A History of Rome During the Later Republic and Early Principate

by A. H. J. Greenidge

The object of the Roman general was to keep in touch with the sea for the purpose of facilitating the supply of his army. But we cannot say whether his original choice was a station so distant as the neighbourhood of Cirta,[1150] or whether his movement in this direction, which severed him by some hundreds of miles from the region which he had lately commanded, was a measure forced on him by the danger to which his army was exposed in the distant west from the overwhelming forces of the enemy. He had at any rate covered a great stretch of territory before he actually came into touch with the combined forces of Bocchus and Jugurtha; for the almost continuous fighting that ensued, when once the armies had come into contact, seems all to have been confined to the last few days before Cirta was reached and to a period of time which could have formed but a small fraction of the whole duration of the march. The first attack was planned for the closing hours of the day.[1151] The advent of night would be of advantage to the native force whether they were victorious or defeated. In the first case their knowledge of the ground would enable them to follow up their success, in the second their retreat would be secured. Under all circumstances a struggle in the darkness must increase the difficulties of the Romans. A complete surprise was impossible, for Marius's scouting was good, and from all directions horsemen dashed up to tell him the enemy was at hand. But the quarter from which such an attack would be aimed could not be determined, and so incredibly rapid were the movements of the Moorish and Gaetulian horse that scarcely had the last messenger ridden up when the Roman column was assailed on every side. The Roman army had no time to form in line, and anything approaching battle array was scorned by the enemy. They charged in separate squadrons, the formation of which seemed to be due to chance as much as to design; this desultory mode of attack enabled them to assail the Roman forces at every point and to prevent any portion of the men from acquiring the stability that might save the helplessness of the others; they harried the legionaries as they shifted their heavy baggage, drew their swords and hurried into line, and the cavalry soldiers as they strove to mount their frightened horses. Horse and foot were inextricably mixed, and no one could tell which was the van and which the rear of the surrounded army. The general fought like a common soldier, but he did not forget the duties of a commander. With his chosen troop of horse he rode up and down the field, detecting the weak points of his own men, the strong points of the enemy, lending a timely succour to the first and throwing his weight against the second.[1152] But it was the experience of the well-trained legionaries that saved the day. Schooled in such surprises, they began to form small solid squares, and against these barriers the impact of the light horsemen beat in vain.[1153] But night was drawing on—the hour which the allied kings had chosen as the crowning moment of their attack—and Marius was as fully conscious as his enemies how helpless the Roman force would be if such a struggle were protracted into the darkness. Fortunately the place of the attack had been badly chosen; the neighbouring ground did not present a wholly level expanse on which cavalry could operate at will. But a short distance from the scene of the fight two neighbouring hills could be seen to rise above the plain; the smaller possessed an abundant spring of water, the larger by its rugged aspect seemed to promise an admirable rampart for defence.[1154] It was impossible to withdraw the whole army to the elevation which contained the welcome stream, for its space did not permit of an encampment; but Marius instructed Sulla to seize it with the cavalry. He then began to draw his scattered infantry together, taking advantage of the disorder in the enemy which the last sturdy stand of the veterans had produced, and when the divisions were at last in touch with one another, he led the whole force at a quick march to the place which he had chosen for its retreat. The kings soon recognised that this retreat was unassailable; their plan of a night attack had failed; but they did not lose the hope that they held the Romans at their mercy. The fight had become a blockade; they would coop the Romans within their narrow limits, or force them to straggle on their way under a renewal of the same merciless assault. To have withstood the legions and occupied their ground, was itself a triumph for Gaetulians and Moors. They spread their long lines round either hill and lighted a great ring of watchfires; but their minds were set on passing the night in a manner conducive neither to sleep nor vigilance. They threw away their victory in a manner common to barbarism, which often lacks neither courage nor skill, but finds its nemesis in an utter lack of self-restraint. From the silent darkness of the ridge above the Romans could see, in the circles of red light thrown by the blazing watch-fires, the forms of their enemies in every attitude of careless and reckless joy; while the delirious howls of triumph which reached their ears, were a source, not of terror, but of hope. In the Roman camp no sound was heard; even the call of the patrol was hushed by the general's command.[1155] As the night wore on, the silence spread to the Plain below, but here it was the silence of the deep and profound sleep that comes on men wearied by the excesses of the night. Suddenly there was a terrific uproar. Every horn and trumpet in the Roman lines seemed to be alive, every throat to be swelling the clamour with ear-piercing yells. The Moors and Gaetulians, springing from the ground, found the enemy in their very midst. Where the slaughter ended, the pursuit began. No battle in the war had shown a larger amount of slain; for flight, which was the Numidian's salvation and the mockery of his foe, had been less possible in this conflict than in any which had gone before.

