the field; one under the consul Flaminius, and the other under the
consul Servilius. Hannibal first marched against Flaminius, but in
passing the swamps of the river Arno, his army suffered greatly, and
he himself lost one of his eyes. Soon after this, Flaminius, who was
a rash and headstrong man, came up with him on the banks of the lake
Trasimenus, and gave the Carthaginians battle. Here, again, the genius
of Hannibal triumphed. The conflict was dreadful, and the water of the
lake where the armies met, was red with blood. But the Romans were
totally defeated.
After this event, a famous general, Quintus Fabius Maximus, was
appointed dictator of Rome, and, under his direction, a new policy was
adopted. Instead of sending armies to act offensively against Hannibal
at a distance, the defensive system of warfare was rigidly observed.
This prudent course, adopted by Fabius, has given a signification
to his name; the _Fabian_ policy being a term which is used as
synonymous with _prudent_ policy. It is thought that Washington, in our
revolutionary war, imitated this great Roman general.
But the successes of Hannibal and the disasters of Rome, had not
yet ended. In the year 216, another battle was determined upon, and
Hannibal met the enemy at Cannæ, near the present city of Naples. Here,
again, the Romans were defeated with dreadful slaughter. Not less than
forty thousand of their soldiers were slain. To this day, the relics
of the fight are ploughed up from the ground, and the spot where the
battle took place, is called the “field of blood.” If the red stain
has long since vanished from the soil, time cannot wash out the bloody
record from the memory of man.
Beside this fearful carnage, ten thousand Roman soldiers were taken
prisoners. The Carthaginian loss was small. We can only account for
such events as these, by the supposition that Hannibal, whose army
was scarcely half as large as that of the Romans, was a man greatly
superior in capacity even to the able and practised generals of Rome,
who were sent against him. Nothing in modern times has been witnessed,
to compare with his achievements, except those of Napoleon, operating
in the same countries, and also contending against disciplined troops
and generals long practised in the military art.
The whole of lower Italy was now in the possession of Hannibal. He had
entered the country by the north, and, having passed Rome, was in the
southern portion of the peninsula. It would seem that he was now near
the consummation of his wishes, and that the imperial city must fall
before him; but such was not the event. A defensive system was still
observed, and the city being too formidable for attack, Hannibal was
obliged to look around for aid. He applied to Philip of Macedon and the
Syracusans, but the Romans contrived to keep both occupied at home.
Hasdrubal, the brother of Hannibal, had charge of the Carthaginian
forces in Spain, where he conducted the war with ability. In a great
battle, he defeated the Romans; and two generals, by the name of
Scipio, fell. Another Scipio was sent thither, and he soon recovered
in Spain what the Romans had lost there. Hasdrubal now left that
country to join his brother, and, crossing the Alps without opposition,
reached Italy. Before he could effect the junction he desired, he was
met by the Roman forces, his army cut to pieces and he himself slain.
Hannibal was now obliged to act on the defensive. Yet he continued
to sustain himself here for a series of years without calling upon
Carthage for supplies.
Scipio, having finished the war in Spain, now transported his army
across the Mediterranean: thus _carrying the war into Africa_, and
giving rise to an expression still in vogue, and significant of
effective retaliation. By the aid of Massinissa, a powerful prince of
Numidia, now Morocco, he gained two victories over the Carthaginians,
who were obliged hastily to recall their great commander from Italy.
He landed at Leptis, and advanced near Zama, five days’ journey to
the west of Carthage. Here he met the Roman forces, and here, for the
first time, he suffered a total defeat. The loss of the Carthaginians
was immense, and they were obliged to sue for peace. This was granted
on humiliating terms by Scipio, called Africanus, after this victory.
Hannibal would still have resisted, but he was compelled by his
countrymen to submit. Thus ended the second Punic war, 200 B. C, having
continued about eighteen years.
Hannibal now applied himself to the reform of abuses in the government
of Carthage. In this he was supported by the people, but he incurred
the dislike of certain leading men among his countrymen. These,
insensible to his great services, and only guided by their jealousy,
sent to the Roman authorities certain representations, calculated to
excite their suspicion and arouse their anger against him. Ambassadors
were accordingly sent to Carthage, to demand his punishment; but
Hannibal, foreseeing the storm, fled to Tyre. From this place he went
to Ephesus, and induced Antiochus to declare war against Rome, B. C.
196. He had himself but a subordinate command, and when the war, which
proved unfortunate, was over, he was compelled to depart, and seek a
refuge with Prusias, prince of Bithynia, in Asia Minor. The Romans,
being uneasy so long as their formidable enemy was alive, sent to
Prusias to demand that he should be given up. Hannibal, now driven to
extremity, and sick of life, destroyed himself by poison, B. C. 183, in
the sixty-fifth year of his age.
