ELISSA AS A WARRIOR.
After the departure of the army with her father and her lover from
Spain, a great blank had fallen upon the life of the young girl
Elissa. For the dull days had succeeded to the dull days, and still no
news came to relieve the anxious heart of the ardent girl.
Her uncle Hasdrubal was away with the army that Hannibal had left in
Northern Iberia. Melania, at whose memory her pretty teeth met
tightly, was dead. Cleandra had left her. There was absolutely no one
to whom she could mention in confidential talk even the name of
Maharbal, save the foolish Princess Cœcilia. To mention him to her
was, so Elissa soon found, to expose herself to many a jarring note,
for so thoughtless was the buxom lady, so absolutely tactless, that
she contrived to say ever the wrong thing when referring to the absent
lover. It was not done intentionally, or from ill-nature, but that
only made matters all the worse when she blurted out some such remark
as this:
“Oh! doubtless he hath half-a-dozen other sweethearts by this time,
those soldiers are all alike, my niece, never faithful when once their
backs are turned, and very often not even when at home. Oh! thou
needst not look at me like that, Elissa, ’tis absolutely true, I
assure thee, and about all of them. Think on my late husband
Hasdrubal, how disgracefully he behaved. But that is what they are; I
tell thee the truth; ay, verily all soldiers are like that. ’Tis no
use thy pining for Maharbal, nor waiting for him either. Therefore, if
he come not back very shortly, thou shouldst take another lover. As
for Hannibal, thy father, him thou canst never hope to see again,
after his starting off on such a madcap errand as this invasion of
Italia by land.”
This kind of speech was not very consoling. But it was what Elissa had
to expect, and to put up with if she ever mentioned her lover’s name.
Therefore she at length learned to hold her peace where he was
concerned.
“Let us talk about some other matter,” she said testily, one day after
some such conversation. “As for me, Princess Cœcilia, thanks be to
the gods! I do not share thy opinion of men, nor deem that all can be
so bad. Maybe ’tis fortunate for me that I have not had thine
experience. Therefore, I will continue to put my faith in Maharbal.
But I have now other and weightier matters to discuss with thee. I
have this very day received a lengthy despatch from mine uncle
Hasdrubal, and ’tis most serious. It seemeth that the war hath not by
any means gone well with him for some time past.
“Firstly, by means of the base treason of one Abilyx, an Iberian whom
he trusted, General Bostar, who commandeth at Saguntum, hath, being
deceived by Abilyx, most foolishly delivered over unto the two Roman
generals all the hostages of the Northern Iberian tribes. The Romans
in turn have given up these hostages to the Iberians, and thereby
secured important alliances. Secondly, General Hanno, the son of
Gisco, hath been severely defeated, and both he and the king Andobales
have fallen into the hands of the Romans. Thirdly, Hasdrubal’s own
fleet hath been defeated close by the land, and in sight of mine
uncle’s army drawn up on the beach. The cowardly sailors fled to the
shore, and, beaching their vessels, which they abandoned, sought the
protection of Hasdrubal’s force. The only bright spot in the cloudy
sky is that Hasdrubal, with a flying column of eight thousand infantry
and one thousand horse, hath himself surprised a great number of the
sailors of the Roman fleet on shore, scattered about the country, and
killed them. With reference to this last affair, Hasdrubal writeth
that Cnœus Scipio hath since then joined his fleet, and punished the
authors of the disaster according to the Roman custom! I wonder what
that may be? ’tis no doubt something terrible.”
“Ay, doubtless something horrid, probably crucifying them head
downward, or else impaling them, or maybe breaking them on the wheel,”
replied the princess. “I trust,” she added consolingly, “that neither
Hannibal nor Maharbal have yet been similarly served. But ’tis more
than likely.”
“With all this,” continued Elissa, ignoring the pleasant suggestion
conveyed in the latter part of Cœcilia’s remark, “thou wilt easily
see that it behoveth us ourselves to be more careful than ever in our
defences here of New Carthage. For strong though we be, what is there
to guarantee us, like Bostar, against treachery from within, when,
should the Romans make a sudden descent in our neighbourhood, we may
all fall into their hands? May the sacred gods protect us from such a
fate! But as one never knows who may prove a traitor, nor what may
chance in war, I intend myself henceforward in my capacity of Regent
and Governor to devote far more time personally than heretofore to the
troops of the garrison, such as to seeing to their efficiency and
readiness. For it shall never be said of a daughter of Hannibal that,
from sheer idleness, she neglected her trust to her country. As for
treachery, should I ever suspect any human soul within these walls,
whether man or woman, Iberian or Carthaginian, of either deliberately
or by foolishness committing such an action as should endanger the
safety of the city, I should speedily make use of mine authority to
punish such an one according to the Carthaginian custom in such cases,
which, as witness the sacrifices to Moloch, can upon occasion be made
quite as terrible as any Roman custom. Therefore let such a one be
careful.”
