I'm happy with lots of murder, it's always good to be reminded just how bloody & cruel these things generally were.
Hadrian's Consolidation - reboot
- Thread starter Hecatee
- Start date
I'm happy with lots of murder, it's always good to be reminded just how bloody & cruel these things generally were.
Hecatee
Donor
This was the goal of that post, I did not want to make a "great men only" timeline (which the first attempt was) but rather a more general approach which will also allow me to show progressively some evolutions of the Roman world without ressorting to "textbook-like" posts
Alcsentre Calanice
Gone Fishin'
Will Hadrian make an attempt to reform the Roman state? Or will everything evolve like it did OTL?
Hecatee
Donor
Well Hadrian will remain Hadrian, this means a man that focuses on defense, touring the Empire and living a nice life mared by health issues. But the changes from the POD have various effects, including changes in his court that can influence on things, as well as changes outside the realm that may impact the Empire inside its borders too without the knowledge of the imperial court... So we'll see changes with long terms consequences, intended or not, happenning. But will thoses changes really modify the course of the life of the Empire ? I'm not sure yet
On the bank of the Tisia, early spring 118 CE
Hecatee
Donor
On the bank of the Tisia, early spring 118 CE
The two forces were deployed face to face, between their two camps. On a rather narrow plain flanked by forests on one side and the river Tisia on the other, closed by the camps of the two armies, nearly ninety thousand armed men, faced each other. On the roman side, two full legions stood under their eagles, flanked by various auxiliary units for a total of some thirty thousand combatant.
In front, the Barbarian seemed to be three times as numerous as the Romans, as at least fifty thousand warriors, mostly men on foot armed with long spears, swords and shields or hunting bows, confronted their foe. Behind them, on the walls of the makeshift camp made of chariots and barrels, many women and children looked at their menfolk. They knew it was all or nothing: the river was too wide to cross easily, and they were no boats available. Beside the Romans had put cavalry and a small infantry detachment on the other bank of the river, ready to kill anyone who’d try to escape and managed to go past the warships prowling the waters.
It had taken some three months, but the legions had finally cornered a large party of Iazyges before they could escape to the northern mountains. Hadrian’s forces had closed the way and pushed people toward the south where two columns of auxiliaries supported by part of the Danubian fleet were coming. Finally the various forces had met. A night march had let the Romans regroup, the southern force coming to the Emperor’s camp. A complex, tricky maneuver, but a successful one that had only been made possible by the complete dominance of the Tisia river by the fleet.
A tower had been built on the field of war, on which hung the imperial standard. Hadrianus wanted his men to see him, but he also wanted to keep some control on the battle. About two third of the Iazyges people was trapped and the day’s battle would decide their fate.
The Romans had arrived before the Iazyges, and the site was the one that best suited them in a four days of march radius. They had planted some traps on their flank to prevent an attack from outside the woods, and artillery had been carefully sited to help soften any barbarian charge in the front. The men were confident, after a rather easy walk into enemy territory. The Iazyges had been completely surprised by the offensive, which had begun quite early in the year despite the rivers still being inflated by water from the melted snow. Boat bridges had been built in sections and quickly launched across the river, benefitting from experience on the rivers of Mesopotamia and Dacia in the previous years.
Loot had been plentiful, with many new slaves being captured and many golden ornaments found in the huts or on the bodies of fallen warriors. But now the time to pay for it all had come, and it would be settled in blood. Still, the favorable terrain and the roman discipline of the veteran forces would be more than able to cope with the undisciplined barbarian onslaught, or so hoped every roman soldier present that day.
Silence reigned in the roman lines, except for the occasional bark of a centurion berating one of his men. The almost total lack of cavalry in this battle meant that no horses were neighing nervously, and most men simply waited for the battle to begin. The priests had made their sacrifices, auspices were deemed favorable. The Emperor himself was with them, which meant he might see and recompense brave deeds. His sight alone gave strength to his men, even if more than one veteran still despised him for killing some of the Empire’s best generals and abandoning so many lands the previous year.
On the other side of the field was a large body of men. Thousands upon thousands of warriors milled around, loosely grouped around their war leaders. Some men carried armor, brilliant chainmail and golden helmets decorated with strange devices in the shape of animals or with brilliant feathers, but most only wore a tunic and long pants. The noblest warriors did also have golden armlets that would do fine as trophies for those who would slay them. Many carried a shield, either a small round piece of wood with a central metallic umbos or a larger wicker shield. Few carried heavy shields made in the Gallic fashion. Tall spears and long swords where the weapons of choice of those men.
While the Romans were mostly silent, the Iazyges were rather noisy, loudly calling names at their enemies. Sometimes some men would go out of the crowd and call out for a duel, never answered by the legionaries. One man, braver or more insane than the other, approached the Romans before being speared by a ballista bolt that went through him and fell a few paces before the barbarian lines. First blood had been shed.
The barbarian answered by dressing their lines while beginning their war chant, hitting their shields with their blades. It was not the baryttus of the northern Germans, but it was similar. Behind them the women and the children took on the cry, adding their voice to the waves of sound that traveled the field toward the legions.
There it was met by the silent prayers of the soldiers, and then the hymn to Apollo was sung. The deep voices of the legionaries took the chant in Latin, each man with his own accent bearing witness to the size of the Empire. From Gaul as well as from Syria, from Mauretania as well as from Italy, from Achaia as well as from Egypt, they had come on this Danubian field of this day to fight for a city most had never seen, in the name of an Emperor which few had ever seen before this campaign.
