Just
yesterday, I heard one of our presidential candidates make a ridiculous remark
that “with courage, all things can
be accomplished.” Presidential
candidates need to know more history.
Caesar
shared control of Rome with Pompey, but being Caesar, he naturally wanted
more—the problem was how to get it.
Quickly escalating almost nothing into a national crisis, Caesar invaded
Gaul in 58 B.C. (When I say Gaul, you
think France. This is not even close to
being completely historically or geographically accurate, but it is close
enough for this government employee.)
Six
years later, Caesar had all but vanquished his enemies when suddenly, a young,
energetic, and passionate leader, Vercingetorix, rallied the people and
launched a new uprising which did what Caesar had feared most—it gave hope and
a sense of nationalism to the all-but-defeated people of Gaul.
Caesar
reacted with characteristic swiftness and sought to engage the rebels, but the
wily Vercingetorix had adopted a brilliant strategy—'Don't directly fight the
nearly invincible Roman Army.' Instead,
as the Gallic army marched northward, it adopted a scorched-earth policy,
destroying the crops and food supplies that Caesar’s army depended on. This forced Caesar’s army to send out
numerous scouting parties to forage for food, and those small scavenging
parties are what Vercingetorix attacked.
Note. For most of human history, the hardest part
of winning a battle was getting an army to the battleground in good enough
condition to fight (Remember the saying, "An army marches on its
stomach."? Well, it fights "on
its stomach", too.) The fighting
was generally secondary. This is why,
for example, throughout most of American colonial history, a remote small
wooden fort supplied with nothing more than a single small cannon and a barrel
of moldy flour could control vast interior areas. In a pinch, the fort could give up the
cannon.
Caesar
has to stop this, and since he could not force Vercingetorix to fight in the
field, he attacked Avaricum, a Gallic high-walled stronghold that was generally
thought to be impregnable. Caesar laid
siege to the city, cutting off supplies from the outside while he began a
brutal assault on the town. He built a
huge platform of logs 80 feet high, positioned two towers on it to strafe the
battlements, and launched an all-out undermining effort against the city's
walls. The Gauls fought valiantly, but
it was all to no avail. The city fell
after a siege of one month’s
duration.
After
starving for a month—even while they labored to defeat the city—the Roman
Legions were pissed. Caesar’s account of
his campaign in Gaul is understandably self-serving, but even he admitted that
only 800 survived out of a population of 40,000.
This
defeat did not stop Vercingetorix; if anything, it spread a sense of
nationalism, even carrying the revolution to tribes that formerly had been
longstanding allies of Rome—a sure sign of its seriousness.
Vercingetorix
then attempted to ambush Caesar’s army on the march, but was foiled. So the Gauls retired to the hilltop fortress
at a place called Alesia in central France.
As a fortress, Alesia was considered impregnable (kind of like
Avaricum...). It had steep cliffs on all
sides and the only approach was a three mile long plain on the west side.
Caesar
recognized immediately that assault was impossible and decided to starve the
Gauls out by blockade. Paradoxically,
his best weapon would be the 80,000 troops of the enemy army--surely such a
large number of men would exhaust the town’s food supply quickly.
Caesar
constructed eight camps around Alesia, and joined them together with ramparts
and 12 foot wooden walls that ran for 10 miles.
Technically, such works are called circumvallation since they are
fortifications set up, facing the fortifications of the besieged.
Caesar’s
circumvallatlon was a substantial undertaking. It had two ditches out front, 15 feet deep
and 15 feet across. Since the plain to
the west was clearly a draw for enemy sorties, the innermost ditch here was
filled with water. An extra ditch, 20
feet across, had been dug across the plain some 650 yards in front of
the palisade, to protect the legionaries as they worked, and to offer a further
obstacle to any attempt to break out on the part of the Gauls trapped inside
Alesia.
The
wall, itself, was also formidable. The
excavated earth from the trenches was used to make fighting platforms within
the wall and 23 forts were incorporated into the wall.
From
within Alesia, Vercingetorix could see what Caesar was doing. Avoiding an open battle that the Romans would
surely win, he pulled his infantry inside the walls of Alesia and sent his
cavalry out, not only to escape, but to gather reinforcements. Part of the reason to send the cavalry out,
of course, was also not to waste grain on the horses. (The grain it takes to
feed a horse for a day will feed ten men.)
Spies
told Caesar about the approaching army coming to rescue Alesia. Prudence (or just plain common sense)
dictated a strategic withdrawal (Run Away!).
Now, if you remember, the whole point of Caesar's coming to Gaul was to
build power, and to add dignitas and gravitas to his image, so
retreating was out of the question.
Caesar’s
army constructed a second set of walls--this time facing outward. This contravallation had to be
even bigger, totaling 14 miles in length, with a three-story tower roughly
every 80 feet. In effect, the Roman army
was besieging Vercingetorix in Alesia while being besieged by a second army of
Gauls on the outside: the Romans were
caught in a fort that was a giant wooden doughnut.
