as a soldier, Cæsar had acquired almost equal distinction by his
victory in Gaul, while Crassus, though he had served with credit on
more than one occasion, was distinctly inferior in this respect to his
colleagues. He felt that such an inferiority would tell greatly against
him when the spoils came to be divided. It was to the East that he
looked for the opportunity that he desired. There had been trouble in
the region beyond the Euphrates for some time, and Rome, accused of
having failed to keep her treaty arrangement, was, of course, mixed
up in it. In 55 B.C., the year when Cæsar's command in Gaul had been
renewed for a second period of five years, Crassus was elected Consul,
his colleague being Pompey. The province allotted to him after his year
of office was Syria, and he left Rome before the year was out to take
up his command. He did not meet with anything like universal approval.
The decree which gave him the province of Syria made no mention of
Parthia, but everyone knew that Parthia was to be attacked, and there
was a strong party that, either from prudence or from a sense of right,
was strongly opposed to what was manifestly a war of aggression. One
of the Tribunes of the People attempted to stop his departure from
Rome, actually bidding his attendant detain him by force. This attempt
failing, he took his stand at the gate by which Crassus was to depart,
and on a hastily constructed altar performed some mysterious rite by
which he devoted, under strange and awful curses, the head of Crassus
to destruction. But Crassus persevered; arrived at Brundisium he would
not wait for favourable weather, but at once crossed the sea, not
without suffering a considerable loss in ships. The rest of his journey
he performed by land. When passing through Galatia he was entertained
by the prince of that country, Deiotarus, then a very old man.
Deiotarus was busy building a city, and Crassus jestingly marvelled
that at such an age he should engage in such an undertaking. "And you,"
replied the old man, "who are on your way to Parthia, are not quite in
your youth." Crassus was sixty, and looked, we are told, considerably
older.
His first operations, after his arrival, were fairly successful, but
he did not make a favourable impression. The Euphrates he crossed
without opposition, and he received the submission of some important
towns in Mesopotamia. He was considered, on the other hand, to have
been wanting in dignity when he allowed his soldiers to salute him on
the field as Imperator after the capture of a third-rate fortress--for
this was a compliment that was appropriate only to real achievements.
And in his proceedings generally he seemed to look to the collection
of wealth rather than to military glory. The tokens of ill-fortune to
come were, of course, not wanting. Crassus had been joined by his son,
who had been serving as one of Cæsar's lieutenants in Gaul, and both
paid a visit to a famous temple at Hierapolis. As they were leaving
it the son caught his foot and fell, and the elder man stumbled over
him. The enemy were in no submissive mood. Envoys from the Parthian
king declared that if Crassus was executing the will of the Roman
people the Parthians would avenge the insult to the utmost, but that
if he was only seeking his own private ends they would pardon an old
man's folly and restore unharmed the garrisons who were virtually
their prisoners. Crassus replied that he would give them an answer at
Seleucia, their capital. "Seleucia!" cried the leader of the embassy,
holding up the palm of his hand. "Hair will grow on this before you see
Seleucia." The army soon became seriously discouraged. The Parthians
were evidently a more formidable enemy than they had yet encountered,
very different from the unwarlike races of Western Asia. The reports
of the soothsayers were of the gloomiest kind, and omens of coming
disasters were frequent. The spot selected for a camp was twice struck
by lightning; when the rations were distributed the articles first
given out were lentils and salt, the two chief articles in the meals
served for the spirits of the dead. Worst of all, the eagle-standard of
the legion that was the first to advance was seen to turn away from
the enemy's country.