Marius continued his march, but with precautions even greater than those which he had previously observed. He formed his whole army into a "hollow square" [1156]—in fact, a great oblong, arranged equally for defence on front, flanks, and rear, while the baggage occupied the centre. Sulla with the cavalry rode on the extreme right; on the left was Aulus Manlius with the slingers and archers and some cohorts of Ligurians; the front and rear were covered by light infantry selected from the legions under the command of military tribunes. Numidian refugees scoured the country around, their knowledge of the land giving them a peculiar value as a scouting force. The camp was formed with the same scrupulous care; whole cohorts formed from legionaries kept watch against the gates, fortified posts were manned at short distances along the enclosing mound, and squadrons of auxiliary cavalry moved all night before the ramparts. Marius was to be seen at all points and at all hours, a living example of vigilance not of distrust, a master in the art of controlling men, not by terror but by sharing in their toils. Four days had the march progressed and Cirta was reported to be not far distant, when suddenly an ominous but now familiar sight was seen. Scouts were riding in on every hand; all reported an enemy, but none could say with certainty the quarter from which he might appear.[1157] The present disposition of the Roman troops had made the direction of the attack a matter of comparatively little moment, and Marius called a halt without making any change in the order of his march. Soon the enemy came down, and Jugurtha, when he saw the hollow square, knew that his plan had been partly foiled. He had divided his own forces into four divisions; some of these were to engage the Roman van; but some at least might be able to throw themselves at the critical moment on the undefended rear of the Roman column, when its attention was fully engaged by a frontal attack.[1158]

As things were, the Roman army presented no one point that seemed more assailable than another, and Jugurtha determined to engage with the Roman cavalry on the right, probably with the idea that by diverting that portion of the Roman force which was under the circumstances its strongest protecting arm, he might give an opportunity to his ally to lead that attack upon the rear which was to be the crowning movement of the day. His assault, which was directed near to the angle which the right flank made with the van, was anticipated rather than received by Sulla, who rapidly formed his force into two divisions, one for attack, the other for defence. The first he massed in dense squadrons, and at the head of these he charged the Moorish horse; the second stood their ground, covering themselves as best they could from the clouds of missiles that rose from the enemy's ranks, and slaughtering the daring horsemen that rode too near their lines. For a time it seemed as if the right flank and the van were to bear the brunt of the battle; the king was known to be there in person: and Marius, knowing what Jugurtha's presence meant, himself hastened to the front.