We have no accounts of this wonderful man except from his enemies, the
Romans, and nothing from them but his public career. Prejudiced as are
these sources of evidence, they still exhibit him as one of the most
extraordinary men that has ever lived. Many of the events of his life
remind us of the career of Napoleon. Like him, he crossed the Alps with
a great army; like him, he was repeatedly victorious over disciplined
and powerful forces in Italy; like him, he was finally overwhelmed in a
great battle; like him, he was a statesman as well as a general; like
him, he was the idol of the army; like him, he was finally driven from
his country and died in exile. No one achievement of Bonaparte’s life
was equal to that of Hannibal in crossing the Alps, if we consider
the difficulties he had to encounter; nor has anything in generalship
surpassed the ability he displayed in sustaining himself and his army,
for sixteen years, in Italy, in the face of Rome, and without asking
for assistance from his own country.
During this whole period he never once dismissed his forces, and
though they were composed of Africans, Spaniards, Gauls, Carthaginians
and Greeks—persons of different laws, languages and habits—never
was anything like mutiny displayed among them. How wonderful was the
genius that held such a vast number of persons—the fiery spirits of
so many different nations—subject to one will, and obedient to one
authority! Where can we look for evidence of talent superior to this?
We cannot doubt that Hannibal, in addition to his great mind, possessed
those personal qualifications, which enabled him to exercise powers
of fascination over all those persons who came into his presence; and
that, in this respect too, he bore a resemblance to Napoleon.
We may not approve, yet we can hardly fail to admire, the unflinching
hostility of Hannibal to Rome. He had been taught this in his
childhood; it came with the first lessons of life, and from the lips
of a father; he had sworn it at the altar. Rome was the great enemy
of his country; and as he loved the last, he must hate the first. His
duty, his destiny, might serve to impel him to wage uncompromising war
against Rome; for this he lived—for this, at last, he died.
Nor can we believe that this sentiment, which formed the chief spring
of his actions, was unmixed with patriotism. Indeed, this was
doubtless at its very root. It was for the eclipse that she cast over
Carthage, that he would annihilate Rome. It was from a conviction
that one of these great powers must give way to the other—that
the existence of Rome boded destruction to Carthage—that he waged
uncompromising and deadly war upon the former.
That Hannibal was patriotic, is evinced also by the reforms which he
sought to effect in the government of his country. These had for their
object the benefit of the people at large. For this, he obtained the
confidence of the mass, while he incurred the hostility of the few.
It is no evidence against him that he fell a victim to the jealousy
thus excited, for such has too often been the fate of the lover of his
country.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
ALEXANDER, KING OF MACEDON.
It is now somewhat more than two thousand years since this warrior
flourished; yet his image continues to stand out from the page of
history in bold relief, seeming not only to claim our attention, but to
challenge our admiration. A brief outline of his history may enable us
to judge upon what basis this undying fame is founded.
Alexander was born 354 B. C., on the same day that Erostratus destroyed
the famous temple of Diana at Ephesus, by fire. A wit of the time
remarked that “it was no wonder that the temple of Diana should be
burnt at Ephesus, while the goddess was at Macedon, attending the
birth of Alexander.” Plutarch observes that this witticism was frigid
enough to have extinguished the flames. Philip, Alexander’s father,
being absent at the time of his birth, received three messages in one
day: the first informed him that his general, Parmenio, had won a great
battle; the second, that his horse had gained the prize at the Olympic
games; the third, that his wife had borne him a son.
At the time of Alexander’s birth, Macedonia, which lay north of Greece,
and now constitutes that part of Turkey called Romelia, had become a
warlike and powerful kingdom. Philip was not only an able warrior, but
an ambitious and sagacious statesman. He greatly civilized his own
people, trained them to arms, and added to his kingdom several adjacent
states. By a series of victories and crafty negotiations he had also
become the nominal protector, but real master of Greece. It was against
the insidious policy of Philip that Demosthenes pronounced his caustic
speeches, which gave rise to the term “Philippics.”
Although Philip was ruthless in war and unscrupulous in policy, still
he was a very enlightened prince. He understood many of the arts,
customs and feelings which belong to civilization; nor was he destitute
of noble traits of character. We are told that a Grecian, named
Arcadius, was constantly railing against him. Venturing once into the
dominions of Philip, the courtiers suggested to their prince that he
had now an opportunity to punish Arcadius for his past insults, and to
put it out of his power to repeat them. The king took their advice, but
in a different way. Instead of seizing the hostile stranger and putting
him to death, he sent for him, and then caused him to be dismissed,
loaded with courtesies and kindness.
Some time after Arcadius’ departure from Macedon, word was brought
that the king’s old enemy had become one of his warmest friends, and
did nothing but diffuse his praises wherever he went. On hearing this,
Philip turned to his courtiers, and said with a smile, “Am not I a
better physician than you are?” We are also told of numerous instances
in which Philip treated his prisoners of war with a kindness quite
unusual in the barbarous age in which he lived. Though dissolute in
private life, as a prince he was far in advance of his nation in all
that belongs to civilization.
No better evidence of his enlightened views can be required than is
afforded by the pains he bestowed upon the education of Alexander,
his eldest son, and heir to his throne. He obtained for him the best
masters, and finally placed him under the care of Aristotle, then the
most learned and famous philosopher of Greece, and one of the most
extraordinary men that ever lived. It cannot but be interesting and
instructive to trace the history of the greatest warrior, who was, at
the same time, the pupil of the greatest philosopher, of antiquity.
