In 509BC, the son of the king of Rome raped a noblewoman who then committed suicide. In response, Lucius Junius Brutus staged a coup and overthrew the king, Lucius Tarquinius Superbus. Brutus swore that no single man should hold absolute power, establishing the Roman Republic. Brutus became one of Rome’s First Consuls, a position in the Roman Republic where 2 people would share power to keep the other in check with advise from the Senate compromised of 900 Senators, before dying later that year.
A painting of Brutus swearing the oath that no one man should rule Rome, next to the body of the raped noblewoman
Nearly five centuries later, that principle would be tested. By 44 BC, Rome had been transformed by the rise of Julius Caesar. A highly successful general, Caesar had expanded Rome’s territories through his campaigns in Gaul before defeating his rival, Pompey, in a civil war. In the years that followed, he accumulated unprecedented political power. Caesar introduced a number of reforms, including land redistribution and debt relief, which earned him strong support among the Roman people.
At the same time, he received a growing number of honours from the Senate, with statues were erected in his likeness, and his authority continued to expand. In 44 BC, he was appointed Dictator Perpetuo, or dictator for life, a title that placed him above all other officials. To many senators, this development was deeply alarming. The Republic had been founded in opposition to monarchy, and Caesar’s position appeared to move Rome closer to one-man rule. Whether or not he intended to make himself king, the fear that he might do so was enough to provoke action.
A painting of Caesar
A group of senators, later known as the Liberators, formed a conspiracy to assassinate Caesar. Among their leaders were Gaius Cassius Longinus, Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, and Marcus Junius Brutus. Cassius had previously fought against Caesar during the civil war before being pardoned. Decimus Brutus had been one of Caesar’s most trusted generals, making his involvement particularly significant. Marcus Brutus, meanwhile, faced a personal and political dilemma. Though he had also opposed Caesar in the past, he had been forgiven and promoted. Caesar treated him with respect, and the two were closely connected. However, Brutus was also influenced by the ideals of the Republic and by his family’s historical role in overthrowing Rome’s last king.
The conspirators were not united by a single motive. Some feared tyranny, others resented Caesar’s dominance, and some were concerned about the loss of the Senate’s authority. In total, around 60 senators joined the plot. The conspirators chose to act during a meeting of the Senate on March 15th, known as the Ides of March. The meeting was to be held at the Theatre of Pompey, due to maintenance on the main Senate building. In the days before the meeting, Caesar is said to have received several warnings. A soothsayer, Spurinna, reportedly advised him to beware the Ides of March. His wife, Calpurnia, experienced troubling dreams of his death and urged him not to attend the Senate.
On the morning of the 15th, Caesar initially decided to remain at home. However, Decimus Brutus persuaded him to attend, arguing that it would be inappropriate to dismiss the Senate and that his absence might damage his authority. Caesar eventually agreed and set out for the meeting. When Caesar arrived at the Senate chamber, he was surrounded by the conspirators. At a prearranged signal, one of them approached him with a petition, while others moved into position. The first blow was struck by a senator known as Casca. In the moments that followed, the other conspirators joined in, attacking Caesar from all sides. Overwhelmed by the number of attackers, he was unable to defend himself.
A painting of the assassination. Julius is depicted on one knee in the orange and red toga
Ancient writers such as Suetonius and Plutarch report that Caesar was stabbed 23 times, though only one of the wounds is believed to have been fatal. The exact sequence of the attack and the identity of those who delivered each blow remain uncertain. According to some accounts, Caesar stopped resisting when he saw Brutus among the attackers. His final words are not known for certain. The famous phrase “Et tu, Brute?” comes from William Shakespeare’s later play and is not confirmed by historical sources. Caesar fell at the base of a statue of Pompey, the former rival he had defeated years earlier.