The Barbarians began to advance toward the Romans, still chanting. Suddenly the noise of many cords suddenly released sounded in the back of the soldiers, followed by the sound of large projectiles rushing toward the enemy lines.
Ballistae shot their bolts which impaled many men at once, larger round shots falling from the sky and rolling on the ground, breaking bones and making men howl with pain. Still the great mass of the enemy kept coming, like a beast whose wounds would close as soon as they appeared.
Legionaries readied their heavy pilum, the throwing spear designed to break the shield formations of the enemies that was their trademark as much as their heavy lorica segmentata. Auxiliaries made sure their chainmail was falling correctly on their shoulders, checked their swords in their scabbard, prayed one last time to their own native gods or to Mithra.
Taking a few steps to get more throwing power, the first ranks of legionaries hurled their spears toward the enemy, unsheathing their blades while the dark cloud of iron and wood fell on the Iazyges, sowing death deep in their formation. Still they came, pushed forward by mass as much as by will. The legionaries kept going, their line an impeccable front of heavy shields and metal helmets, the points of their gladius visible in the gaps between the scutum of the men.
A huge noise resonated in the field when the two armies connected. Arrows flew above the first lines of each side, falling down onto the soldiers waiting to get into the meat grinder that was called battle. Men fell to the ground, some slain outright, others still screaming while their comrade in arms walked upon them or their enemies stabbed them so that they may not do any harm any longer. New volleys of heavy pilae fell upon the seething mass of barbarians, bringing more destruction on the densely packed warriors.
In the tower where Hadrianus watched the fight, the tension was palpable. The officers of the high command were happy to see that the roman line had held to the shock. Now it was to be seen if they would last long enough to put the enemy in flight. Still, orders had to be sent. Flags from the top of the tower communicated them to the other side of the river, where a horseman saw them and began to run his horse toward the south. The trap was now sprung…
For Hadrianus had planned well and chosen his terrain while knowing that he had no room to deploy his cavalry in the normal way. For this reason he’d used his fleet to carry a part of it on a small island in the middle of the river, and he had now given the order that they cross again and fall on the back of the Barbarians, a party of auxiliaries following to secure the enemy camp while everyone was watching for the main action. Grinning somberly, the emperor kept watching the action in front of him. His infantrymen only had to hold for three hours…
The two forces were deployed face to face, between their two camps. On a rather narrow plain flanked by forests on one side and the river Tisia on the other, closed by the camps of the two armies, nearly ninety thousand armed men, faced each other. On the roman side, two full legions stood under their eagles, flanked by various auxiliary units for a total of some thirty thousand combatant.
In front, the Barbarian seemed to be three times as numerous as the Romans, as at least fifty thousand warriors, mostly men on foot armed with long spears, swords and shields or hunting bows, confronted their foe. Behind them, on the walls of the makeshift camp made of chariots and barrels, many women and children looked at their menfolk. They knew it was all or nothing: the river was too wide to cross easily, and they were no boats available. Beside the Romans had put cavalry and a small infantry detachment on the other bank of the river, ready to kill anyone who’d try to escape and managed to go past the warships prowling the waters.
It had taken some three months, but the legions had finally cornered a large party of Iazyges before they could escape to the northern mountains. Hadrian’s forces had closed the way and pushed people toward the south where two columns of auxiliaries supported by part of the Danubian fleet were coming. Finally the various forces had met. A night march had let the Romans regroup, the southern force coming to the Emperor’s camp. A complex, tricky maneuver, but a successful one that had only been made possible by the complete dominance of the Tisia river by the fleet.
A tower had been built on the field of war, on which hung the imperial standard. Hadrianus wanted his men to see him, but he also wanted to keep some control on the battle. About two third of the Iazyges people was trapped and the day’s battle would decide their fate.
The Romans had arrived before the Iazyges, and the site was the one that best suited them in a four days of march radius. They had planted some traps on their flank to prevent an attack from outside the woods, and artillery had been carefully sited to help soften any barbarian charge in the front. The men were confident, after a rather easy walk into enemy territory. The Iazyges had been completely surprised by the offensive, which had begun quite early in the year despite the rivers still being inflated by water from the melted snow. Boat bridges had been built in sections and quickly launched across the river, benefitting from experience on the rivers of Mesopotamia and Dacia in the previous years.
Loot had been plentiful, with many new slaves being captured and many golden ornaments found in the huts or on the bodies of fallen warriors. But now the time to pay for it all had come, and it would be settled in blood. Still, the favorable terrain and the roman discipline of the veteran forces would be more than able to cope with the undisciplined barbarian onslaught, or so hoped every roman soldier present that day.
Silence reigned in the roman lines, except for the occasional bark of a centurion berating one of his men. The almost total lack of cavalry in this battle meant that no horses were neighing nervously, and most men simply waited for the battle to begin. The priests had made their sacrifices, auspices were deemed favorable. The Emperor himself was with them, which meant he might see and recompense brave deeds. His sight alone gave strength to his men, even if more than one veteran still despised him for killing some of the Empire’s best generals and abandoning so many lands the previous year.
On the other side of the field was a large body of men. Thousands upon thousands of warriors milled around, loosely grouped around their war leaders. Some men carried armor, brilliant chainmail and golden helmets decorated with strange devices in the shape of animals or with brilliant feathers, but most only wore a tunic and long pants. The noblest warriors did also have golden armlets that would do fine as trophies for those who would slay them. Many carried a shield, either a small round piece of wood with a central metallic umbos or a larger wicker shield. Few carried heavy shields made in the Gallic fashion. Tall spears and long swords where the weapons of choice of those men.
