AT THE FOOT OF THE ALPS.
When the carnage was completed and the last blow struck, Hannibal
sent for his general of engineers. Monomachus shortly appeared before
him, sword in hand, panting for breath, and covered with blood from
head to foot. A large and long gash upon his swarthy cheek by no means
lessened the ferocity of his appearance, at which Chœras, who was
standing by, tittered audibly.
“Wherefore hast thou this most sanguinary aspect, oh my chief of
pioneers?” quoth the general, in a tone of assumed severity, for he
was really in high good humour. “Thou hast surely not quitted thy post
on the opposite bank, where thy duties were to complete and guard the
means of transport across the river, and joined in the fight wherewith
thy duties had neither part nor parcel?”
Before replying, Monomachus calmly piled three corpses of the Gauls
together, two below and then one on the top, upon which gruesome group
he seated himself as comfortably as possible. Then wiping the blood
streaming from his face, he replied:
“Nay, thanks be to the gods! I had no cause to leave my post on the
elephant rafts to be able to slay a few of the cursed barbarians. But
a party of about a dozen of them had in flight seized a boat, and, by
the mercy of Moloch, just as I was fretting at mine inaction, they
chanced to come my way. So I just killed the lot. One fellow, however,
proved a bit nasty, and gave me this little remembrance.” Again he
wiped his face. “He was the last of them all,” he continued, “so I
had, fortunately, time to make an example of him, although he fought
hard, and scarcely seemed to appreciate my kind attentions.”
“What didst thou do?” questioned Hannibal.
The butcher grinned ferociously, but made no reply at first.
“How didst thou make an example of him?” again questioned his
commander.
“I took him by the waist,” answered Monomachus, “and, for all his
struggles and cries, thrust his head into the mouth of that savage
bull elephant, that king of beasts whom the men call Moloch. It was
the champing up of his skull that has caused my armour and clothing to
thus become somewhat discoloured.” And he looked down with a grim
glance of satisfaction at his bloody attire.
“Methinks ’tis thou who should be named the king of beasts more
rightly than the elephant after such an exploit as that; but, for all
that, I thank thee, Monomachus, for thy skilful arrangements for the
crossing of the river, and likewise for thy gallant defence of the
raft, for Sosilus here, who was by me, taking notes as usual, pointed
thee out to me while engaged in first killing the runaway Gauls, and
then feeding the elephant on such unaccustomed food; and, by my troth,
I think I saw thee slay nearer twenty than twelve of the barbarians.
What was the exact number of them, by the by, Sosilus?”
“Ay,” responded the sage, “the carnage being almost completed on this
bank, I, with a view to some amplifications of a work I am commencing,
called, ‘Duties and Developments of Modern Warfare,’ turned my
attention to thee, oh Monomachus! after having first noted that
foolish young man, Chœras, finishing off, in most artistic style, a
naked Gaul of twice his size, with whom he had been indulging in a
somewhat prolonged combat. I requested him then to assist me in
checking the numbers of the Gauls, whom thou mightest thyself despatch
single-handed, which amounted in grand total to just--so Chœras
reckoned--eighteen and a half.”
“Eighteen and a half?” grumped out the man of blood. “How could I kill
eighteen men and a half? It must have been either eighteen or
nineteen. I could not kill half a man.”
“Easily enough,” here interrupted Chœras, who was answerable for the
numbers. “First thou didst slay eighteen barbarians, then thou didst
half-kill a nineteenth. The remainder of him thou gavest, oh most
bloody Monomachus, unto the elephant. Hence thou hast for thine own
grand total of slain got evidently only eighteen and a half. And thus
thou thyself hast killed half a man. It is simple enough when thou
understandeth arithmetic.”
The jest was a good enough one for the occasion. Monomachus, who was
not pleased at it, however, growled out a curse at Chœras and his
flippant tongue, while Hannibal laughed outright.
