The Finale — De Bello Gallico - Part 8
The Final Episode of an 8 part series on Caesar's Gallic Wars...
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Meanwhile…
Caesar ties all loose ends in his Gallic Campaign, in part 8, the final episode of our series on Caesar’s masterwork of psychology, strategy, and propaganda: On the Gallic War (De Bello Gallico).
This is a world-history making story (the conquest of what’s now modern France), told by a world-history making storyteller.
Caesar entered Gaul as a mere politician. He returned 9 years later as a conqueror - and an enemy of the state. He tells how it all happened with his own pen.
In this episode:
Final skirmishes with the Bituriges and the Carnutes
Siege of a hill-fort, and Caesar takes arms (literally)
Conclusion of a bloody chapter, and some takeaways
Cost of Glory is an Infinite Media production — and big thanks to Dr. Richard Johnson of the great city of New York for sponsoring this episode and many others in this series!
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You can listen to the episode here:
Stay Ancient,
Alex
Transcript
“Caesar's writings are action; he was capable of thought only in action. This does not make them more implausible, as romantic sensitiveness or aged wisdom may warn us, but truer... A Caesar, a Napoleon, beholds himself as he would appear to others... No great man practices petty deception”
— Friedrich Gundolf, “The Mantle of Caesar”1
Those are the thoughts of Friedrich Gundolf, one of Caesar's great biographers, translated from the German.
Yes Caesar may spin the story in a particular way here and there. But I think what Gundolf is saying, is that, when it comes to portraying his own essence in his writings, Caesar sees himself with a rare truthfulness. In other words, in Caesar's commentaries, we may not get the whole picture of the Gallic wars (though, you have to admit, it's as accurate a depiction as most mortals could have managed). But we do nonetheless get, somehow, the fullness of the man himself.
And yet, for all that, after all we've covered on this show so far, we have only just begun to see what Caesar is capable of.
I'm Alex Petkas and you are listening to the Cost of Glory, where it is our mission to retell the lives of the great ancient Greek and Roman heroes, following the lead of the ancient philosopher Plutarch, the most heroic author, ever, in history, and where we occasionally get to allow the great heroes to tell the story themselves. This is part 8 of 8 of our series on Caesar's Gallic War Commentaries.
The name of the book that we opened quoting by the way is The Mantle of Caesar, again by Friedrich Gundolf. Originally published 1924, it tells the story mostly of the afterlife of Caesar's image, his ghost if you will, through European history. But he does begin with some fascinating insights about the man himself—highly recommended.
Now, with the defeat of Vercingetorix, in the year 52, that we covered last episode, in part 7, I think Caesar realized what certainly not everyone had, that the hard work of conquering Gaul was basically over.
There are 8 books in the Gallic Wars commentaries, and Caesar wrote 1-7, and somehow didn't bother to write book 8, even though he did write a whole other commentary, in 3 books, on the Civil War that followed ... Which maybe we'll cover soon if you're interested. Let me know.
And, mind you, we'll be doing a proper biography of Caesar's whole life soon, this has only been a highlight reel of his classic wartime commentaries.
Now, Book 8 that we're dealing with today was produced after Caesar died, by Caesar's friend Aulus Hirtius (or "Hirshuss") who was a real player in Roman politics that we'll meet more in the life of Cicero and Antony.
Even though it's not Caesar's writing, it's worth going over soem highlights because it's still Caesar acting, plus it kind of concludes the story we've covered so far.
So, the first part of this episode I'll give you the account Hirtius gives us, the goings on of the years 51 and also 50.
And then this is also good place to go into some recurring themes and takeaways I got for Caesar's campaigns, that we can apply in our own possibly more modest attempts to achieve big things and secure our legacy.
Hirtius’s Admiration of Caesar
Let's start with Hirtius' introduction to this book. Listen to this guy talk about the man he admired and his writing ability. Hirtius was one of Caesar's trusted officers, you have to imagine him riding next to Caesar on those blitz night marches, being in his tent when he's making his plans... looking over Caesar's shoulder at a makeshift map of Alesia... having dinner with the man himself.
What would it be like, to share the table with a world historical force like that?
Well, Hirtius begins his book here, book 8, by doing the typical ancient introduction “you know, I really didn't want to write, but my friends insisted.” And in fact the particular friend who insisted here, who he dedicates the book to, is a pretty noteworthy guy named Lucius Cornelius Balbus. This is a talented Spaniard made a citizen, right hand man of Caesar, went on to become the first foreign born (i.e. non citizen born) Roman Consul. More on him later.
