Ancient Britain and the Invasions of Julius Caesar

by T. Rice Holmes

VIII. WISSANT

Wissant is between Cape Grisnez and Cape Blancnez, both of which, in Caesar’s time, projected somewhat further out to sea than they do now.[2756] Dr. Guest argues that the sandy waste, more than two miles long and varying in breadth from a quarter to half a mile, which lies between the uplands and the sand-hills, was once covered by the sea;[2757] and he conjectures that the ‘pool-harbour’ thus formed communicated with the English Channel by ‘the gap through which flows the Rieu des Aiguilles’, a rivulet which crosses the sandy plain. At the same time he admits that it is very difficult to say what the limits of the ancient harbour were.[2758]

Dr. Guest’s theory, which was regarded by Mr. Freeman and Dean Merivale as conclusive, is a theory and nothing more. Mariette, the famous Egyptologist, states that the dunes themselves (without which Dr. Guest’s harbour could not have been) were not formed before the time of Edward the Third;[2759] and M. H. Rigaux concludes, from a recent minute exploration of the coast between Cape Grisnez and Sangatte, that the dune which extends from the ‘ruisseau de Guiptun’, near Tardinghem, to the ‘ruisseau d’Herlan’ at Wissant did not exist in Caesar’s day.[2760] Moreover, pottery, pre-Roman and Roman, has been found in the sand behind the dunes between Wissant and Tardinghem as well as east of Wissant;[2761] numerous finds have proved that the coast between Sangatte and Dunkirk has undergone subsidence and extended further seaward in Roman times than now;[2762] and it may be concluded that the sandy plain at Wissant was not then covered by the sea. It would appear, then, that Dr. Guest’s pool-harbour was imaginary. Haigneré,[2763] moreover, remarks that if there ever had been such a harbour, it must have been speedily choked up by sand blown from the very dunes which ex hypothesi formed it; and this argument is confirmed by the fact that irruptions of blown sand, before the dunes were ‘fixed’ by being planted with coarse grass, engulfed many buildings at Wissant.[2764] It has, however, been pointed out by Mr. E. C. H. Day[2765] that ‘a shoal having less than a fathom of water on it at the lowest tides, extends from Cape Grisnez, in a north-easterly direction, in such a manner as to cut off a channel about half a mile in width, and having a depth of from two to three fathoms of water in it, directly abreast of Wissant. The shoal,’ he adds, ‘during the course of centuries of exposure to the heavy seas that break upon the coast, must have undergone some considerable amount of destruction. Formerly, therefore, this shoal must have formed a natural breakwater, and have rendered the channel within it a convenient harbour.’ But, assuming the correctness of Mr. Day’s deduction, this ‘harbour’ would have been exposed to the fury both of the west and of the north-east wind. M. Léon Lejeal,[2766] who tells us that a French engineer, M. J. Voisin, supposes that the shoal was once connected with the mainland, and thus formed a partially-sheltered harbour, concludes that there is nothing to show that it was large enough to shelter the fleet ‘que voulut y ancrer l’imagination d’une archéologie en délire’;[2767] and M. Leblanc, who in the year 1863 was engineer of the port of Calais and was intimately acquainted with the geology of Wissant, ridicules such a notion. ‘Toutes les fois,’ he remarks, ‘que j’allais de Calais au Gris-Nez ... je traversais Wissant, en étudiant cette question, et je me disais à moi-même: quelle preuve peut on avoir d’une pareille absurdité?’[2768] Hariulf, a chronicler who lived in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, described the harbour of Wissant as an ‘inlet’ (ingressum maris),[2769] which would seem to imply that it was simply a creek formed by one of the rivulets which meander across the sand. Henry, the historian of Boulogne, who was bent upon proving the identity of Wissant with the Portus Itius, would certainly have anticipated Guest’s theory if he could have done so with truth; but, after a careful examination of the site, he came to the conclusion that Caesar’s ships must have been drawn up on an exposed beach.[2770]

1. Long[2771] argues that the distance of Wissant from Sangatte corresponds with the distance between the port from which Caesar started on his first expedition and the superior portus; that its distance from the English coast agrees ‘at least as well as any other place’ with Caesar’s estimate of the distance from the Portus Itius to Britain; that its name, which [according to Michel Baudrand,[2772] a writer of the seventeenth, century] French sailors used to call Esseu and the Flemings Isten, ‘is near enough to Itius to add to the probability of the identity of the two places’; that there are traces of a Roman road from Wissant to Thérouanne; that in the neighbourhood of Wissant ‘fresh water was abundant, the soil rich, and the beach the best that there could be for such ships as Caesar’s’; and that, if Wissant was not, strictly speaking, a port at all, ‘Caesar did not want a port in the modern sense of the word. He wanted his ships at the nearest place to Britain.... His vessels would be hauled up on the beach till the wind was fair. He had no port on the British coast, and he hauled up all his ships after they were damaged by a storm.’ ‘This long sandy beach,’ he says, ‘was the best place along all this coast for Caesar’s purpose.’[2773]

