DRUIDS INCITING THE BRITONS TO OPPOSE THE LANDING OF THE ROMANS. (See p. [6])

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On the first news of the intended descent, the Britons, excited by the Druids and Bards, assembled in arms, in order to defend their coasts, but at the same time did not neglect other means of warding off the danger which threatened their independence, and despatched ambassadors to Cæsar with offers of alliance. They were received courteously, although the wily Roman knew that, incited by their priests, they had arrested his messenger, and kept him in chains. Meanwhile Cæsar prepared his fleet, and assembled his soldiers for the expedition. He embarked the infantry of two of his legions in eighty vessels, which he assembled at Itius Portus, supposed by some writers to be Calais, by others the village of Wissant, between that place and Boulogne. He divided the vessels amongst his principal officers, and set sail with a favourable wind during the night. Eighteen galleys at a distant part of the coast had received his cavalry, and sailed about the same time. At ten the following morning the expedition appeared off the coast, where the inhabitants were seen in arms, ready to receive it. The spot, it would seem, was unfavourable for landing, and Cæsar hesitated, and dropped anchor till three in the afternoon, hoping for the arrival of his other galleys. Disappointed in this expectation, he sailed along the coast, and finally decided on disembarking at Deal, where the shore was comparatively level, and presented less difficulty for such an enterprise. But here, too, the Britons were prepared, a considerable force being collected to oppose him. The galleys drew too much water to permit the invaders to land at once upon the beach, and the soldiers hesitated. There was a momentary confusion amongst them. "Follow me, comrades!" exclaimed the standard-bearer, "if you would not see the eagle in the hands of the enemy. For myself, if I perish, I shall have done my duty to Rome and to my general." At these words he plunged into the waves, and was followed by the men, who leaped tumultuously after him, ashamed, most likely, of their previous cowardice and hesitation. On reaching the shore, they fell with the utmost fury on the enemy, whose undisciplined ranks could ill sustain the shock of the Roman legion; still, they fought desperately, incited by their bards and priests, who sang the songs of victory, and exhorted them to renew the combat each time they seemed to waver. At last they were compelled to give way, and retreat to the shelter of the woods, with their chariots and broken ranks. Cæsar himself informs us that he was prevented from pursuing the victory by the absence of his cavalry, a circumstance which he bitterly laments, since its presence alone was wanting to crown his fortune.

Although he did not venture to follow the fugitives, they sent ambassadors, accompanied by Commius, whom the Britons released from prison and chains, to sue for peace. The victor complained, and with some show of justice, of the reception he had met with, after they had sent envoys to him in Gaul with offers of submission, and also of the arrest of his ambassador; and lamented the blood that had been shed. To this harangue the Britons artfully replied that they had imprisoned Commius in order to preserve him from the fury of the people, and with this excuse Cæsar either was, or affected to be, content. He granted the peace they came to solicit, and demanded hostages, which were promised, for the future.

A storm dispersed the eighteen galleys which were to transport the cavalry of Cæsar, and drove them back upon the coast of Gaul. This was not the only misfortune the Romans endured. That same night the moon was at its full; it was the season of the equinox, and the tide rose to an unusual height, filling the vessels which Cæsar had drawn out of the reach of danger, as he imagined, on the sands. The larger ships, which had served him as a means of transport, were driven from their anchors, and many of them wrecked.

Although perfectly aware of the perils which menaced their invaders, the Britons appear to have proceeded with the utmost caution. Whilst a league was secretly being formed to crush the Romans, their chiefs appeared daily in their camp, professing unbroken friendship. Suddenly they fell upon the seventh legion, which had been sent to a distance to forage. The plan was well contrived to defeat the enemy in detail. Many of their leaders remained in camp, in order to lull suspicion, whilst their confederates surprised the Romans, who, having laid aside their arms, were soon surrounded, and must have been cut off but for the timely arrival of Cæsar, who, warned by his outposts that a cloud of dust thicker than usual had been seen at a distance, guessed immediately what had occurred. With a portion of his army he fell upon the assailants, and, after a desperate struggle, disengaged the threatened legion, and returned with it to the camp in safety. The lesson was a sharp one, and the rains soon afterwards setting in, the invader did not attempt to renew the battle.