Well I'll skip that verbiage and just get to what Hirtius says about his project here:
I hope my readers will realize how unwilling I was to take on the task of writing these works. This will help me avoid accusations of stupidity and arrogance for thrusting myself into the middle of Caesar's writings.
For it is universally agreed that nothing was ever so elaborately finished by others that is not surpassed by the refinement of these Commentaries...
In other words, other people go over draft and draft and file down their words... Caesar on the contrary he's going to explain, was different. Again, this is coming from a guy who was there as Caesar was in Gaul with him, and watched Caesar writing it all down, as it were:
Yet herein is our admiration greater than all other men's; the world knows how excellently, how faultlessly, but we know how easily, how speedily, he completed his Commentaries.
Caesar possessed not only the greatest facility and refinement of style, but also the surest skill in explaining his own plans.
Well, I think that flattering intro there gives you a sense of why Caesar was such an effective leader. He had ‘The Surest Skill’ in explaining his own plans. In other words, I think he's implying here that the same skill you see on display in writing the commentaries transferred to his ability to communicate with his subordinates.
He could quickly explain to them what he was going to do, how he was going to do it, and his motivations for doing it in precisely the way he did it. That's a great reminder of how powerful a tool writing is for leadership, it can help you clarify your thinking, and prepare you to convey it to your team.
And Caesar as we've seen could also perform that explaining work, that analysis, with surprising clarity, on his enemies too. Whether it's in predicting, like “Here's what I predict they're going to do, and why they're going to do it”, or in his taking the time to get the intelligence after the fact, so he can tell the story right, and, importantly learn from his enemies in as close to real time as possible, etc. Imagine deciding to go up against a guy like that, when he's at the height of his powers... wow.
The Year After Vercingetorix
Now then, the basic narrative of 51 BC is, a few rebellions flare up, of minor to moderate scale, and they are successively put down. I think it's worth zooming in on just a couple of episodes. First there's the Bituriges.
And Hirtius explains the Gauls reasoning there. Some of them are convinced, there's still a hope of throwing off the Roman yoke, even partially, by learning from the mistake they made last year. Namely: we all gathered in one place, and fought one big battle or two, and the Romans beat us. But, if we all rebel in a semi-coordinated way at the same time, all across Gaul, we'll spread the Romans very thin and be able to overwhelm them at least somewhere.
And this wasn't completely insane, the Romans' great advantage in general is in logistics, this is their way of getting over their typical great numerical inferiority, that they can stay in healthy fighting condition with good food and supplies and so on for longer than a giant horde of Gauls, and this gives them a strategic advantage.
The Bituriges again, are the first to try this. And Caesar, long story short, shows the fatal weakness in their strategy. Namely, they are up against the fastest man on the planet, when he's at the head of an army. He flies north, catches them off guard as soon as he hears about the rebellion (he avoids burning any farms or fields like the Romans usually do when they invade, because he wants it to be a total surprise). And they give up without even fighting.
Then, Hirtius explains, Caesar is particularly merciful and friendly, and accepts the remaining rebels back into Roman friendship.
So what’s this mean? Well, we've seen Caesar in the past often taking a hard line and provoking tribes into bigger conflicts, but his strategy has really shifted. He's now confident that he's basically won - and it's time to get these people accustomed to peace. Also, his 5 year command is ending some time late in the year 50, and he wants to be able to declare a clean victory, and wind things down and FINALLY get back to Rome…for the next steps.
And Caesar takes a more or less similar tack here, in the next flare up. This one is coordinated between the Bellovaci, the Carnutes, and the Suessiones as well... and it requires considerably more force, see book 8 for the details. But, in short, Caesar defeats them, makes treaties, tries to calm everything down. Just smoothing out the ruffled blanket.
There is one exception, however.
The Siege of Uxellodunum
But Hirtius spends the most time on a particularly thorny problem in southern France, not far outside the province, at a hill fort called Uxellodunum, which is something like 80 miles south of modern day Limoges.
Some tribes there rebel, and capture this strong fort. Caesar's got two subordinate generals on the case, who rush there, and they set up a siege, cut off supplies to the city, but the rebels have abundant supplies.
