C. 9.—­The British army also struck camp, and kept pace by land with the invaders’ progress.  First came the cavalry and chariot-men, the mounted infantry of the day; then followed the main body, who in the British as in every army, ancient or modern, fought on foot.  We can picture the scene, the bright harvest afternoon—­(according to the calculations of Napoleon, in his ‘Life of Caesar,’ it was St. Bartholomew’s Day)—­the calm sea, the long Roman galleys with their rows of sweeps, the heavier and broader transports with their great mainsails rounding out to the gentle breeze, and on cliff and beach the British ranks in their waving tartans—­each clan, probably, distinguished by its own pattern—­the bright armour of the chieftains, the thick array of weapons, and in front the mounted contingent hurrying onwards to give the foe a warm greeting ere he could set foot on shore.

C. 10.—­Thus did invaders and defenders move on, for some seven miles, passing, as Dio Cassius notes, beneath the lofty cliffs of the South Foreland,[80] till these died down into the flat shore and open beach of Deal.  By this time it must have been nearly five o’clock, and if Caesar was to land at all that day it must be done at once.  Anchor was again cast; but so flat was the shore that the transports, which drew at least four feet of water, could not come within some distance of it.  Between the legionaries and the land stretched yards of sea, shoulder-deep to begin with, and concealing who could say what treacherous holes and quicksands beneath its surface.  And their wading had to be done under heavy fire; for the British cavalry and chariots had already come up, and occupied every yard of the beach, greeting with a shower of missiles every motion of the Romans to disembark.  This was more than even Caesar’s soldiers were quite prepared to face.  The men, small shame to them, hesitated, and did not spring overboard with the desired alacrity.  Caesar’s galleys, however, were of lighter draught, and with them he made a demonstration on the right flank (the latus apertum of ancient warfare, the shield being on every man’s left arm) of the British; who, under a severe fire of slings, arrows, and catapults, drew back, though only a little, to take up a new formation, and their fire, in turn, was for the moment silenced.  And that moment was seized for a gallant feat of arms which shows how every rank of Caesar’s army was animated by Caesar’s spirit.

C. 11.—­The ensign of every Roman legion was the Roman Eagle, perched upon the head of the standard-pole, and regarded with all, and more than all, the feeling which our own regiments have for their regimental colours.  As with them, the staff which bore the Eagle of the Legion also bore inscriptions commemorating the honours and victories the legion had won, and to lose it to the foe was an even greater disgrace than with us.  For a Roman legion was a much larger unit than a modern regiment, and corresponded