[Sidenote: B.C. 56.] While Caesar was struggling with the Senate for
leave to complete the conquest of Gaul, fresh work was preparing for
him there. Young Publius Crassus, before he went to Italy, had wintered
with the seventh legion in Brittany. The Breton tribes had nominally
made their submission, and Crassus had desired them to supply his
commissariat. They had given hostages for their good behavior, and most
of them were ready to obey. The Veneti, the most important of the coast
clans, refused. They induced the rest to join them. They seized the
Roman officers whom Crassus had sent among them, and they then offered
to exchange their prisoners for their countrymen whom the Romans held
in pledge. The legions might be irresistible on land; but the Veneti
believed that their position was impregnable to an attack on the land
side. Their homes were on the Bay of Quiberon and on the creeks and
estuaries between the mouth of the Loire and Brest. Their villages were
built on promontories, cut off at high tide from the mainland,
approachable only by water, and not by water except in shallow vessels
of small draught which could be grounded safely on the mud. The
population were sailors and fishermen. They were ingenious and
industrious, and they carried on a considerable trade in the Bay of
Biscay and in the British Channel. They had ships capable of facing the
heavy seas which rolled in from the Atlantic, flat-bottomed, with high
bow and stern, built solidly of oak, with timbers a foot thick,
fastened with large iron nails. They had iron chains for cables. Their
sails--either because sailcloth was scarce, or because they thought
canvas too weak for the strain of the winter storms--were manufactured
out of leather. Such vessels were unwieldy, but had been found
available for voyages even to Britain. Their crews were accustomed to
handle them, and knew all the rocks and shoals and currents of the
intricate and difficult harbors. They looked on the Romans as mere
landsmen, and naturally enough they supposed that they had as little to
fear from an attack by water as from the shore. At the worst they could
take to their ships and find a refuge in the islands.
Crassus, when he went to Rome, carried the report to Caesar of the
revolt of the Veneti, and Caesar felt that unless they were promptly
punished, all Gaul might be again in flame. They had broken faith. They
had imprisoned Roman officers who had gone on a peaceful mission among
them. It was necessary to teach a people so restless, so hardly
conquered, and so impatient of foreign dominion, that there was no
situation which the Roman arm was unable to reach.
While the Lucca conference was going on, a fleet of Roman galleys was
built by his order in the Loire. Rowers, seamen, and pilots were
brought across from Marseilles. When the season was sufficiently
advanced for active operations, Caesar came himself and rejoined his
army. Titus Labienus was sent with three legions to Trèves to check the
Germans on the Rhine, and prevent disturbances among the Belgae.
Titurius Sabinus, with three more, was stationed in Normandy. To
Brittany Caesar went in person to reduce the rebellious Veneti. The
weather was too unsettled for his fleet to be able as yet to join him.
Without its help he found the problem as difficult as the Veneti
expected. Each village required a siege; when it was reduced, the
inhabitants took to their boats, and defied him again in a new
position. Many weeks were thus fruitlessly wasted. The fine weather at
length set in. The galleys from the Loire came out, accompanied by
others from Rochelle and the mouth of the Garonne. The command at sea
was given to Decimus Brutus, a cousin of the afterward famous Marcus, a
clever, able, and so far loyal officer.
The Veneti had collected every ship that they or their allies possessed
to defend themselves. They had 220 sail in all--a force, considering
its character, extremely formidable. Their vessels were too strong to
be run down. The galleys carried turrets; but the bows and sterns of
the Veneti were still too lofty to be reached effectively by the Roman
javelins. The Romans had the advantage in speed; but that was all. They
too, however, had their ingenuities. They had studied the construction
of the Breton ships. They had provided sickles with long handles, with
which they proposed to catch the halyards which held the weight of the
heavy leather sails. It was not difficult to do, if, as is probable,
the halyards were made fast, not to the mast, but to the gunwale.
Sweeping rapidly alongside they could easily cut them; the sails would
fall, and the vessels would be unmanageable.