But suddenly the chief point of the attack was changed. Bocchus had been joined by a force of native infantry, which his son Volux had just brought upon the field. It was a force that had not yet known defeat, for some delay upon the route had prevented it from taking part in the former battle. With this infantry, and probably with a considerable body of Moorish horse,[1159] Bocchus threw himself upon the Roman rear. Neither the general nor his chief officers were present with the division that was thus attacked; Marius and Sulla were both engrossed with the struggle at the other end of the right wing, and Manlius seems still to have kept his position on the left flank; the absence of an inspiring mind amongst the troops assailed, their ignorance of the fate of their distant comrades, moved Jugurtha to lend the weight of his presence and his words to the efforts of his fellow king. With a handful of horsemen he quitted the main force under his command and galloped down the whole length of the right wing, until he wheeled his horse amidst the front ranks of the struggling infantry. He raised a sword streaming with blood and shouted in the Latin tongue that Marius had already fallen by his hand, that the Romans might now give up the struggle. The suggestion conveyed by his words shook the nerves even of those who did not credit the horrifying news,[1160] while the presence of the king, here as everywhere, stirred the Africans to their highest pitch of daring. They pressed the wavering Romans harder than before, the battle at this point had almost become a rout, when suddenly a large body of Roman horse was seen to be bearing down on the right flank of the Moorish infantry. They were led by Sulla, whose vigorous attacks had scattered the enemy on the right wing; he could now employ his cavalry for other purposes, and the Moorish infantry shook beneath the flank attack, Jugurtha refused to see that the tide of victory had turned; with a reckless courage he still strove to weld together the shattered forces of the Moors and to urge them against the Roman lines; his own escape was a miracle; men fell to left and right of him, he was pressed on both sides by the Roman horse; at times he seemed almost alone amidst his foes; yet at the last moment he vanished, and the capture which would have ended the war was still beyond the reach of Roman skill and prowess.[1161] Sulla had saved the day, the advent of Marius was but needed to put the final touches to the victory. He had seen the cavalry on the right scatter beneath the charges of the Roman horse, and almost at the same moment news was brought him that his men were being driven back upon the rear. His succour was scarcely needed, but his presence gave an impulse to pursuit. The sight of the field when that pursuit was at its height, lived ever in the minds of those who shared in its glory and its horror. The sickening spectacle which a hard fought battle yields, was protracted in this instance by the vast vista of the plains. Wherever the eye could reach there were prostrate bodies of men and horses, whose only claim to life was the writhing agony of their wounds; on a stage dyed red with blood and strewn with the furniture of shattered weapons little moving groups could be seen. The figures of these puppets showed all the phases of helpless flight, violent pursuit, and pitiless slaughter.

In spite of the carnage of this battlefield, victory here, as elsewhere throughout the war, meant little more than driving off the foe. We possess but a fragmentary record of this terrible retreat to Cirta, but it is certain that its dangers and losses were by no means exhausted in two pitched battles. A chance notice torn from its context[1162] tells of a third great contest which closed a long period of harassing attacks. Close to the walls of Cirta the Roman army was met by the two kings at the head of sixty thousand horse. The combatants were swathed in a cloud raised by the dust of battle, the Roman soldiers massed in a narrow space were such helpless victims of the missiles of the enemy that the Numidian and Moorish horsemen ceased to single out their targets, and threw their javelins at random into the crowded ranks with the certainty that each would find its mark. For three days was the running fight continued. A charge was impossible against the volleys of the foe, and retreat was cut off by the multitude of light horsemen that hemmed the army in on every side. In the last desperate effort which Marius made to free himself from the meshes of the kings, even the centre of his column shook under the hail of missiles that assailed it, and to the weapons of the enemy were soon added the terrors of blinding heat and intolerable thirst. Suddenly a storm broke over the warring hosts. It cooled the throats of the Romans and refreshed their limbs, while it lessened the power of their foes. The strapless javelins[1163] of the Numidians could not be hurled when wet, for they slipped from the hands of the thrower; their shields of elephants' hide absorbed water like a sponge and weighed down the arms on which they hung. The Moors and Numidians, seeing that even their means of defence had failed them, took to flight: but only to appear on another day with their army raised to ninety thousand and to repeat the attempt to surround the Roman host. This last effort ended in a signal victory for Marius. The forces of the two kings were not only defeated but almost destroyed.

The events thus recorded can scarcely be regarded as mere variants of the two battles which we have previously described. Vague and rhetorical as is the account which sets them forth, it shows that there were traditions of suffering and loss endured by the army of Marius such as found no parallel in the campaign of his predecessor. Marius had attempted what Metellus had never dared—a campaign in the far west of Numidia. Its results were fruitless successes of the paladin type followed by a burdensome and disastrous retreat. The west was lost, the east was threatened, yet the lesson was not without its fruit. The general when he reached the walls of Cirta had lost something of his hardy faith in the use of blood and iron; he was more ready to appeal to the motives which make for peace, to pretend a trust he did not feel, to make promises which might induce the fluid treachery of Bocchus to harden into a definite act of treason to his brother king, above all, to lean on some other man who could play the delicate game of diplomatic fence with a cunning which his own straightforward methods could not attain. Everything depended on the attitude of the King of Mauretania; and here again the campaign had not been without some healthful consequences. If the Romans had gained no material advantage, Bocchus had suffered some very material losses. His forces had been cut up, the stigma of failure attached (perhaps for the first time) to their leader, the first contact with the Romans had not been encouraging to his subjects. And the campaign may also have revealed the difficulty, if not the hopelessness, of Jugurtha's cause. The plan of driving the Romans from Africa could not be perfected even with the combined forces of the two kingdoms at their fullest strength; however much they might harass, they had proved themselves utterly unable to attain such a success as even the most complacent patriotism could name a victory; while the sturdiness of the resistance of Rome seemed to banish the hypothesis that Jugurtha would be included in any terms that might be made. Yet the campaign had left Bocchus in an excellent position for negotiation. He had shown that Mauretania was a great make-weight in the scale against Rome; he had advertised his power as an enemy, his value as an ally; now was the time to see whether the power and the value, so long ignored, would be appreciated by Rome.