Crassus had under his command no contemptible force--seven legions,
4,000 cavalry, and an equal number of light-armed troops. The first
reports that reached him represented the enemy as shrinking from
the contest. This notion was confirmed by an Arab chief, Abgarus of
Edessa, who was believed to be friendly to Rome. He had certainly done
good service to Pompey, but he was now acting in the interest of the
Parthian king. He urged on Crassus an immediate advance; the enemy,
he declared, were already removing their most valuable property to a
place of safety. This was all false. The Parthian king with half his
army was ravaging Armenia; his commander-in-chief had been detached
with the other half to deal with Crassus. The Romans moved forward with
all the haste that they could compass. Day after day they advanced,
but no enemy could be seen. At last some horsemen were descried in the
distance, and Abgarus was sent on in advance to reconnoitre. He did
not return, and the army again moved forwards. Their march brought
them to a river called the Balissen. Crassus was advised by his staff
to halt and encamp. He was too impatient to listen to this counsel,
and still advanced. It was not long before he came in sight of the
enemy. At first sight the Parthian host did not seem very formidable.
It did not display any of the pomp and circumstance of war, and its
numbers had been carefully concealed. Then by a sudden movement the
banners of glistening silk embroidered with gold were displayed, and
the helmets and coats of mail glittered in the sun, the drums giving
out all the time a terrific volume of sound. Never before had the
Romans encountered a similar enemy. It was a host of cavalry which they
had to meet, most of them archers, both man and horse being protected
with armour made sometimes of iron, sometimes of leather. The Romans
were taken at a terrible disadvantage. All their tactics, especially
the close order in which they were accustomed to fight, told against
them, whilst their light-armed troops were hopelessly outnumbered. The
younger Crassus was sent forward by his father with a picked force,
in the hope that he might relieve the legions of the brunt of the
attack. The enemy retreated before him, but when they had lured him
on out of sight or reach of the main army they turned upon him. He
had no choice, so overwhelming were their numbers, but to fall back
before them. He made a stand at a hill, on the sloping side of which
he ranged what troops remained to him. But the ranks rising one above
another offered a broader target to the Parthian archers. Nearly the
whole force perished, Crassus and his officers by their own hands.
Five hundred were taken prisoners; none escaped. The first knowledge
that the elder Crassus had of his son's fate was the sight of his head
on a pole. The attack upon the legions was renewed again and again
until darkness brought a temporary relief. During the night the Romans
retreated, and reached Carrhæ in safety. But even then their troubles
were not ended. Crassus either would not or could not stay at Carrhæ,
and set out in the hope of reaching the friendly country of Armenia.
He was overtaken, and consented to hold a conference with the Parthian
commander to discuss the terms of an armistice. It is not clear whether
the Parthians intended treachery; anyhow the Romans suspected it. A
fierce quarrel ensued; the Roman officers were killed, and Crassus put
an end to his own life. Of the army many were taken prisoners, and a
few contrived to escape. But as a force it ceased to exist.
[Illustration: Crassus defeated by the Parthians.]
The battle of Carrhæ, as it may be called, though it happened at some
distance from that town, was one of the worst disasters in Roman
history. What especially touched the pride of the Empire was the
submission of the numerous prisoners to their fate. Horace inveighs
against the cowardice of the men who were content to forget all the
glorious associations of Rome and to become the subjects of a barbarian
king. He seeks to console himself by telling how the standards captured
from the army of Crassus were torn down from the Parthian temples by
the victorious Augustus. What really happened was that these trophies
were given up under the conditions of a peace made between Parthia and
Rome. There was more than one struggle between the two powers, and
the superiority of Roman arms was vindicated more than once. Parthia,
also, had its triumphs. One Roman Emperor, Valerian, ended his days in
Parthian captivity. When the Empire fell in the third century of our
era it was by a rebellion among its own subjects.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 37: Nearly £5,000,000, taking the talent at £240.]
[Footnote 38: "If these men come as ambassadors," Tigranes is reported
to have said, "there are too many of them; if they are an army there
are certainly too few." But he was not the first to use the witticism.]
[Footnote 39: Mommsen speaks of it as the _Second_, the First being a
coalition of the same persons ten years before. It is as well to remark
that the coalition had no legal existence. It was an informal agreement
between the three most powerful citizens to act together. The _Second_
Triumvirate, in 43 B.C., was a regularly constituted body.]
