CHAPTER VIII.

THE DICTATOR FABIUS.

B.C. 216

Alarm at Rome.--The consul Flaminius.--Another stratagem.--Confidence

of Flaminius.--Complete rout of the Romans.--Effects of the

battle.--Panic of the Romans.--Their superstitious fears.--Omens and

bad signs.--Curious transformations.--Their influence.--Importance

attached to these stories.--Feverish excitement at Rome.--News of the

battle.--Gatherings of the people.--Arrival of stragglers.--Appointment

of a dictator.--Fabius.--Measures of Fabius.--Religious

ceremonies.--Minucius.--Supreme authority of a dictator.--Proclamation

of Fabius.--Progress of Hannibal.--Policy of Fabius.--He declines

fighting.--Hannibal's danger.--Stratagem of the fiery

oxen.--Unpopularity of Fabius.--Hannibal's sagacity.--Plots against

Fabius.--He goes to Rome.--Minucius risks a battle.--Speech of

Fabius.--Fabius returns to the army.--He is deprived of the supreme

power.--Division of power.--Ambuscade of Hannibal.--Hannibal's

success.--Fabius comes to the rescue.--Speech of Minucius.--The Roman

army again united.--Character of Fabius.--His integrity.

In the mean time, while Hannibal was thus rapidly making his way

toward the gates of Rome, the people of the city became more and more

alarmed, until at last a general feeling of terror pervaded all the

ranks of society. Citizens and soldiers were struck with one common

dread. They had raised a new army and put it under the command of a

new consul, for the terms of service of the others had expired.

Flaminius was the name of this new commander, and he was moving

northward at the head of his forces at the time that Hannibal was

conducting his troops with so much labor and difficulty through the

meadows and morasses of the Arno.

This army was, however, no more successful than its predecessors had

been. Hannibal contrived to entrap Flaminius by a stratagem, as he had

entrapped Sempronius before. There is in the eastern part of Etruria,

near the mountains, a lake called Lake Thrasymene. It happened that

this lake extended so near to the base of the mountains as to leave

only a narrow passage between--a passage but little wider than was

necessary for a road. Hannibal contrived to station a detachment of

his troops in ambuscade at the foot of the mountains, and others on

the declivities above, and then in some way or other to entice

Flaminius and his army through the defile. Flaminius was, like

Sempronius, ardent, self-confident, and vain. He despised the power of

Hannibal, and thought that his success hitherto had been owing to the

inefficiency or indecision of his predecessors. For his part, his only

anxiety was to encounter him, for he was sure of an easy victory. He

advanced, therefore, boldly and without concern into the pass of

Thrasymene, when he learned that Hannibal was encamped beyond it.

Hannibal had established an encampment openly on some elevated ground

beyond the pass, and as Flaminius and his troops came into the

narrowest part of the defile, they saw this encampment at a distance

before them, with a broad plain beyond the pass intervening. They

supposed that the whole force of the enemy was there, not dreaming of

the presence of the strong detachments which were hid on the slopes of

the mountains above them, and were looking down upon them at that

very moment from behind rocks and bushes. When, therefore, the Romans

had got through the pass, they spread out upon the plain beyond it,

and were advancing to the camp, when suddenly the secreted troops

burst forth from their ambuscade, and, pouring down the mountains,

took complete possession of the pass, and attacked the Romans in the

rear, while Hannibal attacked them in the van. Another long, and

desperate, and bloody contest ensued. The Romans were beaten at every

point, and, as they were hemmed in between the lake, the mountain, and

the pass, they could not retreat; the army was, accordingly, almost

wholly cut to pieces. Flaminius himself was killed.

The news of this battle spread every where, and produced the strongest

sensation. Hannibal sent dispatches to Carthage announcing what he

considered his final victory over the great foe, and the news was

received with the greatest rejoicings. At Rome, on the other hand, the

news produced a dreadful shock of disappointment and terror. It seemed

as if the last hope of resisting the progress of their terrible enemy

was gone, and that they had nothing now to do but to sink down in

despair, and await the hour when his columns should come pouring in

through the gates of the city.