Caesar had
65,000 men inside Fort Krispy Crème,
which faced 80,000 hungry soldiers in Alesia, while a force of 250,000 men was
gathering to attack him on the outside.
(Caesar said it was 250,000—Plutarch said it was 300,000—but then the
first liar never has a chance. Let’s be
a little more realistic and say 100,000.)
While
they waited, the Romans got creative. In
front of the walls, rows of sharpened stakes were placed into the trenches. With black humor the soldiers nicknamed
these obstacles cippi, which
means “boundary markers”
and also “tombstones.”
In front of these, pits three feet deep were dug and one sharpened stake
embedded into each, and then the hole concealed with twigs and grass. These obstacles the Roman troops nicknamed “lilies".
Finally,
in front of the lilies, small blocks of wood with barbed points or hooks nailed
into them, nicknamed “stimuli”,
were hammered into the grass so that the points were concealed. The Gallic infantry, which generally fought
in the nude (and therefore, barefooted!), faced a world of hurt before even
reaching the wooden walls.
With
his foraging hampered by the threat of the army coming to relieve Vercingetorix
, Caesar ordered his men to collect 30 days’ rations and to retire between the
two lines, which were about 200 yards apart.
Then he waited for what would come next.
To
preserve rations (and to place a burden on Caesar) Vercingetorix drove the
noncombatant population—women, children, and the elderly—out of Alesia. The poor wretches approached the Roman lines
and begged to be either admitted or to be allowed to pass through both
walls. But the Romans were in no better
shape to feed them than were the Gauls, so Caesar just left them to wander in
the no-man’s land between his lines and the walls of Alesia. At best, this was a blow to the morale of
Vercingetorix’s men as they daily watched those poor souls starve and die of
exposure.
It
says something about the character of both Caesar and Plutarch that neither
recorded the eventual fate of these damned innocents. And it says something about the naiveté of Vercingetorix if he really
thought Caesar would feed them.
The
relieving Gallic army began assaulting the outer Roman lines, starting with a
surprise nighttime attack. Despite
several attempts, the Roman lines held.
Finally, the Gallic forces attacked at all points along the Roman
fortifications, both inside and out of the fortifications.
This
was the key moment of the whole engagement and it is a testament to Roman
discipline that the legionaries held their ground and defended the palisades
stubbornly. Caesar noted how unnerving
it was for them to hear the shouts and sounds of battle coming from behind
them, knowing that their lives were in the hands of their comrades who were
defending the other siege line—But the Romans held their posts anyway.
Both
Vercingetorix and Caesar participated in this last battle. Caesar, wearing a scarlet cloak and leading
the reserve forces, personally joined in the fighting. The interior Gallic forces attacking the
fortifications eventually broke and fled, leaving Caesar victorious. The sight of this defeat caused the relieving
army to retire in some disorder.
The
next day, Vercingetorix surrendered himself to Caesar. The survivors from Alesia were given to the
Roman soldiers as prizes.
Vercingetorix’s fate was worse:
he was kept alive to walk behind Caesar’s chariot in the triumphal
procession in Rome, and was eventually executed by garrote as an enemy of the
Roman people. Two years later, of
course, Caesar himself lay dead, killed by his own people as a tyrant.
Note. If you watched the HBO series ‘Rome’, the first episode begins with the
surrender of Vercingetorix, but there is no mention of the Battle of
Alesia. Caesar, of course, would gain
the power he craved, as well as wealth beyond imagination. He was to bring back so much gold from Gaul
that the market temporarily collapsed, with the price of the metal falling by
half. While Rome chose to honor his army
for the victory at Alesia, the Roman Senate refused to honor Caesar, so he took
his army and crossed the Rubicon, then became dictator perpetuus.
So,
in one sense then, the contest at Alesia was between disciplined Roman
perseverance and flamboyant Gallic courage.
Unfortunately, for all its admirable passion, the latter proved
insufficient.
It was George S. Patton who said, "Fixed fortifications are a monument to the stupidity of man." Think about it. You trap yourself inside of walls with a limited supply of food and (most of the time) water. Then you allow yourself to be surrounded by an army that has access to all the food and water they can get their hands on. The numbers just don't look good for the people behind the walls. The Alamo was lost for a reason. At San Jacinto, however, the Texians, a smaller but more mobile force, chose the moment of battle and kicked the butts of Santa Anna's larger force (which was understaffed thanks in part to the Texas Navy - something that always irked Sam Houston who, like Santa Anna, got his strategery straight out of Napoleon's playbook at a time when, ironically, Napoleon had, some two decades before, had his own butt kicked by Lord Wellington. One thing Napoleon did do right, though, was he didn't like to do fortresses. It probably accounts for his long term success.
ReplyDeleteIt would have been great if you had included the battle of Gergovia in this post.
ReplyDelete