The islanders, meanwhile, had not been idle: messengers had been despatched in every direction, calling on the various nations to take arms; the Druids preached war to the death; and a sufficient force was soon assembled to attack the Romans in their camp. Discipline, however, again prevailed against the courage of the barbarians, as Tacitus contemptuously calls them; although he admits at the same time their bravery, and adds that it was a fortunate thing for Cæsar that the country was so divided into petty states that the jealousies of their respective rulers prevented the unity of action which alone could ensure success. Had the Britons been united, they might have bid defiance to the legions of Rome. Once more the islanders demanded peace, which Cæsar granted them; in fact, he was scarcely in a position to do otherwise, for he already meditated a retreat. He embarked the army suddenly in the night, and retired to Gaul, taking the hostages he had received with him. Although the senate of Rome ordered a thanksgiving of twenty days for the triumph of the Roman arms, the first expedition against the island cannot be regarded as other than a failure.

For the second invasion, which took place in the following year, preparations were made commensurate with the importance of the task proposed. Cæsar having assembled 800 vessels, on board of which were five legions, and 2,000 horsemen of the noblest families in Gaul, set sail, and landed without opposition at Ryde. This time there was no enemy to oppose him; for the Britons, terrified at the appearance of this immense armament, had retreated to their natural fastnesses, the forests. Leaving ten cohorts and 300 horsemen to guard the camp and fleet, under the orders of Quintus Atrius, Cæsar set forward in search of the enemy, whom he discovered, after a march of twelve miles, on the banks of a river, where they had drawn up their chariots and horsemen. Profiting by their elevated position, they accepted, or rather engaged, the combat, and when repulsed withdrew into an admirably fortified camp, which was not taken without much difficulty. The Britons, as usual after a defeat, retreated once more to their woods, where it was impossible for the legions of Rome to follow, or the cavalry to act against them.

On the following morning, just as the victorious leader was about to re-commence his march, news arrived from the camp that a violent tempest had seriously damaged the fleet. Many of his vessels were wrecked, and others rendered unfit for service. Like a prudent general, Cæsar at once returned to the camp, to assure himself of the extent of the injury done to his fleet, and found it more considerable than he imagined. Forty vessels were lost; the rest could be repaired, though not without great labour and time. Every artificer in his army was set to work; others were sent for from the continent; and instructions written to Labienus in Gaul to construct new galleys to replace those which were lost. The next step was worthy the genius and reputation of Cæsar. After having repaired his ships, he caused his legions to draw them out of reach of the tide, high up on the shore, and enclosed the whole of them in a fortified camp—an immense work, when we consider that it was executed in an enemy's country, and the scanty means at his command for such an undertaking.

Meanwhile the Britons had united under Cassivelaunus, head-king of the tribes north of the Thames, and Cæsar advanced to meet him. The king proved a doughty opponent, seldom venturing upon a pitched battle, but harassing the Romans by sudden attacks, in which the chariots proved particularly formidable. At length Cæsar managed, with difficulty, to cross the Thames somewhere above London, and ravaged the king's territory. Fortunately the powerful tribe of the Trinobantes, who inhabited part of Middlesex and Essex, came over to him at this juncture, having old scores to pay off against Cassivelaunus, and they were followed by other tribes. Cæsar was therefore able to storm Verulam, the stronghold of the British king, and then, finding that his camp on the coast was being besieged by the four kings of Kent, that his troops were being wearied out by the constant alarms, and having, in addition, received unpleasant news from Gaul, he accepted the offers of peace made by Cassivelaunus, and departed. So ended Cæsar's invasions of Britain.