OVER THE ALPS.
For the next three days the advance up the passes was continued in
peace. The Gauls came in, offering garlands and branches of trees in
token of goodwill, and gave also hostages and cattle. Hannibal wisely
pretended to trust them, thus securing a period of cessation from
hostilities; but, in reality, he remained ever on the alert, and made
all his dispositions accordingly, keeping his cavalry and pack animals
in front to prevent their being cut off, and following in rear himself
with all the heavy-armed infantry.
He was not in the least surprised when on the fourth day a determined
attack was made upon him by large forces of the enemy, as the army was
passing through a long, narrow, and precipitous gorge, where the Gauls
once more created terrible confusion among his troops, by rolling down
stones and boulders from above, and, by their superior position on the
slopes above him, actually for a time cutting him off with the
infantry from all the cavalry and baggage animals ahead, among whom
terrible losses occurred. The maddened animals dashed hither and
thither, and fell over the precipices, many an unfortunate warrior
going with them in their headlong flight. But Mago and Maharbal, with
indomitable courage, pushed ever onward and upwards despite all
obstacles, while for a whole night long Hannibal and the infantry had
to take shelter beneath a rock, which was so precipitous that the
Gallic tribes themselves were unable to climb it or use it as a point
of vantage from which to throw down missiles.
Meanwhile Hasdrubal, the pioneer, following in the extreme rear with
the elephants, destroyed the road as he went, thus making it
impossible for any of the army to fly by the road whence they had
come. This rear guard was fortunately not attacked, for the Gauls were
so terrified by the awful appearance of the elephants, whom they
imagined to be evil spirits or malignant gods, that they dared not
even to approach the part of the line where they were. When daybreak
came, the army emerged from the pass, and the enemy, too terrified to
attack in force on more open ground, retired.
At length, after nine more terrible nights and days, during the whole
of which the army was being continually harassed by parties of the foe
cutting off stragglers or attacking the baggage, the gallant Chief
arrived with his army at the head of the pass. Here, despite the
bitter cold, he encamped on the snow for a couple of days, to rest his
men and wait for stragglers to come up.
The men were now in a deplorable condition, and their spirits at the
lowest possible ebb. Therefore, assembling as many of them as possible
around him, and pointing to the panorama of the fair plains of Italy
below, Hannibal addressed them as follows:
“My gallant troops, difficulty, danger, and death now lie behind us,
but before us lie Italy and Rome. Gaze, therefore, before and below ye
as conquerors, for all that fair country shall be ours. The tribes
below are our friends, and will welcome us heartily. Therefore keep ye
up your courage, for soon the spoils of Rome shall reward ye for all
your hardships.”
The courage of the troops was roused by these words; but alas! if the
ascent had been difficult, harder by far was the descent of the
mountain slopes. For owing to new snow having fallen upon the old,
there was no foothold. Thus men and horses in numbers slipped and fell
headlong down the slopes and precipices, rolling over and over, and
bounding from rock to rock, to finally land, battered into pulp,
thousands of feet below. And then they came to a place where, for a
great distance, two land slides and avalanches had carried away the
whole mountain-side, and the road with it. Never daunted, however,
Hannibal, Monomachus, and Hasdrubal, his pioneer captain, built in two
days, with the Numidian troops, an entirely new road over the
mountain-side, over which first the infantry, then the cavalry and
baggage animals, and lastly, even the elephants themselves were passed
in safety. But all the survivors, both men and animals alike, were
nearly dead from starvation, when at length, after fifteen days in the
terrible mountains, the snow was left behind, and the land of the
Taurini, bordering that of the friendly Insubrian Gauls, was entered
on the plains.
But, whereas Hannibal had started to cross the Alps with nearly double
that number, when the muster was taken round the camp fires on the
first night after the awful journey over the mountains, only twelve
thousand Libyans, eight thousand Iberians, and six thousand cavalry of
all kinds, were present to answer the roll-call.
And with this small force of starving and disheartened troops Hannibal
now prepared to meet all the might of Rome.
So wretched, indeed, were the troops, that not even the fact of their
having at length reached the Italian side of the mountains in
Cis-Alpine Gaul could at first put any heart into them. It was now the
commencement of the month of November, the oak trees were shedding
their leaves, and the grass and herbage losing rapidly the succulent
qualities necessary to sustain the animals. All traces of cultivation
had long since been removed from the fields, while the wind sighed and
moaned sadly through those vast forests of pine, the home of the wolf
and the wild boar, the shelter of whose gloomy recesses the
half-starved army was glad enough to seek.