A sea battle of this singular kind was thus fought off the eastern
promontory of the Bay of Quiberon, Caesar and his army looking on from
the shore. The sickles answered well; ship after ship was disabled; the
galleys closed with them, and they were taken by boarding. The Veneti
then tried to retreat; but a calm came on, and they could not move. The
fight lasted from ten in the morning till sunset, when the entire
Breton fleet was taken or sunk.
After this defeat the Veneti gave up the struggle. Their ships were all
gone. Their best men were on board, and had been killed. They had no
power of resistance left. Caesar was constitutionally lenient, and
admired rather than resented a valiant fight for freedom. But the
Veneti had been treacherous. They had laid hands on the sacred persons
of Roman ambassadors, and he considered it expedient on this one
occasion to use severity. The council who had contrived the
insurrection were put to death. The rest of the tribe were treated as
the Aduatuci had been, and were sold into slavery.
Sabinus, meanwhile, had been in difficulties in Normandy. The people
there had risen and killed their chiefs, who tried to keep them quiet;
vagabonds from other parts had joined them, and Sabinus, who wanted
enterprise, allowed the disturbances to become dangerous. He ended them
at last, however, successfully, and Caesar would not allow his caution
to be blamed. During the same months, Publius Crassus had made a
brilliant campaign in Aquitaine. The Aquitani had not long before
overthrown two Roman armies. Determined not to submit to Caesar, they
had allied themselves with the Spaniards of the Pyrenees, and had
officers among them who had been trained by Sertorius. Crassus stormed
their camp with a skill and courage which called out Caesar's highest
approbation, and completely subdued the whole country.
In all France there now remained only a few unimportant tribes on the
coast between Calais and the Scheldt which had not formally submitted.
The summer being nearly over, Caesar contented himself with a hasty
survey of their frontier. The weather broke up earlier than usual, and
the troops were redistributed in their quarters. Again there had been a
year of unbroken success. The Romans were masters of Gaul, and the
admirable care of their commander had preserved the numbers in his
legions almost undiminished. The smallness of the loss with which all
these wonders were accomplished is perhaps the most extraordinary
feature of the story. Not till a year later is there any notice of
fresh recruits being brought from Italy.
The winter which followed brought with it another of the dangerous
waves of German immigration. The powerful Suevi, a nation of warriors
who cultivated no lands, who wore no clothes but a deer or sheep skin,
who lived by hunting and pasture, despised the restraints of stationary
life, and roved at pleasure into their neighbors' territories, were
pressing on the weaker tribes and forcing them down into the Low
Countries. The Belgians, hoping for their help against the Romans, had
invited these tribes over the Rhine; and, untaught by the fate of
Ariovistus, they were crossing over and collecting in enormous numbers
above the junction of the Rhine and the Meuse. Into a half-peopled
country, large portions of which are lying waste, it might be barbarous
to forbid an immigration of harmless and persecuted strangers; but if
these Germans were persecuted, they were certainly not harmless; they
had come at the instance of the party in Gaul which was determined to
resist the Roman conquest, and unless the conquest was to be abandoned,
necessity required that the immigration must be prohibited. When the
advance of spring allowed the troops to move, Caesar called a council
of Gallic chiefs. He said nothing of the information which had reached
him respecting their correspondence with these new invaders, but with
his usual swiftness of decision he made up his mind to act without
waiting for disaffection to show itself. He advanced at once to the
Ardennes, where he was met by envoys from the German camp. They said
that they had been expelled from their country, and had come to Gaul in
search of a home; they did not wish to quarrel with the Romans; if
Caesar would protect them and give them lands, they promised to be
useful to him; if he refused their alliance, they declared that they
would defend themselves. They had fled before the Sueves, for the
Sueves were the first nation in the world; the immortal gods were not a
match for the Sueves; but they were afraid of no one else, and Caesar
might choose whether he would have them for friends or foes.
Caesar replied that they must not stay in Gaul. There were no
unoccupied lands in Gaul which could receive so vast a multitude. The
Ubii[1] on their own side of the Rhine were allies of the Romans; the
Ubii, he was willing to undertake, would provide for them; meanwhile
they must go back; he would listen to no other conditions. The envoys
departed with their answer, begging Caesar to advance no farther till
he had again heard from them. This could not be granted. The interval
would be employed in communicating with the Gauls. Caesar pushed on,
crossed the Meuse at Maestricht, and descended the river to Venloo,
where he was but twelve miles distant from the German head-quarters.