While the Romans were mostly silent, the Iazyges were rather noisy, loudly calling names at their enemies. Sometimes some men would go out of the crowd and call out for a duel, never answered by the legionaries. One man, braver or more insane than the other, approached the Romans before being speared by a ballista bolt that went through him and fell a few paces before the barbarian lines. First blood had been shed.
The barbarian answered by dressing their lines while beginning their war chant, hitting their shields with their blades. It was not the baryttus of the northern Germans, but it was similar. Behind them the women and the children took on the cry, adding their voice to the waves of sound that traveled the field toward the legions.
There it was met by the silent prayers of the soldiers, and then the hymn to Apollo was sung. The deep voices of the legionaries took the chant in Latin, each man with his own accent bearing witness to the size of the Empire. From Gaul as well as from Syria, from Mauretania as well as from Italy, from Achaia as well as from Egypt, they had come on this Danubian field of this day to fight for a city most had never seen, in the name of an Emperor which few had ever seen before this campaign.
The Barbarians began to advance toward the Romans, still chanting. Suddenly the noise of many cords suddenly released sounded in the back of the soldiers, followed by the sound of large projectiles rushing toward the enemy lines.
Ballistae shot their bolts which impaled many men at once, larger round shots falling from the sky and rolling on the ground, breaking bones and making men howl with pain. Still the great mass of the enemy kept coming, like a beast whose wounds would close as soon as they appeared.
Legionaries readied their heavy pilum, the throwing spear designed to break the shield formations of the enemies that was their trademark as much as their heavy lorica segmentata. Auxiliaries made sure their chainmail was falling correctly on their shoulders, checked their swords in their scabbard, prayed one last time to their own native gods or to Mithra.
Taking a few steps to get more throwing power, the first ranks of legionaries hurled their spears toward the enemy, unsheathing their blades while the dark cloud of iron and wood fell on the Iazyges, sowing death deep in their formation. Still they came, pushed forward by mass as much as by will. The legionaries kept going, their line an impeccable front of heavy shields and metal helmets, the points of their gladius visible in the gaps between the scutum of the men.
A huge noise resonated in the field when the two armies connected. Arrows flew above the first lines of each side, falling down onto the soldiers waiting to get into the meat grinder that was called battle. Men fell to the ground, some slain outright, others still screaming while their comrade in arms walked upon them or their enemies stabbed them so that they may not do any harm any longer. New volleys of heavy pilae fell upon the seething mass of barbarians, bringing more destruction on the densely packed warriors.
In the tower where Hadrianus watched the fight, the tension was palpable. The officers of the high command were happy to see that the roman line had held to the shock. Now it was to be seen if they would last long enough to put the enemy in flight. Still, orders had to be sent. Flags from the top of the tower communicated them to the other side of the river, where a horseman saw them and began to run his horse toward the south. The trap was now sprung…
For Hadrianus had planned well and chosen his terrain while knowing that he had no room to deploy his cavalry in the normal way. For this reason he’d used his fleet to carry a part of it on a small island in the middle of the river, and he had now given the order that they cross again and fall on the back of the Barbarians, a party of auxiliaries following to secure the enemy camp while everyone was watching for the main action. Grinning somberly, the emperor kept watching the action in front of him. His infantrymen only had to hold for three hours…
Already i feel sorry for what is coming, while the history fan in me is fascinated by possible alternatives, the realist can only wonder at how it was to be one of the women or children to be left in such a hopeless, horrible nightmare.
Library of Octavia’s portico, Rome, spring 118 CE
Hecatee
Donor
A short piece this week, introducing some new characters not present in the original timeline...
Library of Octavia’s portico, Rome, spring 118 CE
The man sighed deeply before giving the scroll back to the slave that stood beside him, signifying him with a movement of the hand that he could put it back where it belonger. He was tired. He’d been working since dawn in the large, airy and luminous room. Around him others read their papyri, murmuring the text to themselve, or had slaves read the words for them. Truly the divine Augustus had done a great service to Rome when he’d built the library. He longed to see what the new greek and latin libraries the divine Trajanus had ordered would contain, but he was already quite happy with what could be found here. Or at least he was most of the days, but not this time. He’d spent hours looking for the elusive passage, but had been unable to locate it. Yet he was sure it’d been Tacitus who’d been giving that anecdote about the mad emperor Nero… But if it was not in his life of Agricola, as he’d thought and been unable to confirm, then he could not begin to think of another source for this info. And he desperately needed it to flesh out the chapter he was working on…
The noise of someone walking close by and then stopping next to him made the reader look at his side. A big smile appeared on his face as he rose to meet the man who’d come by : “Senator Clarus, what a pleasure ! How are you doing today ?”
The man smiled at his friend : “Ah Gaius Suetonius Tranquilus ! I hope you fare well ! Still working on this piece of history of yours ?”