Biting showers of rain and sleet added to the discomfort of the
troops, and at first the Insubrian Gauls showed but little alacrity in
bringing in the much-needed provisions. Altogether, now that this
remnant of the Carthaginian army had at length reached, after five and
a half months’ marching, this land of promise, it fell far below their
expectations. The whole outlook was indeed so gloomy that there was
not an officer nor man in the whole army who did not heartily wish
himself back again in his own home in the sunny lands and olive groves
of Spain or Libya.
To make things even yet worse, one or two Gallic towns in the
neighbourhood, among them notably the city of the Taurini, which might
have accorded shelter to the half-famished troops, being fearful of
Roman retribution, flatly refused to open their gates to the wayworn
wanderers. This was scarcely to be wondered at, seeing that the Consul
Flaminius had but a short time before defeated the Boii, the Insubres,
and other Gallic tribes repeatedly, and treated the survivors with the
greatest severity, taking many hostages, who were now entirely at the
mercy of the Romans; and founding two Roman colonies, named
respectively Placentia and Cremona, one on either bank of the river
Padus or Po, right in the midst of Cis-Alpine Gaul.
As Hannibal, accompanied by Silenus and by all his principal officers,
marched round and made a thorough inspection of the camp a day or two
after arriving in the Italian plains, it must be owned that even he
himself felt utterly discouraged. For wherever he looked, whether at
man or beast, he saw nothing but misery and starvation. The
thirty-seven elephants with which he had started were already
considerably diminished in number, many having fallen down the Alpine
precipices, and the remainder were now but gaunt mountains of skin and
bone. The horses tethered in rows showed distinctly every rib in their
carcases, and hung down their heads with fatigue while patient misery
was expressed in their lack-lustre eyes. Among the men, not the
slightest element of discipline had been relaxed; but, as they stood
in their ranks before their tents for the inspection of their
Commander-in-chief, looking like phantoms of their former selves,
utter dejection could clearly be read in every countenance. Except for
the want of a little food they were in hard enough condition, but
there was not sufficient food to be obtained by fair means, and the
men did not look either strong enough or in good enough spirits to
obtain it by force of arms. That, however, was what Hannibal intended
that they should do, and he took, therefore, very good care neither to
show by his face the disappointment which he felt at their miserable
plight, nor the fact that he had received alarming news, which, had it
been known publicly, would have made the men more disheartened still.
Instead of doing anything likely to keep the troops in a despondent
state, he spoke, as he went along the ranks, words of commendation and
encouragement to all. He praised their valour, told them that their
names would live in history, informed them that he had received
ambassadors with promises of assistance from the Boii, and generally
tried to cheer their waning hopes. After this, he held before the army
some gladiatorial contests among the young Gallic captives, whose
condition was so miserable from the ill-treatment and blows they had
received in crossing the Alps, that the army would have pitied the
survivors even more than the slain had not their Commander rewarded
the conquerors liberally with horses, cloaks, and suits of armour.
After these contests he addressed the army. He pointed out to them
that their own condition was similar to that of the captive Gauls whom
they had just seen fighting, and that, if they maintained a stout
heart, either victory and great rewards would be theirs, or a death
nobly won on the field of battle; but that if flight were attempted it
must be useless. For how, Hannibal urged, would any attempt at flight
be successful back over those terrible mountains and all through the
country of Gallia to Spain? Therefore, since any attempt at flight
would be useless, a stout heart, a stout arm, and a determination to
conquer were all that were needful, and victory and numerous spoils
would most assuredly be theirs.
Having cheered all the men with these words, and being ably seconded
by the superior officers, who were themselves once more fired with his
enthusiasm, the Commander, on the following few days, attacked with
fury Turin and the other Gallic towns that had withstood him, and
speedily carried them by assault. And after this provisions were
plentiful, everything was more cheerful in camp, and thousands of
Gauls, both Insubrians and Boii, commenced to come in daily, and
attach themselves to the Carthaginian standard.