The conspirators believed that killing Caesar would restore the Republic. Instead, it created instability. Rather than celebrating, many in Rome reacted with shock and anger. Caesar had been popular with the public, and his assassination led to unrest. At his funeral, Mark Antony delivered a speech that turned public opinion against the conspirators. Fearing retaliation, many of them fled Rome. In the years that followed, a series of civil wars broke out. Brutus and Cassius were eventually defeated in 42 BC, after which both men died by suicide. The Republic did not recover. In 27 BC, power was consolidated under Augustus, marking the transition from Republic to Empire.
A painting of the body of Brutus
The assassination of Julius Caesar remains one of the most debated events in history. Some view Marcus Junius Brutus as a defender of liberty, acting to prevent tyranny. Others see him as a traitor who betrayed a friend and helped bring about the end of the Republic. What is clear is that the conspirators failed in their ultimate aim. In attempting to preserve the Republic, they instead accelerated its collapse. The system they sought to protect proved unable to survive the removal of one man who had come to dominate it.
By 50BC, Julius Caesar had cemented himself as one of the most powerful, most wealthy and most influential men in Rome. Following his success in conquering Gaul, he had amassed vast quantities of personal wealth. Prior to his conquest, he had formed an informal political alliance with Pompey, Rome’s most famous general, and Marcus Licinius Crassus, the richest man in Rome, which allowed Caesar to govern the territories of Cisalpine Gaul, Illyricum and Gallia Narbonensis.
A painting of Caesar accepting the surrender of Gallic leader, Vercingetorix
Historians call this arrangement the First Triumvirate. Although it had no legal basis, together the three men dominated Roman politics. Caesar gained the consulship in 59BC before securing an unprecedented five-year command in Gaul, while Pompey and Crassus used their influence in Rome to protect his interests. To strengthen the alliance further, Caesar married his daughter Julia to Pompey. By all accounts the marriage was a happy one, and for several years it helped maintain a genuine friendship between the two men. But the Triumvirate was built more on mutual advantage than mutual trust. Once that advantage disappeared, so too did the alliance.
The first blow came in 54BC when Julia died during childbirth. Pompey was devastated by her death, but politically it also removed the personal bond that had tied him to Caesar. A year later, Crassus invaded the Parthian Empire in search of military glory, only to be killed alongside much of his army at the disastrous Battle of Carrhae. With Crassus dead and Julia gone, the Triumvirate effectively ceased to exist. Rome’s two remaining strongmen were now left to compete against one another.
A depiction of Julia, daughter of Caesar
While Caesar continued winning spectacular victories in Gaul, Pompey remained in Rome. Increasingly, the Roman Senate viewed Pompey as the man best placed to defend the Republic against Caesar’s growing popularity. Many senators, particularly the conservative faction known as the Optimates, feared that Caesar’s immense wealth, battle-hardened army and popularity with the people would allow him to seize absolute power. They rallied behind Pompey, appointing him sole consul in 52BC during a period of political violence and unrest. Although Pompey still claimed to support the Republic, he was now closely aligned with many of Caesar’s fiercest political enemies.
As Caesar’s governorship of Gaul neared its end, the conflict came to a head. Under Roman law, a governor enjoyed legal immunity while commanding an army. The moment Caesar entered Italy as a private citizen, however, he could be prosecuted for alleged crimes committed during his consulship years earlier. His political opponents had made little secret of their intentions. Caesar believed that surrendering his command would almost certainly mean exile, political ruin, or even death.
An illustration of Senators urging Pompey to become sole consul
Caesar proposed a compromise. Both he and Pompey would simultaneously lay down their military commands, allowing neither man to possess an army while elections took place. Pompey showed some willingness to negotiate, but many senators refused to accept the proposal. Instead, they demanded that Caesar alone dismiss his legions and return to Rome unarmed. When he hesitated, the Senate passed the Senatus Consultum Ultimum – the “Final Decree of the Senate” – granting Pompey extraordinary powers to defend the Republic against what they declared to be a threat from Caesar.
To Caesar, the message was unmistakable. The Senate had chosen Pompey over him. If he obeyed, he would stand trial at the mercy of his political enemies. If he disobeyed, he would become an outlaw. After years of political manoeuvring, there appeared to be no peaceful solution left. The fate of the Roman Republic would now depend upon a single river separating Caesar’s province from Italy itself: the Rubicon.
