pergamus, and
the Egyptians were defeated at the battle of the Nile.
The months thus wasted by Cæsar’s lack of caution gave the Pompeian
party a breathing-spell and the opportunity of taking fresh root in
Africa. This was what necessitated the two additional campaigns, one
in Africa and one in Spain. Had Cæsar, immediately after Pharsalus,
turned sharply upon Pompey’s adherents; or had he taken four or five
legions with him to Alexandria; or had he put aside the question of the
rule of Egypt by a temporizing policy, and turned to the more important
questions at hand, he would have saved himself vast future trouble.
The force he carried with him was absurdly inadequate. By extreme good
luck alone was he able to seize the citadel and arsenal, and the tower
on the Pharos, and thus save himself from collapse. “There seems to be
nothing remarkable about the campaign,” says Napoleon. “Egypt might
well have become, but for Cæsar’s wonderful good fortune, the very
grave of his reputation.”
Cæsar was now called against Pharnaces, King of Pontus, who, during the
distractions of the Civil War, was seeking to enlarge his territory.
It was this five days’ campaign (Aug. 47) which led Cæsar to exclaim,
“Veni, Vidi, Vici!” And here again he committed the blunder of opening
a campaign with too small a force, and came within an ace of failure.
Fortune saved Alexander in many acts of rashness; she was called on to
rescue Cæsar from many acts of folly.
Cæsar had barely arrived in Rome when his presence was demanded in
Africa to put down the coalition of Pompey’s lieutenants; and for the
fourth time he was guilty of the same imprudence. In his over-ardor
to reach the scene, he gave indefinite orders to his fleet, and once
more landed on the African coast with but three thousand men in his
immediate command, while the enemy had near at hand quadruple the
force, and along the coast, within two or three days’ march, some fifty
thousand men. But again Cæsar’s audacity stood in stead of legions,
and gradually reënforcements came to hand (Dec. 47). Time fails to
follow up this campaign. Full of all that characterizes the great man
and greater captain, it not only excites our wonder, but puzzles us
by alternate hypercaution and intellectual daring. After a series of
movements extending over four months, during which he made constant
use of field fortifications, much in our own manner, Cæsar absolutely
overthrew the Pompeians (Apr. 46) at Thapsus and dispersed the
coalition to the winds. Only the two sons of Pompey in Spain remained
in arms.
An interesting fact in the campaigns of Cæsar, which cannot but
impress itself on every American soldier, is the handiness of Cæsar’s
legionaries in the use of pick and shovel. These entrenching tools,
quite apart from fortifying the daily camp, seemed to be as important
to the soldiers as their weapons or their shields. They often dug
themselves into victory.