As a Thracian, Spartacus had a heritage of making war. In particular, Thrace specialized in light infantry, horsemanship, trickery and unconventional warfare. Homer considered the Thracians a nation of horsemen; Thucydides respected their daggers; Romans feared their pole-arm. Thrace had invented the pelt ast, the quick and mobile lightly armed infantryman who fought at close range with a knife or at a distance with a javelin. They excelled at attacking or defending hills, using hit-and-run tactics, setting ambushes, setting or dousing campfires, making opportunistic raids on heavy infantry formations, forming up in defensive mass against cavalry. Feints, ruses, tricks and stratagems were all chapters in the Thracian war manual. And plundering was a national habit.
Spartacus was born and raised with the Thracian way of war but as an adult he added an additional string to his bow: Roman military doctrine. He combined Thracian speed and stealth with Roman organization and discipline. Single combat and swords manship did double duty for him, since Romans as well as Thracians valued these practices. Gladiatorial training may have added some new tricks to his sword-handling.
At Vesuvius, Spartacus put all his military wisdom to use. Because of the dramatic changes to Vesuvius in the several eruptions since 73 BC, we cannot reconstruct the topography in detail. But the overall picture is clear.
Nowadays, Vesuvius actually consists of two peaks: an active crater, called the Grand Cone, and a second peak, Monte Somma, that lies across a saddle to the north. Before AD 79 it seems likely that the Grand Cone and Monte Somma were joined and that there was only one peak. They shared a dormant crater at the top, about a mile in diameter; its northern and eastern rims are probably today the interior walls of Monte Somma, facing the Grand Cone.
Many scholars believe that Spartacus and his men camped in this crater. The surviving interior walls of Monte Somma are steep, forbidding, pock-marked and precipitous. They are topped by a jagged series of crests. The highest point today is 3,700 feet. The walls are covered with broom, beech, locust trees and lichen. In Spartacus’s day, they were covered with wild vines.
Nowadays often considered a nuisance plant, the wild grape-vine, vitis vinifera sylvestris, is the hero of the story. Unlike Spartacus, it was native to Italy, where it was a familiar sight. Spartacus’s rural recruits ‘were used to weaving branches into baskets that they used for their farm work’. This is nothing unusual for the Italian countryside; in fact until a generation or two ago, Italian country folk regularly wove baskets and containers in a similar way. We might also speculate that the sight of lava ‘ropes’ - rope-like lava formations - on the wall of Monte Somma’s extinct crater suggested the idea of using vine ropes on the mountainside. In any case, Spartacus’s rural followers cut off the usable vines and entwined them into long and robust ropes. Wild vines tend to be longer than cultivated vines, which eased the rebels’ task. Some other form of local vegetation with thinner branches probably served to bind the vines.
We don’t know what time of day the following action took place, but dusk would have served well. The rebels let the ropes down a part of the mountain that the Romans had left unguarded because it was so steep and rocky. The soil here was crumbly and unstable. We should not think of the rebels using the vines for rappelling down the mountain. Vesuvius’s slope is not vertical, and vines are not supple or strong enough to be coiled around someone’s body. Rather, the vine ropes probably served as handholds and guide rails. One by one, the rebels climbed down - all except one last man. It was his job to stay and throw down the weapons that they had taken from their camp, since the terrain was too uneven to carry weapons safely. Finally, having tossed all the arms down, the last man descended as well. Or so the sources say, but it seems more likely that a group passed the arms from man to man at the end.
We might guess that it was now night-time. Since Thracians specialized in night attacks, Spartacus might have wanted to deploy this advantage. The fugitives had carried out their escape under the eyes of the careless Romans. Now, they attacked.
Roman troops on campaign always constructed a defended camp to serve as a secure base both for attack and defence. Every camp was built on a standard pattern, usually a square, divided by streets, tent-lines and horse-lines, and surrounded by a ditch and rampart. As a Roman army completed its march, a good campsite was chosen, surveyors carefully laid out the skeleton of the place, and then the men did the rest. The soldiers slept in leather tents, eight men to a tent. The commander’s tent, known as the praetorium, served both as his living quarters and the army’s headquarters. With 3,000 men as well as animals, Glaber’s camp probably covered about 10 acres.