Again messengers came, asking for time--time, at least, till they could
learn whether the Ubii would receive them. If the Ubii were favorable,
they said that they were ready to go; but they could not decide without
a knowledge of what was to become of them. They asked for a respite, if
only for three days.
Three days meant only leisure to collect their scattered detachments,
that they might make a better fight. Caesar gave them twenty-four hours.
The two armies were so near that their front lines were in sight of
each other. Caesar had given orders to his officers not to meddle with
the Germans. But the Germans, being undisciplined and hot-blooded, were
less easy to be restrained. A large body of them flung themselves on
the Roman advanced guard, and drove it in with considerable loss;
seventy-four Roman knights fell, and two Aquitanian noblemen, brothers,
serving under Caesar, were killed in defending each other.
Caesar was not sorry for an excuse to refuse further parley. The
Germans were now scattered. In a day or two they would be united again.
He knew the effect which would be produced on the restless minds of the
Gauls by the news of a reverse however slight; and if he delayed
longer, he feared that the country might be on fire in his rear. On the
morning which followed the first action, the principal German chiefs
appeared to apologize and to ask for a truce. They had come in of their
own accord. They had not applied for a safe conduct, and war had been
begun by their own people. They were detained as prisoners; and,
marching rapidly over the short space which divided the camps, Caesar
flung himself on the unfortunate people when they were entirely
unprepared for the attack. Their chiefs were gone. They were lying
about in confusion beside their wagons, women and children dispersed
among the men; hundreds of thousands of human creatures, ignorant where
to turn for orders, and uncertain whether to fight or fly. In this
condition the legions burst in on them, furious at what they called the
treachery of the previous day, and merciless in their vengeance. The
poor Germans stood bravely defending themselves as they could; but the
sight of their women flying in shrieking crowds, pursued by the Roman
horse, was too much for them, and the whole host were soon rushing in
despairing wreck down the narrowing isthmus between the Meuse and the
Rhine. They came to the junction at last, and then they could go no
further. Multitudes were slaughtered; multitudes threw themselves into
the water and were drowned. Caesar, who was not given to exaggeration,
says that their original number was 430,000. The only survivors, of
whom any clear record remains, were the detachments who were absent
from the battle, and the few chiefs who had come into Caesar's camp and
continued with him at their own request from fear of being murdered by
the Gauls.
This affair was much spoken of at the time, as well it might be.
Questions were raised upon it in the Senate. Cato insisted that Caesar
had massacred a defenceless people in a time of truce, that he had
broken the law of nations, and that he ought to be given up to the
Germans. The sweeping off the earth in such a manner of a quarter of a
million human creatures, even in those unscrupulous times, could not be
heard of without a shudder. The irritation in the Senate can hardly be
taken as disinterested. Men who had intrigued with Ariovistus for
Caesar's destruction, needed not to be credited with feelings of pure
humanity when they made the most of the opportunity. But an opportunity
had undoubtedly been offered them. The rights of war have their limits.
No living man in ordinary circumstances recognized those limits more
than Caesar did. No commander was more habitually merciful in victory.
In this case the limits had been ruthlessly exceeded. The Germans were
not indeed defending their own country; they were the invaders of
another; but they were a fine brave race, overtaken by fate when doing
no more than their forefathers had done for unknown generations. The
excuse for their extermination was simply this: that Caesar had
undertaken the conquest of Gaul for the defence of Italy. A powerful
party among the Gauls themselves were content to be annexed to the
Roman Empire. The patriots looked to the Germans to help them in
driving out the Romans. The Germanizing of Gaul would lead with
certainty to fresh invasions of Italy; and it seemed permissible, and
even necessary, to put a stop to these immigrations once for all, and
to show Gauls and Germans equally that they were not to be.
