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The next day Caesar ordered a formation in front of the walls of Thapsus. The entire army was being arrayed as a demonstration of the futility of further resistance. Caesar took the occasion to decorate several men for bravery, including three men from the 10th whose names were put forth by their Centurions and the man of the 5th who indeed did win the Civic Crown, elephant or no. Vergilius still refused to submit, so Caesar left three Legions, the 14th, 26th, and 28th to continue with the siege, then sent the 8th and 25th with Domitius to Thisdra, which was now held by Considius, who had left Hadrumentum. The rest of the Legions marched with Caesar to Utica, following the Pompeian cavalry, the only unit that had escaped the battle essentially intact. On the way, we came across a village that had tried to close its gates to the Pompeians, and paid for it by having not only their possessions put to the torch, but also the inhabitants then were thrown into the bonfire themselves. We marched first to Uzita, the town that we had spent so much time and sweat trying to take before we turned away. Yet this time, all it took was forming up in front of the walls for the gates to open. Leaving a Cohort behind, we marched north, veering back towards the coast, stopping at Hadrumentum. After Considius moved on to Thisdra, his replacement was not made of the same stern stuff as he, so we did not even have to form up for the commander of the garrison to throw open the gates. At both Uzita and now at Thisdra, the Pompeians, at least the upper classes, came streaming out, crying big baby tears, begging for Caesar’s mercy, which of course he granted. The men had long since grown tired of Caesar’s clemency, and truth be told, I was no longer inclined to argue with them about it, because I had grown weary of it as well. It seemed to us that it was all a great joke; a Pompeian would be caught, swear that he would not take arms against Caesar again, then laugh at us as he joined the nearest Pompeian force to strap on armor to face us once, twice or even three times more. While I had understood Caesar’s policy in the beginning, it became so much of a joke that I thought it was actually more damaging than helpful at this point, so when the men groaned and rolled their eyes at the sight of the line of men waiting to kiss Caesar’s ass, I did not stop them. At Hadrumentum, another Cohort was left while the rest of us continued our march to Utica, following the Pompeian horsemen and the trail of destruction they left behind.
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At Utica, Cato was in command of the city and its garrison. As we marched, there was much talk of what we could expect when we reached the city. Cato had been Caesar’s bitterest enemy from before the civil war, and in my view and the view of most of the army, was one of the primary instigators of the war. Thinking about him gave me a pang, because Vibius was one of Cato’s staunchest supporters. We had spent many third of a watch around the fire arguing the rights and wrongs of Cato and Caesar’s respective positions. But as time went on, even Vibius had become less willing to voice his support for Cato, as more and more men died because of his implacable hatred of Caesar. Since Cato was in command, we had no illusions that the gates of Utica would be open to us, but the gods had other ideas. The cavalry fleeing from Thapsus, who slaughtered the people of the village we had come across, came next to Utica. Instead of being grateful for the refuge, they fell upon the citizens of Utica as well, killing a number of them before being driven off by Cato and his troops. The fighting with men who were supposed to be on their side so further demoralized the Utica garrison that even a man as uncompromising as Cato realized that further resistance to Caesar would be useless. As we learned later, Cato himself urged the remaining Roman citizens who had helped to fund Scipio’s campaign to make peace with Caesar, a fact that surprised me a great deal. He might have helped the others to appeal to Caesar, but that was not an option for Cato. It was not because Caesar would not have offered his mercy, but precisely because Caesar would and a proud man like Cato could not bear to live with that shame. Once he had arranged his own affairs and then ensured that he had done all he could to prepare for Caesar’s coming, Cato went off and opened his stomach. Apparently, he botched the job, being found by his slaves and friends, who stitched him up. That did not stop Cato however; as soon as he was left unattended, he pulled the stitches out. Then, depending on what version you heard, he either bled to death or actually pulled his intestines out, throwing them about the room. You can probably imagine which story was most popular with the men. In any event, Cato was dead when Caesar arrived at Utica, vexing him greatly. Caesar was not a vengeful man, but of all the Pompeians, he most wanted to see Cato humiliated, and his suicide robbed Caesar of that pleasure.
The gates were open when we arrived, a long line of supplicants waiting for our general to decide what to do, and we were slightly mollified to learn that he fined them a substantial amount to help pay for the expense of the campaign. We camped outside Utica as Caesar took care of his business, and it was while we were in camp those several days that we heard of the capture of Afranius by Sittius, who was brought in chains before the assembled army. There was considerable wagering in the camp about whether or not Caesar would show mercy to this particular Pompeian, though I refrained from wagering because I had heard from Diocles through Apollonius that Caesar was going to make an example of the man. Our general wasted no time; the next morning at formation, Caesar announced that Afranius was to be executed for crimes against the Republic, a necessary fiction I suppose. However, Caesar refused to allow the army to witness the execution of Afranius, which was extremely unpopular with the men, especially those who were in Hispania and had lost friends when Petreius so vilely betrayed them while Afranius stood by and let it happen. Caesar would not budge, and Afranius was executed inside the headquarters tent, with only Caesar and his generals as witnesses. Scipio had attempted to escape by ship, but he was run down by vessels that belonged to our friend Sittius. In the ensuing fight, Scipio drowned. Finally, the news reached us of the fate of Petreius, which was a bitter disappointment to all of us who had hoped that he would be brought before us in the same manner as Afranius. I had even planned on approaching Caesar in order to convince him that unlike Afranius, the army should witness the execution of Petreius because of his absolutely despicable deeds. We were to be denied that pleasure though, as we learned that Juba and Petreius, the former being turned on by his own people, had held a banquet, after which they fought a duel to the death. Petreius was the winner, whereupon he immediately committed suicide. As part of their revolt against Juba, the Numidians sent a delegation to Caesar promising the city of Zama, with Caesar sending a contingent of cavalry to hold it and putting Sallustius in charge of what was now a Roman province. Caesar was now done in Africa, all affairs arranged according to his desires, so it was time for him to return home to Rome. At the morning briefing the day after the execution of Afranius, Caesar stood before us, surveying his officers and Centurions a moment before he spoke.