Such was the nature of the siege of Cicero’s camp; during the day the Gauls would do everything in their power to create a breach in the wall but never succeed, with the men of the 7th spending the night patching up holes and repairing damage. Cicero knew that every day he held out was one day closer to Caesar coming to the relief. Regardless, he continued to send messages out with volunteers, giving Caesar an almost watch by watch account of what was taking place. Fortunately, Cicero had another ally, although he probably was not aware of it at the time, and that was the impatient nature of the Gauls themselves. Ambiorix's men were becoming bored, and he knew that time was no longer on his side because he faced either the appearance of Caesar, who by this time would undoubtedly have learned of the fate of the men of the 13th and 14th, or the disappearance of his own army as winter began to settle in. It was this that spurred him to ask for a parley with Cicero, determined to use the same ruse that had worked with Sabinus. Cicero, despite being something of a dandy who loved to spend his time spouting philosophy of the Epicurean school and writing tragic plays, was still made of much better stuff than Sabinus, so that when Ambiorix made his proposition, Cicero calmly replied that the only way he could intercede with Caesar on behalf of Ambiorix was if the Gauls immediately threw down their weapons and begged for mercy. By all accounts, Ambiorix was thunderstruck; here he was with a vastly superior force, besieging an enemy with little hope of relief, yet the commander of the besieged army is blithely advising Ambiorix to surrender immediately! I can tell you that when word of this spread through the army, our opinion of Cicero rose to the heavens. His generous offer turned down, Ambiorix left the parley in a fury, deciding another change of tactics was in order. As I have mentioned, the Gauls have no experience, and for the most part no interest in the science of siege warfare, except this occasion was different. Knowing his time was running out, Ambiorix decided to adopt our own tactics and began, in the Gallic way of course, to build siege engines, mantlets and towers to assault the camp.
Under the eyes of the dismayed Legionaries, the Gauls prepared to conduct a Roman-style assault on the camp. On the seventh day of the siege, a great windstorm blew up that the Gauls decided to take advantage of, despite the fact all of their preparations were not completed. Using small pots of burning pitch, flaming arrows and other such devices, they showered the camp with these fiery missiles, relying on the wind to whip the flames and spread them quickly onto anything flammable. However, despite succeeding in destroying most of the buildings in the camp, and almost all of the men’s personal property, they did not succeed in diverting the attention of the men of the 7th away from the walls. Without as much as a glance back at all of their possessions going up in flames, they stood at the walls, waiting for the onslaught. The Gauls had only managed to build one tower, although they had numerous mantlets which they planned on pushing up to the walls, so that the men could shelter within while carrying poles with large hooks designed to pull down the palisade stakes. Despite the enemy coming at them from all sides of the camp at once, the men of the 7th stood firm, and even taking heavy losses, dealt much more punishment to the Gauls. The Gallic tower was rolled to the wall in the area of the Third Cohort, where they managed to destroy it before it could be put to use, whereupon our men stood on the ramparts daring the Gauls to try their luck again. While it was a victory, it was a costly one, and Cicero knew the overall situation was even more desperate. Luckily, a Nervian noble named Vertico had deserted Ambiorix and come to our side at the very beginning of the siege; using his slave, he managed to send a message out that finally reached Caesar. When the slave arrived, he learned that none of the other messengers, perhaps 20 or 30 men in total, had made it to Samarobriva. Such was the sympathy of the native tribes for the cause of Ambiorix that when the slave of Vertico finally entered the headquarters with the message tied to a javelin, it was the first word Caesar had received of the siege. No more than a sixth part of a watch later, Caesar was sending messengers out to the various camps, giving orders. Marcus Crassus, elder brother of Publius, was in command of one of the three Legions nearby and was ordered to leave immediately from his camp to come take Caesar’s place at Samarobriva, while a courier was sent to our camp, ordering Labienus to march to Cicero’s camp, with Caesar planning on meeting us along the way. Plancus was ordered to bring a Legion from where he was camped in the territory of the Morini as well, and not long after the first couriers went galloping out of Caesar’s headquarters, Caesar himself was on the way. Little did Caesar know that we already had our own hands full.