It was not enough to have driven the Germans out of Gaul. Caesar
respected their character. He admired their abstinence from wine, their
courage, their frugal habits, and their pure morality. But their
virtues made them only more dangerous; and he desired to show them that
the Roman arm was long and could reach them even in their own homes.
Parties of the late invaders had returned over the Rhine, and were
protected by the Sigambri in Westphalia. Caesar had demanded their
surrender, and the Sigambri had answered that Roman authority did not
reach across the river; if Caesar forbade Germans to cross into Gaul,
the Germans would not allow the Romans to dictate to them in their own
country. The Ubii were growing anxious. They were threatened by the
Sueves for deserting the national cause. They begged Caesar to show
himself among them, though his stay might be but short, as a proof that
he had power and will to protect them; and they offered him boats and
barges to carry his army over. Caesar decided to go, but to go with
more ostentation. The object was to impress the German imagination; and
boats and barges which might not always be obtainable would, if they
seemed essential, diminish the effect. The legions were skilled
workmen, able to turn their hand to anything. He determined to make a
bridge, and he chose Bonn for the site of it. The river was broad,
deep, and rapid. The materials were still standing in the forest; yet
in ten days from the first stroke that was delivered by an axe, a
bridge had been made standing firmly on rows of piles with a road over
it forty feet wide. A strong guard was left at each end. Caesar marched
across with the legions, and from all sides deputations from the
astonished people poured in to beg for peace. The Sigambri had fled to
their woods. The Suevi fell back into the Thuringian forests. He burnt
the villages of the Sigambri, to leave the print of his presence. He
paid the Ubii a long visit; and after remaining eighteen days beyond
the river, he considered that his purpose had been gained, and he
returned to Gaul, destroying the bridge behind him.
It was now about the beginning of August. A few weeks only of possible
fine weather remained. Gaul was quiet, not a tribe was stirring. The
people were stunned by Caesar's extraordinary performances. West of the
channel which washed the shores of the Belgae lay an island where the
enemies of Rome had found shelter, and from which help had been sent to
the rebellious Bretons. Caesar, the most skilful and prudent of
generals, was yet adventurous as a knight-errant. There was still time
for a short expedition into Britain. As yet nothing was known of that
country, save the white cliffs which could be seen from Calais; Roman
merchants occasionally touched there, but they had never ventured into
the interior; they could give no information as to the size of the
island, the qualities of the harbors, the character or habits of the
inhabitants. Complete ignorance of such near neighbors was undesirable
and inconvenient; and Caesar wished to look at them with his own eyes.
The fleet which had been used in the war with the Veneti was sent round
into the channel. He directed Caius Volusenus, an officer whom he could
trust, to take a galley and make a survey of the opposite coast, and he
himself followed to Boulogne, where his vessels were waiting for him.
The gathering of the flotilla and its object had been reported to
Britain, and envoys from various tribes were waiting there with offers
of hostages and humble protestations. Caesar received them graciously,
and sent back with them a Gaul, named Commius, whom he had made chief
of the Atrebates, to tell the people that he was coming over as a
friend, and that they had nothing to fear.
Volusenus returned after five days' absence, having been unable to
gather anything of importance. The ships which had come in were able
only to take across two legions, probably at less than their full
complement--or at most ten thousand men; but for Caesar's present
purpose these were sufficient. Leaving Sabinus and Cotta in charge of
the rest of the army, he sailed on a calm evening, and was off Dover in
the morning. The cliffs were lined with painted warriors, and hung so
close over the water that if he attempted to land there stones and
lances could reach the boats from the edge of the precipice. He called
his officers about him while his fleet collected, and said a few
encouraging words to them; he then moved up the coast with the tide,
apparently as far as Walmer or Deal. Here the beach was open and the
water deep near the land. The Britons had followed by the brow of the
cliff, scrambling along with their cars and horses. The shore was
covered with them, and they evidently meant to fight. The transports
anchored where the water was still up to the men's shoulders. They were
encumbered with their arms, and did not like the look of what was
before them. Seeing them hesitate, Caesar sent his armed galleys filled
with archers and crossbow-men to clear the approach; and as the
legionaries still hesitated, an officer who carried the eagle of the
10th leapt into the sea and bade his comrades follow if they wished to
save their standard. They sprang overboard with a general cheer. The
Britons rode their horses into the waves to meet them; and for a few
minutes the Romans could make no progress. Boats came to their help,
which kept back the most active of their opponents, and once on land
they were in their own element. The Britons galloped off, and Caesar
had no cavalry.