Because the Romans prided themselves on attacking the enemy, the camp’s defences were usually light. The ditch was normally only about 3 feet wide and deep, the rampart a low mound of earth topped with wooden stakes. Pickets were stationed outside the ramparts to warn of attack and to slow down the enemy. Of course, a dangerous and sly enemy required stronger defences. But Glaber took Spartacus too lightly. The Romans, says one ancient source, ‘did not yet consider this a war but rather some raid, like an attack by bandits’. Glaber seems to have ordered no special security.
One ancient source says the fugitives came from an unexpected direction; another, that they surrounded the camp; another, that they came from a hidden exit in a crevice. It is not clear that they outnumbered the Romans but they had the advantage of surprise: the ancients all agree that the Romans were shocked - and well they should have been. Spartacus’s men probably picked off the sentries and then fell on the men in their tents. Without time to get into formation, the Romans had no choice but to fight a series
of mêlées, if they fought at all. The gladiators were big, agile and probably fast enough to have cut to pieces any man who stood up to them.
Thracians, Germans and Celts were all tall compared to Romans. Celts were known for their rapid and terrifying charges, accompanied by battle cries and songs. The Thracians’ war cry had a special name in Greek, the ‘titanismos’. The Germans’ battle cry was a ‘confused roar’ caused by putting their shields to their mouths; if the Germans with Spartacus didn’t have shields, maybe they used animal skins instead.
Some of the Celts might have worn their hair long or had thick moustaches in the manner of Gallic nobles; some might have spiked their hair by washing it in chalky water, and then combed it up to make them look taller. It is possible that a few went into battle naked, except for a sword belt and torque, as a traditional Celtic sign of ferocity. Any women at the battle were prominently cheering their men on, as was the custom of Celtic, German and Thracian women. Greek and Roman writers registered this practice with shock, and archaeology confirms it. In an immense mass grave of Gallic warriors in northern France, erected as a trophy of a battle in 260 BC, one-third of the bones belonged to women: most of them, like the men, fallen in the prime of life.
One thing seems likely: few of the insurgents went into battle without first drinking wine. This was standard procedure for both Celts and Thracians and, for that matter, for most soldiers in the ancient world. The Romans faced attackers whose courage had been boosted by the fruit of Rome’s best grapes.
Another likelihood is that everyone prayed before beginning their charge. Each no doubt called on his native gods but they all might have shared a prayer to the god who guided the star of the man who had started the rebellion: Dionysus, the god of Spartacus.
The sources all agree that the Roman soldiers fled. Triumphant and maybe even shocked at the ease of victory, Spartacus’s forces took Glaber’s camp. They promptly plundered it. No doubt they found food, clothing, weapons and possibly letters from the Senate.
No casualty figures survive from the engagement. Some men surely were killed or wounded, most of them Roman. The rebels stripped the arms and armour from the dead. Experienced soldiers knew that they had to move quickly before rigor mortis made it difficult to undress a corpse. The gladiators probably suffered fewer casualties, but one of them might have been their third
leader, Oenomaus, the Celt. We know that he fell in an early battle.
Part of Spartacus’s success can be chalked up to Roman incompetence, but only part. Spartacus, Crixus and Oenomaus were shrewd soldiers. Rather than attack the enemy head-on they went after his weak point. They came up with an ingenious plan that maximized their minimal resources and executed it with daring and efficiency. Rugged mountainous terrain did not concern them; Thracians would have felt at home in that kind of country.
Spartacus and perhaps others had the advantage of knowing the enemy. True, when he had fought for Rome, Spartacus was an auxiliary, and auxiliaries did not receive Roman training. They used their own style of fighting, and they tended to have native commanders. But they benefited from Rome’s impressive logistical and support system. Anyone with his eyes open would have seen just how well organized and disciplined the legions were in battle. Auxiliaries had ample opportunity to learn from the Romans. Nor are they likely to have underestimated the enemy.