Of these arguments the first, mutatis mutandis, is equally applicable to Boulogne. The argument from nomenclature is worthless:[2774] ‘Wissant’ is not derived from ‘Itius’; it is said to be merely a corruption of ‘Weiss-sand’ (Whitesand).[2775] There is no evidence for the alleged Roman road. The Roman road which, according to Henry,[2776] led from Thérouanne to Wissant, really led to Sangatte.[2777] Dr. Guest, who carefully explored Wissant and its neighbourhood, found that the soil, which Long calls ‘rich’, is ‘notoriously barren’.[2778] And, in reply to the last of Long’s arguments, it is sufficient to say that, although Caesar did perforce beach his ships on the coast of Britain, yet he suffered heavily from not having a port; and the mere fact that he sent Volusenus to ascertain what ports on the British coast were capable of accommodating a large fleet proves that his original intention was to land in a port, and not on an open beach. Long’s assertion, that the beach at Wissant ‘was the best place along all this coast for Caesar’s purpose’, Dr. Guest, who agrees with him in identifying the Portus Itius with Wissant, treats with utter scorn; but his criticism is founded upon the groundless assumption that the sand-dune between Wissant and Tardinghem then existed.[2779] However, Long admits that ‘it would not be possible now to draw up a fleet like Caesar’s on the beach’. ‘But,’ he persists, ‘if there have been such great changes on this coast that Dr. Guest’s huge harbour is filled up, why may not my beach have undergone some change also?’[2780] The reply is obvious. What Long calls ‘my beach’ may have undergone changes: but, unless it can be proved not only that ships could have been hauled up on the beach of Wissant in Caesar’s time, but also that there then existed at Wissant a harbour large enough to accommodate Caesar’s fleet, the claim of Wissant to be identified with the Portus Itius cannot be admitted.

But Long is not the only writer who maintains that the Portus Itius was not a port properly so called; and this question is so important that we must fairly examine the arguments that have been adduced in support of Long’s view.

Heller argues that since Caesar beached his ships on his return from the second expedition, we may conclude that the Portus Itius was not a harbour in the strict sense, as, if the shelter of a harbour had been available, he would not have taken the trouble to draw them up on shore.[2781]

But Heller forgets that the ancients never left their ships at anchor for any lengthened period, but invariably laid them up high and dry for the winter.[2782] Moreover, if eight hundred ships had been beached at Wissant, would it not have been necessary, in order to protect them from storm-driven spring tides, to construct an enormous naval camp, the earth necessary for which did not exist?

Professor Ridgeway insists that, if Strabo is to be believed, the Portus Itius can only be identified with Wissant.[2783] Strabo[2784] calls Caesar’s place of embarkation τὸ Ἴτιον. This word, the professor observes, is obviously an adjective, and, as it agrees with a neuter word understood, it cannot agree with λιμήν or κόλπος (a harbour), but must agree with ἄκρον or ἀκρωτήριον (a headland). Evidently, then, Strabo’s τὸ Ἴτιον is the same as Ptolemy’s Ἴτιον ἄκρον. Similarly Strabo[2785] speaks of Cape Finisterre as Νέριον,, while Ptolemy[2786] calls it Νέριον ἀκρωτήριον. Now Strabo does not call Ἴτιον a harbour, but only a roadstead ναύσταθμον, a term which Thucydides[2787] applies to Cape Malea. Thus, if Strabo was right, the Portus Itius was the roadstead sheltered by the Itian promontory.

The professor’s argument is not convincing. Granted that Ἴτιον must agree with ἄκρον, on him lies the burden of proving that the headland in question was not Cap d’Alprech, which shelters the estuary of the Liane, and the geographical position of which corresponds closely enough with that which Ptolemy assigns to Ἴτιον ἄκρον.[2788] When the professor remarks[2789] that ‘the advocates of both Wissant and Boulogne support the claim of Grisnez’ against Alprech he is mistaken. Desjardins is only one of many French writers who ‘support the claim’ of Alprech against Grisnez. Moreover, supposing that the professor is right in identifying the Itian promontory with Grisnez, he is wrong in assuming that the word ναύσταθμον necessarily excludes the idea of a harbour. Sometimes it is used to denote a port already described as a λιμήν, or harbour properly so called, in order to draw attention to the fact that that harbour was a naval station. Thus Strabo,[2790] immediately after mentioning the Piraeus and the other two harbours of Athens, says that the ναύσταθμον was capable of accommodating the four hundred ships which composed the Athenian fleet. And Pausanias,[2791] speaking of Nauplia, the port of Argos, which, according to Strabo,[2792] was the ναύσταθμον of the Argives, says, ‘there are harbours in Nauplia’ (λιμένες εἰσὶν ἐν Ναυπλίᾳ).[2793] To anybody who knows anything about ancient navigation, the suggestion that Caesar would have kept 800 ships riding at anchor for several weeks in an open roadstead, exposed to the fury of the north-west wind, while, a few miles off in the Liane, there was an ample sheltered harbour available, must appear simply ridiculous. And, assuming that Strabo did intend to convey that τὸ Ἴτιον was merely a roadstead, the answer is that Strabo is refuted by Caesar, who says that his ships assembled ad portum Itium,[2794]—‘in the Itian harbour.’ The Portus Itius must have been a port, properly so called; and the more discerning advocates of Wissant naturally accept this view.[2795]