The people of Rome were, in fact, prepared for a panic, for their

fears had been increasing and gathering strength for some time. They

were very superstitious in those ancient days in respect to signs and

omens. A thousand trifling occurrences, which would, at the present

day, be considered of no consequence whatever, were then considered

bad signs, auguring terrible calamities; and, on occasions like these,

when calamities seemed to be impending, every thing was noticed, and

circumstances which would not have been regarded at all at ordinary

times, were reported from one to another, the stories being

exaggerated as they spread, until the imaginations of the people were

filled with mysterious but invincible fears. So universal was the

belief in these prodigies and omens, that they were sometimes formally

reported to the senate, committees were appointed to inquire into

them, and solemn sacrifices were offered to "expiate them," as it was

termed, that is, to avert the displeasure of the gods, which the omens

were supposed to foreshadow and portend.

A very curious list of these omens was reported to the senate during

the winter and spring in which Hannibal was advancing toward Rome. An

ox from the cattle-market had got into a house, and, losing his way,

had climbed up into the third story, and, being frightened by the

noise and uproar of those who followed him, ran out of a window and

fell down to the ground. A light appeared in the sky in the form of

ships. A temple was struck with lightning. A spear in the hand of a

statue of Juno, a celebrated goddess, shook, one day, of itself.

Apparitions of men in white garments were seen in a certain place. A

wolf came into a camp, and snatched the sword of a soldier on guard

out of his hands, and ran away with it. The sun one day looked smaller

than usual. Two moons were seen together in the sky. This was in the

daytime, and one of the moons was doubtless a halo or a white cloud.

Stones fell out of the sky at a place called Picenum. This was one of

the most dreadful of all the omens, though it is now known to be a

common occurrence.

These omens were all, doubtless, real occurrences, more or less

remarkable, it is true, but, of course, entirely unmeaning in respect

to their being indications of impending calamities. There were other

things reported to the senate which must have originated almost wholly

in the imaginations and fears of the observers. Two shields, it was

said, in a certain camp, sweated blood. Some people were reaping, and

bloody ears of grain fell into the basket. This, of course, must have

been wholly imaginary, unless, indeed, one of the reapers had cut his

fingers with the sickle. Some streams and fountains became bloody;

and, finally, in one place in the country, some goats turned into

sheep. A hen, also, became a cock, and a cock changed to a hen.

Such ridiculous stories would not be worthy of a moment's attention

now, were it not for the degree of importance attached to them then.

They were formally reported to the Roman senate, the witnesses who

asserted that they had seen them were called in and examined, and a

solemn debate was held on the question what should be done to avert

the supernatural influences of evil which the omens expressed. The

senate decided to have three days of expiation and sacrifice, during

which the whole people of Rome devoted themselves to the religious

observances which they thought calculated to appease the wrath of

Heaven. They made various offerings and gifts to the different gods,

among which one was a golden thunderbolt of fifty pounds' weight,

manufactured for Jupiter, whom they considered the thunderer.

All these things took place before the battle at Lake Thrasymene, so

that the whole community were in a very feverish state of excitement

and anxiety before the news from Flaminius arrived. When these tidings

at last came, they threw the whole city into utter consternation. Of

course, the messenger went directly to the senate-house to report to

the government, but the story that such news had arrived soon spread

about the city, and the whole population crowded into the streets and

public squares, all eagerly asking for the tidings. An enormous throng

assembled before the senate-house calling for information. A public

officer appeared at last, and said to them in a loud voice, "We have

been defeated in a great battle." He would say no more. Still rumors

spread from one to another, until it was generally known throughout

the city that Hannibal had conquered the Roman army again in a great

battle, that great numbers of the soldiers had fallen or been taken

prisoners, and that the consul himself was slain.

The night was passed in great anxiety and terror, and the next day,

and for several of the succeeding days, the people gathered in great

numbers around the gates, inquiring eagerly for news of every one that

came in from the country. Pretty soon scattered soldiers and small

bodies of troops began to arrive, bringing with them information of

the battle, each one having a different tale to tell, according to his

own individual experience in the scene. Whenever these men arrived,

the people of the city, and especially the women who had husbands or

sons in the army, crowded around them, overwhelming them with

questions, and making them tell their tale again and again, as if the

intolerable suspense and anxiety of the hearers could not be

satisfied. The intelligence was such as in general to confirm and

increase the fears of those who listened to it; but sometimes, when it

made known the safety of a husband or a son, it produced as much

relief and rejoicing as it did in other cases terror and despair. That

maternal love was as strong an impulse in those rough days as it is in

the more refined and cultivated periods of the present age, is evinced

by the fact that two of these Roman mothers, on seeing their sons

coming suddenly into their presence, alive and well, when they had

heard that they had fallen in battle, were killed at once by the

shock of surprise and joy, as if by a blow.

