■ The
Legions against the Phalanx
Rome had clashed with Philip V of Macedon when he cautiously
allied himself with Carthage. Roman military commitments had then led to a
compromise peace, but war was renewed two years after Zama. The Romans did not
wish for a bad neighbour on the other side of the Adriatic, let alone one who
often emerged as the ally and patron of pirates. Pretexts for intervention in
Greek and Macedonian affairs were not far to seek. Since 273 BC, Rome had been
on friendly terms with the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt. Ptolemaic succession
difficulties had now arisen, and with avid opportunism Philip had allied
himself to Antiochus III, who ruled Syria – the rump of the Seleucid empire –
in an attempt to seize the Ptolemies’ overseas possessions. As usual, in a
struggle between the successor powers, would-be neutrals were reluctantly
involved, and Rhodes and Pergamum, a Greek Asiatic kingdom of culture which had
recently stemmed Celtic inroads and defied the Seleucids, appealed to Rome.
The Roman commander who eventually took charge in Greece was
Titus Quinctius Flaminius, an ardent philhellene. He finally defeated Philip at
the battle of Cynoscephalae in Thessaly (197 BC). Cynoscephalae in Greek means
“dog’s heads”, the shape of local hillocks suggesting the name. The uneven
ground seriously hindered the Macedonian phalanx, but heavy mist early in the
day also hampered Roman mobile tactics. On both sides, the right wing was victorious,
but the scales were tipped in Rome’s favour by a tribune whom history has not
named. On his own initiative, he diverted 20 maniples from a point where
victory was already assured, to surprise the enemy phalanx in the rear.
Flaminius, thus victorius, was welcomed as liberator of Greece. Subsequently,
however, in 183 BC, he appeared in a less generous light, attempting to
extradite the aged Hannibal, who as a harmless exile now lived in the Asiatic
kingdom of Bithynia. Hannibal took poison. Even Roman senators did not approve
Flaminius’ action, condemning it as officious and harsh.
Rome’s terms with Philip were not unduly severe, but war
already loomed with Antiochus, his eastern ally. The logic of Roman military
expansion is clear enough. For the sake of security and trade, Rome wanted
peace in the eastern Mediterranean, but since she could not countenance any
power strong enough to act as peacemaker, she had to exert her own strength in
this capacity. Antiochus neglected rather than suspected Roman power and he
had, perhaps tactlessly, employed the exiled Hannibal in a military capacity.
In the war which followed, Antiochus’ fleets were unable to resist the Roman
grappling and boarding tactics which had destroyed Carthaginian naval
supremacy. On land, he was defeated first at Thermopylae (191 BC), then at
Magnesia near Sipylus (190 BC), in Lydia. This last battle proved decisive. The
Roman legions, as at Zama, had the advantage of good allied cavalry support,
provided here by Eumenes, king of Pergamum. In their desire to tempt Antiochus
from his defensive position, the Romans exposed their right wing, but Eumenes’
attack anticipated and threw into confusion the outflanking movements by
Antiochus’ heavily armoured cavalry. The Roman left wing was thrown back by a
charge of Oriental horsemen under Antiochus’ personal leadership, but the
victors in this section of the field continued their pursuit too long and left
the central phalanx unsupported. The phalanx, stationed in dense formations, at
intervals, with elephants filling the gaps, was broken when the Romans
successfully stampeded the elephants and breached the line.
The peace terms which followed Magnesia reduced Antiochus to
impotence as far as the Mediterranean was concerned. But Rome fought a third
Macedonian war with Perseus, son of Philip V. The decisive battle which finally
established Rome as arbiter of the eastern Mediterranean world came at Pydna in
Macedonia (168 BC). The pikemen of the Macedonian phalanx were again at a
disadvantage on broken ground and the Roman legionary swordsmen were able to
exploit gaps in their ranks. Roman tactical flexibility was, on this occasion,
well turned to account by the generalship of Lucius Aemilius Paullus, son of
the consul killed at Cannae.
Rome’s victories in these eastern wars cannot be understood
unless it is realized that the ponderous Macedonian phalanx of the second
century BC differed completely from the original flexible and mobile phalanx of
Philip II and Alexander the Great. With the growing tendency towards heavier
weapons and armour, it in effect reverted in character to the rigid Greek
phalanx of the fifth century BC. At Cynoscephalae, the phalanx, attacked by
Flaminius’ tribune in the rear, had been unable to wheel about even to protect
itself. This helplessness compares significantly with the alacrity of
Alexander’s phalangists at Gaugamela, who faced sharply about to rescue their
baggage train from a Persian breakthrough.