A map of the Rubicon river
For centuries, the Rubicon had been little more than a modest river in northern Italy. It was neither particularly wide nor especially deep. Yet politically, it was one of the most important rivers in the ancient world. The Rubicon marked the southern boundary of Caesar’s province of Cisalpine Gaul and, beyond it, lay Italy itself. Under Roman law, no governor was permitted to lead an army across this frontier. The Republic had imposed this rule centuries earlier to prevent ambitious generals from marching on Rome and seizing power by force. A governor crossing the Rubicon with his legions was effectively declaring war against the Senate and the Roman state. There was no legal defence, no compromise and no turning back.
For several days in early January 49BC, Caesar lingered near the river, weighing his options. To obey the Senate meant dismissing the army that had loyally followed him through nearly a decade of campaigning in Gaul. Without its protection, he would enter Rome as a private citizen and almost certainly face prosecution at the hands of his political enemies. To cross the Rubicon, however, meant becoming an outlaw and plunging the Republic into civil war. It was a decision that would determine not only his own fate, but that of Rome itself.
Caesar at the bank of the Rubicon
On the night of January 10th 49BC according to the modern calendar (January 11th in the Roman calendar then in use), Caesar finally made his choice. Accompanied by the veteran soldiers of the Thirteenth Legion, he rode to the banks of the Rubicon. Ancient writers describe him pausing one final time before ordering his men across the river. According to both Suetonius and Plutarch, Caesar then uttered the words that would echo through history:
Alea iacta est. [The die is cast.]
Caesar’s famous words before crossing the Rubicon
With that, the legion crossed the river. In military terms, it was a relatively small movement of troops. Politically, it was revolutionary. Caesar had deliberately broken one of the Republic’s oldest constitutional laws and openly defied the authority of the Senate. News of the crossing spread rapidly through Italy, causing panic in Rome. Pompey and many senators, believing they lacked the forces to stop Caesar’s battle-hardened veterans, abandoned the capital and fled south before eventually escaping across the Adriatic Sea to Greece.
An illustration of Caesar crossing the Rubicon
The Roman Civil War had begun. Within a generation, it would destroy the Roman Republic that had governed the Mediterranean for nearly five centuries and pave the way for the rise of the Roman Empire under Caesar’s adopted heir, Augustus. Even today, the phrase “crossing the Rubicon” survives as an expression meaning to pass a point of no return – a decision so momentous that its consequences cannot be undone.
The year was 52 BC. For six years, Rome’s armies had fought a relentless campaign to conquer Gaul, defeating one tribe after another and extending Roman power ever deeper into Western Europe. Now, that long struggle was approaching its decisive moment at the fortified hill town of Alesia, in what is now the Burgundy region of France. The settlement, capital of the small Mandubii tribe, was one of the largest strongholds in Gaul, with an estimated population of between 80,000 and 170,000 people once the surrounding refugees arrived during the siege. The previous year’s campaigns had been among the bloodiest of the Gallic Wars, convincing many tribal leaders that Roman conquest threatened not only their political independence but their entire way of life. Although Julius Caesar had originally governed only the Roman provinces of Cisalpine Gaul, Illyricum and Gallia Narbonensis, his victories increasingly made it clear that he intended to bring the rest of Gaul under permanent Roman control. Roman armies occupied Gallic territory, demanded tribute, took hostages and intervened in local politics. Many Gauls also feared what Roman domination could mean for their traditional customs and religious institutions. Amid growing resentment, a young Arvernian noble named Vercingetorix succeeded where countless leaders before him had failed. Setting aside centuries of rivalry, he forged an unprecedented alliance between dozens of Gallic tribes, united by a single goal: to drive the Romans out of Gaul once and for all.
