British noblemen fight from chariots like the Greek heroes at Troy; and like the early Latin chieftains. The chariot has now, of course, disappeared from civilized warfare and only remains as an emblem of high military rank or of victory. This is because cavalry has taken the place of chariotry, the breed of horses having greatly improved. In Britain there are few horses suitable for mounting cavalry. British chariots are drawn by small strong ponies, highly trained.. They can be pulled up sharp even when travelling downhill at a good speed and turned right about in a flash. Each chariot is a fighting-unit in itself. The driver and commander is the nobleman, who has two fighters with him in the chariot, and two or more runners, armed with knives, who keep up with the ponies. The fighters often run along the pole and stand balanced on the cross-piece. The runners try to hamstring the ponies of opposing chariots. A column of chariots driven at full speed will usually break an infantry line by dashing straight at it. But if the line seems disposed to stand its ground, the chariot column-will wheel right past it, the fighting men raining down spears as they go by, and then turn in behind and launch, another volley from the rear. When this manoeuvre has been repeated several times the charioteers withdraw to a safe place, and the fighting men, dismounting and-now joined by infantry-supports, lead these to a final attack.
Should this attack fail, the chariots are once more manned and are ready to fight a rearguard action. The British chariot combines indeed, as Julius remarked; the celerity of cavalry with the stability of infantry. Naturally, enveloping tactics are much favoured by chariot squadrons. Naturally, too, the ` British suffer from the common fault of undisciplined fighting men - they will always go for plunder before destroying the main body of the enemy. I had to evolve some new tactical plan for dealing with the British chariotry Julius's French cavalry had been unable to hold them in check perhaps he should have borrowed an idea from the enemy and used them in conjunction with light-armed infantry.. But I could count on winning every infantry engagement.
I decided that the largest force that the Empire could spare for the expedition would be four regular infantry regiments and four regiments of auxiliaries, together with 1,000 cavalry. After consultation with my army commanders I withdrew three regiments from the Rhine namely, the Second, Twentieth, and Fourteenth
and one from the Danube, the Ninth. 'I entrusted the command of the expedition to Galba, with Geta as his Master of Horse, and planned it for the middle of April. But there was considerable delay in getting the transports built, and when these were ready Galba fell ill and I decided to wait for his recovery; by the middle of June he was still very feeble and I had regretfully to decide against waiting any longer. I gave his command to a veteran who had the reputation of being the cleverest tactician and one of the bravest men in the army, Aulus Plautius, a distant connexion of my first wife, Urgulanilla. He was, a man in the late fifties and had been Consul fourteen years previously: old soldiers remembered him as a popular commander of the Fourteenth under my brother. He went to Mainz to take command of the regiments detailed for the expedition. The delay caused by Galba's illness was the more unwelcome because news of the coming invasion, which had been kept a close secret until April, had now been carried over the Channel, and Caractacus and Togodumnus were busily preparing defensive positions. The Ninth Regiment had reached Lyons from the Danube some time before and two regiments of French auxiliaries and one of Swiss had long been under arms there too. I sent Aulus the order to march the Rhine regiments up to Boulogne, picking up a regiment of Batavian auxiliaries on his way - the Batavians are a German tribe living on an island at the mouth of the Rhine and cross the Channel in the transports which he would find waiting there. The Lyons forces would arrive at Boulogne simultaneously. An unexpected difficulty arose. The Rhine regiments could not be persuaded to start. They said quite openly that they were very well off where they were and regarded the expedition to Britain as a dangerous and useless undertaking. They said that the Rhine defences would be seriously weakened by their removal - though I had brought the garrison there up to strength by brigading large forces of French auxiliaries with the remaining regiments, and by forming an entirely new regiment, the Twentysecond - and that the invasion of Britain was against the wishes of the. God Augustus, who had permanently fixed the strategic boundaries of the Empire at the Rhine and Channel.
I was at Lyons myself by this time - the middle of July - and would have gone to the Rhine in person to persuade the men to do their duty, but signs of unrest were showing themselves in the Ninth regiment too, and among the French, so I sent Narcissus, who was with me, there as my representative. It was really a foolish thing to do, but my fool's luck gave, it a happy ending. I had not quite realized how unpopular Narcissus was. It was commonly believed that I took his advice on every point and that he led me by the nose. Narcissus, on his arrival at the Mainz camp greeted Aulus in rather an offhand way and asked him to parade the men before the Tribunal platform. When this was done he mounted it, puffed out his chest, and began the following speech: 'in the name of our Emperor, Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. Men, you have been ordered to march to Boulogne, there to embark for an invasion of Britain. You have grumbled and made difficulties. This is very wrong. It is a breach of your oath to the Emperor. If the Emperor orders an expedition you are expected to obey and not to argue. I have come here to recall you to your senses....'
Narcissus was not speaking like a messenger but as though he were Emperor himself. Naturally this had an irritating effect on the men. There were shouts of `Get down from that Tribunal, you Greek valet', and 'We don't want to hear what you have to say.'
But Narcissus had a very good opinion of himself and embarked upon floods of reproachful oratory. `Yes,' be said, 'I am only a Greek, and only a freedman, but it seems, that I know my duty better than you Roman citizens.'
Suddenly someone shouted out, 'Io Saturnalia' and all the irritation vanished in a great roar of laughter. `Io Saturnalia' is the cry that goes up on our All Fools Festival, which is: celebrated annually in honour of the God Saturn. During the festival everything is topsy-turvy. Everyone has licence to say and do just as he likes. Slaves wear their masters' clothes and order them about as though they were slaves: The noble is abased and the base is ennobled. Everyone now took up the cry 'Io Saturnalia, Io Saturnalia ! The Freedman is Emperor to-day.' Ranks were broken and an absurd riot of jokes and horseplay started, in which first the captains, then one or two senior officers, and finally Aulus Plautius himself strategically joined. Aulus dressed up as a woman of the camp and bustled round with a kitchen cleaver. Four or five sergeants climbed up on the Tribunal and pretended to be rivals for Narcissus's love. Narcissus was bewildered and burst into tears. Aulus rushed to his rescue, swinging his cleaver. `You vile men,' he screamed in falsetto, `leave my poor husband alone! He's a worthy, respectable man!' He drove them off the platform and embraced Narcissus, whispering -in his ear as, he did so: 'Leave this to me, Narcissus. They're like a lot of children. Humour them now and afterwards you can do anything you like with them!' He dragged Narcissus forward by the hand and said: `My poor husband isn't quite himself, you see he's not accustomed to Camp wine and your rough ways. But he'll be all right after a night in bed with me, won't you, my poppet?' He took Narcissus by the ear. 'Now listen to me, husband! This Mainz is a tough place. It's where mice nibble iron, and cocks blow the reveillez with little silver trumpets, and wasps carry javelins slung round their waists.'