But five days are said to have elapsed since the last great conflict with the Moors when envoys from Bocchus waited on Marius in his winter quarters at Cirta.[1164] The request which they brought was that "two of the Roman general's most trusty friends should wait on the king, who desired to speak with them on a matter of interest to himself and the Roman people".[1165] Marius forthwith singled out Sulla and Manlius, who followed the envoys to the place of meeting that had been arranged. On the way it was agreed by the representatives of Rome that they should not wait for the king to open the discussion. Hitherto every proposal had come from Bocchus; he had been played with, but never given a straightforward answer, still less a sign of real encouragement. Yet no good could be gained by expecting the king to assume a grovelling attitude, by forcing him to begin proposals for peace with a confession of his own humiliation. It would be far wiser if the commissioners opened with a few spontaneous remarks which might restore rest and dignity to the royal mind. Manlius the elder readily yielded the place of first speaker to the more facile Sulla. If the words which history has attributed to the quaestor[1166] were really used by him, they are a record of one of those rare instances in which a diplomatist is able to tell the naked truth. Sulla began by dwelling on the joy which he and his friends derived from the change in Bocchus's mind—from the heaven-sent inspiration which had taught the king that peace was preferable to war. He then dwelt on the fact, which he might have adduced the whole of his country's history to prove, that Rome had been ever keener in the search for friends than subjects, that the Republic had ever deemed voluntary allegiance safer than that compelled by force. He showed that Roman friendship might be a boon, not a burden, to Bocchus; the distance of his kingdom from the capital would obviate a conflict of interests, but no distance was too great to be traversed by the gratitude of Rome. Bocchus had already seen what Rome could do in war; all that he needed to learn was the still greater lesson that her generosity was as unconquerable as her arms. Sulla's words were a genuine statement of the whole theory of the Protectorate, as it was held and even acted on at this period of history. As a proof of the ruinous lengths to which Roman generosity might proceed, he could have pointed to the Numidian war now in the sixth year of its disastrous course. The darker side of the Protectorate—the rapacity of the individual adventurer—was no creation of the government, and needed not to be reproduced on the canvas of the bright picture which he drew. The hopes held out to Bocchus were genuine enough; the burden of his alliance was but slight, its security immense.

The king seemed impressed by the gracious overtures of the commissioners. His answer was not only friendly, but apologetic.[1167] He urged that he had not taken up arms in any spirit of hostility to Rome, but simply for the purpose of defending his own frontiers. He claimed that the territory near the Muluccha, which had been harried by Marius, did not belong to Jugurtha at all. He had expelled the Numidian king from this region and it was his by the right of war. He appealed finally to the fact of his own former embassy to Rome: he had made a genuine effort to secure her friendship, but this had been repulsed.[1168] He was, however, willing to forget the past; and, if Marius permitted, he would like to send a fresh embassy to the senate. This last request was provisionally granted by the commissioners; Bocchus, in making it, showed a wise and, in consideration of some of the events of this very war, a natural sense of the insecurity of the promises made by Roman commanders, at the same time as he exhibited a justifiable faith in a word once given by the great organ of the Republic. Yet, when the commissioners had taken their departure, his old hesitancy seemed to revive. He consented at least to listen to those of his advisers who still urged the claims of Jugurtha.[1169] They had raised their voices again, either at the time when the Roman commissioners were waiting on Bocchus, or immediately after their departure; for Jugurtha had no sooner learnt of his father-in-law's renewed negotiations with Rome than he had used every means (amongst others, we are told, that of costly gifts) to induce his Mauretanian supporters to advocate his cause.