And so, things slow down to a stable standoff at Uxellodunum. But now, Caesar's pretty far away, and he's getting reports of all this. And here's what Caesar's thinking, according to Hirtius:
"Though he disregarded their small numbers [He's saying, on their own, they're really not a threat, for now], Caesar judged nevertheless that their obstinacy must be visited with a severe punishment, for he feared that the Gauls as a whole might suppose that what had been lacking in them for resisting the Romans was not strength, but resolution; and that the rest of the state might follow this example and rely on any advantage offered by strong positions to reassert their liberty. [And here's the important bit] All the Gauls were aware, as Caesar knew, that there was one more summer season in his term of office, and that, if they could hold out for that, they had no further danger to fear."
So if he lets this minor rebellion fester, it could start a domino effect and grow into a big rebellion.
So Caesar orders a couple of legions to meet him there, and then personally blitzes over to Uxellodunum with some cavalry, and the Roman commanders in place sieging the Gauls there are surprised one day to find Gaius Julius Himself show up at the gates of their camp, completely unannounced.
And he finds the siege is puttering along... of course... slowly... but the Gallic rebels again have lots of grain, and they also have access to a spring right by the walls and can keep themselves supplied indefinitely. Here's how he deals with this.
The whole host of enemy water-carriers assembled at one spot, immediately under the town wall. A great spring of water gushed out there, on the side where for an interval of about three hundred feet there was a break in the circuit of the river. All the Romans wished that the townsfolk could be cut off from this spring, but Caesar alone saw how it could be done. [Remember that's Hirtius talking, I don't think Caesar would have said it quite like that]. He began, just opposite the place, to push up mantlets against the hill and to build a ramp with great effort and continual fighting; for the townsfolk ran down from the higher ground and engaged without risk at long range, wounding many men as they doggedly worked upwards.
So he means, the Gauls can shoot arrows from way up high, out of range of Roman arrows, and they can provide cover for their own water carriers that way too, which is the chief difficulty that Caesar's facing:
However, our troops were not to be deterred from thrusting the mantlets forward and from defeating the local difficulties by sheer labour of engineering. At the same time they were pushing forward covered mines from the mantlets to the head of the spring; and this kind of work involved no risk, and could be done without suspicion on the part of the enemy. [So they are actually tunnelling into the rock to try to get to the source of the stream]. The ramp was built up to a height of sixty feet, and upon it was set a turret of ten stories, not, indeed, to reach the level of the walls, for no siege-works could effect that, but to overtop the level of the spring. When the artillery from the turret began to discharge missiles upon the line of approach to the spring, and the townsfolk could not get water without danger, not only cattle and beasts of burden, but even the great host of the enemy, were like to die of thirst.
And there's a pretty amazing point that the landmark editors note, archaeologists have actually found the tunnel Caesar dug... and Caesar doesn't mention this but there was also a Gallic counter-tunnel coming the other direction (and you can tell by the tool marks on the walls). Amazing.
Long story short they eventually take the town by storm, capture the walls, and the defenders surrender.
Then Caesar does something that you might think was a little uncharacteristic.
Caesar's clemency, as he knew, was familiar to all, and he did not fear that severer action on his part might seem due to natural cruelty; at the same time he could not see any successful issue to his plans if more of the enemy in different districts engaged in designs of this sort. He therefore considered that the rest must be deterred by an exemplary punishment; and so, while granting them their lives, he cut off the hands of all who had borne arms, so that they would be unmistakable witnesses for the penalty such criminals had to expect.
So, that's a striking twist don't you think? Caesar's showing clemency here and there, trying to be the nice guy, but then all of a sudden, he says, No More Mr. Nice Proconsul.
And these men all lose their hands. You wonder if it was both hands? The text leaves it open. Either way, it's gruesome.
A traitor gets away, and becomes a future king
Finally there's an episode where the Romans try to capture Commius of the Atrebates, who has continued to lead rebellions this year. If you recall, he was Caesar's very loyal ally and negotiator in Britain, then he turned on Caesar in the great revolt of 52, he was a leader of the Gallic relief army that attacked Caesar at Alesia.
Well, the Romans set an ambush for him with some trickery, and there's a violent engagement, the Romans spring the trap on Commius, but he gets away after stabbing a mounted Roman commander straight through the thigh with a lance... and the man is carried back to camp within inches of his life, but manages to survive.
Then this happens:
Commius, however, either because his wrath was appeased or because he had lost a great part of his following, sent deputies to Antonius [this is Mark Antony] and gave hostages to guarantee that he would go live wherever Antonius should prescribe, and submit to his commands. One concession he prayed might be granted to his fears — that he would never again come into the sight of any Roman. Judging that this demand proceeded from a legitimate fear, Antonius indulged his petition and accepted his hostages.