VI
THE CONQUESTS OF CÆSAR
The second great European conquest made by Rome outside the borders
of Italy was Gaul. The beginning of this conquest, which was spread
over about a century, the last ten years, however, being by far the
most productive of result, belongs to the year 152 B.C. The people
of Massilia (Marseilles) begged the help of the Romans against two
tribes of Gaul who were attacking dependencies of theirs. Much the same
thing happened again some twenty years later. The end of this and of
other affairs which it is not necessary to describe in detail was the
establishment in 121 B.C. of what was called the _Provincia_ (a name
still preserved in the modern Provence). Two colonies were founded in
this region, one at Aquæ Sextiæ (_Aix_), the other at Narbo Marcius
(_Narbonne_). The _Provincia_ occupied the valley of the Rhone, and
reached westward as far as the Garonne.
I pass on at once to the story of how the whole of the country from the
Mediterranean to the North Sea and from the Atlantic to the Rhine was
incorporated in the Empire of Rome.
In 59 B.C. Julius Cæsar was appointed to the government of Gaul (on
both sides of the Alps) and Illyria. In the April of the next year he
proceeded to take up his command. The first important operation which
he undertook shows plainly enough how great a change had taken place in
the relation between Rome and his barbarian neighbours of the north.
The Helvetii, of whom we have heard in connection with the story of the
Cimbri and Teutones, were in a restless condition. Their land (which
we may roughly describe as the non-mountainous part of Switzerland
and adjacent districts of France) was too narrow for them, and they
resolved to look for another more fertile and more spacious. A hundred
or even fifty years before they would certainly have moved southward,
as kindred tribes had done under the First and the Second Brennus. But
Italy no longer tempted them. It was as attractive as ever, but the
way was too perilous. Accordingly, the migration of the Helvetii was
northward. Cæsar saw his opportunity. The Helvetii would have to pass
through a corner of the Provincia, and they sent envoys asking his
leave. Cæsar did not directly refuse their request, the truth being
that he had not troops enough to stop them, if they were minded to
force a passage. He put them off. He would give an answer shortly. When
they came again his soldiers were ready and therefore his answer also.
They must not go. The Helvetii then chose another way, but Cæsar is
determined that they shall not go at all. They went, indeed, burning
everything that they could not carry with them, but Cæsar pursued
and overtook them. The battle that followed was long and fierce. It
lasted from one o'clock in the afternoon to evening, and for all these
hours no Roman saw the back of a foe. A barricade had been made of the
waggons, and this was obstinately defended. At last the camp was taken,
but as many as 130,000 men made their escape. They had three days'
start, for Cæsar had to stay where he was so long, providing for the
treatment of his wounded, and for the burial of his dead. But though
the fugitives marched without resting day or night they could not get
out of their enemy's reach. Couriers were sent on, warning the tribes
through whose territories they were to pass not to supply the Helvetii
with food. To do so would be to incur the same penalty. This prompt and
stern action had its immediate effect. The fugitives halted and sent
back envoys begging for peace. Cæsar granted their request, but they
were to give hostages, and to surrender their arms and all runaways
and deserters. The men of one canton attempted to escape eastward,
hoping that their flight might not be observed till it was too late to
overtake them. But Cæsar observed everything; the unhappy men--there
were six thousand of them--were brought back and slaughtered. The rest
were admitted to quarter. They were compelled, however, to go back
to their deserted country. Their neighbours, the Allobroges, were
instructed to feed them till they could grow food for themselves, and
they had to build again the houses which they had destroyed. Cæsar
tells the story with a passionless accuracy. He shows neither anger nor
pity. But the bare numbers which he gives are eloquent enough. There
were 368,000 emigrants; 110,000 returned. More than two-thirds--men,
women, and children--had perished. Anyhow, they could no longer
complain that the land was too narrow for them. But the spirit of
unrest had reached to other tribes beside the Helvetii. The Germans
from the eastern side of the Rhine had made their way into Gaul, under
the command of their King Ariovistus. They had been invited to come
by one tribe of Gauls to help them against another, but had soon made
themselves odious both to friends and to foes. The particular tribe
which had called them in had given up to them one-third of its land,
and was now called upon to surrender another. Cæsar was called upon
to help. The invitation was just what he wanted. To be the champion
of Gaul was the first step towards being its master. Accordingly he
informed the German king that he must let the friends of the Roman
people alone. Ariovistus's answer was a defiance, and Cæsar's rejoinder
was a rapid march eastwards. There was no time to be lost. Other tribes
from beyond the Rhine were said to be on the move. Were these to join
the first-comers, it would be a very formidable combination. Seven
days' marching brought the Romans within twenty-four miles' distance
of the enemy. There were negotiations which came to nothing, various
strategic movements, with a cavalry skirmish now and then. Finally
Cæsar made an attack on the German host, and drove it before him to
the Rhine. It suffered heavily in the flight. Ariovistus escaped, but
he took very few of his Germans back with him.