Ever since the days of Camillus, when the maniple formation
had been introduced, the Romans, unlike the Macedonians, had developed
consistently in the direction of flexibility. To this development, the genius
of Scipio Africanus had given great impetus, and the commanders who fought
Rome’s eastern wars in the second century BC had thoroughly absorbed his
tactical principles.
■
Weapons and Tactics
The confrontation between the legion and the phalanx raises
questions as to the comparative effectiveness of sword and pike. The pike, of
course, had the longer reach, but the sword was a more manageable and less
cumbersome weapon, giving greater opportunity for skill in its use.
At Pydna, the Italian allies serving under Aemilius Paullus
hurled themselves with reckless heroism at the enemy pikes, trying to beat them
down or hew off their points. But they sacrificed themselves in vain; the pike
points pierced their shields and armour, causing terrible carnage. The phalanx
was eventually shattered as the result of cool tactical judgment. Paullus
divided his force into small units with orders to look for gaps in the pike
line and then exploit them. The gaps appeared as a result of the rough ground
which prevented the phalangists from moving with uniformity and keeping
abreast. Forced at last by the infiltrating legionaries to abandon their pikes
and fight at close quarters, the Macedonians soon discovered that their small
swords and shields were no match for the corresponding Roman arms.
The Macedonian dynasts who relied upon the phalanx were
perfectly aware of the dangers to which it was exposed and their awareness
explains the hesitation to join battle that marked their encounters with the
Romans. The phalanx was considered secure while it remained stationary. The
Romans consequently tried to tempt it into action but, even so, had to beware
lest in provoking an attack they rendered themselves too vulnerable.
Gaps, of course, might be opened in the enemy lines by the
pilum. Something could be expected from the volley of weighted javelins with
which the legions normally commenced a battle. But against this, the
phalangists were heavily armoured: Perseus’ phalanx at Pydna drew its title of
“Bronze Shields” from the round bucklers which his men wore slung round their
necks and drew in front of them as fighting started. But wooded or uneven
country was the legionary’s best chance against armies of the Macedonian type.
The Romans had learnt their lesson as early as the battle of Asculum against
Pyrrhus, where they had been able to withdraw nimbly before the intact line of
the phalanx, only to rush in where ground obstacles created ready-made breaches
in the pike formation.
A similar confrontation of sword and spear is to be found in
Italy in 225 BC, when, in the period between the First and Second Punic Wars,
Rome fought with invading Gauls at Telamon in Etruria. On this occasion the
Romans were the spearmen and the Gauls the swordsmen. The Roman general, in
fact, placed some of his triarii in the front line in order that their spears
might blunt the Gallic swords: the Gauls, like the Italian soldiery at Pydna,
tried to parry or hack away the spear heads. Gallic swords were sometimes made
of very soft iron. In fact, Polybius tells us that the Gallic sword was so soft
that after striking a blow the swordsman was obliged to straighten the bent
iron against his foot. Incidentally, Plutarch tells the same story of poorly
tempered Gallic swords in his Life of Camillus. The Gauls seem to have relied
on carrying all before them at the first onset; this is understandable if their
swords were rendered so quickly unserviceable. Perhaps the defect was localized
in certain tribes where ironworking had not advanced beyond a primitive stage
or where facilities for obtaining good weapons did not exist. At Cannae,
although the Spaniards in Hannibal’s army fought with their short thrusting
swords, the Gauls preferred their normal, unpointed, slashing weapons. However,
there is no mention here of soft iron and the Gauls, so far from despairing
when immediate victory eluded them, doggedly retreated in the face of Roman
pressure, until Hannibal’s tactical plans matured. In any case, one feels that
Hannibal’s astute generalship would not have permitted the use of soft iron
weapons among his troops.
Polybius gives a graphic account of the Gallic invaders of
225 BC. Although the rear ranks wore cloaks and trousers, the huge men of the
front line, with traditional bravado, fought stark naked save for their gold
collars and armlets.
The sight was formidable, but the prospect of acquiring the
gold stimulated Roman efforts to kill the wearer. The shields of these reckless
fighters were not large enough to protect them; the bigger the warrior, the
more exposed he was to the Roman pilum. The Roman legionary regularly carried
two pila, one more slender than the other, perhaps for convenient reservation
in the shield hand. The long, barbed, iron head was riveted so securely to the
shaft that it would break rather than become detached from the wood. However,
this very solidity was later felt to be a mixed blessing, for a spent missile,
intact, could be recovered and used by the enemy. Technical measures were taken
to neutralize the danger.