During the latter part of her speech, Elissa looked very pointedly at
the little princess, in whom, owing to her light character, she had no
great faith, and who trembled before her in consequence of the pointed
remark.
“By all the gods!” replied the usually merry lady, with blanching
cheek, “wherefore dost thee look at me like that, Elissa? Surely thou
wouldst never suspect me of turning traitor? Only think of it, what on
earth should I do myself,” she continued, “were I to be captured and
fall into the hands of the Roman officers? I am sure I should die of
fright,” and she gave a little giggle.
Elissa had now shot her bolt intended to convey a warning, and that it
had struck home she knew. She now therefore said, banteringly:
“Thou die of fright! by no means, my dear aunt; methinks that on the
contrary thou wouldst be quite happy under such circumstances. I have
frequently heard that some of those Romans are very handsome men, and
how could they fail to be at once struck by thine attractions and
charms?”
“Ah, yes, that is true, certainly,” replied the vain little lady,
beaming at the compliment. “But for all that I fancy I am better off
here. I believe that the Romans object to their ladies wearing veils
even out in the sun. Think, my niece, how terribly trying to the
complexion. Never could I survive such a trial as that; ’twould be
worse even than being crucified according to Roman custom upside down,
a very unbecoming posture that.” And she gave a little shudder.
“And one,” replied Elissa, smiling in spite of herself, “that I trust
neither thou nor I, mine aunt, may ever be seen in, and it behoveth us
therefore to be more than extra careful. Thus, by letting all in the
city know that we are constantly on the alert, we shall have less to
fear from treason. Moreover, the enemy themselves, even if they have
spies among us, learning that we are ever prepared, will be less
likely to dare to attack us, seeing how strong is our position.”
One of Elissa’s amusements latterly had been in learning warlike
exercises, such as the use of spear and broadsword, and throwing the
javeline, and from this time forth she, who had hitherto not had much
to occupy herself, became in very sooth the ruling military spirit in
New Carthage. For she was now not only the Civil Governor but the
active general as well, and not a guard was mounted, nor a man moved
without her orders. Clad in a helmet and a light cuirass, both of
steel inlaid with gold scroll work, and with a jewel-hilted sword by
her side, she now frequently mounted a war-horse, for she was a
splendid rider, and reviewed the troops in person. Not content with
merely looking carefully and watchfully after the troops of the
garrison, she also constantly made fresh levies among the Iberians,
whom she caused to be trained and then forwarded to her uncle
Hasdrubal at the seat of war. In constantly employing herself in this
way the days hung less wearily on her hands. Thus first the months and
then the years rolled by, and from the cares of government and the
active part that she took in the management of the troops, the pain of
the separation became gradually less, and the self-reliant young woman
began in time to cease to think about her lover so exclusively.
When Elissa took to live with her a charming young maiden to whom she
was much attached, Sophonisba, the daughter of a certain General
Hasdrubal, the son of the Gisco slaughtered so basely by the
mercenaries in the truceless war, the void in the young girl’s life
became partly filled. Sophonisba was a remarkably handsome girl of
some fifteen summers. Educated in Carthage, she was quick-witted and
sharp beyond her years, and made a most excellent companion. With her
society, life was not for Elissa quite so dreary as heretofore.
At last, after two and a half years had elapsed, a large fleet of
Carthaginian ships, full of reinforcements for Hasdrubal, were one day
sighted off the harbour mouth. When they had entered the roadstead and
anchored, Elissa’s young and favourite uncle Mago came ashore, bearing
to her the letters of her father and her lover, the latter containing
the wild roses now long since plucked on the Adriatic shore.
At sight of the dear one’s handwriting and the withered roses, the
whole of love’s young dream came back with a gush of feeling. Nor did
Mago forget to praise his friend in every way, and speak of his
bravery and constancy to his niece, whose heart thrilled with pride to
hear her lover thus praised. When, however, Mago informed Elissa that,
had he so willed it, Maharbal might have returned to New Carthage in
his stead, the impression which he made upon the young girl’s mind was
quite contrary to what the warrior had hoped. For he, looking from a
soldier’s point of view, had imagined that she would be pleased at
finding that her lover was of such a noble character, able to prefer
duty to self; whereas, on the contrary, she was only angered, for with
a woman’s feelings, she could not understand how anybody, or anything
in the world, be it honour, duty, or anything else, could have been
preferred by her lover to herself upon such an opportunity. Mago,
perceiving this evil impression, was sorry that he had mentioned the
circumstance at all.
