October 482
The
Flumen Calor (the river Calore) was a deep river of unexceptional length which cut through the rolling hills of Campania on its way down from the Apennines to the Tyrrhenian Sea. A tributary of the Volturno, it descended from Mons Acerno, cutting a swath across open grasslands and alternating ridges and escarpments. Its bridges in the 5th century, still sturdy with their Roman stone construction, controlled commerce and movement along the western coast of Italia. In 482, it was the scene of a bloody battle that would been what had been a minor soldiers’ rebellion into something much more significant.
Finding himself outnumbered over four to one, the leader of this rebellion, one Praefectus Remus Macrinus, was in full retreat from the more settled regions to the north. His brief triumphal entry into Capua was now completely undone as the army of Claudius, over four thousand strong, pushed into Campania in earnest, a well-trained veteran force with an equally experienced commander. The days of fighting off inexperienced garrisons had passed. Gambling for time, Remus left a small force at Capua to hold the strategic town, hoping to pin down Claudius’ army until reinforcements could be found. However, Claudius refused to take the gambit, content to completely bypass Capua and bear down on his retreating foe. Once the main rebel force had been dealt with, any other forces were merely ripe plums to be gathered up on the return journey. Thus, it was to the valley of the Flumen Calor that both armies were racing towards, Remus’ nine hundred closely pursued.
The timing for the battle was significant for the Italian peninsula. Having suffered repeated revolts and conspiracies against his rule, Odoacer viewed this latest discontent as the last gasp of the Roman opposition, a last gambit to defy his rule. The size of Claudius’ army reflects the seriousness with which the Patrician viewed a victory over these latest rebels. His foreign policy was in shambles, Italy was continuously exposed to invading tribes from the north, and his incessant wars against the Dalmatian generals were still gripped in stalemate in the fields of Aquileia. Odoacer was counting on a decisive victory in the south to shore up his domestic position as well as to quickly bring key reinforcements to bear against Nepos’ successor commander, General Ovida.
Both armies were veteran, Remus’ perhaps more so owing to several years of hard vigorous marches and combats that always meant death if lost. Yet numbers were telling, and in an open battle, the odds heavily favored the Italian force. Thus, it was with confidence that Claudius moved his long column towards the river, hoping to force a crossing before his opponents could muster an effective defenses.
On the hazy morning of October 26th, 482, Claudius found the crossing obstructed, with scant sign of his foes save for distant cavalry down the road. There was the threat of ambush, yet Claudius had been fed optimistic intelligence from various sources, many of which confirmed his hopes that Remus was fleeing further south, towards Metapontum or Tarentum perhaps. His army was primed and was a flexible and potent fighting force, a solid mix of archers, comitatenses, tribal foederati, levies, and several hundred cavalry. Once across the Calor, surely his foe was undone.
Remus Macrinus was a veteran officer, who had served emperors and even Odoacer himself at some point. A mix of an experienced campaigner and desperate fugitive, he was a disciplined gambler. He knew his only hope of victory was to entice Claudius into a bloody bridge crossing which would negate his superior numbers. If he could beat back the leading Italian forces, perhaps the entire army could be caught and crushed, sent into route. Then he could move back into Capua and retrieve the strategic situation. For the moment, however, he had to win the battle.
Just as Claudius feared, the Praefectus was arranging a dangerous ambush for his army. With scarcely eight hundred infantry to put into the field, it was spread out in the light forests that dotted the road, enough perhaps to conceal the mix of comitatenses and limitanei. Only Remus’ own
equites, vulnerable and exposed, stood in full view, doing their best to pretend to be a rear guard. Surely the rebels were on the run, and Claudius had but to cross the river in force to find his victory. Thus, the battle at the River Calor began in earnest.
It was a trial of discipline for Remus’ infantry to remain still as the Italians crossed. The first troops that reached the far side were perfect for pursuing enemy cavalry – a screen of light infantry backed by cavalry of their own. Rushing over the stout bridge, perhaps endowed with a heady optimism, the formations were loose, lacking control, and paying little attention to their flanks. As the first units of Claudius’ army began to fan out and deploy, it was time to spring Remus’ trap.
Moving rapidly, the product of hard training from the types of grizzled officers Remus seemed to attract to his army, his infantry quickly moved to attack, bearing the standard of the chi-rho, the same sign under which Constantine had conquered at another Italian bridge, merely a century and a half prior. It was an auspicious sign which harnessed the traditions of an imperial past and a religious belief that was strong if subtle in the rebel commander.
Within minutes, the Italian advance guard was under fierce attack from three sides. There was no room to maneuver, and those across the river now found themselves squeezed from behind by reinforcing soldiers, confused and wary. Packed together in dense melee, Remus’ troops, with the advantage of momentum and surprise, gave better than they received.