■
Sackers of Cities
Advantages cease to be advantages when one becomes too
dependent on them. Rome’s dependence upon overseas power and wealth led to
neglect of the old self-sufficient Italian economy. Roman overseas wars assumed
the aspect of predatory exploits rather than peace-keeping missions; the
struggles of the later second century BC characteristically terminated in the
pitiless sack of cities rather than decisive battles followed by peace terms. When
the Achaean League and its ally Corinth revolted against the Roman settlement
of Greece, the Corinthians treated Roman senatorial ambassadors with
disrespectful violence. After the short war which followed, the Roman consul
Lucius Mummius razed Corinth and enslaved its inhabitants. Mummius was hardly a
philhellene. For Greek art treasures, he displayed the enthusiasm of a
collector rather than a connoisseur.
The same year (146 BC) had seen the destruction of Carthage,
bringing the Third and last Punic War to its bitter end. The Carthaginians had
recalled from exile an able general – another Hasdrubal – who organized their
very solid defences. Against the 45-foot (13.7m) city walls, the Romans made
slow progress. The Roman besieging army itself, at one time in grave danger,
was saved only by the energy and resource of Scipio Aemilianus, son of Aemilius
Paullus, victor of Pydna, and grandson by adoption of the Scipio Africanus who
had defeated Hannibal.
When the Carthaginians were successful in running the Roman
blockade by sea, Scipio built a mole across the gulf into which their harbour
issued, thus cutting them off. The Carthaginians dug a canal from their inner
(naval) harbour basin to the coast and put to sea with a full fleet, but the
Romans defeated them in a naval engagement. The walls of Carthage were finally
breached, Hasdrubal surrendered and was reserved for the day when Scipio
triumphed as a victorious general in Rome, but his wife and children preferred
to perish in the flames which enveloped the Carthaginians citadel and temples.
Another appalling siege was that of Numantia in 133 BC. For
Rome, the capture of Numantia marked the successful culmination of a savage and
often shameful war in which, after the elimination of Carthage, the Romans aimed
to impose their rule on the native peoples of the Spanish peninsula. The siege
operations at Numantia were, like those at Carthage, conducted by Scipio
Aemilianus.
Scipio was something of an expert in sieges. Appian says
that he was the first general to enclose with a wall an enemy who was prepared
to give battle in the open field. It might have been expected that such an
enemy would prove impossible to contain. But Scipio’s measures were very
thorough.
Numantia was beset with seven forts and surrounded by a
ditch and palisade. The perimeter of the circumvallations was twice as long as
that of the city. At the first sign of a sally by the defenders, the threatened
Roman sector had orders to hoist a red flag by day or raise a fire signal by
night, so that reinforcements could immediately be rushed to the danger spot.
Another ditch was built behind the first, also with palisades, after which a
wall 8 feet (2.4m) high and 10 feet (3m) wide (not including parapets) was
constructed. Towers were sited at 100-foot (30.5m) intervals along the wall,
and where the wall could not be carried round the adjacent marshland its place
was taken by an earthwork of the same height, thicker than the wall.
The river Durius (Duoro), on which Numantia stood, enabled
the defenders to be supplied by means of small boats, swimmers and divers.
Scipio therefore placed a tower on either side of the river, to which he moored
a boom of floating timbers. The timbers bristled with inset knives and
spearheads and were kept in constant motion by the strength of the current.
They acted as a barrage, effectively isolating the city from any help which
might reach it along the river.
Catapults and all kinds of siege engines were now mounted on
Scipio’s towers and missiles were accumulated along the parapets, the forts
being occupied by archers and slingers. Messengers were stationed at frequent
intervals along the entire wall in order that headquarters might be informed
immediately of any enemy action, whether by day or night. Each tower was furnished
with emergency signals and each was ready to send immediate help to another in
case of need.
Thus invested for eight months, the Numantines starved. They
took to cannibalism, and at last 4,000 surviving citizens, now mere filthy and
ragged skeletons, surrendered unconditionally.
■
Roman Camps
Excavations at Numantia have brought to light 13 Roman camps
in the vicinity. Seven of these have been identified as Scipio’s. Others were
those of his less successful predecessors in Spain. The Numantine excavations
of Schulten testify in general to the accuracy of Polybius’ description of
Roman camps, though some notable differences in internal arrangements and
dimensions must be recognized.
