Julius Caesar tricks the Ships of Armorica

Julius Caesar stood atop a cliff and surveyed the wreckage scattered near the coast. Twenty Romans ships were smashed to pieces, slowly sinking into the choppy waters of the Atlantic. His legionaries flailed their limbs in the water, most being hunted down, a lucky few swimming ashore. 

“Stop ramming their ships,” Caesar shouted. 

The trumpet bearers tooted twice. The coastline filled with their blares, and the Roman ships still engaged in a last desperate attempt backed off.

Caesar glanced across the ocean one more time, considering his options. Every attack on the enemy had brought him humiliation. His tactics at sea had failed. Even ramming the enemy ships had been fruitless. The wreckage that lay before his eyes — drowning men and demolished ships — was the proof of his enemy's superiority on water.

“Sound the retreat,” he finally said, as the sun dipped towards the horizon, almost sheepishly hiding beneath the edge of the ocean.

It had been a long summer full of mistakes.

... the year was 56 BC. Julius Caesar was waging war with a tribe called the Veneti— and losing. At the onset of summer, he had attacked their fortress by land. But as he approached, the Veneti stuffed their belongings into ships and sailed away to another fortress. When Caesar entered the 'vanquished' town, it was empty, as was the next one, and the one after that. The Veneti, it turned out, had built numerous fortresses along the coast of Armorica, and it was impossible to capture all of them simultaneously. The tribe clearly no intention of facing him in pitched battle. It then dawned upon Caesar that the wily Veneti could keep hopping fortresses endlessly, and he was left with one choice: to challenge them at sea. 

But now even that tactic had backfired, and a part of his fleet was destroyed. Even Favonius, the wind god, seemed to conspire with the enemy. Caesar clenched his fists, observing the enemy ships sail away. There has to be a weakness in those ships...

***

Two weeks after the disaster, Caesar was back at sea, this time with a new plan.

As the waters of the Atlantic crashed against his ship, he braced on the deck against the perilous rocking. Not far ahead, a massive fleet of Armorican ships was closing in fast. 

“The men are ready, Governor,” his lieutenant, Decimus, said. “Grappling hooks?”

Caesar shook his head. “We have already tried that. Grappling hooks are of no use with these ships.” The bitter taste of an earlier defeat still lingered in his mouth. The Armorican ships had towered over the Roman fleet and even though the grappling hooks caught the rigging of the enemy ships, the Romans were unable to board. The Veneti had chopped the ropes attached to the grappling hooks, and sailed away with victorious battle-cries. 

“We could flank their ships from both ends and enclose them between our might,” Decimus suggested.

Caesar shook his head again. “Flanking them will take us closer to the coast. Too many shallow coves there. Our ships will get stuck, whereas their ships have shallow, flat bottoms and will remain unaffected.” He gave a grim laugh. “I can just see the Veneti cajoling us into those coves, grounding our ships and then taking flight. We must do something they will least expect. Let's charge straight ahead.”

“Through their fleet, Governor?” There was an incredulous look in Decimus’ eyes.

Through their fleet indeed.

War cries from the Armorican vessels filled the air, growing stronger as the ships loomed closer.

“Cover the rowers,” Caesar said. “The Veneti are attacking.”

Caesar could see the look of trepidation and alarm in his legionaries eyes. Nevertheless, they jumped onto the lower deck, almost crushing the rowers with their shields while the rowers struggled to maintain a steady rhythm.

The Armorican ships were almost upon them. 

“Row in between their ships,” Caesar shouted. “Do not ram them.” The last thing his men needed was yet another round of the punishment they had faced two weeks earlier.

Decimus signalled to the trumpeters standing ready for action. 

Three toots blared into the air. Even though Caesar never understood their design, he marvelled at the precision with which his words were converted to signals and carried afar.

The moment the trumpets fell silent, a whip cracked loudly on the deck below, followed by two more cracks — the signal for the rowers to follow his command.  The ship lurched starboard with a sudden heave, and then made a bouncy course right in between two oncoming Armorican ships. 

Behind him, trumpet bearers on the other Roman ships echoed the signal. More and more toots blared— all relaying the signal further along as the Roman fleet headed towards a collision course with the enemy.

When Caesar’s ship slid between two enemy vessels, a great hollering went up. The Veneti warriors stood poised with ready spears and bows. 

Any moment now.

“Take cover,” Caesar shouted to his officers and jumped beneath a beckoning legionary with a raised shield. 

He had barely taken cover when the air was filled with swishing sounds. Arrows and spears rained down, clanging on the metallic shields under which the Romans crouched. The attack was brutal, coming from both sides.

As the first line of Armorican ships sailed past, there was a lull in the shower of metal. From his perch beneath a shield, he saw two more charging towards his ship at a hectic pace.

“Get in between the those ships,” he ordered.