Long maintains, further, that, although Caesar does not say directly that the passage from the Portus Itius to Britain was actually the shortest, yet he does so indirectly; for he tells us that he went to the country of the Morini ‘because the shortest passage to Britain was from their country’; and the port in their country which he selected was the Portus Itius.[2796] But, as all who are familiar with the Commentaries will admit, Long throws an undue strain upon Caesar’s language. Caesar tells us, in general terms, that the shortest passage to Britain was from the country of the Morini: but it is bad logic to conclude from this statement that the passage from the Portus Itius must have been actually the shortest as the crow flies. Caesar would never have chosen the passage which was in this sense the shortest if it had been on other grounds objectionable: obviously what he meant to say was that of the regular passages to Britain that from the country of the Morini was the shortest; and the passage from the Portus Itius being, as he says, ‘the most convenient,’ was, for all practical purposes, the shortest.

It is clear, then, that Long failed to establish the identity of the Portus Itius with Wissant. Let us see what better informed advocates of the same theory have to say.

2. Not to mention the arguments which are common to him and Long, Dr. Guest gives the following reasons for his belief:—that the (assumed) harbour of Wissant was large enough to hold Caesar’s fleet; that it lay beneath Cape Grisnez, which he identifies with the Itian promontory; and that William of Poitiers, a chronicler of the eleventh century, called it ‘Portus Icius’.[2797] He will not admit that William was simply stating his own opinion: ‘I think,’ he says, ‘this name may have been handed down to him by the Romanised Gauls, inasmuch as the name of Ician seems to have been long kept afloat in the recollection of the Celtic population of these islands’; and he points out that ‘the old Irish name for the English Channel is Muir n’ Icht’, or ‘the Itian sea’. But the fact on which he lays most stress is the proximity of Wissant to Cape Grisnez. He freely admits, indeed, that Cap d’Alprech may, in Caesar’s time, have been a more considerable promontory than it is at present;[2798] but he cannot conceive that the promontory which Ptolemy selected for especial mention should have been any other than the famous cape which is and must always have been the most conspicuous feature of the north-eastern coast of France, and which marks the point where the coast, making a sharp angle, begins to trend towards the east. ‘Cape Grisnez,’ he concludes, ‘there can hardly be a doubt, was the Ician promontory, and if so, the great port which lay beneath it must have been the Ician Port.’[2799]

‘The great port which lay beneath it,’—these words, Dr. Guest, beg the whole question. That the harbour of Wissant was large enough to hold Caesar’s fleet would be true, if Dr. Guest’s conjectural tracing of its outline were correct: but the fact, if it were a fact, would simply remove one of the objections which have been brought against Wissant; it would not prove that Wissant was the Portus Itius. For the harbour of Boulogne was also large enough, and was also, as will presently appear, in other respects far more convenient. The argument that William of Poitiers called Wissant the Portus Itius has no weight. Maistre Wace, who wrote about a century after William of Poitiers, believed that Caesar had sailed from Boulogne.[2800] Moreover, Hericus, a monk of the ninth century,[2801] identified Bibracte with Autun; but it is now universally admitted, and it is certain, that Hericus was wrong.[2802] It may be admitted that a priori it would seem much more likely that the Itian promontory was Cape Grisnez than that it was Cap d’Alprech; but if the former identification is to be accepted, it is necessary to assume that Ptolemy made a gross blunder. It is of course quite true, as Dr. Guest says,[2803] that Ptolemy did make mistakes; but still the fact remains that the geographical position which he assigns to the Itian promontory is, allowing for a slight error in longitude, that of Cap d’Alprech. As Mr. Peskett puts it, ‘Ptolemy, proceeding northward, places the headland between the Somme and Boulogne’;[2804] and I may add that if you only know Cap d’Alprech by the map, you will be surprised, when you actually see it, to find how bold a headland it is. Moreover, even if Ptolemy was mistaken, it does not follow that the Itian harbour was Wissant. Professor Rhys, who believes that the Gauls as well as the Irish called the Channel ‘the sea of Icht’, remarks that ‘in that case Portus Ictius would designate Caesar’s place of embarcation, somewhat in the same way that Dover might in English be termed the Channel Harbour. The former probably had a Gaulish name of its own, which may have become the Latin one also as soon as the Romans began to be a little more at home in the north of Gaul; so that it would be labour in vain to try to detect Ictius in any place-name still current on the French coast.’[2805] Let us, however, assume, for the sake of argument, that Professor Rhys is mistaken. Even then it does not follow that the Portus Itius was Wissant. For it will not be denied that Boulogne was, in Caesar’s time as in the time of the emperors, a frequented harbour; and it is certain that Wissant was not a harbour capable of containing Caesar’s fleet. Therefore Boulogne, which is only nine statute miles south of Cape Grisnez, was obviously the nearest important harbour to that promontory. Why, then, if Cape Grisnez was the Itian promontory, should Boulogne not have been called the Itian harbour? Even on the desperate theory that when Caesar spoke of a harbour, he did not mean a harbour but only a roadstead, that roadstead was not at Wissant; for if Caesar’s ships had waited there, either at anchor or on the beach, exposed to the north-west winds for twenty-five days, they would have been in extreme peril.