A camp containing two legions with an equivalent strength of
Italian allied contingents, commanded by a consular general, was normally built
in the form of a square. A main road (via principalis), 100 feet (30.5m) wide,
separated the headquarters of the general, with those of his paymaster
(quaestor)3, staff of officers and headquarters troops, from those of the
legionaries and attached cavalry. The via principalis issued on either side
through gates in the camp wall. The headquarter section of the camp covered one-third
of its total area. The remaining two-thirds was itself bisected by another road
(via quintana), 50 feet (15.2m) wide, parallel to the main road. The word
quintana indicated that it was adjacent to the tents of the fifth maniple and
its attached cavalry. Both these roads were bisected at right angles by a third
road, which ran to the general’s headquarters from a gate in the farthest wall.
The headquarters (praetorium) was connected by a short road, on the other side,
to a gate in the nearer wall.
Between the camp ramparts and the tents inside, a margin
(intervallum) of 200 feet (6lm) was left vacant. This placed the tents out of
reach of enemy missiles – especially fire darts. In exceptional cases, also,
the camp could accommodate extra troops, and there was room to stow booty.
Before the battle of the Metaurus, Claudius Nero had managed to smuggle his own
legions into the camp of his colleague Livius without the enemy being aware of
it. Hasdrubal only knew that he faced two consular armies instead of one when
he heard the same trumpet call sounded twice in the same camp.
A Roman army never halted for a night without digging itself
a camp. The perimeter was formed by a ditch, normally about 3 feet (.91m) and 4
feet (1.22m) wide. The excavated earth was flung inside to form a rampart,
which was surmounted by a breastwork of sharpened stakes. For the purpose of
constructing such a camp, each soldier on the march carried a spade, other
tools and sharp stakes to set in the rampart.
In wartime, a Roman army encamped at a chosen spot for the
winter. In this case, the camp comprised a more solid structure. The tents made
of skin were replaced by huts thatched with straw. Each tent or hut held eight
men, who messed together. Polybius’ account suggests that the huts or tents
were laid out in long lines with streets between them, but the evidence of
Numantia excavations points to the grouping of maniples round a square.
■ The
Military Achievement of Marius
In the days when Marius had first served in North Africa,
the nobiles were once more in precarious control of Roman politics. They were
at least sufficiently in control to mismanage foreign wars. When Marius, a
member of the equestrian class, declared his intention of standing for the
consulate, his aristocratic commanding officer insulted him. However, Marius
possessed ability, energy, wealth, influential family connections and a flair
for intrigue. He became consul in 107 BC and superseded the general who had
slighted him. However, no amount of intrigue could have raised Marius to the
eminence for which he was destined if events had not conspired to demonstrate
his very real military ability, both in the Jugurthine War and the campaigns
against the barbarians.
A land-hungry Germanic tribe, the Cimbri, had left their homes
in Jutland and together with other tribes, including the Teutones, whose name
is remembered above all in this connection, had migrated southwards, carrying
with them their entire families and moveable possessions. The Romans were
alarmed and a consular army met the migrants in Noricum, a Celto-Illyrian area
north-east of the Alps. In the ensuing battle the Romans were badly defeated.
The Cimbri and their allies must have found that the Alps presented a more
formidable barrier than the Rhône and they fortunately avoided Italy, moving
westward into Gaul (Southern France), an area which was by now under Roman
control. Several Roman armies attempted to eliminate the barbarian menace, but
they met with a series of humiliating defeats culminating in a major disaster
at Arausio (Orange) in 105 BC, which much disturbed Rome.
The campaigns against the migrants could be regarded as
offensive wars. The German tribes were fighting in defence of the families they
had with them, and the Romans had rigidly, though not unwisely, refused to
negotiate or concede any right of settlement to the barbarians. After Arausio,
however, the way to Italy lay open to the Germanic invaders and Rome was
unquestionably on the defensive. A full state of emergency existed and in these
circumstances Marius, who had recently emerged as conqueror of Jugurtha, was
elected consul for the second and successive year (105 BC). Legally, ten years
should have elapsed before his second election. Constitutional precedent
required that the consul should be sponsored by the Senate. But the Popular
Assembly, as the legislative body of the Republic, was free to do as it chose.
In any case, the Romans rarely insisted on constitutional niceties where they
conflicted with military expediency.