A statue of Vercingetorix near the village of Alise-Sainte-Reine, France
On Caesar, he had been a great political and military force in Rome for a long time. After serving as consul in 59 BC, Caesar secured an unprecedented five-year command as governor of the prior mentioned territories through his alliance with Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, more commonly known as Pompey, and the immensely wealthy Marcus Licinius Crassus through an informal political partnership later known as the First Triumvirate. The command granted him four veteran legions and, more importantly, an opportunity. Burdened by enormous debts and surrounded by political rivals in Rome, Caesar needed military victories to enrich himself, reward his soldiers and build the prestige necessary to dominate Roman politics. Over the next six years, his campaigns transformed him into one of the Republic’s greatest generals, but they also made him powerful enough to alarm many members of the Senate.
By 52 BC, everything Caesar had built was at stake. A united Gallic revolt under Vercingetorix threatened to undo six years of campaigning and destroy the reputation that his political future depended upon. Victory at Alesia would not simply secure the conquest of Gaul; it would provide Caesar with the wealth, glory and military prestige that could ultimately bring a rise to absolute power. Defeat, by contrast, would likely have ended both his military career and his political ambitions.
A statue of Julius Caesar in the Louvre in Paris, France
Vercingetorix knew that he could not defeat the Roman legions in a conventional pitched battle. Caesar’s army was among the most disciplined and experienced fighting forces in the ancient world. Instead, the Gallic leader adopted a ‘scorched-earth’ strategy, ordering tribes to burn their own villages, crops and food stores before the Romans could seize them. His hope was simple: if Caesar’s army could not feed itself, it would be forced to retreat. The strategy was proving effective until the wealthy city of Avaricum pleaded to be spared. Reluctantly, Vercingetorix agreed. Caesar immediately besieged the city and, after capturing it, his starving troops massacred much of its population and replenished their supplies. Although Vercingetorix soon recovered with a significant victory over Caesar at Gergovia, proving that the Romans were not invincible, he refused to risk another major engagement in open ground. Instead, after a series of cavalry clashes, he withdrew with roughly 80,000 warriors into the heavily fortified hill settlement of Alesia, believing its formidable natural defences would force Caesar to abandon the pursuit. Instead, Caesar made one of the boldest decisions of his military career: rather than retreat, he resolved to besiege the city itself.
This decision to besiege the city did not initially concern Vercingetorix, as he believed that he could effectively perform a pincer manoeuvre on the Roman army. What he did not expect, however, was the intensity of the siege. The Romans wasted no time. Within hours, thousands of legionaries had begun digging trenches and marking out what would become one of the greatest siege systems ever constructed. Over the next few weeks, Caesar encircled the entire town with a ten mile long wall which reached 12ft high. This wall, called the Circumvallation, was not without its defences. If the Gauls wanted to assault the wall, they would first have to cross a 20ft wide trench, before they would encounter two more trenches, both 15ft deep and one filled with water from the nearby rivers. This defence was littered with countless hidden defensive traps. If they did reach the wall, sharpened stakes projected from the earth would tear apart anyone attempting to climb the defences.
A recreation of the rampart of the Circumvallation
The construction did not come without opposition. Caesar wrote that, during the construction of the siege fortifications, a cavalry battle took place in the three mile stretch of land between the wall and the town. The fight initially leaned in favour of the Gauls, before Caesar sent forth his infamous Germanic cavalry, who launched a devastating charge with such vigour and terror that it sent them running back to their encampment. As the men attempted to claw their way back through the city gates, some even attempting to climb the wall, Vercingetorix, fearing the Romans would exploit the confusion and force their way into the town, opted to close the gates, leaving countless terrified soldiers to be massacred at the gates of Alesia.
As construction of the fortifications continued, Vercingetorix concocted a plan to relieve his men. Under the cover of night, he ordered his cavalry to sneak past Roman lines and gather as many reinforcements as they could from across the Gallic lands to crush the Roman siege and bring a swift end to the war. According to Caesar, the relief force eventually numbered over 240,000 warriors, although modern historians generally believe the true figure was considerably smaller. Caesar, who learnt of this from captives and Gallic deserters, took a bold measure. In an effort to repel any would be attackers, he built a second wall around the first, effectively trapping his own army between two vast defensive lines. The second wall, called the Contravallation, had many of the same fortifications the Circumvallation did but instead faced outwards from Alesia, pushing the Roman army in between the two walls.