Perhaps the most impressive things about Spartacus and his men were their cohesion and leadership. The rebels barely knew each other but they cooperated beautifully. Only the gladiators were in fighting trim, even if some of the runaway country folk were probably former soldiers. As slaves or farm workers the runaways were tough, and as oppressed people they had incentive to fight, but it takes more than that to win a battle. To take just one example, amateurs used their swords to slash rather than to make the more effective move, which was to thrust. New soldiers had to learn many such skills (and this happened to be a technique that gladiators could teach well). They also had to fight as a team. Leadership had moulded the rebels into a victorious force. The three commanders surely deserve credit; the Thracian woman and her prophecies might also have played a role.
Glaber is never heard from again, at least not in our sources. Spartacus and the gladiators, on the contrary, might now have been household names around Vesuvius. They attracted many new recruits, in particular shepherds and cowherds from the surrounding area. They were ‘fast-moving brawlers’ and the rebels armed them with weapons captured from Glaber’s camp. At a guess, the new recruits included a number of Celts, who had a reputation as good herdsmen. They probably also included a large number of women, since Roman experts advised supplying herdsmen in the bush with women to cook for them and meet their sexual needs. Spartacus used herdsmen to serve as scouts and light-armed troops and - who knows? - some of those soldiers might have been women.
We might imagine that the rebels’ base was now the Romans’ former camp. There they could have lived in tents, a step up from the open air of the mountain. Glaber’s praetorium was now Spartacus’s headquarters, perhaps shared with Crixus. It ought to have been a busy place.
Basic food and supplies dictated continued raids around Vesuvius. But to keep on winning against the Romans, the rebels would have to forge weapons; they would have to train and drill. They needed to learn how to trust and communicate with each other. Hard work; plunder and vengeance were easier and more fun. Spartacus and Crixus had to strike a balance between what their men wanted and what they needed.
Meanwhile, the news of Glaber’s defeat arrived in Rome. The Senate appointed another praetor to replace him: Publius Varinius. He recruited troops on the road as he marched south. Around the same time or shortly afterwards the Senate chose yet another praetor to advice and assist Varinius - Lucius Cossinius; unfortunately, he is only a name to us. Cossinius too, it seems, was told to raise an army on the march.
It was now autumn 73 BC. The fugitives first encountered Varinius indirectly, via his legate Lucius Furius, at the head of 2,000 men. A legate was a high-ranking officer, a member of the Senate, who was authorized to command in his superior’s absence. A certain Furius had served as praetor in a corruption case in 75 BC, and they may be the same man. If so, Furius was a better judge than general, because he was attacked by the rebels and they trounced him.
We don’t know where the engagement took place, but probably it was in Campania, like all the other fighting in this period between the Romans and the rebels. Like Glaber, Furius was most likely surprised or ambushed by Spartacus’s men, who had neither the training nor the equipment to face the Romans in regular battles.
The defeat of Furius was a bad omen for Varinius, but there was worse to come. Spartacus’s scouts were closely watching the movements of Varinius’s colleague Cossinius. It was now that the Thracian caught Cossinius bathing in a villa near Pompeii - the incident described earlier. Cossinius’s humiliation, defeat and death all followed fast. For the third time in a few months, a force of gladiators and fugitives had defeated an army led by a Roman senator.
But that was not all. Spartacus and his men managed to capture - or at least to raid - two more Roman camps: first, the camp of another of Varinius’s subordinates, Gaius Toranius, and then the camp of Varinius himself. Unfortunately, none of the details of these events survive. But the result is clear: a blow to the morale of even the most seasoned soldiers. Varinius’s men were overwhelmed.
Some of them were sick ‘because of the unhealthiness of the autumn’. Some had run away after their recent defeats and had refused to return to the colours, despite a stern order to do so. As for the rest, as a Roman author reports, ‘the height of their disgrace is that they were shirking their duty’.