In seasons of great and imminent danger to the commonwealth, it was

the custom of the Romans to appoint what they called a dictator, that

is, a supreme executive, who was clothed with absolute and unlimited

powers; and it devolved on him to save the state from the threatened

ruin by the most prompt and energetic action. This case was obviously

one of the emergencies requiring such a measure. There was no time for

deliberations and debates; for deliberations and debates, in periods

of such excitement and danger, become disputes, and end in tumult and

uproar. Hannibal was at the head of a victorious army, ravaging the

country which he had already conquered, and with no obstacle between

him and the city itself. It was an emergency calling for the

appointment of a dictator. The people made choice of a man of great

reputation for experience and wisdom, named Fabius, and placed the

whole power of the state in his hands. All other authority was

suspended, and every thing was subjected to his sway. The whole city,

with the life and property of every inhabitant, was placed at his

disposal; the army and the fleets were also under his command, even

the consuls being subject to his orders.

Fabius accepted the vast responsibility which his election imposed

upon him, and immediately began to take the necessary measures. He

first made arrangements for performing solemn religious ceremonies, to

expiate the omens and propitiate the gods. He brought out all the

people in great convocations, and made them take vows, in the most

formal and imposing manner, promising offerings and celebrations in

honor of the various gods, at some future time, in case these

divinities would avert the threatening danger. It is doubtful,

however, whether Fabius, in doing these things, really believed that

they had any actual efficiency, or whether he resorted to them as a

means of calming and quieting the minds of the people, and producing

that composure and confidence which always results from a hope of the

favor of Heaven. If this last was his object, his conduct was

eminently wise.

Fabius, also, immediately ordered a large levy of troops to be made.

His second in command, called his _master of horse_, was directed to

make this levy, and to assemble the troops at a place called Tibur, a

few miles east of the city. There was always a master of horse

appointed to attend upon and second a dictator. The name of this

officer in the case of Fabius was Minucius. Minucius was as ardent,

prompt, and impetuous, as Fabius was cool, prudent, and calculating.

He levied the troops and brought them to their place of rendezvous.

Fabius went out to take the command of them. One of the consuls was

coming to join him, with a body of troops which he had under his

command. Fabius sent word to him that he must come without any of the

insignia of his authority, as all his authority, semi-regal as it was

in ordinary times, was superseded and overruled in the presence of a

dictator. A consul was accustomed to move in great state on all

occasions. He was preceded by twelve men, bearing badges and insignia,

to impress the army and the people with a sense of the greatness of

his dignity. To see, therefore, a consul divested of all these marks

of his power, and coming into the dictator's presence as any other

officer would come before an acknowledged superior, made the army of

Fabius feel a very strong sense of the greatness of their new

commander's dignity and power.

Fabius then issued a proclamation, which he sent by proper messengers

into all the region of country around Rome, especially to that part

toward the territory which was in possession of Hannibal. In this

proclamation he ordered all the people to abandon the country and the

towns which were not strongly fortified, and to seek shelter in the

castles, and forts, and fortified cities. They were commanded, also,

to lay waste the country which they should leave, and destroy all the

property, and especially all the provisions, which they could not take

to their places of refuge. This being done, Fabius placed himself at

the head of the forces which he had got together, and moved on,

cautiously and with great circumspection, in search of his enemy.

In the mean time, Hannibal had crossed over to the eastern side of

Italy, and had passed down, conquering and ravaging the country as he

went, until he got considerably south of Rome. He seems to have

thought it not quite prudent to advance to the actual attack of the

city, after the battle of Lake Thrasymene; for the vast population of

Rome was sufficient, if rendered desperate by his actually threatening

the capture and pillage of the city, to overwhelm his army entirely.

So he moved to the eastward, and advanced on that side until he had

passed the city, and thus it happened that Fabius had to march to the

southward and eastward in order to meet him. The two armies came in

sight of each other quite on the eastern side of Italy, very near the

shores of the Adriatic Sea.

The policy which Fabius resolved to adopt was, not to give Hannibal

battle, but to watch him, and wear his army out by fatigue and delays.

He kept, therefore, near him, but always posted his army on

advantageous ground, which all the defiance and provocations of

Hannibal could not induce him to leave. When Hannibal moved, which he

was soon compelled to do to procure provisions, Fabius would move too,

but only to post and intrench himself in some place of security as

before. Hannibal did every thing in his power to bring Fabius to

battle, but all his efforts were unavailing.