I didn't mention this earlier but this is actually the second time the Romans try to capture and ambush Commius. So not surprising he asks the Romans, as condition for his peaceful surrender... kindly, never come into my presence again.
And amazingly, Antony says fine. And get this, Commius exiles himself to Britain, where he's got some friends, and then he and his sons set up their own little dynasty. And what do you know, Archaeologists have found coins minted in Britain by, either his son or his grandson or great grandson... a man also named Commius, KING Commius now, nearly a hundred years later.
So there's at least one happy ending for One Gaul, after all that war.
But with that, the Gallic War is officially over. Hirtius next reports the best sign of this now undeniable fact. Namely, in the following year, 50 BC, nothing really happened among the Gauls.
Coda: All is Quiet on the Gallic Front
Adrian Goldsworthy has a nice summary here, this is from his biography of Caesar, called Colossus:
“Caesar spent nine years in Gaul, extending Roman rule to the Rhine in the east, the English Channel in the north and the Atlantic coast in the west. The area would remain part of Rome’s empire for the best part of five centuries. During most of that time it would have internal peace – broken by a few rebellions in the first generation or so after conquest, then only by occasional Roman civil wars and, especially in the later years, periodic barbarian raids – and enjoyed widespread prosperity. The aristocracy earned Roman citizenship and within a century of Caesar’s death the descendants of men who had fought against him would take their place in Rome’s Senate. As the population, or at least the wealthier classes, were granted the benefits of glass in their windows, running water, sewers, bath-houses and central heating, Gaulish culture was modified and influenced by Roman ideas and concepts to become what is today known as Gallo-Roman culture. Latin became commonly used, especially in the towns and cities and amongst the aristocracy. Literacy and the idea of written records spread. The druidic priesthood was suppressed and practices such as head-hunting and human sacrifice stopped, but many other aspects of Gaulish religion continued, even if gods and goddesses were sometimes given new Roman names. In time the old religions would be challenged by the spread of Christianity, at first as a secret cult, but from Constantine onwards as the official religion of the Roman Empire. The new faith was just one of many ideas and concepts that reached Gaul because it had become part of the wider Roman world in which it was much easier and safer for people to travel. Rome’s impact on Gaul and its peoples was profound and proved tenacious, far more so than in Britain where most traces of Roman culture vanished within a generation or two of its ceasing to be a province.”
So there you have it.
I myself wonder where Vercingetorix was in the year 51, or 50...whether Caesar sent him back in chains to be kept at Rome... or maybe left such a prize somewhere safe in Gaul. I'm pretty sure we don't know. But I like to imagine, that at least for some of this time, Caesar kept Vercingetorix close by in his camp, getting the story straight about what all happened in the year 52. Talking about other things maybe. Imagine the conversations between those men.
Final takeaways
So here are some takeaways for me, just from these Gallic war campaigns.
First is, be truthful. Above all, be truthful with yourself. I think Gundolf was really right in that quote we read at the beginning. Just one sentence in particular stuck out for me, he said, "A Caesar, a Napoleon, beholds himself as he would appear to others..." and "No great man practices petty deception."
Ok, obviously war requires a lot of deception. Many would make the case politics does too. Personally I'm not sure. But there's one kind of deception you can't afford no matter who you are, and that's self-deception. (And mind you it's also very difficult to be truthful to yourself if you're not truthful with others).
Caesar never underestimated himself, but he also never overestimated himself. When he took a risk, as in going to Britain, trusting this or that ambitious Gallic noble, or of course fighting from the front lines, he knew he was taking a risk. All his risks were daring, but calculated, and he entered them with full awareness, no self-deception.
That's what I think it looks and feels like, in practice, to be what Gundolf or Nietzsche would call "a man of destiny". Yes, maybe there is something in you that might believe there are greater forces at play, there's history in the making, but maybe that's more something a guy like Napoleon lets slip strategically to cultivate the myth of himself. I dunno.
For Caesar at any rate, you can detect pretty close to zero magical thinking. He always faces the cold facts, about himself most of all, and that includes recognizing his own talent, to be sure. But he's not above the rules of human physics, and he knows it, he gives a lot of credit to luck here and there. And he doesn't act like he's God’s gift to man either—at least he certainly doesn’t in the Commentaries—for his mostly upper class, literate audience.
So, next time you don't wan't to admit some uncomfortable truth to yourself, or to your subordinates or your superiors... just think, would Caesar have swept this under the rug? I don't think so.