“May the Gods preserve you and yours, Senator. To answer your question I am indeed, although I am currently particularly delayed by an elusive piece of information I thought I recalled about the time of the mad poet but can’t seem to find ! But enough of my rambling, what are you doing here yourself ? This is not your usual abode, your domus being so richly equipped in books…”
The senator sat next to Suetonius and shrugged : “Sometimes I need an information my books can’t provide. Mostly it is to be found in the tabularium, among the archives of our republic, but here I am looking for a piece of arcane history from the Greeks. You see the senator Pullo and I have somewhat of a disagreement on the exact events surrounding the fall of Sparta to Thebes, and my library has more poesy than history… I’ve come to look at Diodoros, Xenophon and others to see if I can come to a proof that will allow me to win the debate with Pullo. Yet when I saw you here I could not pass on the occasion to speak to you, especially as you have been rarely seen at the salutatio those last few weeks…”
“I know and am deeply sorry senator, as you know how much I like to be of service to your family. Yet in the last few weeks I’ve been fully immersed in my research, to the point that the slaves here are getting mad from my incessant requests for new scrolls… Oh and by the way I would be unable to help you with your quest, I don’t read the Greeks much beside Polybius and Diodoros latests books, finding in Rome’s history more than enough subjects for my curiosity… But ask for the slave Arete, he’s the most learned of those caring for the Greek section and will probably be able to provide you with if not a direct answer at least with the reference of the volumes you should peruse to solve your issue.”
Library of Octavia’s portico, Rome, spring 118 CE
The man sighed deeply before giving the scroll back to the slave that stood beside him, signifying him with a movement of the hand that he could put it back where it belonger. He was tired. He’d been working since dawn in the large, airy and luminous room. Around him others read their papyri, murmuring the text to themselve, or had slaves read the words for them. Truly the divine Augustus had done a great service to Rome when he’d built the library. He longed to see what the new greek and latin libraries the divine Trajanus had ordered would contain, but he was already quite happy with what could be found here. Or at least he was most of the days, but not this time. He’d spent hours looking for the elusive passage, but had been unable to locate it. Yet he was sure it’d been Tacitus who’d been giving that anecdote about the mad emperor Nero… But if it was not in his life of Agricola, as he’d thought and been unable to confirm, then he could not begin to think of another source for this info. And he desperately needed it to flesh out the chapter he was working on…
The noise of someone walking close by and then stopping next to him made the reader look at his side. A big smile appeared on his face as he rose to meet the man who’d come by : “Senator Clarus, what a pleasure ! How are you doing today ?”
The man smiled at his friend : “Ah Gaius Suetonius Tranquilus ! I hope you fare well ! Still working on this piece of history of yours ?”
“May the Gods preserve you and yours, Senator. To answer your question I am indeed, although I am currently particularly delayed by an elusive piece of information I thought I recalled about the time of the mad poet but can’t seem to find ! But enough of my rambling, what are you doing here yourself ? This is not your usual abode, your domus being so richly equipped in books…”
The senator sat next to Suetonius and shrugged : “Sometimes I need an information my books can’t provide. Mostly it is to be found in the tabularium, among the archives of our republic, but here I am looking for a piece of arcane history from the Greeks. You see the senator Pullo and I have somewhat of a disagreement on the exact events surrounding the fall of Sparta to Thebes, and my library has more poesy than history… I’ve come to look at Diodoros, Xenophon and others to see if I can come to a proof that will allow me to win the debate with Pullo. Yet when I saw you here I could not pass on the occasion to speak to you, especially as you have been rarely seen at the salutatio those last few weeks…”
“I know and am deeply sorry senator, as you know how much I like to be of service to your family. Yet in the last few weeks I’ve been fully immersed in my research, to the point that the slaves here are getting mad from my incessant requests for new scrolls… Oh and by the way I would be unable to help you with your quest, I don’t read the Greeks much beside Polybius and Diodoros latests books, finding in Rome’s history more than enough subjects for my curiosity… But ask for the slave Arete, he’s the most learned of those caring for the Greek section and will probably be able to provide you with if not a direct answer at least with the reference of the volumes you should peruse to solve your issue.”
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On the bank of the Tisia, early spring 118 CE
Hecatee
Donor
After a period where real life business (4 academic papers to present between June and August, a new job, and various trips to visit archeological remains and museums in France, Italy and Greece) competed with a lack of motivation following the few reactions from the readership. Yet I've been asked by one of you to keep going so here we are with a new chapter, we'll go back to our schedule of a post every monday. Yet for this week I'll post two, with the hope that you'll enjoy them !
On the bank of the Tisia, early spring 118 CE
Seven days had passed since the large battle that had seen the destruction of any coherent Iazyge defense had been won. All around the imperial tent wounded soldiers walked in order to carry some duty or just for the pleasure of walking and being alive. While not so many romans had been killed, only some four hundred men, the wounded were numerous, hundreds of men having lost limbs or been severely hurt in another way : eyes gouged by the iron of a spear, face cut by swords’ points, bones broken by the pressure of the bodies of the warriors behind and in front of them…
Still, they were much better off than their enemies. Thousands of their best warriors had died in the front line, unable to pierce the wall of wood and steel and flesh of the legions, unable to overwhelm the Romans despite the large numerical advantage they held. The narrowness of the plain had constricted them, hampering their moves and limiting the number of arms they could bear against the legionaries and their auxiliaries, and the Romans’ discipline and almost mechanical way of killing had meant they could keep fighting much longer than the Barbarian. At one point they had even made a retreat of half a hundred paces in order for fresher men to take place on the front line, breaking contact for a few seconds before the stunned barbarians could react.
And then the cavalry had come. Not many men attacked the barbarians from their back, only about a thousand horsemen, but they were enough. They had spread enormous fear in the heart of their enemies who began to flee under the despairing calls of their women and children already being taken captive by the force of auxiliaries that had crossed the river with the horsemen.