Marius gloriously justified his appointment. Fortunately,
the Germans had not immediately attempted the invasion of Italy but moved
westwards towards Spain. This gave Marius time to train his troops for the
coming conflict. Much of his success may be attributed to good military
discipline and administration. He was appointed consul for the third time
before he came to grips with the enemy. He even had leisure to improve his
supply lines by setting his men to dig a new channel at the mouth of the Rhône.
The Teutones and the Ambrones (another allied German tribe)
parted company from the Cimbri and the Tigurini (a Celtic people who had joined
them). While the former confronted Marius on the Rhône, the latter made for
Italy by a circuitous march over the Alps. Marius restrained his men in their
camp to allow them to become accustomed to the sight of the barbarians who
surrounded them, calculating that familiarity would breed contempt. When the
Teutones marched on towards Italy, bypassing his camp, he led his own men out
and overtook the enemy near Aquae Sextiae (Aix-en-Provence). Here, he fought a
battle on favourable ground and, making use of a cavalry ambush posted in the
hills, completely annihilated the Teutones. Their allies, the Ambrones had
already been slaughtered in great numbers in a fight at a watering place two
days earlier.
Marius’ consular colleague in North Italy fared by no means
so happily and was forced to withdraw before the invading Cimbri into the Po
valley, leaving them to occupy a large part of the country. In 101 BC, Marius’
legions were brought to reinforce the north Italian army, Marius being now in
his fifth consulate. A battle was fought at Vercellae (perhaps near Rivigo).
The barbarians’ tactics were not utterly devoid of sophistication and had some
success. Nor were the Germans ill-armed. Their cavalry wore lofty plumes on
helmets grotesquely shaped like animal heads. Their breastplates were of iron
and they carried flashing white shields, two javelins each and heavy swords for
hand-to-hand fighting. The summer heat may have been in favour of the Romans,
who were accustomed to the Mediterranean climate. Fighting was confused on
account of a heavy dust storm. The Roman victory may be ascribed to superior
training and discipline. Sulla, on whose account Plutarch relies, suggested
that Marius’ tactics were mainly designed to secure glory for himself at the
expense of his consular colleague. Sulla himself fought in the battle, but one
would not expect his evidence to be unbiased. In any case, the entire Germanic
horde was destroyed and Rome was spared a catastrophe that might have proved
conclusive to its political existence. For unlike the victors of the Allia,
three centuries earlier, the Cimbri were in search of land, not gold. The greatest
threat presented by the northern barbarians lay in their numbers, estimated at
a total of 300,000; some ancient historians thought that this was an
underestimate. The Romans at Vercellae were a little more than 50,000 strong.
At the same time, the barbarians’ great trek southward from Jutland, let alone
their subsequent victories over Roman armies, cannot have been achieved without
leadership. It is surprising that the names of the Germanic leaders are not at
least as celebrated as that of Brennus.
■ Recruitments
The wars against the Cimbri and the Teutones are poorly
documented. Marius emerges as both strategist and tactician, a leader
possessing formidable discipline and great physical courage. Yet the secret of
his success may well have lain in his ability as a military administrator and
the intelligence of his military reforms.
One has only to consider his methods of recruitment.
Constitutionally, these were outrageous and exposed him to the ever-increasing
hostility of the Senate. But from a social and strategic point of view, they
were precisely what Rome needed. Since the time of the Servian reforms, the poorest
section of the population (proletarii) had not qualified for enrolment in the
legions, except in times of grave national emergency. The name proletarii in
fact signifies those who contributed only their children (proles) to the
community – not their taxes or their military service. Plutarch suggests that
only propertied classes were required in the army, since their possessions were
some sort of a security for their good behaviour. In any case, it must have
been felt that they had a greater stake in the society they defended.
At the time when Marius had been appointed by ‘the People’
to his first term as consul, Roman citizens were undergoing a process of
proletarianization. The land, from which the farmer was being forced by low
overseas corn prices, was brought up by wealthy absentee landlords, who were
able to run their estates with the help of cheap labour, supplied by a
multitude of enslaved war captives. Meanwhile, the small farmer moved into the
city, where he could at least take advantage of the cheap and subsidized corn
which often proved to be the price of his political support.
The Senate had ruled that extra levies should be raised for
the Jugurthine War. Marius, finding the measure inadequate, and always ready to
provoke the Senate, recruited not only volunteers and time-expired veterans –
which it was open to him to do – but also offered enlistment to members of the
proletariat who wished to go soldiering. Whereas previously the field for
recruitment had been progressively narrowing as property requirements became
harder to satisfy, Marius raised a strong army and at the same time produced
one remedy for the problem of unemployment.