“Surely!” Elissa exclaimed passionately, “he hath had enough of
fighting; surely he hath already done enough for Hannibal, for honour,
and for his country to have been able to spare a little time for me
who have, all lonely, been eating out my heart for him so long. And he
is mine! Before the gods I have a right to him; yet am I neglected
thus! Surely I was worth more than this! But since he would not come
to me himself, I will have none of his letters, nay, nor of his
miserable roses either!”
Stamping on the floor, with anger in her eyes, she tore twice in twain
the scroll that Mago had brought her from Maharbal, and dashed it to
the ground. Then casting the withered roses to the floor beside the
fluttering pieces of papyrus, Elissa spurned them with her foot. How
glorious the outraged girl looked in her righteous anger! But then, a
revulsion of feeling setting in, she suddenly cast herself upon her
sympathetic uncle’s breast in a flood of tears, while he vainly sought
to console her. After this, she broke from him again, picked up the
scattered fragments, tenderly picked up also the crushed and
shrivelled rose leaves, and clutching them to her beating bosom, fled
from the apartment. Poor Elissa! accustomed as she was to have her own
way in everything, her pride had indeed been sadly hurt; but love was
after all still the lord of all.
It must be owned that hers was a terrible and trying position. Maid
but no maid, wife but no wife, ruling over New Carthage and all the
surrounding territory in Southern Spain with princely powers, with all
the might of Carthage to support her in her authority, yet she was
powerless to have her will. Working, too, as she ever was, for the
good of her country, she was yet condemned by an adverse fate to gain
no good herself, the one thing that she desired in this world to make
life worth living being denied to her.
First it had been her father who had, for his own reasons, torn her
lover from her arms just as she had learned to know what love was; and
now it was that noble young soldier, the flower of the army, Maharbal
himself, who had preferred, or so it seemed, the undying fame of
military glory, which he was earning in Italy, to her loving arms. It
has been said by one, herself a loving woman, in an analysis of the
sexes, that absence makes man but not woman indifferent, the beloved
object gradually fading from the former’s mind. “For,” she writes,
“men are not made like women, and in time they do forget, although
they do not think at the first that they will, ever. But I have
closely studied them, and have discovered that, in their relations to
each other, women can live on a past, but men always need an immediate
future to look forward to, or else everything is lost in a mist of
oblivion. To women ‘have beens’ are enough for ever, whilst men
require to have their five senses constantly occupied on the people
they love, or else soon grow cooler, and in time cold. With a man, his
love is deep and deeply intense for a little while; with a woman, it
is not so deep or intense at the time, but spreads over her whole
life.”
With reference to the above analysis, which certainly is true in parts
as regards the world in general, and yet which seems far too sweeping
when applied to individual cases, Elissa was one of those whom absence
did not render indifferent; she was also one of those women whose love
had spread over her life. But it could by no means be said of her that
she found that the “have beens” were enough for ever, nor that her
love had not been so deep and intense as Maharbal’s at the time. On
the contrary, it was not only equally deep and intense, but far more
violent and incapable of being kept under control. Elissa had not
therefore been satisfied with merely living on the past, but had been
ardently looking forward to a future when her five senses might be
again gratified by the presence of her lover. Her disappointment and
depression were all the greater, and her state of “accablement” became
more utter, as the loving words and expressions conveyed to her in her
lover’s letter only made her desire his personal presence the more
intensely.
As with the pieced-together letter in her hand, and the faded roses by
her side, she lay silently weeping upon her luxurious couch, she felt
as if she had been struck with blows, so limp, so crushed was she. But
after a while, proud woman that she was, she called all her pride, all
her courage, to her aid, and rising from her couch rejoined her uncle.