A camp was then formed. Some of the ships were left at anchor, others
were brought on shore, and were hauled up to the usual high-water mark.
Commius came in with deputations, and peace was satisfactorily
arranged. All went well till the fourth day, when the full moon brought
the spring tide, of which the Romans had no experience and had not
provided for it. Heavy weather came up along with it. The galleys on
the beach were floated off; the transports at anchor parted their
cables; some were driven on shore, some out into the channel. Caesar
was in real anxiety. He had no means of procuring a second fleet. He
had made no preparations for wintering in Britain. The legions had come
light, without tents or baggage, as he meant to stay no longer than he
had done in Germany, two or three weeks at most. Skill and energy
repaired the damage. The vessels which had gone astray were recovered.
Those which were least injured were repaired with the materials of the
rest. Twelve only were lost, the others were made seaworthy.
The Britons, as Caesar expected, had taken heart at the disaster. They
broke their agreement, and fell upon his outposts. Seeing the small
number of Romans, they collected in force, in the hope that if they
could destroy the first comers no more such unwelcome visitors would
ever arrive to trouble them. A sharp action taught them their mistake;
and after many of the poor creatures had been killed, they brought in
hostages, and again begged for peace. The equinox was now coming on.
The weather was again threatening. Postponing, therefore, further
inquiries into the nature of the British and their country, Caesar used
the first favorable opportunity, and returned, without further
adventure, to Boulogne. The legions were distributed among the Belgae;
and Caesar himself, who could have no rest, hastened over the Alps, to
deal with other disturbances which had broken out in Illyria.
[Sidenote: B.C. 54.] The bridge over the Rhine and the invasion of a
country so remote that it was scarcely believed to exist, roused the
enthusiasm at Rome beyond the point which it had hitherto reached. The
Roman populace was accustomed to victories, but these were portents
like the achievements of the old demigods. The humbled Senate voted
twenty days of thanksgiving; and faction, controlled by Pompey, was
obliged to be silent.
The Illyrian troubles were composed without fighting, and the interval
of winter was spent in preparations for a renewal of the expedition
into Britain on a larger scale. Orders had been left with the officers
in command to prepare as many transports as the time would allow,
broader and lower in the side for greater convenience in loading and
unloading. In April, Caesar returned. He visited the different
stations, and he found that his expert legionaries, working
incessantly, had built six hundred transports and twenty-eight armed
galleys. All these were finished and ready to be launched. He directed
that they should collect at Boulogne as before; and in the interval he
paid a visit to the north of Gaul, where there were rumors of fresh
correspondence with the Germans. Danger, if danger there was, was
threatened by the Treveri, a powerful tribe still unbroken on the
Moselle. Caesar, however, had contrived to attach the leading chiefs to
the Roman interest. He found nothing to alarm him, and once more went
down to the sea. In his first venture he had been embarrassed by want
of cavalry. He was by this time personally acquainted with the most
influential of the Gallic nobles. He had requested them to attend him
into Britain with their mounted retinues, both for service in the
field, and that he might keep these restless chiefs under his eye.
Among the rest he had not overlooked the Aeduan prince, Dumnorix, whose
intrigues had brought the Helvetii out of Switzerland, and whose
treachery had created difficulty and nearly disaster in the first
campaign. Dumnorix had not forgotten his ambition. He had affected
penitence, and he had been treated with kindness. He had availed
himself of the favor which had been shown to him to pretend to his
countrymen that Caesar had promised him the chieftainship. He had
petitioned earnestly to be excused from accompanying the expedition,
and, Caesar having for this reason probably the more insisted upon it,
he had persuaded the other chiefs that Caesar meant to destroy them,
and that if they went to Britain they would never return. These
whisperings were reported to Caesar. Dumnorix had come to Boulogne with
the rest, and he ordered him to be watched. A long westerly wind had
prevented Caesar from embarking as soon as he had wished. The weather
changed at last, and the troops were ordered on board. Dumnorix slipped
away in the confusion with a party of Aeduan horse, and it was now
certain that he had sinister intentions. The embarkation was suspended.