In fact, he himself was at one time in imminent danger. He had got

drawn, by Fabius's good management, into a place where he was

surrounded by mountains, upon which Fabius had posted his troops, and

there was only one defile which offered any egress, and this, too,

Fabius had strongly guarded. Hannibal resorted to his usual resource,

cunning and stratagem, for means of escape. He collected a herd of

oxen. He tied fagots across their horns, filling the fagots with

pitch, so as to make them highly combustible. In the night on which he

was going to attempt to pass the defile, he ordered his army to be

ready to march through, and then had the oxen driven up the hills

around on the further side of the Roman detachment which was guarding

the pass. The fagots were then lighted on the horns of the oxen. They

ran about, frightened and infuriated by the fire, which burned their

horns to the quick, and blinded them with the sparks which fell from

it. The leaves and branches of the forests were set on fire. A great

commotion was thus made, and the guards, seeing the moving lights and

hearing the tumult, supposed that the Carthaginian army were upon the

heights, and were coming down to attack them. They turned out in great

hurry and confusion to meet the imaginary foe, leaving the pass

unguarded, and, while they were pursuing the bonfires on the oxens'

heads into all sorts of dangerous and impracticable places, Hannibal

quietly marched his army through the defile and reached a place of

safety.

Although Fabius kept Hannibal employed and prevented his approaching

the city, still there soon began to be felt a considerable degree of

dissatisfaction that he did not act more decidedly. Minucius was

continually urging him to give Hannibal battle, and, not being able to

induce him to do so, he was continually expressing his discontent and

displeasure. The army sympathized with Minucius. He wrote home to Rome

too, complaining bitterly of the dictator's inefficiency. Hannibal

learned all this by means of his spies, and other sources of

information, which so good a contriver as he has always at command.

Hannibal was, of course, very much pleased to hear of these

dissensions, and of the unpopularity of Fabius. He considered such an

enemy as he--so prudent, cautious, and watchful--as a far more

dangerous foe than such bold and impetuous commanders as Flaminius and

Minucius, whom he could always entice into difficulty, and then easily

conquer.

Hannibal thought he would render Minucius a little help in making

Fabius unpopular. He found out from some Roman deserters that the

dictator possessed a valuable farm in the country, and he sent a

detachment of his troops there, with orders to plunder and destroy

the property all around it, but to leave the farm of Fabius untouched

and in safety. The object was to give to the enemies of Fabius at Rome

occasion to say that there was secretly a good understanding between

him and Hannibal, and that he was kept back from acting boldly in

defense of his country by some corrupt bargain which he had

traitorously made with the enemy.

These plans succeeded. Discontent and dissatisfaction spread rapidly,

both in the camp and in the city. At Rome they made an urgent demand

upon Fabius to return, ostensibly because they wished him to take part

in some great religious ceremonies, but really to remove him from the

camp, and give Minucius an opportunity to attack Hannibal. They also

wished to devise some method, if possible, of depriving him of his

power. He had been appointed for six months, and the time had not yet

nearly expired: but they wished to shorten, or, if they could not

shorten, to limit and diminish his power.

Fabius went to Rome, leaving the army under the orders of Minucius,

but commanding him positively not to give Hannibal battle, nor expose

his troops to any danger, but to pursue steadily the same policy

which he himself had followed. He had, however, been in Rome only a

short time before tidings came that Minucius had fought a battle and

gained a victory. There were boastful and ostentatious letters from

Minucius to the Roman senate, lauding the exploit which he had

performed.

Fabius examined carefully the accounts. He compared one thing with

another, and satisfied himself of what afterward proved to be the

truth, that Minucius had gained no victory at all. He had lost five or

six thousand men, and Hannibal had lost no more, and Fabius showed

that no advantage had been gained. He urged upon the senate the

importance of adhering to the line of policy he had pursued, and the

danger of risking every thing, as Minucius had done, on the fortunes

of a single battle. Besides, he said, Minucius had disobeyed his

orders, which were distinct and positive, and he deserved to be

recalled.

In saying these things Fabius irritated and exasperated his enemies

more than ever. "Here is a man," said they, "who will not only not

fight the enemies whom he is sent against himself, but he will not

allow any body else to fight them. Even at this distance, when his

second in command has obtained a victory, he will not admit it, and

endeavors to curtail the advantages of it. He wishes to protract the

war, that he may the longer continue to enjoy the supreme and

unlimited authority with which we have intrusted him."

