Aftermath

Death-Throes of the Revolt

‘The whole of Gaul was now conquered.’

[Caesar, The Gallic War, VII. 1]

So begins the opening of the last chapter of Caesar’s Gallic War. Although written after Caesar’s death by Hirtius, the sentiment is clear: Alesia was the defining battle in the Gallic War. With the destruction of Vercingetorix’s forces at Alesia, the impetus for rebellion in Gaul had all but dissolved. This was true to a point, but revolts were still taking place in the following year.

During December of 52BC Hirtius tells us that the Gauls reverted to their old tactics. Following the defeat at Alesia the Gauls had learnt that no matter how large their army, if it was concentrated in a single place the Romans’ military tactics could defeat it. The Gauls resorted to hoping that if they rebelled in a series of locations, creating simultaneous havoc across Gaul, the Romans would have insufficient forces to subdue them all. In doing so they returned to the uncoordinated insurrection they had undertaken prior to Alesia, and in truth they had little choice, even though it had proved unsuccessful in previous years. Early discontent was displayed by the Bituriges. In response Caesar set out immediately to destroy the revolt before it had begun and thereby to stop the insurrection spreading to the tribe’s allies. Caesar’s sheer speed of reaction and unexpected arrival allowed him quickly to bring the Bituriges to heel. Caesar’s subjugation of the Bituriges was followed swiftly by an attack by the Carnutes on the Bituriges, which was also summarily put down by Caesar. In so doing Caesar showed that he was in control of all Gallic affairs.

Meanwhile, events were beginning to develop in the north. The Remi, who had been loyal to Caesar in the past, were coming under threat from the Bellovaci. Led by their chieftain Correus, along with Commius (one of the leaders of the Gallic relief force at Alesia), the Bellovaci were mobilizing the Belgae to war. In the new year of 51BC Caesar took four legions, finally bringing the rebel tribes to battle on a mile-square plain enclosed by woods. The Gauls were confident that they could ambush Caesar, as they had placed their bravest troops on the plain and hidden the rest in the surrounding woods. Unfortunately for Correus, Caesar had discovered his plan and so approached the battle in expectation of a ‘surprise’ attack. Caesar had also gathered further reinforcements, so was confident of bringing overwhelming numbers to bear in the battle. After battle was engaged the legionaries held their position, strong in the knowledge that support was coming. Gradually, Gallic morale ebbed and confidence collapsed when they realized the woods that surrounded them would now hamper their escape. Correus and the best of the Gauls were killed and so the Bellovaci sued for peace. Caesar demanded hostages and the revolt was ended. But Commius, the veteran of Alesia was still alive. For Commius the war continued and an assassination attempt did not halt his desire to generate rebellion – a desire that continued until long after Caesar was dead.

With calm now descending over Gaul, Caesar set about exploiting the country’s riches. In the wake of Caesar’s victories many Gauls attempted to move away from Roman-controlled areas. Following shortly from Caesar’s laying waste to northern Gaul, further rumblings of discontent were heard in the west. The final round of insurrection came to a head at the oppidum of the Carnutes, Uxellodunum (modern-day Puy d’Issolu in the Dordogne). The Roman General Caninius had surrounded two rebellious Gallic leaders, Drappes and Lucterius, who had retreated to the hill fort with their troops. Caninius set about repeating Caesar’s triumph at Alesia, building camps and a wall around the stronghold. Learning from the mistakes of Alesia, the two Gallic leaders gathered all the corn they could so they wouldn’t starve. Similarly, they took every opportunity to attack the Romans in an attempt to halt the progress of the circumvallation. Nevertheless, the Roman position increased in strength and during one of the Gallic foraging expeditions Caninius was able to destroy the Gallic force. Further Roman reinforcements only served to increase the pressure on the Gauls left in Uxellodunum. The final nail in the Gallic coffin came when Caesar himself arrived at the siege. Immediately Caesar set out to cut the water supply to the hill fort, undermining the spring that supplied the hill fort. Thinking it was a sign from the gods the Gauls quickly gave in and surrendered to Caesar. Once the Gauls had been rounded up, Caesar turned to terror tactics to halt any further rebellion. He ordered that any man who had carried weapons should have both his hands cut off, allowing them to leave after the mutilations so that they could pass on the horror of Caesar’s actions to their fellow Gauls and thus subvert further insurrection.