A detachment of cavalry was sent in pursuit, with directions to bring
Dumnorix back dead or alive. Dumnorix resisted, and was killed.
No disturbance followed on his death. The remaining chiefs were loyal,
or wished to appear loyal, and further delay was unnecessary. Labienus,
whom Caesar thoroughly trusted, remained behind with three legions and
two thousand horse to watch over Gaul; and on a fine summer evening,
with a light air from the south, Caesar sailed at sunset on the 20th of
July. He had five legions with him. He had as many cavalry as he had
left with Labienus. His flotilla, swollen by volunteers, amounted to
eight hundred vessels, small and great. At sunrise they were in
midchannel, lying in a dead calm, with the cliffs of Britain plainly
visible on their left hand. The tide was flowing. Oars were out; the
legionaries worked with such enthusiasm that the transports kept
abreast of the war-galleys. At noon they had reached the beach at Deal,
where this time they found no enemy to oppose their landing; the
Britons had been terrified at the multitude of ships and boats in which
the power of Rome was descending on them, and had fled into the
interior. The water was smooth, the disembarkation easy. A camp was
drawn out and intrenched, and six thousand men, with a few hundred
horse, were told off to guard it. The fleet was left riding quietly at
anchor, the pilots ignorant of the meaning of the treacherous southern
air which had been so welcome to them; and Caesar advanced inland as
far as the Stour. The Britons, after an unsuccessful stand to prevent
the Romans from crossing the river, retired into the woods, where they
had made themselves a fortress with felled trees. The weak defence was
easily stormed; the Britons were flying; the Romans were preparing to
follow; when an express came from Deal to tell Caesar that a gale had
risen again and the fleet was lying wrecked upon the shore. A second
accident of the same kind might have seemed an omen of evil, but Caesar
did not believe in omens. The even temperament of his mind was never
discomposed, and at each moment he was able always to decide, and to
do, what the moment required. The army was halted. He rode back himself
to the camp, to find that forty of his vessels only were entirely
ruined. The rest were injured, but not irreparably. They were hauled up
within the lines of the camp. He selected the best mechanics out of the
legions; he sent across to Labienus for more, and directed him to build
fresh transports in the yards at Boulogne. The men worked night and
day, and in little more than a week Caesar was able to rejoin his
troops and renew his march.
The object of the invasion had been rather to secure the quiet of Gaul
than the annexation of new subjects and further territory. But it could
not be obtained till the Romans had measured themselves against the
Britons, and had asserted their military superiority. The Britons had
already shown themselves a fearless race, who could not be despised.
They fought bravely from their cars and horses, retreated rapidly when
overmatched, and were found dangerous when pursued. Encouraged by the
report of the disaster to the fleet, Cassibelaunus, chief of the Cassi,
whose head-quarters were at St. Albans, had collected a considerable
army from both sides of the Thames, and was found in strength in
Caesar's front when he again began to move. They attacked his foraging
parties. They set on his flanking detachments. They left their cars,
and fought on foot when they could catch an advantage; and remounted
and were swiftly out of the reach of the heavily armed Roman infantry.