Before, therefore, Hannibal thought it necessary to inform his
officers and the army of the news that he had received, he found
himself in an entirely different position in which to meet the Romans
from that in which he had been a week previously.
And he was indeed about to meet the Romans, and that very shortly, for
his news was that Scipio had rapidly returned by sea from Marseilles
to Italy, and was already nigh at hand.
“Hast thou heard the news, Maharbal?” quoth Chœras, early one
morning, bursting into the tent that they occupied in common, and
flinging down his sword and shield, “hast thou heard the news? It
seemeth that Publius Scipio hath returned from Massilia, and landed
with a small force at some place in Etruria. Moreover, he hath, while
travelling northward, crossed the mountain range called the Apennines,
traversed the country of the Boii, and is at this moment at the new
Roman city or colony called Placentia, on the other side of the Padus.
Scipio is not, in fact, very many stadia from the place where we now
are ourselves, since this river Ticinus whereon we are encamped
floweth into the Padus, as thou knowest, not very far above
Placentia.”
Maharbal was resting where he had been sleeping on a couch of wolf
skins on the floor of the tent. As he rose to a sitting posture, he
looked a very different man to what he had been at the time of the
cavalry fight on the banks of the Rhone--so gaunt was he and drawn,
that the muscles of his neck and biceps stood out now like wires of
steel, for there was no flesh to conceal them. He had been dreaming a
dream of love, with Elissa as its heroine, and was angry at being
disturbed. He laughed aloud scornfully.
“Wilt thou never have done with thy foolish jesting, Chœras? But this
is indeed a sorry jest of thine. Publius Cornelius Scipio already at
Placentia! Why, ’tis not yet a month since I bore off his young cub of
a son almost into our lines at the camp upon the Rhodanus. Nay, nay,
my merry-hearted lieutenant, I may know more of horses than geography,
more of dealing death than determining distances, but this is just a
little too much. If this were all the cause thou hadst to disturb me,
I would that thou had left me to sleep, for I am in sooth sorely
fatigued after pursuing and cutting down the last force of those dogs
of Taurini the whole of yesterday.”
The young Colossus sank back upon his couch, and would have slept
again if his comrade had but allowed him.
“A sorry jest! I would it were but a sorry jest,” returned Chœras;
“but, by the head of Hannibal, it is unfortunately no jest, but true.
I had it from Hannibal himself. It seems that the Chief, and Silenus
also, hath known the matter for these several days past, but it was
purposely kept secret until after we had conquered the Taurini, which
conquest hath now raised the hearts of our men, and induced also many
of the Gauls to rally around us. It appeareth that Scipio at first
followed us, but finding we had crossed the Rhone, after returning to
Massilia himself, he sent his brother, Cnœus Scipio, with most of the
Roman army on into Spain to fight with Hasdrubal; then he came to Pisa
by ship, with very few men, but at Placentia there are, unfortunately
for us, a Roman legion or two which were assembled to hold the Gauls
in check during the late Gallic rising; there are also a large number
of Gallic cavalry in the Roman pay. In addition to all this about
Scipio, the General hath imparted to us other weighty news. It appears
that the other Roman consul, Tiberius Sempronius, hath been recalled
from Sicily, where he was about to make a descent upon Carthage
itself, after having defeated a Punic fleet off Lilybæum, and alas!
captured Malta. He is now, so Hannibal informs us, at a place on the
Adriatic coast called Ariminum, and is encamped there with a very
large force. Hannibal is anxious, if possible, to prevent a junction
of the two forces.”
“Then this is no place for me!” cried Maharbal, springing to his feet,
and hastily buckling on his armour; “there can be no rest for the
weary with such tidings as these.” And he picked up his sword and
buckler and strode off to the General’s tent, after first directing
Chœras to go round to the cavalry lines, and to see that all the
horses were instantly properly groomed and fed, and that all the men
remained in camp. For he expected more work shortly, though he did not
know how soon it might be.
Hannibal was sitting at the door of his tent studying a map which the
worthy Sosilus was explaining. He rose as Maharbal approached, and
welcomed him warmly. He knew that Maharbal with a portion of his force
had only returned very late in the night from the prolonged and bloody
pursuit of the Taurini. Chœras, who had been left in camp, had borne
him a verbal report sent by Maharbal to that effect and delivered upon
Hannibal’s awakening. But he had not seen his well-beloved Numidian
leader since his return, and therefore questioned him anxiously.