The following year, 50BC passed relatively quietly, but if Gaul was now truly conquered, this was only the beginning of Caesar’s triumphs. Caesar’s troops were still billeted in Gaul but the country was now no longer seen as a problem. The threat of war in Parthia led to Caesar being instructed to hand back to Pompey the First Legion. This Caesar grudgingly did, even though Pompey had ‘lent’ it to him in the first place. Along with the First, Caesar lent the Fifteenth Legion to Pompey, his newest and least experienced legion. This event marked the opening of the events that began the following year and resulted in the Civil War. The war was ultimately won by Caesar’s legions, no doubt in part due to his military genius. But also due to the skill of the seasoned veterans blooded in the battle for Gaul, and the Alesia Campaign in particular.

Consequences

‘In Gaul Caesar pillaged shrines and temples of the gods filled with offerings, and more often sacked towns for the sake of plunder than for any fault. In consequence he had more gold than he knew what to do with …’

[Suetonius, Lives of the Twelve Caesars, 54]

The effects of Caesar’s invasion of Gaul were long lasting, affecting both Gaul and Rome. Before Caesar’s invasion Gallic warfare was limited to intertribal conflict that was often restricted in scale and intensity. Caesar’s invasion brought with it a wholly new form of destruction that went beyond the internecine war of previous years. Caesar’s approach was not only to subdue, but also to create opportunity for Roman exploitation. Roman warfare’s goal was not simply the subjugation of rebellious tribes, but also the destruction of opponents for economic and political gain. If Caesar had simply set out to pacify Gaul in 57BC, he would have returned to the Roman provinces after settling the Helvetii problem. The reality was, of course, the opposite; Caesar not only stayed in Gaul but also invaded its neighbours, Britain and Germany, and thus his actions betrayed his real motivations.

The Gallic War expanded Roman influence and control over Gallic riches and resources, bringing them into the Mediterranean scope of exploitation. Caesar played the role of developing economic markets and creating supply routes into these under-exploited regions. Caesar states that the Alesia Campaign started when rebellious Gauls attacked the Roman merchants at the town of Cenabum, because the Gauls there rejected the sovereignty of Rome. But why did the Gauls attack a market town, when surely a blow against a military target would have been more inspiring? It is likely that this attack was not simply an attack on the unprotected merchants, but a direct attack on the source of their troubles – the exploitation of Gallic trade and resources by wealthy Roman merchants installed in their midst by Caesar. Caesar had supported the position of Roman merchants by the force of arms and probably took a cut of the profits in return. The importance of the attack on Cenabum is shown by the fact that, on hearing of the assault, Caesar immediately headed for the region. In travelling to Cenabum he marched his army nearly 800 miles from Vienne (modern-day Vienna) to Agedincum (modern-day Sens). On the march Caesar passes up the opportunity to attack Vercingetorix’s army just 60 miles to the south of Cenabum. The land of the Carnutes was recognized as the centre of Gallic religion and Cenabum was certainly one of its strongholds. Thus it may be the case that Caesar wanted to inflict a blow against the Gallic religious centre, demoralizing the Gauls. But Caesar says nothing of these motivations and surely a strategic military strike would have been more Caesar’s style than an asymmetric assault on Gallic psychology? Without further evidence it is impossible to be certain of the actual reasoning behind Caesar’s actions. But Caesar’s actions against Cenabum betray more than simple revenge. Caesar actions throughout the Gallic War betray him as predominantly concerned with wealth and renown. Certainly, all of his military conquests resulted in the looting of towns and villages across Gaul and the creation of large numbers of slaves and precious metals as booty. This wealth brought fame and fortune to Caesar, so much so that he could position himself for an attempt to challenge Pompey for control of the entire Roman Empire.