Hadrianus had been remembered of the divine Caesar’s description of the final defeat of the Helvetii. Here too he’d captured a very large crowd making a full people, with many of their warriors killed or taken captive. But, unlike his predecessor, he did not intend to set them free and to give them a new land. The proceedings of the sale of the whole lot as slaves would greatly improve the Empire’s finances as well as his own. Or at least such had been his initial thinking…
It had been one of his subordinate who had come with the innovative idea: why sell them all to others who would get rich from their labor when he could as well settle them on imperial lands currently unoccupied where they would be able to build cities and pay taxes forever, taxes that would go to the treasure instead of into the fortunes of the senators. Also they could be settled in distant places where they would cause no troubles and serve the empire, especially if they were to be isolated from their free brethren. Had not the divine Caesar done something somewhat similar when he had ordered the Helvetii back to their abandoned lands where they had served as deterrent to Germanic raids on northern Italia ?
The debate following this novel idea had been fierce, to say the least. Yet a solution had finally been found, with all the captive without consort and all the couples without children being sold into slavery, the rest, being mostly the younger couples, to be split into about a hundred groups of some twenty families that would be sent to Syria, Mauretania and Britannia where each group would found a village to work the land and later to provide recruits for the local auxiliary forces. Those lands had all known recent unrest and could benefit from peoples that would be grateful for the opportunity not to end up in slavery… while also being loyal out of fear of being killed because they’d be the stranger taking good lands from the locals.
Now that this issue had been resolved the emperor had also to plan his next move. He had not expected such a swift and crushing victory on his enemies in the west. He could probably begin the real work of settling the area with roads and fortresses as well as plan for more civilian settlements. But should he set the territories into a new province or simply add it to either Moesia or Dacia ?
On the bank of the Tisia, early spring 118 CE
Seven days had passed since the large battle that had seen the destruction of any coherent Iazyge defense had been won. All around the imperial tent wounded soldiers walked in order to carry some duty or just for the pleasure of walking and being alive. While not so many romans had been killed, only some four hundred men, the wounded were numerous, hundreds of men having lost limbs or been severely hurt in another way : eyes gouged by the iron of a spear, face cut by swords’ points, bones broken by the pressure of the bodies of the warriors behind and in front of them…
Still, they were much better off than their enemies. Thousands of their best warriors had died in the front line, unable to pierce the wall of wood and steel and flesh of the legions, unable to overwhelm the Romans despite the large numerical advantage they held. The narrowness of the plain had constricted them, hampering their moves and limiting the number of arms they could bear against the legionaries and their auxiliaries, and the Romans’ discipline and almost mechanical way of killing had meant they could keep fighting much longer than the Barbarian. At one point they had even made a retreat of half a hundred paces in order for fresher men to take place on the front line, breaking contact for a few seconds before the stunned barbarians could react.
And then the cavalry had come. Not many men attacked the barbarians from their back, only about a thousand horsemen, but they were enough. They had spread enormous fear in the heart of their enemies who began to flee under the despairing calls of their women and children already being taken captive by the force of auxiliaries that had crossed the river with the horsemen.
Hadrianus had been remembered of the divine Caesar’s description of the final defeat of the Helvetii. Here too he’d captured a very large crowd making a full people, with many of their warriors killed or taken captive. But, unlike his predecessor, he did not intend to set them free and to give them a new land. The proceedings of the sale of the whole lot as slaves would greatly improve the Empire’s finances as well as his own. Or at least such had been his initial thinking…
It had been one of his subordinate who had come with the innovative idea: why sell them all to others who would get rich from their labor when he could as well settle them on imperial lands currently unoccupied where they would be able to build cities and pay taxes forever, taxes that would go to the treasure instead of into the fortunes of the senators. Also they could be settled in distant places where they would cause no troubles and serve the empire, especially if they were to be isolated from their free brethren. Had not the divine Caesar done something somewhat similar when he had ordered the Helvetii back to their abandoned lands where they had served as deterrent to Germanic raids on northern Italia ?
The debate following this novel idea had been fierce, to say the least. Yet a solution had finally been found, with all the captive without consort and all the couples without children being sold into slavery, the rest, being mostly the younger couples, to be split into about a hundred groups of some twenty families that would be sent to Syria, Mauretania and Britannia where each group would found a village to work the land and later to provide recruits for the local auxiliary forces. Those lands had all known recent unrest and could benefit from peoples that would be grateful for the opportunity not to end up in slavery… while also being loyal out of fear of being killed because they’d be the stranger taking good lands from the locals.
Now that this issue had been resolved the emperor had also to plan his next move. He had not expected such a swift and crushing victory on his enemies in the west. He could probably begin the real work of settling the area with roads and fortresses as well as plan for more civilian settlements. But should he set the territories into a new province or simply add it to either Moesia or Dacia ?
Near Piscul, Dacia Inferior, late spring 118 CE
Hecatee
Donor
Near Piscul, Dacia Inferior, late spring 118 CE
Caius Cassius Voltinius was furious. That stupid commander would see them all killed before this war would end, and it would not be Rome that would be the victorious party. First he’d wanted to wait for news of the imperial campaign to the west before beginning to move his forces. Then he’d gone with a slow, meticulous, cleaning of the area, instead of following the initial imperial plans.