The Gaulish horse pursued, but did not know the country, and suffered
more harm than they inflicted. Thus the British gave Caesar
considerable trouble, which he recorded to their credit. Not a word can
be found in his Commentaries to the disparagement of brave and open
adversaries. At length he forced them into a battle, where their best
warriors were killed. The confederacy of tribes dissolved and never
rallied again, and he pursued his march thenceforward with little
molestation. He crossed the Medway, and reached the Thames seemingly at
Sunbury. There was a ford there, but the river was still deep, the
ground was staked, and Cassibelaunus with his own people was on the
other side. The legions, however, paid small attention to
Cassibelaunus; they plunged through with the water at their necks. The
Britons dispersed, driving off their cattle, and watching his march
from a distance. The tribes from the eastern counties made their
submission, and at Caesar's orders supplied him with corn. Caesar
marched on to St. Albans itself, then lying in the midst of forests and
marshes, where the cattle, the Cassi's only wealth, had been collected
for security. St. Albans and the cattle were taken; Cassibelaunus sued
for peace; the days were drawing in; and Caesar, having no intention of
wintering in Britain, considered he had done enough and need go no
farther. He returned as he had come. The Kentish men had attacked the
camp in his absence, but had been beaten off with heavy loss. The
Romans had sallied out upon them, killed as many as they could catch,
and taken one of their chiefs. Thenceforward they had been left in
quiet. A nominal tribute, which was never paid, was assigned to the
tribes who had submitted. The fleet was in order, and all was ready for
departure. The only, but unhappily too valuable, booty which they had
carried off consisted of some thousands of prisoners. These, when
landed in Gaul, were disposed of to contractors, to be carried to Italy
and sold as slaves. Two trips were required to transport the increased
numbers; but the passage was accomplished without accident, and the
whole army was again at Boulogne.
Thus ended the expedition into Britain. It had been undertaken rather
for effect than for material advantage; and everything which had been
aimed at had been gained. The Gauls looked no more across the Channel
for support of insurrections; the Romans talked with admiration for a
century of the far land to which Caesar had borne the eagles; and no
exploit gave him more fame with his contemporaries. Nor was it without
use to have solved a geographical problem, and to have discovered with
certainty what the country was, the white cliffs of which were visible
from the shores which were now Roman territory. Caesar during his stay
in Britain had acquired a fairly accurate notion of it. He knew that it
was an island, and he knew its dimensions and shape. He knew that
Ireland lay to the west of it, and Ireland, he had been told, was about
half its size. He had heard of the Isle of Man, and how it was
situated. To the extreme north above Britain he had ascertained that
there were other islands, where in winter the sun scarcely rose above
the horizon; and he had observed through accurate measurement by
water-clocks that the midsummer nights in Britain were shorter than in
the south of France and Italy. He had inquired into the natural
products of the country. There were tin mines, he found, in parts of
the island, and iron in small quantities; but copper was imported from
the Continent. The vegetation resembled that of France, save that he
saw no beech and no spruce pine. Of more consequence were the people
and the distribution of them. The Britons of the interior he conceived
to be indigenous. The coast was chiefly occupied by immigrants from
Belgium, as could be traced in the nomenclature of places. The country
seemed thickly inhabited. The flocks and herds were large; and farm
buildings were frequent, resembling those in Gaul. In Kent especially,
civilization was as far advanced as on the opposite continent. The
Britons proper from the interior showed fewer signs of progress. They
did not break the ground for corn; they had no manufactures; they lived
on meat and milk, and were dressed in leather. They dyed their skins
blue that they might look more terrible. They wore their hair long, and
had long mustaches. In their habits they had not risen out of the
lowest order of savagery. They had wives in common, and brothers and
sisters, parents and children, lived together with promiscuous
unrestraint. From such a country not much was to be gained in the way
of spoil; nor had much been expected. Since Cicero's conversion, his
brother Quintus had joined Caesar, and was now attending him as one of
his lieutenant-generals. The brothers were in intimate correspondence.
Cicero, though he watched the British expedition with interest,
anticipated that Quintus would bring nothing of value back with him but
slaves; and he warned his friend Atticus, who dealt extensively in such
commodities, that the slaves from Britain would not be found of
superior quality.[2]
[1] Nassau and Darmstadt.
[2] "Britannici belli exitus exspectatur. Constat enim, aditus insulae
esse munitos mirificis molibus. Etiam illud jam cognitum est, neque
argenti scrupulum esse ullum in illâ insulâ, neque ullam spem praedae,
nisi ex mancipiis: ex quibus nullos puto te litteris aut musicis
eruditos exspectare."--_Ad Atticum_, iv. 16. It does not appear
what Cicero meant by the "mirificae moles" which guarded the
approaches to Britain, whether Dover Cliff or the masses of sand
under water at the Goodwins.