As long as he enjoyed the support of the People’s Assembly
and its tribunes, the Senate could not check Marius’ recruiting activities. His
methods, however, had an ominous aspect. Roman soldiers, though now members of
a fully professional army, owed personal loyalty to the general who enrolled
and employed them. This loyalty was enhanced by traditional Roman concepts of
the semi-sacred relationship which existed between a protector (patronus) and
his protégé (cliens): a relationship which in some contexts acquired legal
definition. Marius became a patron to his veteran soldiers, securing for them,
through his political associates, a grant of farmland on retirement. The day of
private armies, when soldiers owed prime allegiance to their generals rather
than to the state, was not far off.
■
Army Reorganization
At the battle of Aquae Sextiae, Marius gave the order to his
men, through the usual chain of command, that they should hurl their javelins
as soon as the enemy came within range, then use their swords and shields to
thrust the attackers backwards, down the treacherous slope. The instructions to
discharge javelins and then join battle with swords and shields is such as we
might expect to be given to an army which had adopted the pilum and the
gladius, but the offensive use of shields and the application of pushing
tactics sounds like a reversion to the old fifth- and fourth-century phalanx as
it had been used both in Greece and Italy. The probability is that the
traditional manipular formation with its three-line quincunx deployment had generally
been superseded. In the course of the preceding century, Rome had come into
conflict with a wide assortment of enemies, variously equipped and accustomed,
and the Romans were nothing if not adaptable. They were ready to improve and to
adopt such tactics as suited the terrain and were most likely to prove
effective against the type of enemy with whom they had to deal in any
particular battle. There were no longer any routine tactics. The maniple which
had been the unit of the old three-line battle front was in the first place a
tactical unit (see here). Once it had ceased to be tactically effective, there
was no reason for its retention. Marius recognized this fact and reorganized
his army accordingly.
For purposes of administration a larger unit than the
maniple was convenient; and in this, subdivisions were necessary. The legion
was consequently divided into ten cohorts, and every cohort contained six
centuries, each commanded by a centurion, whose titles, ranging from that of
the exalted primus pilus to hastatus posterior, reflected differences of
position on the battlefield, rank and seniority. Before Marius’ time, the
cohort, notably as used by Scipio in Spain (134 BC), was often a purely
tactical formation, employed to cope with special circumstances. On the other
hand, it had originated as an administrative infantry unit among the Italian
allies. Cohorts had been mobilized originally as 500 and 1,000 strong
respectively. Each had been under the command of a praefectus. As a legionary
unit, the cohort was 500–600 strong. Its division into six centuries meant that
these were each somewhat under 100 strong, larger than the old manipular
centuries, which had sometimes contained as few as 60 men.
Marius abolished the velites, the skirmishers of the ancient
Camillan army; and with them, their characteristic arms of light spear and
small buckler (parma) disappeared. The pilum was now used by all legionaries,
and Marius introduced a change in its manufacture. In place of one of the iron
rivets which had secured the head to the shaft, he had a wooden peg inserted.
When the javelin impaled an enemy shield, the peg broke on impact and the shaft
sagged and trailed on the ground, though still attached to the head by the
remaining iron rivet. Not only was the javelin thus rendered unserviceable to
enemy hands, but it encumbered the warrior whose shield it had transfixed.
According to Plutarch, this novelty was introduced in preparation for the
battle with the Cimbri at the battle of Vercellae. At the later date, in Julius
Caesar’s army, as a further refinement, the long shank of the pilum was made of
soft iron, so that it bent even while it penetrated.
Marius was at pains to be sure that every soldier in his
army should be fit and self-reliant. He accustomed his men to long route
marches and to frequent moves at the double. In addition to their arms and
trenching tools, he insisted on their carrying their own cooking utensils and
required that every man should be able to prepare his own meals. Flavius
Josephus, the Jewish historian who wrote in the first century AD, describes the
legionary as carrying a saw, a basket, a bucket, a hatchet, a leather strap, a
sickle, a chain and rations for three days, as well as other equipment. If this
was a legacy for Marius’ reforms, it is easy to understand why the men who
patiently supported such burdens were nicknamed “Marius’ mules”. Campaigning in
enemy country or where there was a danger of sudden attack, the Romans marched
lightly equipped and ready for action at short notice, while the soldiers’
packs (sarcinae) were carried with the baggage train. Marius is also said to
have introduced a quick-release system for the pack.