The hostility to Fabius at last reached such a pitch, that it was

proposed in an assembly of the people to make Minucius his equal in

command. Fabius, having finished the business which called him to

Rome, did not wait to attend to the discussion of this question, but

left the city, and was proceeding on his way to join the army again,

when he was overtaken with a messenger bearing a letter informing him

that the decree had passed, and that he must thenceforth consider

Minucius as his colleague and equal. Minucius was, of course,

extremely elated at this result. "Now," said he, "we will see if

something can not be done."

The first question was, however, to decide on what principle and in

what way they should share their power. "We can not both command at

once," said Minucius. "Let us exercise the power in alternation, each

one being in authority for a day, or a week, or a month, or any other

period that you prefer."

"No," replied Fabius, "we will not divide the time, we will divide the

men. There are four legions. You shall take two of them, and the other

two shall be mine. I can thus, perhaps, save half the army from the

dangers in which I fear your impetuosity will plunge all whom you have

under your command."

This plan was adopted. The army was divided, and each portion went,

under its own leader, to its separate encampment. The result was one

of the most curious and extraordinary occurrences that is recorded in

the history of nations. Hannibal, who was well informed of all these

transactions, immediately felt that Minucius was in his power. He knew

that he was so eager for battle that it would be easy to entice him

into it, under almost any circumstances that he himself might choose

to arrange. Accordingly, he watched his opportunity when there was a

good place for an ambuscade near Minucius's camp, and lodged five

thousand men in it in such a manner that they were concealed by rocks

and other obstructions to the view. There was a hill between this

ground and the camp of Minucius. When the ambuscade was ready,

Hannibal sent up a small force to take possession of the top of the

hill, anticipating that Minucius would at once send up a stronger

force to drive them away. He did so. Hannibal then sent up more as a

re-enforcement. Minucius, whose spirit and pride were now aroused,

sent up more still, and thus, by degrees, Hannibal drew out his

enemy's whole force, and then, ordering his own troops to retreat

before them, the Romans were drawn on, down the hill, till they were

surrounded by the ambuscade. These hidden troops then came pouring out

upon them, and in a short time the Romans were thrown into utter

confusion, flying in all directions before their enemies, and entirely

at their mercy.

All would have been irretrievably lost had it not been for the

interposition of Fabius. He received intelligence of the danger at his

own camp, and marched out at once with all his force, and arrived upon

the ground so opportunely, and acted so efficiently, that he at once

completely changed the fortune of the day. He saved Minucius and his

half of the army from utter destruction. The Carthaginians retreated

in their turn, Hannibal being entirely overwhelmed with disappointment

and vexation at being thus deprived of his prey. History relates that

Minucius had the candor and good sense, after this, to acknowledge

his error, and yield to the guidance and direction of Fabius. He

called his part of the army together when they reached their camp, and

addressed them thus: "Fellow-soldiers, I have often heard it said that

the wisest men are those who possess wisdom and sagacity themselves,

and, next to them, those who know how to perceive and are willing to

be guided by the wisdom and sagacity of others; while they are fools

who do not know how to conduct themselves, and will not be guided by

those who do. We will not belong to this last class; and since it is

proved that we are not entitled to rank with the first, let us join

the second. We will march to the camp of Fabius, and join our camp

with his, as before. We owe to him, and also to all his portion of the

army, our eternal gratitude for the nobleness of spirit which he

manifested in coming to our deliverance, when he might so justly have

left us to ourselves."

The two legions repaired, accordingly, to the camp of Fabius, and a

complete and permanent reconciliation took place between the two

divisions of the army. Fabius rose very high in the general esteem by

this transaction. The term of his dictatorship, however, expired soon

after this, and as the danger from Hannibal was now less imminent,

the office was not renewed, but consuls were chosen as before.

The character of Fabius has been regarded with the highest admiration

by all mankind. He evinced a very noble spirit in all that he did. One

of his last acts was a very striking proof of this. He had bargained

with Hannibal to pay a certain sum of money as ransom for a number of

prisoners which had fallen into his hands, and whom Hannibal, on the

faith of that promise, had released. Fabius believed that the Romans

would readily ratify the treaty and pay the amount; but they demurred,

being displeased, or pretending to be displeased, because Fabius had

not consulted them before making the arrangement. Fabius, in order to

preserve his own and his country's faith unsullied, sold his farm to

raise the money. He did thus most certainly protect and vindicate his

own honor, but he can hardly be said to have saved that of the people

of Rome.

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