Dr. Guest admits of course that Boulogne, not Wissant, was the permanent harbour of the Romans in North-Eastern Gaul under the empire; but in this fact he sees no objection to his theory. He believes that the Romans, when they had to choose a permanent harbour, rejected Wissant and chose Boulogne because of the sterility of the country in the neighbourhood of the former. ‘Wissant,’ he remarks, ‘or rather the port adjacent to Wissant, may have answered Caesar’s purpose, when he had hundreds of ships to supply the wants of his commissariat; but when a port was to be provided to meet the ordinary purposes of traffic, it was necessary to select one that possessed local resources.’[2806]

The reason which Dr. Guest gives for the choice of Boulogne is sound enough as far as it goes; but what support does it lend to the theory that Caesar used Wissant as a temporary harbour? The sterility of the neighbourhood would hardly have recommended it. It must have had some great advantage to compensate for this defect if it was really to be preferred, even as a temporary harbour, to Boulogne. But it is impossible to point out one single advantage which Wissant could have had, for Caesar’s purpose, over Boulogne, save only that, as the crow flies, it was a little nearer to Britain.

Dr. Guest, indeed, assures us that ‘Caesar had no time for weighing the comparative merits of the ports north and south of him, and for determining which of them was “the most convenient”’.[2807] No time! Had he not five days to spare for Volusenus’s reconnaissance? A single day would have sufficed to ride along the coast from Wissant to Boulogne; a few minutes spent at each of those places would have sufficed ‘for determining which of them was “the most convenient”’: but the greatest general of Rome could not spare even one day for a duty which the worst would not have neglected; so he pitched upon Wissant, because, as Dr. Guest tells us, ‘it afforded him the shortest passage’! So argued the man who, according to Freeman, ‘settled the whole matter,’ the man who, from Freeman’s point of view, appeared to stand, side by side with Stubbs, ‘at the head of living students of English history.’[2808]

3. Heller is not as ardent an advocate of Wissant as Guest; but he has written some very ingenious papers in defence of Guest’s view. Many of his reasons are virtually identical with those of the English scholar; but from Caesar’s narrative of his second voyage he deduces a fresh argument, which deserves special attention. Caesar, as we have seen, set sail about sunset with a light south-westerly wind. About midnight the wind dropped: the fleet, borne by the tide, drifted out of its course;[2809] and ‘at daybreak Caesar saw Britain lying behind on the port quarter’ (orta luce sub sinistra Britanniam relictam conspexit[2810]). From the last statement Heller infers that Caesar’s ship must have drifted to some point off the North Foreland: otherwise, he argues, the word relictam would be meaningless. For, he remarks, Caesar believed that one side of Britain faced the north. Therefore it must be assumed that he had no knowledge of that part of the coast which trends northward beyond the mouth of the Thames: he must have thought that the coast, at the North Foreland, turned sharply towards the west. Otherwise he could not have believed that he had left Britain behind; nor could he have believed this unless he had drifted to some point off the North Foreland. Now Caesar started on his voyage about the 6th of July.[2811] On that day the sun set about 8.16; and on the following morning it rose about 3.54. There must have been light enough to show the British coast as early as 3.15 or 3.20. Heller maintains that Caesar could by daybreak have reached a point about 2 German [or 9½ English] miles south-east of the North Foreland, not quite as far north as the latitude of Ramsgate, if he had sailed from Wissant; but he insists that if he had sailed from Boulogne, he could not have drifted further northward than the latitude of Deal, in which case he could not have said that he ‘saw Britain left behind on the port quarter’.[2812]

