Legatus Legionis: Book Two in the Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy (39 page)

The following morning saw the Celts lined up on their hill, the Romans in formation, and the insults renewed. It was obvious that the Celts intended to defend this stream and let the Romans come to them, a sound tactic for defenders, Gaius was forced to acknowledge. Since Rome had to remove the opposition from the field, there was no option but to attack. Two cohorts were ordered to march towards the swamp, while three would make a direct crossing of the stream but then move towards the gentler slopes.

The Celts responded by marching a corresponding number of soldiers partly down the hill to greet the Romans when they emerged from the swamp, and they advanced a line partly down the hill to meet those directly crossing the river. The remaining Celts stood along the hilltop. The Celts would defend along a line and hold the Romans, and if this force alone was committed, they could commit more force to outflank the Roman advance, yet have force in reserve to counter any different Roman advance.

Caratacus might not be brilliant, Gaius noted, but he was certainly better than adequate. There would be no stupid mistake from the Celts. There was now little option but to attack front on in full strength. He would time the advance so that it was just beginning to advance up-hill when the others began to emerge from the swamp. He would space the advance so that he could wheel towards the left if necessary to link with the others, or alternatively advance with a useful space between the units. One cohort would advance behind the main advance, able to block any attempt to punch between the two forward units, or be able to wheel right and give the Celts a flanking problem. He smiled to himself as he realized he would now have four groups of cohorts. Since a cavalry charge up-hill was unlikely to succeed, the uncommitted cavalry could rest for the time being.

On the signal three cohorts began to advance towards the stream. The Celts on the hill watched impassively. The Roman force now began crossing the stream; the Celts on the hill continued to watch impassively. Gaius nodded to himself. Caratacus was no fool. He was not going to give up the flexibility that came with height advantage, and he was not going to send his men into catapult range. He would let the Romans come to him.

As the Roman force emerged from the stream and continued to march forward, Celtic archers took position. The Romans immediately formed into the testudo formation and with shields locked into a seemingly impenetrable wall in front of the line and over the heads of the troops, then they marched relentlessly upward. Gaius noted that Caratacus had refused to fall into the traps of sending forces down to try to outflank the Romans, or to try to force a hole between the two cohort groups. He was going to deal with each separately, front on, and not yield the height advantage.

The Celts poured arrows and rocks onto the Romans and when, despite the shields, some fell, the resultant space was immediately filled and the shield defence maintained. The Romans advanced, and when halfway up the Celts now began to send down huge boulders. The Romans let these pass between them with only a minimum of damage, but in doing so they broke the testudo formation, and the accompanying rain of arrows caused an uncomfortably large number of casualties. Nevertheless, the advance continued. Then as the wall reached within forty meters of the line of the Celtic infantry, with wild yells, these Celts charged down onto the two Roman groups.

At the point when the charges were in full flight, Gaius knew that Caratacus would have lost full control of his men. He indicated for the large horns to signal "Advance at the double." The horns blew, and an instant later, a signal could be heard from over the far hill, indicating that the advance had commenced.

Some Celts faltered, others did not, and a fierce but scattered wall of men hit the Roman lines. The initial impact, with lances and axes, was almost irresistible and Romans fell, and in two places the line buckled. Fierce hand to hand fighting ensued as the Centurions desperately tried to plug the holes. The most useful tactic was for the first line to take as much as it could, then fall back and be replaced by the second line. Always a difficult manoeuvre to execute properly, here it was almost impossible because of the broken terrain, and the weight of Celts pouring onto the front line. If they gave ground, that weight might become impossible to hold before the second line could form its position, and accordingly the front line had to hold and fight. Gaius ordered the rear maniples of the main line to begin to make a move towards the right, to commence a flanking probe.

The Celts, however, still had height advantage, and found that if the front line simply defended with large shields, those behind could use their shoulders to guide lances. The battle was now one in which the front line of the Celts defended as well as they could and struck with swords where possible, while those behind wielded lance and axe. Celts fell, but so did Romans, and wherever a Celt fell and rolled, it frequently partially tripped a Roman, allowing a further strike by a Celtic sword. The scene was one of total confusion, with the hideous sounds of yelling and swearing as strikes were made and received. Although the Roman line made occasional steps forward, at this stage the battle could have gone either way.

Then, as the rather unexpected sound of battle came from behind them, the Celts faltered. Something was happening behind the hill, and they had no idea what it was. What they did know was that they had few reserves, which meant that their supplies would be taken and, if present, families were vulnerable to slaughter. Some wanted to get back, some wanted to flee, and at that very time it was almost as if a wave of uncertainty washed across the Celts. It was at this moment that the right flanking probe began to make more progress, and because of the general uncertainty, the Celts did not cover it properly. Although the battle would continue for an hour, at that very moment victory for the Romans was decided.

* * *

A victory always felt good, but for Gaius it was always soured by the groans of the injured. For the enemy dead he felt nothing, but there was no pleasure to be had from hearing pain and suffering from those still living, nor from the cowering and fearful looks of the losers. His instructions on losers were clear; once a Celt surrendered or carried no arms, provided he or she followed instructions they were to be treated fairly. Failure to do so would be failure to obey the orders of the
Legatus
. Few soldiers were unaware that the resultant punishment would be severe at best. The policy was as much practical as generous of spirit. Some of the prisoners might be needed for other purposes, and there was no point in generating unnecessary hatred. If some were eventually to be sold as slaves, there was no point in injuring the goods.