In the following year (57 B.C.) Cæsar was engaged with the Belgæ in
North-eastern Gaul. (Gaul must always be conceived of as the whole
country to the westward of the Rhine.) He fought and won a great battle
on the Aisne, falling on the enemy while they were endeavouring to
cross the river, and inflicting a heavy loss on them. "They tried,"
says Cæsar, "in the most daring way to pass on the dead bodies of their
own comrades." As he never puts anything in for the sake of effect, we
may rely on the absolute truth of this gruesome picture. This victory
was not easily won; a harder piece of work was the conflict with the
Nervii that shortly followed. The Nervii occupied the country now known
as Belgium, and had a high reputation for valour and for simplicity,
not to say savagery, of life. They would not allow the importation
of wine or any other foreign luxuries, and they were firmly resolved
not to have any dealings with Cæsar. Their kinsmen and neighbours who
had consented to treat with the Romans, had behaved, they considered,
with much baseness and cowardice. The great battle was fought on the
Sambre, and seems to have been, at one time, the most critical thing
that Cæsar was ever engaged in.
Cæsar had been marching with his legions--he had eight in his
force--each followed by its own baggage, and so far, therefore,
separated from each other. The Nervii had been informed of this
arrangement by some well-wishers in Cæsar's train, and had been advised
to deliver their attack on the foremost legion as soon as the baggage
came in sight. But the Roman general, who probably knew this, as great
commanders have a way of knowing everything, altered his order on the
way. First came the cavalry, then six legions together, all in light
marching order, then the baggage, and bringing up the rear two newly
levied legions. When the baggage came in sight the Nervii saw, as they
thought, their opportunity. As a matter of fact, they had been waiting
too long. They had to deal with six legions, not, as they expected,
with one. Even then their onslaught came perilously near to a success.
Emerging unexpectedly from the woods in which they had been lying hid,
they drove before the Roman cavalry, and were engaged in hand-to-hand
fight with the legions almost before these knew what had happened.
It was almost a surprise. "Cæsar," so he writes of himself, "had
everything to do at once--to hoist the red flag that was the signal for
battle, give the trumpet call, summon back to their places in the ranks
the men who were collecting materials for the rampart, draw up the
line, and address the troops." The enemy had been unexpectedly quick in
their attack. On the other hand, the army was in thoroughly good order;
every man knew what he had to do. But the time was very short. The men
could not even don their helmets or get their shields out of their
covers before the enemy was upon them. The tribesmen in alliance with
the Nervii could not hold their own against the Romans, but the Nervii
themselves for a time carried everything before them, breaking through
the two legions that confronted them, and actually taking possession of
the Roman camp. The camp followers fled in dismay, and were followed by
some of the light-armed troops. Even a contingent of cavalry sent by
the Treveri rode off the field, and carried with them the report that
the day was lost. As the Treveri had a high reputation for courage,
their flight was of the very worst omen.