Varinius decided to send a report to the Senate. It was both a way of asking for reinforcements and a way of covering himself if later he was blamed for failure. He gave this sensitive mission to Toranius, who could provide an eyewitness account. Presumably Varinius trusted Toranius either as a loyal friend or as a shrewd subordinate who knew that it would be dangerous to point a finger at his chief. Toranius served as Varinius’s quaestor, a financial official with various civil and military responsibilities. The quaestorship was the lowest rung on the ‘ladder of honours’. There were twenty quaestors, each elected to an annual term, and all granted entrance to the Senate afterwards. They had to be at least 30 years old and they all came from wealthy families.
While Toranius was away, Varinius did not stand idle. Four thousand troops were willing to follow him to a position near the enemy, if not actually into battle. These troops probably represented the remnant of the various armies of Glaber, Furius and Cossinius, as well as Varinius’s own men. Varinius led his men and pitched camp near the enemy; he had the Romans fortify the camp with a wall, trench and extensive earthworks. Gone was Glaber’s overconfidence.
Meanwhile, the insurgents had their own problems. By this point, they most likely numbered more than 10,000 people: some women and children but most of them men. They had more men than weapons. But the rebels were nothing if not inventive. Because they had no iron for spearheads, they hardened the wooden tips of their spears in the fire, to make them look like iron - and to ensure that they could open severe wounds. Food was a bigger problem. The fugitives were running out of supplies, and foraging raids were no longer safe with the enemy close by.
The solution was another clever stratagem. In the second watch of the night - between about 9 p.m. and midnight - they all left camp in silence. Only a trumpeter remained behind. Meanwhile, to trick the enemy, they propped up corpses on stakes in front of the gates. They even put clothes on them and weapons in their hands, to make them look like guards. At the same time, they left campfires burning.
The trick worked so well that it was only in the light of day that Varinius suspected something. He noticed the silence. Not only was the usual clanging and banging of a busy camp missing, so were the rebels’ special touches: they had been throwing stones at the Romans and taunting them with insults. Taunting the enemy, by the way, was a typical Celtic tactic on the eve of battle. Varinius sent a cavalry unit to a nearby hill to see if they could find the enemy. They were far away, but Varinius wasn’t taking any chances. He withdrew in a defensive formation, in order to allow time to replenish his forces with new recruits. Apparently, he went to the city of Cumae, an old Greek city on the
coast about 25 miles north-west of Vesuvius.
Whether Varinius got his reinforcements is not known. He did manage to boost morale, but only seemingly so: Varinius did not recognize the difference between bluster and self-confidence. Although his men now talked tough, they were still raw and defeated soldiers. After a few days, Varinius decided to throw caution to the winds and to accept his men’s demands for a second chance: he led them against the enemy’s camp, which his scouts had located. They marched quickly. As they approached the rebels, silence replaced the Roman soldiers’ boasting.
They would have had to march quickly to catch the fugitives, who were constantly on the move. ‘They roved throughout all of Campania,’ as one Roman said. They went on raids in the southern Campanian plain, ranging north, east and south of Vesuvius, over the rich farm country lying between the Apennines and the mountains of the Amalfi peninsula. They devastated the territories of Nola and Nuceria. Whether the rebels moved as a single force or in separate units is unclear. Nor is the order of events known, but here is one plausible reconstruction.
Nola sits on the plain north of Monte Somma, in rich farm country. Lying as it does in the shadow of the mountain, Nola was directly in the rebels’ path. They had special reason to hate it because of Nola’s connection to Sulla. Ironically, Nola had fought hard against Rome in the Social War and later against Sulla too. But after his victory, Sulla acquired a villa at Nola and no doubt seized land there for his friends.
Spartacus’s men probably held Sulla’s men in special contempt. The Sullans had a reputation for high living. Meanwhile, the men whose lands they had taken were forced to get used to poverty - just the thing to make them join the rebels. The rebels might have enjoyed manhandling Nola.
Then the rebels turned on Nuceria, a city south-east of Vesuvius, on the road from Nola to Salerno. Nuceria was located high in the hills above the valley of the Sarno River. It was a prosperous community of farmers and traders. In 104 BC thirty slaves in Nuceria rose in rebellion but they were quickly foiled and punished. In 73 BC, Nuceria’s slaves had the chance to join Spartacus’s men as they plundered their masters’ lands.
The Spartacus War Page 6