Visiting his men was always bittersweet. There was always joy visiting the groups of soldiers, primed with wine, telling the somewhat exaggerated stories of their exploits, but any such sweetness was always soured by knowing who had been killed, and by visiting the seriously injured. The doctors and their herbs seemed to be able to do miracles sometimes, but often the miracle simply did not happen. Only too often a good man descended into a stinking fever before dying, and it was particularly hurtful to see the man smell his own death before it visited him.

The victory was more or less complete. A high per centage of the committed Celtic force appeared to have been killed or captured, and large amounts of supplies, gold, and weapons had been confiscated. On the other hand, Roman losses were heavier than he would have liked. Any Roman death was one too many, but it was not practical to fight a war against a determined, ferocious and capable enemy without losing soldiers. As expected, Caratacus himself had escaped with some of his senior officers, and with some cavalry.

Since the enemy had been routed, opposition would now cease for a few weeks. Once this site was under control, the legion would advance, taking a good number of miles, villages, and prime land under control. The legion should be able to advance well into the land of the Dobunni before meeting further serious opposition. If he marched at the rate Julius did, all the clearly arable flattish land in southern Britain could be under Roman control by the summer solstice. At that point, Rome would control most of the food supply and the arable land. Most of the Celtic farmers would abandon Caratacus and head home, to try to avoid losing their farms.

He had heard that Vespasian was meeting strong opposition to the south. If he wanted to win his bet, he could wheel slightly south and head for the mouth of the large river.

Not that military strategy should be, nor in his case would be, influenced by a bet.

Chapter 31

Gaius stared first in disbelief, and then with increasing anger at the orders from Plautius. The twentieth was to cease its advance for the time being and instead consolidate its position. He must reign in his enthusiasm and cease wandering unsupported through enemy terrain, and he should wait until the other legions caught up and a rough line was formed. In the mean time he was ordered to travel south to meet with Vespasian to coordinate the southwestern push. What sort of orders were these? Orders from an overly cautious unimaginative bureaucrat!

There were two problems with these orders. The first was that the best part of a month would be lost, and besides the fact he could probably reach Aquae Sulis by then, which would cut the supply for and isolate the southern Celts, the time taken going to and fro would mean that the information on which the decision was reached would be out of date. The two legions were simply too far away from each other for meaningful coordinated operations.

Now was the time to advance, while the enemy was in disarray. Plautius seemed concerned that the twentieth might get isolated if it advanced too far, and be encircled. What cautious nonsense! If an enemy unit was to get between the twentieth and the second, the two legions would crush them , and if they did not, he would hardly be encircled. Plautius' strategy of slow and steady consolidation would work, in time, but lightning fast advances were the way to go about it. The objective was to secure as much territory as possible before those who were against Rome could form a coordinated resistance. If Plautius did not move fast, Caratacus could reunite tribes to him, and if he used them properly, by raiding relatively undefended centres, fighting brief battles, inflicting quick damage, then retreating into the forests and swamps, he might have a chance, or at the very least he would provide sustained resistance that would tie up many soldiers and would be expensive to put down.

On the other hand, if the twentieth advanced rapidly now he could make it as far as the western mountains almost unopposed, as the Celts would not have had time to regroup and reorganize a new army. Such a bold advance would cut off opposing tribes in the south from help from the north. Since there were no unified British tribes, those in the north would have to think about accommodating Rome, while those in the south, cut off from help, would have to think about making peace. But instead of the quick, bold move, he had to go south and talk, and when he had finished talking he would advance into territory the enemy had had time to fortify. Great strategy!

However, orders were orders.

He could hardly believe the second message either. Quintus and Lucilla were travelling to meet Vespasian, and he would meet them there. Vipsania had tagged on and had joined the party.

How could Quintus be so stupid! Had he no idea that he would be travelling through a recent war zone? The party had originally been invited to Britain by Cogidumnus; apparently Cogidumnus was under the impression that Quintus had influence with Vespasian and with the Princeps. Visiting Cogidumnus was safe enough, but heading west? Was Quintus acting as some envoy for Cogidumnus? Or, more likely, did he have his eyes on tin?

Or was Sabinus the problem? Vespasian would report that he had conquered and pacified the tribes, and Sabinus would advise that the land behind Vespasian was pacified. The problem with staff officers was they spent too much time in their tents. When Vespasian said he had pacified land, what he would mean was that opposing armies were removed from the region. That did not mean that law and order was fully imposed. In the chaos following war, there would always be the opportunist criminals, ready to rob and kill passers-by, and a determined enemy would always send raiding parties to harass supply lines.

Not that he could do anything about this. He had to obey Plautius' orders, so he would prepare to travel. And perhaps there was one good outcome possible. As Vipsania must go back to Rome, she could take his writings and his engine parts. The truth of the matter was, commanding a legion on rapid advance left little time for inventing, while the continual travel through marshes was likely to damage his writings. They should be kept in safety, and that meant being kept in Rome.

He would not be separated from these items for long, as Claudius had promised that he would return to Rome at the end of the campaigning season, by which time Caratacus should no longer be a military threat. And he would not, if only he could set off in pursuit instead of going on a talkfest with Vespasian. Not that he could do much about that. He, and a small party, would leave in the morning.

On the other hand, there was no need for the legion to be sitting on its hands. The general direction was westwards, and at the very least the control of Aquae Sulis was desirable. If the legion could make that in good time, the scission of supplies and troops between the north and the tin mines of the south would be at least reasonably achieved. It was impossible to prevent squads from traversing the heavily forested country, but large troop movements and large trains of carts would be easily seen and intercepted. He would call the Tribunes to his tent, and leave orders for a march to commence as soon as the local clean up was completed. Plautius would not be pleased, but so what?

In the meantime, he must prepare to travel. He would take a small squad of soldiers and horses, together with a couple of extra horses to carry the bags of his precious possessions. There was work to do.