Trumpets blared from somewhere behind.

A whip cracked on the deck below.

The ship lurched to port, making its course exactly in between the two approaching enemy vessels. Soon, the two Armorican vessels bore down upon Caesar’s ship, and the deluge of arrows and spears started once again.

It was chaos. Caesar hoped that his legionaries and officers, discouraged by the recent defeats, still trusted him to carry them to victory.

His rowers maintained a steady course though, not crashing into any oncoming vessel. The onslaught continued as Caesar’s ship sailed past enemy ship after enemy ship, always avoiding retaliation.

Caesar counted sixteen concentrated attacks on his ship — that meant he had crossed sixteen lines of Armorican ships. Surely the end must be close.  Once the clamour of falling projectiles around him lessened, he peeked out from under his shield. As he had predicted, there were only two more rows of enemy ships left. His entire fleet would by then be embedded within the much larger Armorican one. It was time to put his plan in action.

Caesar threw his shield aside and marched on the deck. “Quickly now,” he ordered. “Row towards the nearest ship.”

Decimus conveyed the command to the trumpet bearers, and the ship turned course, this time heading directly towards the hull of an enemy vessel.

The Armorican ships sailed using wind currents upon their robust leather sails — they had no rowers, unlike the Roman ships. He had noted that two weeks ago, and a plan had started to take shape. As he closed in for a kill, Caesar felt a tingling of anticipation. My plan will succeed. 

“Poles,” he shouted.

Legionaries raised the poles. At the end of each pole was a sharp hook, glinting in the sunlight. It took two legionaries to man each pole, and two more to provide them cover.

They were very close to the enemy hull. The Veneti on board were hollering as they rained spears upon the Romans. 

“Hook the rigging,” Caesar shouted, running back under cover. “Hook the lines holding the sails.”

The legionaries providing cover parted their shields for just a moment. The ones underneath extended their poles as directed, thrusting them towards the enemy vessel, over the deck. The Veneti stopped attacking, perhaps too stunned to see a wall of approaching hooks. The Romans seized their paralysis and hooked the rigging without struggle.

The Roman ship behind had also chosen an Armorican ship to wreck. Legionaries aboard it were already hooking the lines of their enemy's sails. Caesar looked on in triumph. 

“Row away,” Caesar shouted. He was confident this would work.

But after a brisk shove, his ship ground to a jolting halt — the smaller ship failed to disengage itself from the larger Armorican one, and now the two were bound to each other by the hooks holding firm on the rigging.

“Harder,” Caesar shouted. “Victory is near.” This has to succeed.

Trumpets blared enthusiastically. Whips cracked and forceful grunts were heard from the rowing section. Then, with a sudden give, the smaller Roman ship moved away rapidly from the enemy, the oars splashing powerfully in the waters. 

Caesar looked back, a surge of pride in his chest. The riggings of the Armorican ship were cut, with the severed ropes trailing freely in the air. The limp sail fluttered briefly and started folding on itself. Finally, Caesar allowed himself a smile.

“Onward to the next ship,” Caesar shouted. 

One by one, ships in the Roman fleet paralyzed the Armorican vessels, cutting off the lines and incapacitating the sails. Deprived of their sails, the Veneti howled with frustration. The Armorican ships floated in the waters listlessly, their numbers increasing steadily.  Some still showered the nearby Roman ships with arrows and spears, but it was no longer a coordinated attack. 

The Veneti’s morale was demolished.

Caesar toured furiously in the mishmash of the two fleets, sending his commands by trumpet calls to the other ships in his command. To increase the pace of the assault, he organized simultaneous ‘sail-cutting’ sessions — two, sometimes three, Roman vessels attacking one Armorican ship at once. 

It took the Roman fleet the entire day to render all two hundred of the enemy vessels immobile. In the end, the Armorican ships were sitting ducks — and then Caesar’s men moved in to board them.

Battling the Veneti turned out to be a new experience for Caesar. Early on during his campaign, he had been at a loss how to respond to the battle-shirking tactics of the Veneti, who simply hopped on to their ships and sailed away each time he closed in on them. What was worse, they had larger and stronger ships, and when he challenged them at sea, he was forced to eat humble pie. But Caesar was a man who paid careful attention to detail. He realized that new enemies have new tactics, and to conquer them, he had to adapt and tailor his strategy to their unique weakness.

There is a lesson in this story for us all. When we face new challenges in our lives, we too should adapt to their uniqueness. Ultimately, victory will favour those who use ingenuity and attention while overcoming obstacles.

July 31, 2015: An updated version of this story (+9 more stories) is now available in the FREE ebook It Happened In Ancient Rome. To make your experience more exciting, all stories in this ebook are linked to an interactive, online map of Ancient Rome. Click here to explore this Ancient Map.

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~ A. David Singh