This argument rests upon a strained interpretation of the word relictam. It is probably true that Caesar could not have drifted as far north as the latitude of Ramsgate if he had sailed from Boulogne;[2813] but even if he had only drifted as far north as the latitude of Walmer, he would have been perfectly justified in using the word relictam. For that word does not imply that Caesar believed himself to have left the northern coast of Britain behind: it simply implies that, as the current was carrying him in a north-easterly direction[2814] and therefore sweeping him every minute further and further away from Britain, ‘he saw Britain lying behind on the port quarter.’ There is a parallel passage in the twenty-first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, which shows that this was his meaning. In the second and third verses of that chapter the writer, after describing the voyage of himself and St. Paul from Ephesus by way of Cos and Rhodes to Patara, says, ‘Having found a ship crossing over unto Phoenicia, we went aboard, and set sail. And when we had come in sight of Cyprus, leaving it on the left hand, we sailed unto Syria, and landed at Tyre’ (καὶ εὑρόντες πλοῖον διαπερῶν εἰς Φοινίκην ἐπιβάντες ἀνήχθημεν, ἀναφάναντες δὲ τὴν Κύπρον καὶ καταλιπόντες αὐτὴν εὐώνυμον ἐπλέομεν εἰς Συρίαν καὶ κατήλθομεν εἰς Τύρον). If the reader will look at his map, he will see that the writer of the Acts, when he came in sight of Cyprus and left it on the left hand, was in precisely the same position with regard to Cyprus as Caesar would have been in with regard to Britain if, drifting in a north-easterly direction, he had descried the coast of Britain from some point in the latitude of Deal.[2815] And if Heller will use his common sense he will see that if a ship about the latitude of Deal were drifting away from Britain, that ship would have left Britain behind just as really as if it had passed Cape Wrath and were drifting towards Iceland.

Lastly, even if Heller’s explanation of the word relictam were correct, the argument which he builds upon it would be unsound; for obviously that argument would only hold good if Caesar had drifted north of the latitude of the North Foreland. Heller himself admits that he had hardly drifted so far north as the latitude of Ramsgate; and at this point, on Heller’s own theory, he could no more have said that he had left the northern coast of Britain behind than if he had been in the latitude of Deal.

Both Heller[2816] and Guest[2817] deduce an argument in favour of Wissant from a well-known passage of Strabo.[2818] It runs as follows:—‘There are four regular passages from the Continent to the island, namely, from the mouths of the Rhine, the Seine, the Loire, and the Garonne. People who cross from the country near the Rhine do not sail from the mouth of that river, but from the country of the Morini ... and in their country is the Itian (harbour), which Caesar used as his naval station, when he was crossing to the island’ (τέτταρα δ’ ἐστὶ διάρματα, οἷς χρῶνται συνήθως ἐπὶ τὴν νῆσον ἐκ τῆς ἠπείρου, τὰ ἀπὸ τῶν ἐκβολῶν τῶν ποταμῶν, τοῦ τε Ῥήνου καὶ τοῦ Σηκοάνα καὶ τοῦ Λείγηρος καὶ τοῦ Γαρούνα. τοῖς δ’ ἀπὸ τῶν περὶ τὸν Ῥῆνον τόπων ἀναγομένοις οὐκ ἀπ’ αὐτῶν τῶν ἐκβολῶν ὁ πλοῦς ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ ἀπὸ τῶν ὁμορούντων τοῖς Μεναπίοις Μορινῶν, παρ’ οἷς ἐστι καὶ τὸ Ἴτιον, ᾧ ἐχρήσατο ναυστάθμῳ Καῖσαρ ὁ θεός, διαίρων εἰς τὴν νῆσον). I have italicized the word and, because the meaning of καί has been disputed. Dr. Guest argues that the port from which the inhabitants of the country near the Rhine sailed must have been Boulogne; and, he continues, ‘every unprejudiced reader ... will be of opinion that he (Strabo) distinguishes it from his “Itium”.’ In other words, Guest would translate the doubtful clause by ‘in whose country there is also the Itian (harbour)’.

I, for one, fully agree with Dr. Guest; but some scholars are unable to do so. Long,[2819] remarking that a similar use of καί, particularly in clauses which begin with a relative, as παρ’ οἷς, is common in Strabo and also in Thucydides, affirms that ‘the purpose of καί, when it is so used, is to mark emphatically some thing or circumstance in addition to one which has been mentioned’. Guest[2820] retorts that Xylander, in his Latin version of Strabo, first published in Casaubon’s edition of 1597, and revised by Siebenkees, who did not alter Xylander’s translation of the passage in question, and Groskurd, in his German version of 1831—‘the most careful and conscientious translation of Strabo that has yet appeared’—both render καί by ‘also’. This array of authorities does not disconcert Long. He remarks[2821] that the old Latin versions of Strabo and other Greek writers, although they were very useful in their day, ‘are not of much value when there is any great difficulty.’ Groskurd’s translation—‘wo auch der Hafen Ition ist’—he regards as ambiguous. Had Groskurd desired to express, in his translation, that Strabo meant to affirm the existence of another harbour, besides those which he had just mentioned, he would have written, not ‘wo auch’, but ‘wo ebenfalls’ (der Hafen Ition ist). But, says Long, ‘Strabo mentions four usual points of transit from Gallia to Britain, and if in this passage he means that there was another besides the Itius, then there would be five points of transit instead of four, and Strabo would contradict himself.’[2822] Long then quotes two passages in support of his interpretation of καί. ‘Strabo,’ he remarks, ‘says that Sinuessa is in the gulf of Setia, and adds ἀφ’ οὗ καὶ τὸ ὄνομα.[2823] Groskurd translates καί by “auch”, which has no meaning here.... Again, Strabo, speaking of the high Alps, says περὶ ὃ δὴ καὶ συνίσταντο οἱ λῃσταί;[2824] which Groskurd translates, “die Gipfel, um welche denn auch die Räuber sassen.” Xylander simply says “ubi degebant latrones”, which I prefer to Groskurd’s version, though Xylander’s version is not quite exact.’