“Well, repose thyself awhile on thy ghastly but apparently comfortable
couch, oh thou slayer of half men, or half slayer of whole men, to
quote Chœras, and then bring across the elephants. This evening will
do, for the army will rest here until mid-day, and the cavalry and
elephants, with which both I and thou will remain, will form the rear
guard. After mid-day, the remainder of the army will march northward
up the river, but we will ourselves first destroy the boats and rafts,
and then follow. Should Scipio wish to cross in turn, he will be
somewhat puzzled, I fancy. We will take our lightly-wounded with us on
the elephants and spare horses; the rest, I regret to say, we shall
have to destroy to avoid the risk they will otherwise run of torture
or crucifixion if left behind. But now, methinks, we all want some
food and wine, of which, fortunately, plenty hath been captured here.”
While Hannibal and Monomachus were talking, Mago and Maharbal rode up.
The latter looked none the worse for his fall on the previous day, and
both were flushed with the delights of victory. Mago threw himself
from his horse and embraced his brother, after first throwing at his
feet a mass of golden collars and necklaces he had brought in as
spoils. Maharbal modestly remained by his horse after saluting the
Chief. He also unloaded many spoils of golden ornaments, and laid them
on the ground. He was unwounded and triumphant, his sword red with
gore from point to hilt; but he was too exhausted to utter a word. He
had that day, indeed, dealt death to many a Gaul, and richly revenged
his reverse at the hands of Scipio’s cavalry. Hannibal knew how to
reward valour, and knew also full well the meaning of the old Roman
proverb that he gives twice who gives quickly. Taking his own
necklace, he threw it round Maharbal’s neck. Taking his own sword, he
presented it to his general, Hanno, son of Bomilcar. To his brother
Mago he gave nothing, save a return of the salute that his brother had
given to him and a compliment.
“Mago, I knew already that thou wert my brother; this day thou hast
proved also that thou art the son of Hamilcar.” And he fell upon his
brother’s neck.
The troops, crowding round, shouted till they were hoarse in
acclamation of this pithy sentence, and then the whole camp became for
an hour or two a camp of rest.
A few days later, the whole Carthaginian army, having marched to the
northward, found itself in the country of the Allobroges. These people
were not particularly the allies of Rome, yet were subsidised by them,
and therefore hostile to Hannibal. They were a race inhabiting the
slopes of the Alps, and very warlike. Their numbers were great, and
the mixed troops of the Carthaginian army were excessively alarmed at
the opposition that they were likely to receive from this very hostile
people. But a strange and lucky chance intervened. At the foot of the
passes of the Alps, the advancing Carthaginian army suddenly came upon
two armies, drawn up in warlike array, about to attack each other.
These armies were those of a certain king of the Gauls and his
brother, who were at war for the succession. Each sent to him, before
the battle commenced, envoys asking his help. Hannibal instantly threw
in his lot with the elder brother, and together they fell upon the
other, and, after a short but bloody fight, routed him completely.
After this the Carthaginian troops were so welcomed with wine and
food, and every other species of enjoyment, that for a day or two all
discipline was relaxed in the camp, and all hardships forgotten. And
then the Gallic king, having furnished the invaders with all kind of
provisions, with new weapons, with pack horses and mules, ay, even
boots for all the army, set forth with them, giving guides for an
advance guard across the first Alpine ranges, and himself, with all
his own forces, forming a rear guard for the army for protection
against the Allobroges. But at the foot of the Alps, with many
regrets, he left Hannibal, for this king of the Gauls was not strong
enough to leave his own kingdom further.
Abandoned by their ally, the Carthaginian forces were appalled as they
reached the foot of the first range, for from the plain below every
vantage point could be seen gleaming with the spears of the
Allobroges, who were determined to resist to the death the further
advance of the Phœnician forces.
The enemy crowded every mountain-top; they thronged in the pass
itself; it looked, indeed, as if the way were barred as by bars of
iron. At least, so it seemed to all the army, except to the brave and
astute Commander himself. For a few days he encamped at the foot of
the pass, remaining inactive, and resting his men. During this period,
the worthy Sosilus frequently pointed out that, according to parallel
cases, the only thing to be done was to go round and advance by some
other way. Chœras, likewise, when appealed to in council round the
camp fire, merely broke forth into verse. He did not like mountain
warfare; the plains suited him far better as a cavalry soldier;
further, he was one of those who wanted first to go back to the coast,
fight and defeat the Romans there, and proceed the rest of the way to
Italy by sea.