At this critical moment Cæsar personally intervened, and restored the
fortunes of the day. He seized a shield, addressed himself to the
centurions, whose names, again after the fashion of the great general,
he knew, and turned the tide of battle. Cæsar did not show himself so
frequently in the front as was the habit of Alexander, but he could do
it on occasion with the happiest effect. At the same time the officer
in command of the tenth legion (Cæsar's _corps d'élite_, as we may call
it), who had made a successful attack on the enemy's position, brought
back that force to the help of his chief. The Nervii still resisted
with the greatest courage. But the day was lost, and few of the tribe,
so far, at least, as it had taken part in the battle, were left alive.
An episode of the campaign is worth relating, though it had little
or no effect on the general result. The force left by the Cimbri and
Teutones to guard their spoil had after various wanderings found their
way into this region. They asked and obtained terms from Cæsar, tried
to outwit, and were, by way of punishment, sold as slaves.
The third campaign was carried on in Western Gaul, among the Veneti,
represented by the Bretons of to-day. Cæsar had made a requisition
on them for corn, of which, as they were a seafaring people, they had
probably little to spare. They refused the demand, which, indeed, he
had no right but that of superior force to make, and even detained his
envoys, whom they probably considered, and not without good reason,
to be spies. Cæsar found that he wanted ships if he were to deal
successfully with the Veneti. Accordingly he had a fleet built on the
Loire, and manned with a levy raised in the neighbourhood. It was the
First Punic War over again. The tribes of the western coast were beaten
on their own element. As they had been guilty of what Cæsar chose to
consider a great offence, an insult to ambassadors, he determined to
punish them with unusual severity. Their chiefs were put to death; the
rest of the population sold into slavery. A general surrender of the
western tribes took place. Meanwhile one of the great man's lieutenants
subdued the region between the Pyrenees and the Garonne (to the west,
therefore, of the _Provincia_), and Cæsar himself spent what remained
of the year in reducing some tribes in the north-east.
In the following year (B.C. 55) Northern Gaul was disturbed by
another great movement of population. Two German tribes, themselves
dispossessed by the overpowering strength of the Suebi, a great
confederation of kindred tribes from Eastern Germany, crossed the
Rhine, and quartered themselves on the Menapii, a people which
inhabited the left bank of the lower Rhine. Cæsar was well aware
that the ill-affected Gauls would soon make common cause with the
new-comers, and determined to be beforehand with his enemies of either
race. He marched with great promptitude against them, not allowing
himself to be put off by the negotiations which they desired or
pretended to open with him. Before long a treacherous attack, made by
the German horsemen on Cæsar's cavalry--chiefly composed, it would
seem, of native levies--gave him an excellent justification for acting.
He attacked the enemy, and drove them in headlong flight to the river.
Many were slain in the fight and the pursuit, more were drowned in the
river; the result was the almost entire destruction of the invading
host. Nor did this satisfy him. He determined to make a demonstration
of his strength in Germany itself. To do this he had to transport his
army across the Rhine. To carry them over in boats did not, as he puts
it, suit the dignity of the Roman people. Possibly he thought it
unsafe. Accordingly he built a bridge, a marvel of engineering skill,
when we consider the breadth, depth, and force of the river to be
spanned, and the short supply of tools and materials at hand. The work
was complete in ten days; eighteen days more were spent in Germany.
And Cæsar then came back, having certainly impressed the tribes beyond
the Rhine with a great idea of his resources. Late in this year Cæsar
made his first expedition to Britain. Of this and of the more serious
invasion of the following year I shall have to speak elsewhere.
The year 54 B.C. was a very critical time. Cæsar evidently had
overrated the result of his successes, a pardonable error, so rapid and
apparently so complete had they been. A feeling of false security had
suggested the somewhat romantic expedition to Britain, an expedition
which he certainly would not have made if he had been aware of the
real state of affairs in Gaul. He supposed that the country had been
finally subdued--"pacified" or "quieted" was the Roman euphemism--but
he was rudely undeceived. Fortunately for him he was in Gaul when
the formidable rising, which he had soon to crush, took place. If he
had been still in Britain, or if, as had been his intention, he had
started for the south, the consequences might have been more serious
than they were.