Instead of coming vigorously from the south with two legions and supports and push the enemy toward the forces launched from Troesmis, he’d decided to use the numerous rivers of the area as limits to sectors he wanted pacified before moving on to the next one. Thus had first the I Italica moved across the Danuvius, going toward the north east, alone in enemy territory, while the forces under Voltinius command had also gone toward the north.
The I Italica had suffered casualties in many skirmishes, it’s progress hampered by cavalry raids by the Roxolani, mainly horse archers darting in and out before anyone could react. The legion had not even received all the cavalry support it could have, so they were unable to retaliate. Then the XI Claudia had also launched its attack, about one month and a half after the garrison of Novae had left. From Durostorum they had gone north, meeting up with the I Italica near the Dacian citadel of Piscul, well to the west of their intended march plans.
Voltinius himself had received orders to reinforce them there, traveling with his half legion and most of his auxiliaries. They were now some twenty thousand men, about a fifth of them cavalry, about to fight against a massive Roxolani army of some thirty thousand men, at least two third of them being cavalrymen.
Voltinius still remembered his shock when he’d learned, more than twenty five years earlier, how the legio XXI Rapax had been destroyed by the Roxolani. Possibly some of the men he was now going to fight had been present that day, sinking their iron into Roman blood.
The Romans were thus at about half the strength they should have been, and had been cornered in a place where they would have to give battle, unable to wait for the forces from Troesmis which had finally left their camp and were coming from the north-east toward their position, meaning that while they would probably not be able to help in the coming battle, they would probably be able to crush those victorious Roxolani left alive after Voltinius’ men death. And thus providing their commander with all the glory... and the loot !
Voltinius chastised himself. Such way of thinking could only lead to defeat. It was not the Roman way. After all did not the legio III Gallica succeed in destroying a force of 9000 Roxolanian cavalry in the time of the cursed emperor Nero ?
With those thoughts in mind, he went to the meeting organized by his fellow legati to plan for the next day...
Caius Cassius Voltinius was furious. That stupid commander would see them all killed before this war would end, and it would not be Rome that would be the victorious party. First he’d wanted to wait for news of the imperial campaign to the west before beginning to move his forces. Then he’d gone with a slow, meticulous, cleaning of the area, instead of following the initial imperial plans.
Instead of coming vigorously from the south with two legions and supports and push the enemy toward the forces launched from Troesmis, he’d decided to use the numerous rivers of the area as limits to sectors he wanted pacified before moving on to the next one. Thus had first the I Italica moved across the Danuvius, going toward the north east, alone in enemy territory, while the forces under Voltinius command had also gone toward the north.
The I Italica had suffered casualties in many skirmishes, it’s progress hampered by cavalry raids by the Roxolani, mainly horse archers darting in and out before anyone could react. The legion had not even received all the cavalry support it could have, so they were unable to retaliate. Then the XI Claudia had also launched its attack, about one month and a half after the garrison of Novae had left. From Durostorum they had gone north, meeting up with the I Italica near the Dacian citadel of Piscul, well to the west of their intended march plans.
Voltinius himself had received orders to reinforce them there, traveling with his half legion and most of his auxiliaries. They were now some twenty thousand men, about a fifth of them cavalry, about to fight against a massive Roxolani army of some thirty thousand men, at least two third of them being cavalrymen.
Voltinius still remembered his shock when he’d learned, more than twenty five years earlier, how the legio XXI Rapax had been destroyed by the Roxolani. Possibly some of the men he was now going to fight had been present that day, sinking their iron into Roman blood.
The Romans were thus at about half the strength they should have been, and had been cornered in a place where they would have to give battle, unable to wait for the forces from Troesmis which had finally left their camp and were coming from the north-east toward their position, meaning that while they would probably not be able to help in the coming battle, they would probably be able to crush those victorious Roxolani left alive after Voltinius’ men death. And thus providing their commander with all the glory... and the loot !
Voltinius chastised himself. Such way of thinking could only lead to defeat. It was not the Roman way. After all did not the legio III Gallica succeed in destroying a force of 9000 Roxolanian cavalry in the time of the cursed emperor Nero ?
With those thoughts in mind, he went to the meeting organized by his fellow legati to plan for the next day...
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Please don't stop. It'll be good to see the Romans avoiding the stupid (from our modern perspective) mistakes they did OTL
Near Priscul, Dacia Inferior, 118 CE
Hecatee
Donor
I'm not good at writting action packed scenes from close inside the battle, so I don't even try : English is not my first langage (it's actually my third or even fourth, depending on how you count them) and I know my limitations
So I won't try to compete with Harry Sidebottom or Robert Fabbri, to mention but two authors, and try to take a different point of view, a bit like Richard Blake does with his Aelric books, but without the humour I do not want to make this TL a wank, so they won't stop making mistakes, but I do intend to adress some of them
Without further ado, here's today extra-long post :
Near Priscul, Dacia Inferior, 118 CE
The battle was going badly. The Roxolani had not many horse archers, but most of their infantry carried a bow. They had heavy cavalry to cover the archers, ready to cut off any roman attempt to attack them, and no centurion was crazy or inexperienced enough to try such a feat. The Parthian campaign had seen to it. Thus the legions were suffering under the rain of arrows, men being cut down despite the shields and armors they wore.
Voltinius remembered the famous Greek quote about fighting in the shade of the Persian arrows, and felt it was quite appropriate: sometime the volleys of projectile were so dense as to filter the light of Sol Invictus himself.
