Nobody Loves a Centurion(14)

I will not try to reproduce here the many and extravagant images, figures of speech, and circumlocutions employed by the envoy, for the Gallic love of rhetoric exceeds even the Roman fondness for that art. Instead, I shall convey the gist of his words, which shortens his speech tremendously.

“Honored Proconsul of Rome, I, Nammeius, chieftain of the Helvetii, speak to you here on behalf of the glorious, the powerful, the ever victorious nation of Helvetia; ever just in her dealings with other nations, vigilant in peace and fierce in war, fair of face and form, sonorous of voice, generous, noble, and proud.” From this you may imagine how tedious it would be if I wrote down everything he actually said.

“Rome listens.” Caesar’s vividly contrasting acknowledgment was in that spare, laconic style with which we were all to become so familiar. Nammeius was nonplussed. He had expected something more fulsome.

“Noble Caesar, for a final time, I protest that your interference with our migration is unjust and uncalled for. We are a nation of true men, and only persons lacking in manliness and spirit dwell in a single place forever, wearing out the land and fighting only the same neighbors. In the honored tradition of our ancestors we intend to burn our towns and farms behind us and pass through the land of the Allobroges and through your province into the territory beyond, where Rome and her allies have no interests.

“We promise to undertake this migration peacefully, and to cause no damage to the lands through which we must pass. No one will be killed or enslaved, no property will be stolen or harmed in any way. We have no need of plunder, for our movable goods will be on our wagons. We need not forage for provisions, for we will carry with us all the grain we need for the march. You must permit this, Caesar. Already, the smoke of our towns, our oppida, and our farmsteads rises to the heavens. Already the wagons are loaded and the folk have massed along the river. The season draws nigh when we must begin our migration, or it will be too late when we arrive at our destination.

“Caesar, when last we spoke, you asked for time to consider our request. This seemed reasonable to us and we granted you this interval. Now we find that you have employed this time in building a great rampart, the sort of thing for which you Romans are famous throughout the world. I must urge upon you the futility of this thing, for we are not Greeks to be terrified by a wall. When the Helvetii move upon their chosen path, no little heap of earth and logs will slow them in any way, for they sweep all obstacles before them like chaff before the wind. Once again, Caesar, and for the final time, I urge that you remove yourself from before us.” With this the envoy resumed his seat.

“Honored Nammeius, I have considered your nation’s proposal with great patience, despite the many provocations that I, and the friends of Rome, have received from your warriors. To begin with, I find your reasons for undertaking this migration to be totally unreasonable.

“Aeneas, son of the goddess Venus, whose son, Julus, was the founder of my house, led his people from a city burned by his enemies. He did not burn it himself.” That was Caesar; always reminding people of the divine origins of his family. “Romulus, descendant of Julus, founded Rome 696 years ago. We have not budged since that time and feel no less manly for it.” He smiled and the Romans present laughed at his witticism. I could see what the Gauls were thinking: that we had simply expanded our territory and founded colonies instead of migrating. But it was not their turn to speak.

“Your assurances that you can accomplish this movement of a nation through the territory of several others without causing harm I cannot accept. You are, as you have so eloquently stated, a nation of warriors, and while you can lead your warriors, you cannot control them. They will be in force in the land of ancestral enemies and will never be able to restrain themselves from plunder, rapine, and slaughter.

“As for the feebleness of my rampart, it is true that a ditch and a heap of earth are not daunting to athletic young men. And the wooden palisade atop the wall is not more than can be scaled by spirited warriors. But behind that palisade you will find the ultimate barrier: the Roman soldier. All the nations of the world have learned that his shield is the firmest of ramparts, and all enemies fall before his sword. Boasts will avail you nothing should you dare to match arms with him.”

The other Helvetian envoy stood. “I am Verucloetius, war chieftain of the Helvetian canton of the Tigurini. I do not fear the Romans, and neither do my people. When the consul Lucius Cassius marched against us, we killed him and his army passed beneath our yoke!”

Caesar’s face reddened but his voice rang low and cold. “Forty-nine years ago all Gaul was on the move, not just a single people. It was one reason we determined never again to allow such movements near our territory. You will find that our military organization has much improved since that time. My uncle, Caius Marius, saw to these improvements personally and he tested them by putting your kinsmen to the sword.”