‘but at first it appears that he [Caesar] sustained some loss, and the Arverni show a dagger suspended in a temple, which they say was taken from Caesar. Caesar himself afterwards saw it, and smiled; and when his friends urged him to take it down, he would not, because he considered it consecrated.’

[Plutarch, Fall of the Roman Republic: Six Lives, III. 26]

In the above quote, Plutarch gives reference to Caesar’s first battle in the Alesia Campaign, the battle on the Armançon. Caesar was a religious man and his unwillingness to offend the gods by removing the dagger is not untypical. His smile of acknowledgement at seeing it shows us that he was also aware that the dagger served to represent yet another one of his great victories. However, for the people of Rome the dagger came to represent another event in Caesar’s life, this time his downfall. In 43BC, less than ten years after Caesar’s great triumph at Alesia, a coin was made with the inscription of EID MAR (the Ides of March) along with a dagger and a freed-slave’s cap. These symbols implied that on the Ides of March, Caesar’s assassination with a dagger had brought freedom to the people of Rome. In the period between his success at Alesia and his assassination, Caesar had passed from enslaving the people of Gaul to enslaving the people of Rome. At the height of his success it was the people of Rome, with a growing feeling of enslavement, that brought about Caesar’s downfall. With this in mind, Caesar would have done well to have heeded his own words at the opening of his commentaries on his war in Gaul:

‘When the gods wish to take vengeance on humans for their crimes, they usually grant them, for a time, considerable success and quite a lengthy period of impunity, so that when their fortunes are reversed they will feel it more bitterly.’

[Caesar, The Gallic War, I. 14]

Alesia Today

Caesar presents us with numerous references to towns and locations where military actions took place during his campaigns over the course of eight years. Caesar sweeps us up in his drive through Gaul, and on to Britain and Germany, providing a unique insight into the campaign for Gaul. But even though he gives us this insight into the Alesia Campaign, his account is also frustrating for the lack of precise details on the locations in which these actions took place. Thus it is we turn to archaeology, with its analysis of the physical accumulation of human activity, to fill in these details. As such, the potential for archaeology should be quite great. Battlefield archaeology is a stimulating discipline because it presents us with the evidence of an event that took place over a short period of time, sometimes over the course of only a single day, but an event that often played a seminal role in history. Alesia presents us with all of these features in abundance.

During the nineteenth century, Napoleon III’s interest was sparked by Caesar’s works and the results of his search at Alesia form the basis for many modern studies of ancient France. But his and other subsequent research is often complicated by rushed conclusions or contradictions between evidence and desired results. More modern archaeological techniques have gone some way towards recovering this position.

Before we can excavate the battlefield we must first find it. This is more difficult than it sounds, because often the place only exists as a memory, without being specifically located. This is especially the case the further we go back in time. Although we have Caesar’s recollections, disputes between scholars over the translation of different ancient authors, their interpretation and recounting of events and the various locations that can be extrapolated, present us with different sites for Alesia.

Until recently, three towns competed for the title of Vercingetorix’s Alesia: Chaux-des-Crotenay in the Jura Mountains, Alaise in Franche-Comté and Alise-Sainte-Reine in Côte-d’Or. Alise-Sainte-Reine is currently the most likely of these places and most scholars confirm this. But even though there is compelling evidence of a Roman presence at Alise-Sainte-Reine, many details of Caesar’s description have been used to argue against the archaeology. Contrasting Caesar’s descriptions with the archaeology shows up a number of discrepancies in his description of the circumvallation. Some argue that Alise-Sainte-Reine is too small for even a revised figure of 80,000–100,000 Gauls. But this is to suggest that only the oppidum of Alesia was occupied. The likelihood is that the entire 95 hectares of the top of Mont Auxois was occupied. In fact, Caesar states that when the Gauls arrived at Alesia:

‘The army of the Gauls had filled all the space under the wall, comprising the part of the hill which looked to the rising sun, and had drawn in front a trench and a stone wall 6 feet high.’