Of course the Romans were not idly standing under arms. Keeping their inferior cavalry in reserve, they had adopted a slightly bulging line, so as to prevent encirclement by the enemies. Ditches with sharp banks going back to the camp’s walls did also help to prevent a flank attack, but the main strength of the Romans sat with their field artillery.
Carrobalistae were an innovation of the defunct divine Trajanus’ engineers and were, for all purpose, a light ballista mounted on the back of a chariot that did also carry ammunitions for the weapons. Mounted as they were, the weapons could shoot above the heads of the legionaries, striking deep into any enemy formation daring enough to try to close the distance with the infantry. If the enemy came into range…
They’d done so twice now, heavy cavalry charges on the right and left flanks designed to terrify the Romans and make them flee, turning around just before hitting the infantry lines. The Roxolany knew well from experience that any attempt to go to contact with their huge kontos lance would lead to their demise: the heavily armored cavalrymen would not have the opportunity to strike many infantrymen while those would be able to unseat them, effectively making them almost paralyzed by the weight of the very armor that made them so fearful when on horseback.
The two failed attempt had left about two hundreds horsemen lying on the ground, some alongside their dead or dying mounts. The sounds of the wounded, both men and animals, could be heard even in the center of the Roman line, alongside the cries of the wounded Romans themselves.
It was a stalemate. It was clear to everyone that the Romans would not move from their carefully prepared positions. Still the Romans had access to the river, so they could get fresh water. Also they had enough food with them for about half a month. And they did not have to worry about a second army catching them in the back in the middle of a battle, a possibility made more credible for the Roxolani by every passing day. That, at least, was the message Voltinius gave to his men to give them confidence.
The fighting stopped for a moment, both sides staying on their positions. The battle was not finished for the day, just paused so that everyone could evaluate the situation. Wounded were brought to the rear of the roman lines, formations were tidied, flasks of watered wine passed around with some bread.
While the Romans thus rested, the Roxolani decided they had no choice. Caught between frustration and strategic concerns, they would have to break through the center of the Roman line, flood between the camp and the legions and kill everyone they would meet there or they would be the one defeated. Four waves of a thousand horsemen each would be sent in succession against the Romans, the weight of the horses hopefully being able to open a way toward the Roman’s rear.
Of course Voltinius did not know it yet. He was amongst his men, making sure they had drunk and eaten something. In the sky the sun had finally lifted above the clouds, darting his hot rays on the ranks of waiting men. Half of the day had already been spent.
Suddenly a great cry arose, the ground started to shake as a thousand horses started to gallop toward the roman legions. Tubae sounded the recall for the legionaries. Hurriedly soldiers took back their positions, holding their shields together to make a wall of wood designed to deter the enemy horses. Commanding officers looked above their shield’s rim despite the danger of a stray arrow, waiting for a sign. Then the piercing sound of the bronze trumpets sounded once more and the roman army went backward one step, then another, as if shrinking and trying to escape the shock of cavalry.
The ranks parted slightly, revealing wooden poles between the retreating men , a first and then a second line of young trees cut and planted into the ground during the night in pre-planned holes which the Roxolani had not seen, the legions being in place early enough in the morning to deny them any view on the defenses. After half a dozen step the soldiers stopped and once more dressed their ranks, their officers smiling at them: their ruse had worked.
It had been an idea of Voltinius, born of previous experience with the horsemen's tribes. The Roxolani saw the threat appear in front of them but it was already too late: the speed and mass of their horses meant they could not turn in time, could not slow, could not get back : the horses came straight on the sharpened poles, rearing in front of them or impaling themselves, throwing their heavily armored owners on the ground where the weight of their leather and metal armors prevented them from getting back on their feet.
Dying horses made an awful noise while thrashing on the ground, crushing the men lying alongside them while Roman spears tried to mercifully end their pain. Blood flowed everywhere, wetting the ground to the point where the poles crashed down, the Romans losing their protection. But it did not matter: the surviving Roxolani were now fleeing toward their main army whose leaders were already turning around. The legions would survive the day.
About mistakes... if I'm not mistaken wasn't Hadrian who decided that legionnaires could serve in their home regions? Currently I've little access to the Internet, so my knowledge is a little shaky, but I vaguely recall that while this decision made sense at the time, it had dire consequences down the line (probably more risks of rebellions? Less sense of unity?). Any clarification will be extremely welcomed.
Hecatee
Donor
Hum I'm not sure about fixing the area of operation of the various units, and I'm sure units still moved to other theaters after his reign, but he did abolish the status difference between auxiliaries and legionaries, allowing both citizens and non-citizens to enroll in both kind of units. What might have been is that the building of the various Limes, with their fixed positions, tied down units but maybe more by chance than by true design. Units had always recruited where they were at the time, but their increased mobility meant that they were more diverse than what would become the norm after the establishment of the Limei.
Porolissum, end of summer 118 CE
Hecatee
Donor
Porolissum, end of summer 118 CE
The Emperor was looking at the map displayed along one wall of his council chamber. He was pleased. Of course the area would still need campaigning for two or three years, but most of the goals had been achieved and losses had been relatively light despite the stunning stupidity of some of his commanders. Or former commanders should he say…
There were still operations taking place, the season being far from finished, but everyone was already beginning to plan for the winter season. Camps were being built for the bad season, using strong points to control travel in the new territories and prepare for the next year’s campaign. He’d decided to reorganize the whole region, with an inferior and a superior Dacia, and border changes to Moesia and the two Pannonia defined by Trajanus.