A further stage in the negotiations was reached before the winter season was over, although it is probable that, at the time when this next step was taken by the Mauretanian king, the new year had been passed and the advent of spring was not far off. Marius, who was not fettered in his operations by respect for the traditional seasons which were deemed suitable to a campaign, had started with some flying columns of infantry and a portion of the cavalry to some desert spot, with a view to besiege a fortress still held by Jugurtha, and garrisoned by all the deserters from the Roman army who were now in the king's service. Sulla had been left with the usual title of pro-praetor to represent his absent commander. To the headquarters of the winter camp[1170] Bocchus now sent five of his closest friends, men chosen for their approved loyalty and ability.[1171] His last access of hesitancy, if it were more than a semblance, had certainly been shortlived, and the envoys were given full powers to arrange the terms of peace. They had set out with all speed to reach the Roman winter camp, but their journey had been long and painful. They had been seized and plundered on the route by Gaetulian brigands, and now appeared panic-stricken and in miserable plight before the representative of Rome. Stripped of their credentials and the symbols of their high office, they expected to be treated as vagrant impostors from a hostile state; Sulla received them with the lavish dignity that might be the due of princes. The simple nomads felt the charm and the surprise of this first glimpse of the public manners of Rome. Was it possible that these kindly and courteous men were the spoilers of the world? The rumour must be the false invention of the enemies of the bounteous Republic. The untrained mind rapidly argues from the part to the whole, and Sulla's tact had done a great service to his country. He had also established a claim on the Mauretanian king,[1172] and this personal tie was not to be without its consequences.

The envoys revealed to the quaestor the instructions of their master, and asked his help and advice in the mission that lay before them. They dwelt with pardonable pride on the wealth, the magnificence, and the honour of their king, and dilated on every point in which the alliance with such a potentate was likely to serve the cause of Rome.[1173] Sulla promised them the plenitude of his help; he instructed them in the mode in which they should address Marius, in which they should approach the senate, and continued to be their host for forty days, until his commander was ready to listen to their proposals and forward them on their way. When Marius returned to Cirta after the successful completion of his brief campaign, and heard of the arrival of the envoys, he asked Sulla to bring them[1174] to his quarters, and made preparations for assembling as formal a council as the resources of the province permitted. A praetor happened to be within its limits and several men of senatorial rank. All these sat to listen to the proposals made by Bocchus. The verdict of the council was in favour of the genuineness of the king's appeal, and the proconsul granted the envoys permission to make their way to Rome. They asked an armistice for their king[1175] until the mission should be completed. Loud and angry voices were heard in protest—the voices of the narrow and suspicious men who are haunted by the fixed conviction that a request for a cessation of hostilities is always a treacherous attempt at renewed preparations for war. But Sulla and the majority of the board supported the request of the envoys, and the wiser counsel at length prevailed. The embassy now divided; two of its members returned to their king, while three were escorted to Rome by Cnaeus Octavius Ruso, a quaestor who had brought the last instalment of pay for the army and was ready for his return homewards. The language of the envoys before the Roman senate assumed the apologetic tone which had been suggested by Sulla. Their king, they said, had erred; Jugurtha had been the cause of this error. Their master asked that Rome should admit him to treaty relations with herself, that she should call him her friend. It is not impossible that these negotiations had a secret history; that Bocchus was told of some very material reward that he might expect, if Jugurtha were surrendered. But the assumption is not necessary. The magic of the name of Rome had fired the imagination of the African king at the commencement of the struggle; now that his fears were quieted, the end, in whatever form it was attained, may have seemed supremely desirable in itself. His envoys had been schooled by Sulla to expect much more than was promised and to read the senate's words aright. Certainly, if a prize had been offered for Bocchus's fidelity, the offer was carefully concealed. The official form in which the government accepted the petitioner's request, granted a free pardon and expressed a cold probation. "The senate and Roman people (so ran the resolution) are used to be mindful of good service and of wrongs. Since Bocchus is penitent for the past, they excuse his fault. He will be granted a treaty and the name of friend, when he has proved that he deserves the grant." [1176]