[Caesar, The Gallic War, VII. 69]

This means that the majority of the army camped outside the walls (‘under the wall’) of the oppidum on the western unoccupied part of the hill. There it was necessary to build trenches and walls to defend themselves because up until then the area had been unoccupied. Other authors argue that the archaeology from Alise-Sainte-Reine did not match Caesar’s description of two ditches that were part of the circumvallation. Archaeological excavation has shown that either one, two or three ditches were used in different places around the circumvallation. The obstacles he describes are sometimes in front of the ditches and sometimes between. The ditches have been found to be 50 feet wide rather than Caesar’s 80 feet. Similarly, the towers have been found to be 50, 60 and 180 feet apart rather than Caesar’s description of 80 feet apart. Although the variation in obstacles found contrasts with Caesar’s precise description these details do not necessarily argue against Caesar’s descriptions, and thereby the location of Alesia. What we need to realize is that the description Caesar gives is a general impression of the works. His audience would not want to know the mundanities of the individual make-up of each defensive system and its construction. They only required a general feeling of the defences and their structure, so Caesar was simply being economic with his words, and we should not take his words too literally.

Stoffel’s excavations provide some of the most compelling evidence of the attribution of Alise-Sainte-Reine as Alesia. He dug half-metre-wide trenches, across interesting features or in areas where archaeology was expected. The results obtained led the nineteenth century excavators to distinguish two lines of defences, which were attributed to an inner circumvallation and an outer contravallation. Within this area different types of camp were also identified, including large fortified camps that they identified with a letter, and smaller forts within the lines of the circumvallation, which they identified with a number (see map section). Many of these labels were applied without any unequivocal archaeological investigation, and this was particularly so with regard to the smaller forts. Hence we must be cautious when using these classifications today.

Napoleon III thought he had located the twenty-three camps that Caesar mentions, but only a few of these have been confirmed using modern aerial photography or excavation. More recent excavations have mainly been used to clarify the nineteenth century findings, as Caesar doesn’t provide us with any useful information on the exact location of any of the camps. Even though modern archaeological techniques are well in advance of those available to Stoffel, there are still limitations in an ability to understand the nature of the archaeological record. Agricultural practices, erosion, recent tree growth and urban development have all played a part in obscuring the remains of the siegeworks, often confusing or masking the evidence. The quality of the geology helps to clarify some of the archaeology as much of the soil is made up of light-coloured limestone. When this was dug into in antiquity, the unattended or dismantled ditches would consequently fill up with dark topsoil that makes their discovery much easier. But even with these clear indications to go by, mistakes can happen. During Stoffel’s excavation of Camp C, the excavators dug two long trenches in hopes of finding the gate. Unfortunately these ran either side of the gate and so they missed the evidence they were looking for by mere centimetres. This area was excavated more widely in 1994 and excavations showed very interesting gate defences. Excavations by Stoffel at the base of Mont Réa were far more successful, recovering large amounts of weapons. This has led some to connect this area with the final decisive battle that took place at Alesia. In the wider context, the archaeological evidence from the site as a whole around Alise-Sainte-Reine displays all the hallmarks of its identification as Alesia, an attribution that is now generally accepted by most academics.