Therefore, when Hannibal, although well knowing his own mind as usual,
merely to keep his officers in good humour, asked the opinion of each,
including Chœras, the latter answered while tossing off a cup of
wine:--
“Most brave Commander, since thou wilt
The way seek out, ’tis plain,
For mountains suit not cavalry,
And elephants are vain.
Thus to the low ground keep thy force,
And march south to the coast,
There scourge the Roman with the horse
That is thine army’s boast.
Then from Iberia fetch the fleet,
’Twill danger save and toil,
While we, refresh’d, shall Romans meet
Upon Italian soil.”
Hannibal merely smiled, and then turned to Monomachus.
“And what wouldst thou do, my blood-thirsty general of engineers?
Canst thou not build us a bridge overhead of these barbarians, or else
dig us a tunnel below them. For to the other side of the Alps we go or
die.”
Monomachus rose, and lifting his sword, shook it savagely in the
direction of the foe on the heights ere he replied.
“Build thee a bridge, Hannibal? Ay, that can I, if thou but let me
head the van. I will build thee a solid bridge over the living with
the bodies of the dead. Dig thee a tunnel? Ay, that will I also with
this good sword, right through their livers and intestines. ’Tis a
kind of engineering that suits me right well, and I long to be at it
now. My right arm is grown quite stiff for want of practice; ’tis nigh
fifteen days since I have slain a Gaul, for I was engaged in
road-mending during thy fight the other day. But now, methinks, the
time hath come for my subordinate Hasdrubal to do a little more of the
road-making work, and for me to get back to mine old trade of
fighting. I must appeal to my good friend Sosilus to find me some
parallel cases. Say, oh learned one, hast thou not at thy command some
quotation ready from the ninety-ninth chapter of the hundred and
eleventh book of someone or another wherewith to convince our gallant
Commander that I am far more adapted to wield a sword than a
pick-axe?”
“Ay, indeed,” answered Sosilus readily; “there is just such a case on
record, and I have it here in a pamphlet which I have among many
others in the pockets of my tunic.”
He commenced fumbling in his bosom, but before he had time to
demonstrate with chapter and verse the similarity of the cases,
several Gauls arrived on the scene, to whom Hannibal instantly gave
private audience in his tent.
They were spies from among the guides supplied by the friendly Gallic
king, and they had important news to communicate.
When presently Hannibal re-issued from his tent he once more addressed
Monomachus.
“Thy wish shall be granted; thou shalt come with me, and that this
very night, and thy weapon in sooth shall be a sword, not a pick-axe.
For I find that yonder hostile barbarians stay not on the heights by
night, but retire to a town within the hills, of which the name is
called, I think, Brundisium, daily re-occupying their posts at dawn. I
myself shall therefore creep up the passes this night with a chosen
band and occupy the points of vantage whereon we see their armour now
shining. At daybreak the rest of the army, under command of General
Hanno, will commence the ascent, all the cavalry and the pack animals
being placed in the van; then the infantry. Lastly, the elephants will
follow with a rear-guard under thy lieutenant Hasdrubal, the pioneer,
who will destroy the road after them for a double purpose--to prevent
the Gauls from pursuing us, and to prevent our own men from
retreating. For, once embarked upon these Alpine passes, there is to
be no going backward. We conquer or we die; we do not return.”
Then spoke up Mago. “Brother, thou art the Commander-in-chief. It is
not meet that thou shouldst go upon this hazardous expedition by night
upon these unknown mountain passes. What will the army do if thou
shouldst fall either by the hand of the enemy, or over some precipice?
General Hanno is, indeed, most worthy of all trust, but it is not to
him that the whole force looks for confidence. Therefore, I pray thee,
send me forward in thy stead this night, and stay thou here. My life
is of little worth--thine all important.”
“Not so, Mago,” answered Hannibal; “if confidence be needed it will be
gained by seeing that the first man to mount the Alpine passes is the
Commander-in-chief himself. But give thou unto me thine own sword,
’tis one of our father Hamilcar’s, and will bring me luck this night,
for it was blessed in the temple of Moloch in Carthage; mine own I
gave unto Hanno. I will wield it in thine honour and mine own, and
return it unto thee to-morrow if I yet live. Meanwhile, take thou
another from those I have in my tent; I have several there of great
value and good metal.”