Ok next, we've touched on this, but I can't get over how powerful this is. I think this series has revealed to me a thing I hadn't realized about Caesar before, and that's his superpower, of telling stories about other people. Obviously he can portray himself well too. But think about the arcs we've seen with Ariovistus the German in book 1, Dumnorix of the Sequani, Ambiorix and the ill fated Sabinus, Quintus Cicero, Vercingetorix, and of course Titus Labienus.
I hear a lot of CEOs talking about what we did and praise the collective, the team, etc. And it's good to do that. Sure. Leaders now have a tendency to say "oh it wasn't me, it was the team". Sure. But really, if you're going to put individuals in charge and hold them responsible for a team failing (which is usually what happens in practice), doesn't it make sense to have a culture of recognizing individuals when they succeed beyond expectations?
(Maybe, you set them up well so they can be gracious and say, Oh, boss, it wasn't me, it was my team let's give em a hand [clap clap clap]. But that's for them to say).
And by the way what Caesar does isn't just "so and so did a good job" praising various character traits. He mainly just tells you a compelling narrative about exactly what they did, and reports their reasons for doing so. The praise is usually implicit.
And conversely of course, he assesses his enemies generally with the same clarity. Even if, as in the case of Ariovistus, he has a sort of rhetorical or propagandistic purpose. In Ariovistus’s case, you wonder if he makes the guy a bit larger than life, so as to emphasize his hubris before his downfall (and that happens a few times in the story, you could say it's just good storytelling).
In that case he had to prove the justice of his cause, it was early in the war, people were asking, “why are we fighting these people, Gauls and Germans, who's the real aggressor?”
And just a note here, notice how he doesn't do that with Vercingetorix... of all the Gauls he met perhaps the man he respected the most.
I think yes at that point, in book 7, he felt like he didn't have to argue for the justice or expedience of the war anymore. And there's also the fact that, the more nobly you portray your enemy, the more noble your own victory seems.
But that connects to another great, final, overarching lesson from Caesar's Gallic wars (kind of related to the first point earlier about being truthful).
And that is, have respect for your enemies.
If they are worth fighting, they have a moral universe that makes sense to them, and you must inhabit it, see things through their eyes, in order to overcome them.
Caesar is so strikingly honest and sympathetic when he talks about the Gauls’ desire to preserve their liberty. He never, ever deceives himself that he himself is primarily motivated by "liberating them from oppression" or that he's going to "bring them a better life". Because then, why can't they just understand, hey Gauls, we're a peacekeeping force, we're doing nation building, you know, why can't you stop with the suicide missions, so we can build our schools for you?"
He doesn't do that. That kind of thinking would be a form of contempt for the enemy, and... (especially if you start to believe that kind of self-justifying talk), it can also make you weaker and vulnerable to their stubborn toughness and deceptive craftiness.
So respect your enemies. And your competitors. That doesn't mean you should be afraid of them.
A new war is brewing in Rome…
And this brings us to a final aspect of this book 8 of the Gallic Wars.
Because, the Gallic war was over, but the year 50 saw Caesar increasingly active, furiously active, both in politics, and, sadly, in preparation for the possibility—growing ever more likely—of a great civil war that threatened to rip out the heart of the Roman Republic.
His enemies, hardliners who control the senate, are demanding Caesar lay down arms, lay down his office, come to Rome, and subject himself to ruinous prosecution. "Accountability" they'd call it.
Caesar of course doesn't underestimate these men either. He makes far more preparations than they realize. He makes certain, it's they who do the underestimating.
But... since that thread pulls on an entirely different rug... let's leave Caesar's side of the Civil War story for when we get to his biography proper.
Before we get there, though, we're first going to tell the life of Caesar's greatest nemesis, Cato the Younger. Coming next. So stay tuned.
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Stay strong, Stay ancient, this is Alex Petkas, until next time.
Full quote: “Caesar's writings are action; he was capable of thought only in action. This does not make them more implausible, as romantic sensitiveness or aged wisdom may warn us, but truer... A Caesar, a Napoleon, beholds himself as he would appear to others, and the word or gesture of Caesar or Napolen is not a deception or a pose but their truest form of action, as the style of the true poet is not an adornment but a mode of the soul. No great man practices petty deception. The commentaries present us with Caesar as he felt himself to be... Among all the geniuses, none has written with such epic simplicity. Those who have latter attempted the same thing, some almost attaining it - Machiavelli, Frederick the Great, Napoleon - were widely acquainted with Caesar as their model.”