Varinius decided to send a report to the Senate. It was both a way of asking for reinforcements and a way of covering himself if later he was blamed for failure. He gave this sensitive mission to Toranius, who could provide an eyewitness account. Presumably Varinius trusted Toranius either as a loyal friend or as a shrewd subordinate who knew that it would be dangerous to point a finger at his chief. Toranius served as Varinius’s quaestor, a financial official with various civil and military responsibilities. The quaestorship was the lowest rung on the “ladder of honors.” There were twenty quaestors, each elected to an annual term, and all granted entrance to the Senate afterward. They had to be at least thirty years old and they all came from wealthy families.
While Toranius was away, Varinius did not stand idle. Four thousand troops were willing to follow him to a position near the enemy, if not actually into battle. These troops probably represented the remnant of the various armies of Glaber, Furius, and Cossinius, as well as Varinius’s own men. Varinius led his men and pitched camp near the enemy; he had the Romans fortify the camp with a wall, trench, and extensive earthworks. Gone was Glaber’s overconfidence.
Meanwhile, the insurgents had their own problems. By this point, they probably numbered more than ten thousand people: some women and children but most of them men. They had more men than weapons. But the rebels were nothing if not inventive. Because they had no iron for spearheads, they hardened the wooden tips of their spears in the fire to make them look like iron—and to ensure that they could open severe wounds. Food was a bigger problem. The fugitives were running out of supplies, and foraging raids were no longer safe with the enemy close by.
The solution was another clever stratagem. In the second watch of the night—between about 9 p.m. and midnight—they all left camp in silence. Only a trumpeter remained behind. Meanwhile, to trick the enemy, they propped up corpses on stakes in front of the gates. They even put clothes on them and weapons in their hands, to make them look like guards. At the same time, they left campfires burning.
The trick worked so well that it was only in the light of day that Varinius suspected something. He noticed the silence. Not only was the usual clanging and banging of a busy camp missing, so were the rebels’ special touches: they had been throwing stones at the Romans and taunting them with insults. Taunting the enemy, by the way, was a typical Celtic tactic on the eve of battle. Varinius sent a cavalry unit to a nearby hill to see if they could find the enemy. They were far away, but Varinius wasn’t taking any chances. He withdrew in a defensive formation, in order to allow time to replenish his forces with new recruits. Apparently, he went to the city of Cumae, an old Greek city on the coast about twenty-five miles northwest of Vesuvius.
Whether Varinius got his reinforcements is not known. He did manage to boost morale, but only seemingly so: Varinius did not recognize the difference between bluster and self-confidence. Although his men now talked tough, they were still raw and defeated soldiers. After a few days, Varinius decided to throw caution to the winds and to accept his men’s demands for a second chance: he led them against the enemy’s camp, which his scouts had located. They marched quickly. As they approached the rebels, silence replaced the Roman soldiers’ boasting.
They would have had to march quickly to catch the fugitives, who were constantly on the move. “They roved throughout all of Campania,” as one Roman said. They went on raids in the southern Campanian plain, ranging north, east, and south of Vesuvius, over the rich farm country lying between the Apennines and the mountains of the Amalfi Peninsula. They devastated the territories of Nola and Nuceria. Whether the rebels moved as a single force or in separate units is unclear. Nor is the order of events known, but here is one plausible reconstruction:
Nola sits on the plain north of Monte Somma, in rich farm country. Lying as it does in the shadow of the mountain, Nola was directly in the rebels’ path. They had special reason to hate it because of Nola’s connection to Sulla. Ironically, Nola had fought hard against Rome in the Social War and later against Sulla. But after his victory, Sulla acquired a villa at Nola and no doubt seized land there for his friends.
Spartacus’s men probably held Sulla’s men in special contempt. The Sullans had a reputation for high living. Meanwhile, the men whose lands they had taken were forced into poverty—just the thing to make them join the rebels. The rebels might have enjoyed manhandling Nola.
Then the rebels turned on Nuceria, a city southeast of Vesuvius, on the road from Nola to Salerno. Nuceria was located high in the hills above the valley of the Sarno River. It was a prosperous community of farmers and traders. In 104 b.c. thirty slaves in Nuceria rose in rebellion but they were quickly foiled and punished. In 73, Nuceria’s slaves had the chance to join Spartacus’s men as they plundered their masters’ lands.
From Vesuvius to Nuceria, the rebels had gone from strength to strength. Yet like the Romans, they too faced an autumn of discontent. In fact, the rebels staggered with success. Spartacus’s men now had unrealistic expectations; the attempt to talk sense into them nearly broke the army in two. They were, says a Roman source, no longer willing to obey him. next