Thanks to his victory on the Iazyges, Hadrianus had received a formal notification of victory from the senate, soon followed by a second one after news of his legates’ victories in Dacia had reached the capital. Those, he hoped, would be the firsts of many. He’d had money stamped to commemorate the victory, and not in cheap silver either but good gold aurei and quinarii with a gold content to rival with those of the time of the blessed Augustus himself. Of course not that many of those had been coined, but enough for them to make an impression in the right circles.
With his goals now achieved and his rule uncontested since the repression of the Mauritanian rebellion, Hadrianus could look forward to going back to Rome and make his formal entrance in the capital city of the Empire. He already had great plans to commemorate his victory, but before those he had first to see to some other tasks, some more pleasant than the others. And it was one of those more pleasant tasks that was now awaiting him in the form of a man standing in front of his imperial presence.
Caius Cassius Voltinius still bore bandages around his broken arm and his nose was still not completely set. Still, the man held himself upright, proud but still aware of his place in front of his emperor. Hadrianus liked such men and knew he needed them if the Empire and his reign were to be preserved.
On a gesture of Hadrianus came a slave carrying a richly ornamented box presented on a pillow, which he proceeded to open, masking its content to the legion commander. All around the council chamber high officers stood silent, looking at the face of the emperor. Hadrianus rose, and took the content of the box, showing it to all before putting it on the head of Voltinius while a deadly silence had taken hold of the room. It was a finely woven crown, a corona obsidionalis made of freshly cut grass taken on the battlefield where the officer had bled.
There was no doubt in the room that the officer being honored merited it, as his orders had prevented the destruction of the forces his legion was part of. The corona would forever remember those who met the legate of the fact that his actions had saved an army, a distinction that not even the emperor had. No one had received one since the divine Augustus and only nine names had been deemed worthy of the award before, including Fabius Cunctator, Scipio Africanus, Sulla and Quintus Sertorius.
As the grass crown settled on the legate’s head the assembly erupted in loud cheers for the emperor had just granted Voltinius the highest possible military honor, higher even than a triumph…
The Emperor was looking at the map displayed along one wall of his council chamber. He was pleased. Of course the area would still need campaigning for two or three years, but most of the goals had been achieved and losses had been relatively light despite the stunning stupidity of some of his commanders. Or former commanders should he say…
There were still operations taking place, the season being far from finished, but everyone was already beginning to plan for the winter season. Camps were being built for the bad season, using strong points to control travel in the new territories and prepare for the next year’s campaign. He’d decided to reorganize the whole region, with an inferior and a superior Dacia, and border changes to Moesia and the two Pannonia defined by Trajanus.
Thanks to his victory on the Iazyges, Hadrianus had received a formal notification of victory from the senate, soon followed by a second one after news of his legates’ victories in Dacia had reached the capital. Those, he hoped, would be the firsts of many. He’d had money stamped to commemorate the victory, and not in cheap silver either but good gold aurei and quinarii with a gold content to rival with those of the time of the blessed Augustus himself. Of course not that many of those had been coined, but enough for them to make an impression in the right circles.
With his goals now achieved and his rule uncontested since the repression of the Mauritanian rebellion, Hadrianus could look forward to going back to Rome and make his formal entrance in the capital city of the Empire. He already had great plans to commemorate his victory, but before those he had first to see to some other tasks, some more pleasant than the others. And it was one of those more pleasant tasks that was now awaiting him in the form of a man standing in front of his imperial presence.
Caius Cassius Voltinius still bore bandages around his broken arm and his nose was still not completely set. Still, the man held himself upright, proud but still aware of his place in front of his emperor. Hadrianus liked such men and knew he needed them if the Empire and his reign were to be preserved.
On a gesture of Hadrianus came a slave carrying a richly ornamented box presented on a pillow, which he proceeded to open, masking its content to the legion commander. All around the council chamber high officers stood silent, looking at the face of the emperor. Hadrianus rose, and took the content of the box, showing it to all before putting it on the head of Voltinius while a deadly silence had taken hold of the room. It was a finely woven crown, a corona obsidionalis made of freshly cut grass taken on the battlefield where the officer had bled.
There was no doubt in the room that the officer being honored merited it, as his orders had prevented the destruction of the forces his legion was part of. The corona would forever remember those who met the legate of the fact that his actions had saved an army, a distinction that not even the emperor had. No one had received one since the divine Augustus and only nine names had been deemed worthy of the award before, including Fabius Cunctator, Scipio Africanus, Sulla and Quintus Sertorius.
As the grass crown settled on the legate’s head the assembly erupted in loud cheers for the emperor had just granted Voltinius the highest possible military honor, higher even than a triumph…
Hecatee
Donor
Thanks. The grass crown is the title of one of Colleen McCullough serie "First man in Rome". It seems to have been a very rarely awarded honour, the number I gave in this post is the one given by Pliny the Younger.
He'll certainly be considered for the role, but it remains to be seen wheter he'll actually ascend. We are very early in Hadrian's reign, and currently Voltinius is a rather minor senator without connexions to the most elite circles of the Empire, only this crown sets him appart with tremendous prestige but no way yet to leverage it into real power.
Hmm, the Enemy without needs to be dealt with for sure but what about the Enemies within? Can Hadrian beat the greedy senators, low birth rate, and generally poor economy in large areas of the empire?
He could start by banning Silk or other Eastern goods which bled the Romans heavily.
He could start by banning Silk or other Eastern goods which bled the Romans heavily.