With great ceremony, and invoking the blessing of the gods, Mago arose
and invested Hannibal with his sword, a magnificent weapon of truest
steel which had, indeed, been borne by Hamilcar in many a fight.
That night all the watch-fires were lighted as usual in front of the
Carthaginian lines. Nothing in the camp indicated that an advance was
intended, and the Gauls on the heights, deceived completely by the
apparent inaction on the part of the foe, retired as usual from the
mountain crests crowning the passes, to the shelter of the walled town
in the valley on the farther side of this first range of the Alps.
A little before midnight, when the camp fires had burned low, Hannibal
himself started from the camp and commenced the dangerous ascent of
the mountain. No lights had he and his men to guide their footsteps,
but painfully and in silence, they stumbled on, ever upwards, over
rock and boulder, until they found and occupied the breastworks which
the Gauls had evacuated at nightfall. With Hannibal were Monomachus
and Chœras in command of a party of dismounted cavalry. There were,
in addition, about one thousand men, who toiled wearily upwards after
their bold Commander. It being now near the end of the month of
October, cold indeed were the hours of waiting through the night,
which this gallant band were compelled to endure in the chilly pass.
No moving about was possible after once they had gained their
positions, and many a man who had become overheated in the ascent that
night contracted a chill that ere long laid him low. It was, indeed, a
toilsome and terrible night march which these soldiers of a warmer
climate had to endure, and many a man stumbled in the dark and fell
over the precipices into the roaring torrent below, his armour
resounding with many a clang as it beat against the rocks in the
wretched man’s downward course.
But for those who fell there was no succour. If they were dead, they
were dead, and their troubles were over; if they still survived, they
were left to die miserably in the dark and gloomy ravines wherein they
had fallen. For who could help them? This was merely the commencement
of the crossing of the Alps, and they merely the advance party! How
many thousand more would fall ere the fair plains of Italy should be
won?
At daybreak, the army, under Hanno, commenced in turn the ascent of
the pass. The Gauls instantly set forth to intercept them, and
crowning the heights, hurled down huge stones and pieces of rock from
every side, creating the most terrible distress and confusion among
the defenceless infantry men in the pass, and speedily likewise
driving the pack horses, mules, and cavalry animals into a state of
perfect frenzy. These creatures, many of them being wounded, rushed
madly up and down the narrow road, driving hundreds of men over the
precipices in their headlong flight, and many of them falling
themselves also.
Meanwhile the Allobroges, climbing down the mountain side like goats,
pillaged the fallen warriors, after first brutally cutting their
throats, pillaged also the fallen pack animals, and in many cases
escaped safely again up the further mountain’s side with their booty.
Hannibal, however, seeing the terrible confusion into which the whole
of his army was thrown by this dreadful onslaught, resolved upon
instant action.
“Chœras,” quoth he, “take thou three hundred men. Crown these heights
on the left of the pass, creep over them, but keep thy force together.
Then charge and destroy all the pillagers who have crossed the ravine.
I myself, with Monomachus, will charge with our remaining men on the
other side of the ravine where the enemy are thickest.”
Like an avalanche rushing down the Alps, did Hannibal, sword in hand,
charge at the head of his men down slopes upon which they could
scarcely keep their feet, so steep they were, but the steepness added
to the impetus of their terrible onrush. The Allobroges turned and
fled towards the city of the hills. They were, however, cut down and
slaughtered almost to a man; and Hannibal and his men, still cutting
down and slaughtering as they advanced, rushed in after the fugitives
through the gates of the city. The inhabitants were instantly put to
the sword as a warning to other tribes living on the slopes of the
mountains, and an enormous booty of cattle, corn, and pack horses was
captured.
The city was in a fertile valley, and the army encamped in and round
about it for one day to rest.
Thus did Hannibal, by his own personal prowess, although with serious
loss to his army, successfully storm the first of the terrible Alpine
ranges.