The Treveri first showed up outside our camp the day after we learned of the massacre of the 13th and 14th. Although they did not formally lay siege, they arrayed themselves on the northern side of the river, interposing their army between us and Cicero, in sufficiently large numbers that cutting our way through them was no sure thing. There were perhaps 12,000 or more men that we could see, yet what worried Labienus, and us, was what we did not know. There was no way to tell what lay beyond the Treveri; would we fight our way through them, only to find another tribe waiting for us? Would we be fighting every inch of the 60 miles to Cicero’s camp? Subsequently, it was with a heavy heart that Labienus sent word back to Caesar that we could not take the risk of leaving our camp, a decision that Caesar later approved as prudent. Caesar would have to make do with what he could scrape together, and it was with a great deal of anxiety that we sat waiting for further developments, while keeping a close eye on the Treveri. For their part, they seemed content to wait and let whatever was taking place with the Eburones and Nervii to play out. Later we determined what the Treveri were waiting on was the destruction of the 7th, after which they planned on being joined by Ambiorix and his army. Meanwhile, Caesar was moving with his usual speed, having beefed up his Legion with the remaining five Cohorts of the 13th, and it was on his march to the east where the courier sent by Labienus found him, giving him the first word of the massacre of the 13th and 14th. His reaction was one of immense grief, making a vow then and there not to shave his beard nor cut his hair until the loss was avenged. Perhaps it was luck, although I believe it was the work of the gods to include the remaining men of the 13th in the relief column, because they were now filled with a terrible resolve to avenge the death of their friends. Caesar continued the march towards Cicero’s camp, with a very angry army at his back.
Caesar sent Vertico’s slave ahead to try getting word to Cicero, which the slave did, although in such a manner that it was not noticed for a couple of days. Tying Caesar’s dispatch around the shaft of a javelin, the slave hurled it while taking part in a Gallic attack on the walls, where it buried itself in one of the stakes of the palisade, remaining lodged there until a Centurion noticed it. That was the official story; more likely one of the rankers found it but his Centurion took the credit. Whatever the case, the men behind the walls were heartened by this news, yet were still pessimistic that Caesar would arrive in time. Nevertheless, Caesar moved with his usual speed, and in fact the signs of his approach could be marked by the columns of smoke rising in the air as he laid waste to every farm and village on the way in punishment. It was the signs of this punishment that actually raised the siege of Cicero’s camp, the Gauls seeing what was happening behind them and thereby turning to stop Caesar. Caesar’s scouts warned him of this new movement, so he gave orders to immediately stop the march and make camp. He had some 7,000 men and 300 cavalry that he had thrown together against perhaps 60,000 men, so he knew that he could not face them in pitched battle. His only hope lay in the strength of our camps and the discipline of the Legions, both of which he used to their fullest extent. Ambiorix and his allies stopped on the other side of a small river when they saw Caesar’s camp, which he sited so that from a small knoll the enemy could look down into the camp, far enough away where they could not deploy missile troops with any effect, yet close enough that what was taking place in the camp was clear to see. Caesar then instructed his men to act like they were in a state of panic as they hurried about the camp, apparently trying to improve the defenses. His cavalry screen went out and on his orders, fled when the enemy tried to engage with them, as if reluctant to do battle. The combination of these ruses served its purpose and the enemy rode across the river to surround the camp. Judging the gate too sturdy to attack, they began to fill in the ditch at a couple of points in preparation for their assault. So confident of victory were they that they did not worry about any kind of attack from within the camp, exactly what Caesar was planning on. Instantly, from both side gates our men came boiling out, led by the cavalry, immediately striking deep into the flanks of the Gauls, who were completely unprepared for an attack of any sort so it did not take long to rout the whole force, with our men inflicting heavy losses before Caesar called off the pursuit. Now with the enemy scattered to the winds, Caesar left his camp and completed the march to relieve Cicero, arriving at the gates of the 7th’s camp in the middle of the afternoon where he was understandably met with much jubilation. Caesar had broken out of his camp and inflicted heavy casualties without the loss of a single man; the same was not true for Cicero, where only ten percent of his men had no wound of any kind. Word of Caesar’s victory reached our own camp at midnight of that day as a dispatch rider used the darkness to slip past the Treveri watching our camp. Indutiomarus, at the head of the army of the Treveri, decided that the time to strike had not yet come, and ordered the army around our camp to disperse for the time being. But he was not through yet.