To these arguments Guest made no reply; but Heller[2825] did so. He admits that Thucydides, in relative sentences, often did use καί in the sense which Long claims for it; but this sense, he maintains, is restricted to phrases of which the meaning is unmistakable.

If Strabo did really mean to say that the Itian port was different from that port of the Morini which was commonly used as the point of departure for Britain, then I can only say that I believe, with Rudolf Schneider,[2826] that Strabo was mistaken. As Caesar was the only other ancient writer who mentioned the Portus Itius, and as he did not say exactly where it was, it would have been quite natural for Strabo to suppose that the Portus Itius was not the same as the well-known port of the Morini.

4. Finally, it has been affirmed by Henry[2827] and many other writers that the so-called ‘Camp de César’ and the various hillocks known as ‘mottes’ which are to be found in the neighbourhood of Wissant were defensive works erected by Caesar or his lieutenants for the protection of the Portus Itius; and de Saulcy tells us that an inhabitant of Wissant, whose trustworthiness he had proved, informed him that about two kilometres north-east of the village, at Haute-Sombre, there existed a camp several hectares in extent, in which, he says, ‘il faudra reconnaître le camp des trois légions et des deux mille cavaliers de Labienus.’[2828]

All these allegations have been disproved. The so-called tradition which ascribed the ‘Camp de César’ to the invader of Britain originated in the eighteenth century:[2829] at all events it is not mentioned by any of the earlier advocates of Wissant; and the camp has been proved to be of post-Roman date.[2830] Moreover, its area is not more than 50 ares 30 centiares, or 6,016 square yards, less than one acre and a quarter, which would not have sufficed to accommodate more than 500 men.[2831] As for the ‘mottes’, they have been excavated, and have been proved to be simply tumuli, which contained skeletons, flint implements, and bone pins. And the Abbé Haigneré[2832] has shown, in an amusing paragraph, that the so-called camp of Labienus, which, needless to say, is not marked on the Carte de l’État-Major, is purely imaginary.

Every argument which has been adduced in favour of Wissant has now been examined; and if I could have accepted them or any one of them, I would gladly have done so, for I myself once argued that the Portus Itius was at Wissant. But my knowledge was then imperfect. It is not possible to prove that the Portus Itius was at Wissant: it is possible to prove that it was not.

1. Although Wissant is nearer to England than Boulogne, yet Caesar would have gained nothing, even in regard to his mere voyage, by making Wissant his place of departure. Captain Iron, the harbour-master of Dover, unhesitatingly affirmed, after we had studied the chart together, that the fleet would have ‘made a better run’ from Boulogne than from Wissant. The reader will have no difficulty in understanding this if he will consult the Admiralty Chart (Dungeness to the Thames), and the Atlas entitled Tidal Streams in the English and Irish Channels. It must be remembered that both in 55 and in 54 B.C. Caesar started from Gaul when the tide was running down the Channel; and that on his first voyage the tide turned north-eastward between 4.30 and 5 a.m., when he had been three or four hours at sea, and on his second about 9.30 p.m., two hours or so after he had set sail. Thus, on each occasion, the latter and greater portion of the voyage was made on the flood tide.[2833]