A map of the fortificiations surrounding Alesia
By now, the conditions within the city had grown grim. Their food supplies had begun dwindling and Vercingetorix not only had to feed his own army but the citizens of Alesia as well as countless refugees who had fled there following the Roman conquest. He offered a solution that would allow the citizens safe passage and food: allowing all people who couldn’t fight into the ‘no-mans land,’ hoping they would be allowed to pass through the Roman defences or feed them himself. Whilst partially an act of mercy, it was also a logistical decision to allow him to prioritise supplies for his own men. However, upon their reaching of the wall, Caesar denied the group, largely consisting of women and children, passage through his line. Vercingetorix also refused to readmit them, knowing that every extra mouth consumed precious food that his warriors needed if they were to survive until the relief army arrived. For days, the abandoned civilians wandered the narrow strip of land between the Roman and Gallic defences, begging both sides for food. Neither relented. Many eventually died where they stood, victims of a siege in which starvation had become another weapon of war.
Hoping to overwhelm the Romans, the Gallic relief army launched a major assault under the cover of darkness while Vercingetorix ordered simultaneous attacks from inside Alesia. Making use of ladders and wicker hurdles to bypass trenches and hooks to destroy the spikes, some of the Gallic army managed to begin to scale the wall, while arrows and other projectiles kept the Romans at bay. However, they were met by disciplined Roman legionaries, who fought from behind the ramparts and cut them down as they attempted to crest the peak of the wall. The onslaught lasted until dawn, with the morning light of day revealing the scale of the carnage. Both side suffered losses but the Romans held the line. The wall was still standing.
An illustration of Gallic warriors and Roman Legionnaires fighting at Alesia
Meanwhile, Commius, one of the commanders of the reinforcements, recognised that one section of Caesar’s outer line, built across steep and uneven ground, was less formidable than the rest. On high ground now commonly identified as Mount Réa, some of his scouts had identified a weak point where the Romans had failed to construct adequate fortifications due to hilly terrain. Commius deduced that if Caesar could be distracted by a more direct assault that a force, led led by Vercassivellaunus – a cousin of Vercingetorix according to Caesar, could breach the Roman line and liberate the town.
The attack went ahead at daybreak, with both the inner and outer wall under assault simultaneously. Caesar, notified of the assault near Mount Réa, took decisive action, going into the field of battle himself to confront the assault, Donning his distinctive scarlet commander’s cloak so his men could see him, Caesar rode to the threatened sector and ordered his cavalry to break from the fortifications and flank the force at Mount Réa from behind. Their final chance at repelling Rome dwindled in a second as the cavalry cut down the men behind them. The Gauls panicked, broke rank and were massacred in what had now quickly turned into a slaughter. The scene of them being trampled and cut to death caused the rest of the army to flee. They lost the battle. The next day, Vercingetorix surrendered to Caesar. Later Roman writers claimed he rode from the city in full armour before laying his weapons at Caesar’s feet, although whether the surrender unfolded exactly this way remains uncertain. The Gallic wars were over and Caesar was triumphant.
A painting of Vercingetorix surrendering to Caesar
Vercingetorix remained a prisoner for six years before being displayed in Caesar’s triumph through Rome in 46 BC. Once the celebrations ended, he was executed by strangulation in the Tullianum prison. His defeat marked the effective end of organised Gallic resistance and brought almost all of Gaul under Roman rule. For Caesar, Alesia was the crowning achievement of the Gallic Wars. The conquest made him unimaginably wealthy, won him the unwavering loyalty of his veteran legions and transformed him into the Republic’s most celebrated general. Yet his growing prestige alarmed many senators back in Rome. In many ways, the siege of Alesia did not simply decide the fate of Gaul; it set Rome itself on the path from republic to empire.