“And so, Maharbal, my lad, thou hast, it seems, entirely disposed of
the last of the Taurini. Hast made many prisoners?”
“Nay, my lord, I made no prisoners. I deemed it wiser, since they were
our enemies and evidently the friends of Rome, to kill all whom we
should overtake! ’Twill also make the other and friendly Gauls all the
more friendly, than had we spared those of a disaffected tribe. But
some of them fought hard and ’twould, methinks, have been no easy job
to make prisoners of them.”
“Fought, did they? the dogs! And hadst thou any losses, Maharbal?”
“Ay, alas! I had, and far too many for a mere pursuit; they amount,
unfortunately, to no less than thirty killed and wounded men, my lord
Hannibal, of whom fifteen are dead. Among them was a most gallant
young fellow, the ensign Proxenus. He was a Greek by birth, but came
over from Libya with the last reinforcement. He will be indeed a
serious loss, for he had both brains and bravery in equal
proportions.”
“Proxenus! is Proxenus, that likely youth, dead? Alas, I grieve to
hear it, and especially that ’twere his lot to fall against such an
unworthy foe as the Taurini. ’Tis sad, indeed. But so it wert not thou
thyself, Maharbal, my grief is fleeting, for daily do we lose useful
men, and young men, too; but they can be replaced. Had it been thou
now, ah, that would indeed have been another matter. Therefore see to
it, Maharbal,” the Chief continued, with a smile, “that thou let not
thyself be killed for many a long day to come. For Carthage could ill
dispense with thy services either at present or in the future.”
Maharbal flushed and bowed at the compliment, and then Hannibal called
to a slave to bring a stool, and bade him be seated. After this two
Gallic chieftains, who had brought in intelligence, were called, and
together Hannibal and Maharbal, aided by the learned Sosilus, worked
out on the map from their information the respective positions of the
various forces now in the field. When this had been accomplished,
Hannibal rose, folded up the map, and dismissed Sosilus. Then turning
to Maharbal he inquired the state of his men and horses, and if they
would be in a fit condition to march again that same afternoon or
evening if required absolutely to do so.
“March, ay, they could march, my lord, a short march, and could even
fight a little at a pinch; but to fight, and fight well, against fresh
troops, especially after themselves making first a long march, they
would be quite unfit. It would be but throwing away uselessly the
lives of both men and horses.”
“And we can spare neither. Well, we must let it be until to-morrow,
when both men and horses have been rested. There are some other
advantages about the delay. We shall not have so far to march as will
the enemy before we meet them, and therefore our horses will be the
fresher. The Gauls said that Scipio is building and hath almost
completed a bridge across the Ticinus, by which to cross and attack
us. If we with our horse can only catch his cavalry apart from his
infantry and drive the attack home well in front and flanks, we will
force him right back to the crossing place, and perhaps inflict
considerable slaughter ere he can again pass the bridge. Meanwhile,
listen to my plan for the strong cavalry reconnaissance which I intend
to make to-morrow, in hopes of meeting Scipio while similarly
employed. I shall personally, attended by General Monomachus, whom for
the future I shall definitely appoint to the cavalry, lead the Iberian
horse, which will be in the centre. Thou wilt divide thy Numidian
horse into two parties, one to remain on each flank. After that thou
thyself knowest what to do, as usual being guided by circumstances,
which I must leave to thine own judgment to be met as required. And
now, Maharbal, ’twere wise that thou shouldst retire and take the rest
that thou must greatly require.”
“Nay, Hannibal, I require no rest. I am quite sufficiently restored
from all fatigue by the hopes of so soon meeting the Romans once more,
for my heart burns with shame within my breast when I think of how I
was compelled to fly before them when last we met.”
“Tush, man! thou didst not fly; thy troops yielded to superior
numbers, that was all, and I sent thee out not to fight that day, but
to see what the enemy were about. Moreover, thou thyself didst nearly
end the war, and at the very first encounter, by carrying off young
Scipio. But ’twas not to be--and now, for a space, I would speak of
other matters. Come within the tent; ’tis chilly without. We will take
a cup of wine.”
Maharbal entered with his Chief, who carefully closed the entrance of
his tent, after having first summoned a slave to bring him a flagon
and some wine-cups, which were filled.