Her beautiful face was very pale, and there were deep violet rings
under her eyes, when, laying her bejewelled fingers upon Mago’s arm,
she addressed him as follows:
“Mine uncle Mago, it is not good for a girl to be so much alone as I
have been for years past. Neither father nor mother have I ever had
with me, nor even thou, mine uncle Mago, nor yet have I mine uncle
Hasdrubal. Until I took my friend Sophonisba to live with me, what
society have I had, save that of the empty-headed Princess Cœcilia, a
woman utterly devoid of intellect, whose only ideas are vapid
flirtations with anything or anybody--which foolish promiscuity maketh
her somewhat a danger in the city, by the way--and how best to take
care of her complexion:
“No wonder, then, oh mine uncle! that--neglected thus, and thrown so
utterly upon mine own resources--I have dwelt far too much in my mind
upon my lover Maharbal; for lover only he is to me henceforth; I will
continue no longer the farce of calling him my husband. Had he been my
husband, or desired to be my husband, he would have come to me now.
Therefore is he but my lover and nought else, and, my lover having
failed me, I will stay here to brood in New Carthage no longer, but
will accompany thee for a while to the war against the Romans, with
this thine army that thou hast brought. I shall presently take thee
all over the defences of the town, and thou wilt see that I have not
hitherto betrayed my trust, for all is in order. And thou, mine uncle,
shalt this day present unto me one of the superior officers of thy
force, a capable man, to accompany us round the walls, and be also
present at a review of my troops, which I intend to hold in thine
honour. To such a one will I delegate mine authority here during mine
absence, and thou shalt ratify such appointment. Were it possible for
me to know whither in Italy to seek my father Hannibal, it is to him I
would now proceed, and it would perhaps be more fitting that I should
do so, but for one reason. That reason thou canst easily fathom; it
exists in the presence of Maharbal with my father’s army. For ’twould
seem to all that I were pursuing him, or that since he would not come
to me I had gone to him, and that shall never be said of Elissa,
daughter of Hannibal. Now, mine uncle, I have said: I accompany thee
if thou wilt but have me?” and she threw an arm around his neck
caressingly.
“Ay, my dear niece, right gladly will I have thee with me, and do even
as thou hast said. For ’tis true that thou hast been neglected
hitherto, and life is short, especially in times of war, and blood is
thicker than water. I would right fain have thee with me, save for the
danger that thou mayst run of thy life. Say, if I take thee, wilt thou
promise me to be very careful of thine own safety, my pretty one, my
gallant soldier’s daughter?” And gently the uncle stroked the dark
tresses of the young woman, whose pale but determined face so near his
own shone with nobility, courage, and determination.
She embraced Mago, and smiled softly but somewhat ironically.
“Thou good uncle! I knew well that thou couldst not say nay. But take
care of myself!--nay, I will make no such promise. For am I not
Hannibal’s daughter? Ay, and his representative--yea, even a general
like unto thyself, although I never yet have led my troops in the
field. Moreover, thou hast never seen me in my war harness; but thou
shalt, and that right soon too.”
And now, laughing outright, she clapped her hands loudly, when two
female slaves came running in.
“Order my charger, and prepare me mine armour instantly, and be in
readiness to attire me.”
The slave girls retired instantly to do her bidding.
“Now, mine uncle,” quoth Elissa, blowing him back a kiss as she stood
in the doorway before following them, “say farewell for a space to
Elissa the woman, for in a moment thou shalt see only Elissa the
soldier, one who will, when required, bring with her to the battle,
under old Gisco, a body of well-disciplined troops, whom she hath
trained herself and can thoroughly rely upon. Some of thy large force
can remain here to replace them in the garrison of New Carthage.”
When, a few minutes later, Elissa reappeared, fully attired in her
light but glorious armour, carrying on her left arm a shining and
beautiful shield, inlaid with the horse of Carthage in gold, and
having two or three light throwing javelines in her right hand, Mago
could not resist a cry of admiration.
“By the great gods Melcareth and Moloch, thou art beautiful! I would
to the gods, indeed, that Hannibal could but see thee thus, Elissa;
verily, he would be proud of his daughter.”
“Who is, as thou shalt learn, mine uncle, by no means a maiden
travestied in warlike panoply merely for stage effect. Wilt thou
accompany me to the verandah? Now, what object shall I strike with
this javeline?”
Mago pointed out a distant and slender tree trunk.
Poising the javeline for a second, Elissa sent the weapon whizzing
through the air, and lo! it was quivering, buried to its head in the
bark of the sapling.
“Another object?” she asked.
“The silver figure of the god of love on the fountain; but methinks
’tis over far.”
“Not too far for me,” quoth Elissa; “this is a game that I play well,
mine uncle, for I have practised greatly.”
Again a javeline flew through the air with the most marvellous
precision, striking the neck of the little silver god with such force
that it was transfixed from side to side by the gleaming steel.