One could be forgiven for thinking that the statue of Vercingetorix that stands on Alesia today is also an accurate representation of the man. In some ways it is, but mainly because it reflects the Gallic ideal rather than the man. The actual image it portrays is the most accurate depiction that could be achieved when it was built in the nineteenth century. Today we see the Gallic warriors of Vercingetorix’s army very differently. The arms and armour depicted in the sculpture of Vercingetorix, whilst replicating actual items discovered in the vicinity of Alesia, are not of Vercingetorix’s time, but are in fact from the Bronze Age. Similarly, the face depicted on the sculpture is not that of Vercingetorix, but that of the monument’s creator, the French leader Napoleon III. Coins minted in the period with the face of Vercingetorix on them suggest he may not even have had a moustache.

The way in which we see Vercingetorix is inexorably linked with the fortunes of Napoleon the III, the last ruling monarch of France. A nephew of Napoleon I, Prince Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte grew up in exile after his uncle’s defeat at Waterloo in 1815. After Napoleon II’s death in exile in 1836, the Prince became Napoleon III, heir to the throne of France. That same year Napoleon III staged a failed coup against the Republic and as a result was exiled to the United States of America. From here in 1840 he tried again to regain his throne. This time he was caught and imprisoned in France, from where he later escaped to Britain to continue his attempts at French rule. In 1848 revolution overturned the French establishment and resulted in the creation of the Second Republic. Napoleon III immediately ran for office and won a seat in the assembly, ultimately winning the presidency by a landslide. Napoleon III’s position as head of the government represented the restoration of order. The people of France linked him to his uncle in the hope of strong governance, social stability and the revival of military and national greatness. In this respect, the connection between the hopes placed by the Gauls in Vercingetorix and those placed by their descendants in Napoleon III seem to be aligned. Napoleon III’s autocratic side was to come to the fore though after he was turned down by the assembly for an unconstitutional change to the restrictions on his presidency. After deciding to take what he had not been offered, on the anniversary of Napoleon I’s coronation nearly half a century earlier Napoleon III staged a coup d’état and seized power in 1851. Napoleon applied himself to sidelining parliament and ushering in a Second French Empire. During the course of his rule, Napoleon III was forced to roll back some of his monarchy to mollify his opponents and, luckily for France, Napoleon’s attempts to modernize coincided with an upturn in the economy and so a rapid period of development ensued.

The rude health of the economy consolidated Napoleon III’s position and allowed him time to indulge his interests in the past. Napoleon III empathized with his Gallic forebears, particularly Vercingetorix, and so was favourable to archaeological work that searched for the location of Alesia. This culminated in the excavation of the works at Alise-SainteReine and the building of a statue to Vercingetorix.

In 1865 Napoleon III had erected a 7m-tall statue of Vercingetorix on a plinth at the peak of the hill at Alesia. Sculpted in bronze by Aimé Millet, unsurprisingly the image of Vercingetorix looks remarkably like Napoleon III himself. The monument was designed by Eugène Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc, who was previously famed for his medieval restorations and for ushering in a Gothic revival in nineteenth-century France. Viollet-le-Duc continued this revival of the ancient sprit of France in an inscription on the base of the monument which reads:

La Gaule unie

Formant une seule nation

Animée d’un même espirit

Peut défier l’Univers.

(A united Gaul/Formed into a single nation/Stirred by the same spirit/Can defy the World.)

This inscription was to ring hollow five years later when Napoleon III declared war on Prussia, thus beginning the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. After only a single year’s fighting, France was facing defeat and Napoleon III was facing ruin. Two days after being captured at the Battle of Sedan, Napoleon III was deposed and the Third Republic was established, the war continuing without him into 1871.

Two years after France’s defeat Napoleon III, like his hero Vercingetorix, died in exile, albeit in the much finer circumstances of rural England. In contrast to his rhetoric ‘L’Empire, c’est la paix’ (Empire means peace), Napoleon III’s rule had involved France in a series of expansionist overseas wars that were to be the precursor to his final defeat. In most regards Napoleon III’s circumstances were wholly unlike those of his Gallic hero, Napoleon’s behaviour betraying far more of Caesar than of Vercingetorix.