Wauters does indeed succeed in proving that, in the middle ages, Wissant was very frequently used as a place of embarkation by travellers, merchants, and even troops sailing for the opposite coast;[2834] and the point of his argument is that if, in the middle ages, a large army could embark at Wissant, Caesar’s army could have done the same; and that if Wissant was a convenient point of departure for a voyage to Britain in the middle ages, it was not less convenient in the time of Caesar. Haigneré[2835] retorts, truly enough, that the quantity of merchandise which passed through the port at any one time was very small, and that, as a rule, not more than two or three vessels left the port simultaneously; but when he affirms[2836] that the largest army which ever sailed from Wissant was a force of 2,000 men, which John of Hainault led in 1327 to assist Edward the Third against the Scots,[2837] he lays himself open to criticism. Wauters[2838] replies that the force with which the Earl of Leicester sailed from Wissant in 1173 must have been very large; for in the battle of Fornham, in which the earl suffered defeat soon after he had landed in Suffolk, 10,000 of his men were killed. This statement, which was accepted by the late Bishop of Oxford,[2839] was made on the authority of Benedict of Peterborough,[2840] who also describes the army of the Earl of Leicester as infinitus exercitus. But (if we are to accept the statement of a mediaeval monk as to the number of men who were killed in a battle) Benedict does not say that the army set sail from Wissant, while Ralph de Diceto[2841] merely says that the Earl of Leicester embarked in a ship at Wissant, accompanied by a numerous band (venit apud Witsant, ubi ... plurima comitante caterva, navem ascendit); and, assuming that the troops all embarked at Wissant, there is no evidence that all the transports which carried them sailed together. It is generally admitted even by the partisans of Wissant (though not by Dr. Guest) that the mediaeval port was merely the creek formed by the Rieu d’Herlan, otherwise called Rieu de Sombre; and if it is true that an army which lost 10,000 men in a single battle embarked at Wissant in 1173, the bulk of the ships which carried it must have been anchored in the roadstead. The frequency with which Wissant was used as a place of embarkation in the middle ages undoubtedly proves that it was convenient, and this fact has been slurred over by the advocates of Boulogne; but it nevertheless remains certain that Caesar would not have found it convenient to sail from Wissant when the greater part of his voyage would have to be made upon the eastward stream, and with a south-west wind. At the same time I admit that we do not know from what quarter the wind was blowing in his first voyage: we only know that when he set sail it was favourable.[2842]

2. There is another objection to Wissant, which Dr. Guest, if he had been consistent, would have been the first to urge. Like all the other advocates of Wissant, he identifies the superior portus with Sangatte. Yet he tells us himself that it is hard to see how there could ever have been a harbour at Sangatte.[2843] Similarly, H. L. Long, himself an advocate of Wissant, who was well acquainted with the coast between Boulogne and Calais, observes that ‘as a port, in our acceptation of the term, Sangatte has fewer pretensions ... than even Wissant; but still it is, and always has been a small station’.[2844] The theory that it was a naval station is no doubt supported by the fact that it was the terminus of a Roman road: but Caesar speaks of a portus; and when Dr. Guest has to confute George Long, he is most emphatic in insisting that portus means ‘a harbour’ in the strictest sense of the word.[2845]

Let us, however, assume that Sangatte may conceivably have possessed a harbour in Caesar’s time. Even so, it is impossible to admit that Sangatte can have been the superior portus. For, if the eighteen ships which carried the cavalry had started from Sangatte, the conditions of wind and tide which would have rendered a voyage from Wissant to Kent less favourable than from Boulogne would obviously have been more unfavourable still.

3. There is one passage in Caesar’s narrative which, to a sailor, would be alone sufficient to prove that Wissant was not the port from which Caesar sailed in 55 B.C. We have seen that the gale which drove some of the cavalry transports from the point where they were first sighted westward down the coast carried the others back to the port from which they had started. I will assume that the latter were laid to on the port tack:[2846] if they could not work to windward, a glance at the map will show that they could not have returned to any point east of Wissant. The gale must obviously have blown from some point between the east and the north; and, if Caesar sailed from Wissant, the place from which the transports started must, as we have seen, have been Sangatte. Now it is absolutely incredible that a gale which drove some of these ships from a point near the South Foreland[2847] westward down the coast should have carried the others back to Sangatte. Caesar says that the former were ‘in great peril’, and that, when they anchored, the waves broke over them. A sailor would at once understand what their peril was. They were in no danger of being driven ashore; for while the gale was at its height they stood out to sea.[2848] They ran before the wind; and they were in danger either of broaching to or, possibly, of being ‘pooped’.[2849] From this we should conclude that the wind, when it struck the ships somewhere east or north-east of the South Foreland,[2850] blew from about the north-east: indeed, as the waves broke over the ships, it may have blown from north-east by east; for, if it had blown from the north-east or north-east by north, the ships, if they anchored close in shore, west of Folkestone, would have been in a sheltered position.[2851] The most easterly point at which they can be assumed to have been when they were caught by the gale is NW. 4° N. of Sangatte. Therefore if the wind had blown from the north-east, the ships that were carried back to the port from which they had started would have had to sail within less than eight points and a half of it in order to reach Sangatte. But, as Falconer[2852] says, a ship laid to in a gale makes from 5½ to 6½ points of lee-way. Reduce this estimate to four, and you will see that the transports would have had to lie within less than four points and a half of the wind in order to make Sangatte. No ancient ship could have done this. Close-hauled and under short canvas, as they would necessarily have been, the transports, as Commander Richmond remarked to me, would ‘just have sagged to leeward’. It may be objected that the tide would have helped them if it was running up the Channel. But the flood tide is almost neutralized by a north-easterly gale, and simply makes the sea more vicious: the ships would have moved so slowly that they could not have crossed the Channel in one tide; and when it turned and began to sweep them westward, their prospect of reaching Sangatte would have been more hopeless than ever. With a north-easterly gale, or even one which blew from north-east by north, it would have been absolutely impossible, so Commander Richmond and the harbour-master of Dover have separately and independently affirmed, for the vessels to fetch that anchorage.[2853]