“By the great goddess of love herself!” cried Mago, in admiration,
“never saw I such dexterity. ’Tis evident that her son’s arrows are
but a toy compared to Elissa’s javelines.”
Elissa smiled.
“Now, wouldst see me on my war-horse, mine uncle Mago? ’Twas Maharbal
himself who taught me to ride when but a child, and I am on horseback,
as thou shalt see, a very Numidian. I have neither saddle nor
stirrups; but, merely for show’s sake, a bridle have I, with silver
chains for reins; likewise, I have a golden saddle-cloth, to the
surcingle of which the reins are, as thou seest, attached to prevent
them falling.”
An orderly was leading a splendid bay charger, thus caparisoned, up
and down before the verandah of the palace. Taking a short run, Elissa
sprang lightly into her seat across the horse.
“Some darts,” she cried; “give me some darts.”
Some half-dozen short, but heavy-headed darts were given to her, which
she grasped with her left hand below the shield.
Then pricking the horse with the point of one of the darts that she
took in her right hand, she started off at full gallop. Away she sped
across the lawn, and in and out among the trees, at such a pace that
Mago feared to see her brains dashed out against the tree trunks. But
nay, emerging safely from the trees she swept across an open space
beyond the fish pond, all the time performing warlike evolutions with
her shield; raising it, and protecting her head, or throwing herself
flat upon the horse’s back, and covering head and shoulders with it
completely.
A third evolution she performed, and that, likewise, while still at
full gallop. Suddenly, Mago could see nothing but the glittering
shield held alongside the horse’s neck, thus protecting it. All that
was visible of Elissa herself was one small foot barely showing above
the horse’s croup, her whole body being concealed behind the horse.
Then, as the horse came round again in a circle, thundering along the
path which led before the palace verandah, Elissa, springing up to her
seat again, discharged, with the rapidity of lightning, all her darts
in rapid succession. With each she struck the object aimed at. With
the last of the whizzing weapons she transfixed and slew a glittering
peacock which, frightened by the galloping horse, flew, from its perch
upon a marble portico, screaming overhead. Then whirling short round
again, she dashed back at the same speed, stopped suddenly by using
the reins for the first time, and pulling her horse upon his haunches,
sprung to the ground in a second as lightly as she had mounted. She
ran swiftly up the steps to her uncle, somewhat out of breath, and
with a heightened colour.
“What dost thou think of my horsemanship? The princess saith that ’tis
indelicate! But what dost thou think of thy warrior niece thyself? Is
she fit to accompany thee to the war against the Romans?”
“Fit to accompany me to the war! Thou art fit to command the army.
Why, by Moloch himself! never, save in my beloved brother-in-arms
Maharbal, who did himself instruct thee, saw I such horsemanship,
combined with such precision in throwing the weapons. In very truth
will I take thee with me unto the battle, ay, and willingly, for woe!
I say, be to the enemy who should find himself within reach of thy
darts. But one thing thou must promise me. Keep thou ever to this
Numidian style of warfare, advancing and retiring on horseback, and
casting of darts and javelines. But the use of the sword, for which
thy bodily strength would not be sufficient, ever avoid; likewise
avoid, if possible, dismounting and fighting on foot.”
“Nevertheless, the use of the sword I know too, mine uncle, for good
old Gisco hath taught it me for years past.”
“Maybe! Maybe that he hath; but, for all that, promise me to keep, if
possible, to the horse and the dart-throwing, in which thou art more
than the match for any Roman, and thou shalt come with me into the
bloodiest battle. Give me thy word, Elissa.”
“I promise thee, mine uncle Mago, to do thy bidding in this matter,
and, further, in all else appertaining unto warfare, to be entirely
subservient unto thee.”
Thus it came to pass that, after a year or two’s campaigning, Elissa
was present at the fateful battle in which Mago defeated and overthrew
Cnœus Scipio. Further, while charging alongside Mago in the hottest
of the battle, it was even the hand of Hannibal’s daughter which
discharged the missile which struck the Roman General in the joints of
his armour, and cost him his life. As at about the same time,
Hasdrubal defeated Publius Scipio, and slew him also, for a time the
Carthaginians completely regained the upper hand in Spain. For the
brothers Scipio, being both dead, there was no one left to lead the
Roman forces.
Mago and Hasdrubal now joined hands, and drove the shattered Roman
troops into various camps and cities well to the north of the Ebro,
after which, Elissa, accompanied by her uncle Hasdrubal and all his
army, returned to New Carthage for the winter. But her uncle Mago
still kept the field.