Napoleon III’s romantic idealization of the past is a familiar theme of the time and is visible in the large and dramatic sculptures and paintings of the nineteenth century. They portray dramatic scenes, inspired by the spectacular events of the Antique world. The depiction of Vercingetorix in these pictures is often most dramatic, tinged as they are with the melancholy of defeat. In Lionel-Noel Royer’s 1899 painting, ‘Vercingétorix jette ses armes devant César’ (Vercingetorix throws down his weapons at Caesar’s feet), a defiant Vercingetorix disdainfully approaches Caesar on his horse and, reining him in, throws his arms to the ground with a look of defiance. Here Vercingetorix is portrayed as the defiant leader, seemingly only defeated by circumstance and symbolizing the very essence of Gallic pride. This image of Vercingetorix as the defiant ‘Celt’ is still alive today.

A recent movie entitled Vercingétorix: la légende du druide roi (‘Vercingetorix: the legend of the druid king’), released as ‘The Druids’ in English, portrayed Vercingetorix as a peaceful chieftain simply protecting his home and provoked into fighting by a sly Caesar. The film’s tag line – ‘His people made him a leader. The empire made him a renegade. History made him a hero’ – continues the portrayal of Vercingetorix as a contemporary hero in the mould of many Hollywood icons. These images of Vercingetorix betray the hand of contemporary culture, rather than the balanced view of history. When we look at Vercingetorix we should not see him as a French folk-hero or hero of national independence or even, as some authors have gone so far as to suggest, as a stooge of Caesar’s, put there to defeat the people of France. This perception of Vercingetorix is based on modern concepts infused with national ideologies, and stem from a modern viewpoint that has been imposed on an ancient context. If we are to understand Vercingetorix, and the Battle of Alesia, we need to discard any modern notions and see them within their contemporary world-view. The best place to experience the realities of the events of the Alesia Campaign are at the places themselves. The most important of these are Mont Beuvray and Alise-Sainte-Reine.

Visiting Bibracte: Modern-day Mont Beuvray

Bibracte is seen as a national treasure and lies within the 1,000 hectares of the Morvan Regional Natural Park, near Autun in Burgundy, France. Located on Mont Beuvray, the highest of a range of mountains in the region, this position can mean it is also extremely wet. The hill fort can be accessed by foot, although trees, the slope of the hill and its sheer size conceal the arduous nature of the task. Access is also given to vehicles and the use of a car allows easy movement between the most important spots. At the foot of the site is an interpretive museum, The Museum of Celtic Civilization. This modern building places Bibracte within the wider context of ‘Celtic’ culture in Europe. A permanent exhibition displays artefacts from the hill fort, along with pictures, audio-visual displays, models and life-size reproductions. Much of the display has English translations and an English audio guide to the museum and a guided tour of the hill fort itself are available.

Visiting Alesia: Modern-day Alise-Sainte-Reine

The oppidum of Alesia was located on the western tip of Mont Auxois, where modern-day Alise-Sainte-Reine is situated. The village lies 6km east of the town of Venarey-les-Laumes, about 60km north-west of Dijon and 14km south-east of Montbard, in Burgundy. At the time of writing there are few indications of the battle on the ground. The most important clue is the statue of Vercingetorix himself, which is placed on the tip of Mont Auxois, where the oppidum originally stood. Further across the hilltop lies the later Roman city, which was built on the hill after the Battle of Alesia. At present there is a museum providing some historical details of the battle, although it focuses mainly on the Roman town and its extensive ruins. A map of the battle is located on the D103 on the Plain of Laumes, but provides only limited information. The French government has put plans in place to rectify this sorry situation. In 2010 two new museums will be opened, built by Bernard Tschumi architects. One on the Plain of Laumes will be an interpretive centre with a reconstructed camp, ramparts and defences built nearby. The other will be a museum built on Mont Auxois itself, with a dominating view overlooking the defences. Along with these new centres, a guided driving route and walking paths will provide better access to the battlefield and a fuller experience of the events of 52BC.