4. Desjardins[2854] shows that, whereas four Roman roads, meeting at Gesoriacum, are mentioned in the itineraries,[2855] not a single Roman road led to Wissant. The advocates of Wissant have, indeed, replied that this proves nothing, since, in Caesar’s time, there were no Roman roads in any part of Gaul.[2856] But this reply is nugatory. Since no Roman roads led to Wissant, it is clear that if Wissant was the Portus Itius, this harbour, which Caesar had ascertained to be ‘the most convenient’ port of departure for Britain, was regarded by his successors as useless. Such a hypothesis is not tenable.

5. The mention of roads suggests another objection to Wissant. We have seen that Caesar’s army, consisting of five legions and 2,000 cavalry, remained weatherbound at the Portus Itius in 54 B.C. for about twenty-five days; and that with them were three other legions and 2,000 cavalry, who were left behind under the command of Labienus to guard the ports during Caesar’s absence.[2857] Thus for twenty-five days a force amounting to at least 32,000 men and 4,000 horses had to be fed; and of these not less than 12,500 men and 2,000 horses for about ten weeks more.[2858] No calculation is needed to show that these multitudes could not possibly have been supplied by the country in the neighbourhood of Wissant, even if it were as fertile as (according to Dr. Guest himself) it is ‘notoriously barren’.[2859] Their food must have come from a distance; and to transport it to Wissant without roads would have been a task of extreme difficulty. Dr. Guest assumes that Caesar’s fleet would have supplied his wants.[2860] But the fleet could only have procured grain from a port. Surely, then, Caesar would have found it most convenient to start from a port which was in communication by road or by river with the interior. Such a port was Boulogne, which enjoyed both these means of transit. What would have been gained by abandoning it for the isolated Wissant?

Again, it will be remembered that Labienus built sixty ships during Caesar’s absence in Britain;[2861] and we have seen that most of the modern advocates of Wissant admit that there was no harbour there, except the tiny creek formed by the ruisseau d’Herlan, or possibly a roadstead which may have been partially sheltered by the Banc de Laine. Not one of them has attempted to explain how Labienus could have found the means of building sixty ships upon an exposed beach. But let us admit that his genius could have improvised dockyards.[2862] Let us even admit that the harbour of Dr. Guest’s imagination did really exist. Still, sixty ships cannot be built without timber. How was all this timber to be brought to Wissant without roads and without a river? Even assuming that there was a Gallic road, it is doubtful whether Labienus could have impressed the amount of carriage necessary to transport the timber from the forests. But a few miles off at Boulogne the difficulty would have disappeared.[2863]

6. Another objection is so obvious that it must impress every candid inquirer. If Wissant was the Portus Itius, why was Wissant never once mentioned during the first millennium of our era? There is no evidence worthy of the name that it was used as a port before the year 1013.[2864] It is surely inexplicable that the port which Caesar regarded as the most convenient for his purpose should have been found so inconvenient or so superfluous by his successors that during the imperial epoch it fell into entire disuse. Wauters indeed retorts that if Wissant was eclipsed by Gesoriacum under the Empire, so was the Gallic town of Bibracte by the Gallo-Roman Augustodunum, and that, although the naval station was Gesoriacum, Wissant may have been a great commercial port.[2865] But he omits to explain how a great commercial port could have been left unnoticed by history, or how it could have existed without a river and roads to connect it with the interior. Nor is there any analogy between Wissant and Bibracte. The hill-fort of Bibracte gradually fell into disuse because when Gaul settled down under the Roman dominion it was no longer required.[2866]

7. Finally, Mariette[2867] argues that the mere name of Wissant, which, like the names of many other villages in the Boulonnais, is of German origin, proves that it was not founded before the fifth century, and consequently that there could have been no frequented harbour there in Caesar’s time.

It has now been demonstrated that Caesar did not sail from Wissant. That it was the point of departure of his first expedition is out of the question; for in that case the portus ulterior, from which the cavalry transports set sail, must have been Sangatte; and we have seen that they could not have returned to Sangatte when they were dispersed by the gale. The portus ulterior can only have been Ambleteuse; and therefore Caesar sailed in 55 B.C. from Boulogne. But nobody will believe that, having had experience of the advantages of Boulogne, he would have discarded it in favour of a place which, for his purpose, was in all respects inferior.

Nevertheless, to satisfy doubters, I shall state the case for and against Boulogne.