Alexander was an apt and attentive student, and easily mastered the
studies to which he applied. He was somewhat headstrong if treated
with harshness, and he resisted, if an attempt was made to drive him.
He, however, was docile and obedient when treated gently. It would
seem, that, in this at least, he was very much like the clever boys
of our own day. He mastered not only matters of science, but polite
literature also. He was greatly delighted with Homer’s Iliad, and, it
is thought, modelled himself upon the warlike heroes of that poem. In
after days, even in his campaigns, he took a copy of this work with
him, and in the camp, read it at moments of leisure, and slept with it
at night beneath his pillow.
Alexander was greatly attached to Aristotle during his pupilage,
though he changed both in feeling and conduct towards him afterwards.
Philip seems to have formed a high estimate of the services rendered
by Aristotle. The latter being born at Stagira—and hence called the
Stagirite—which had been dismantled, Philip ordered it, in compliment
to the philosopher, to be rebuilt, and re-established there the
inhabitants which had either fled or been reduced to slavery. He also
ordered a beautiful promenade, called Mirza, to be prepared on the
borders of the river, for the studies and literary conversation of the
people. Here were shown, even in the time of Plutarch, Aristotle’s
stone seats and shady walks.
It is interesting to remark here, that both Philip and Alexander,
powerful sovereigns and men of great minds, were yet inferior, in what
constitutes greatness, to Aristotle. They treated him, indeed, as their
inferior—an object of their patronage; and it is also true, that
both Philip and Alexander are remembered at the present day; but the
consequences of their actions ceased ages ago. Not so with Aristotle:
his books being preserved, have come down to our times, and for two
thousand years have been constantly exercising a powerful influence
over mankind. There can be no doubt, therefore, that the schoolmaster
is infinitely above the prince; the one lives for a generation, the
other for all time; the one deals with external things which perish;
the other with knowledge, science—principles—which never die. The one
is a being of action, the other of mind; the one may be great for a
brief space in the eye of vulgar observation, but he is soon quenched
in utter oblivion; the other, though his body be dead, still lives by
the power of the spirit. It is desirable to impress this truth on our
hearts, for it shows that true glory lies in cultivating and exercising
the mind; while, in comparison, it is a poor and mean ambition, which
incites us to seek only worldly power or wealth or station.
At an early period, Alexander displayed noble qualities, amid some
vices. He was exceedingly ambitious, and when news came that his father
had taken some strong town, or won some great battle, “My father will
conquer,” he exclaimed impatiently “the whole world, and will leave
nothing for me to conquer.” Though in the light of our Christian
philosophy, nothing more wicked than the feelings here displayed could
exist, still it accorded with the education he had received, and was
an earnest of that love of war and conquest which signalized his after
career. It may be stated, also, that Alexander did not value riches
or pleasure, in his youth, but seemed to be always excited by a love
of glory; he did not desire a kingdom that should afford him opulence
and the means of luxury, but one that would bring wars and conflicts,
and the full exercise of ambition. A sad portrait this, viewed in the
light of our day—yet the very description of a hero, and almost of a
god, in the age and country in which he lived.
When Alexander was about twelve years old, a horse was brought for sale
from Thessaly called Bucephalus. The price required was about £2,500
sterling, or $12,000. Yet when any one attempted to mount him, he
became restive and unmanageable. Philip was incensed that such a price
should be asked for so vicious a beast, but Alexander had observed him
carefully, and saw that he was indeed a noble creature. He therefore
wished to try him. His father rebuked him sharply, but the prince
persevered, and desired to mount the horse. “If you are not able to
ride him upon trial,” said Philip, “what forfeit will you pay?” “The
price of the horse,” said Alexander. This produced a laugh rather at
Alexander’s expense—but the forfeit was agreed upon, and he ran to
the horse. He had observed that he was startled at his shadow, the
sun shining very brightly; so he turned his head to the sun, leaped
lightly upon his back, obtained a firm seat, and gave the animal the
rein. The noble beast felt, with that quick intelligence of which his
race is capable, that one worthy to be his master was on his back, and
set forward. Finding him inclined to run, Alexander, nothing daunted,
but with a spirit as wild and fearless as his own, and no doubt with a
bounding and joyous sympathy, gave him the spur, and made him fly over
the plain.
Philip and all his courtiers around him were greatly frightened at
first, but soon Alexander wheeled Bucephalus about, and rode him back
to the place from which he started. The animal was completely subdued;
yet there was something in his proud look, as he now stood still before
the admiring throng, which seemed to say, “I yielded, but only to one
worthy of being a conqueror.” Alexander was received by a shout of
acclamation—but Philip was overcome by the noble chivalry of his boy,
and wept in very joy. “Seek another kingdom, my son!” said he, in the
fulness of his heart, “for Macedon is too small for thee!” Such was the
value in those days set upon personal gallantry and courage; and we
know that these qualities are of the utmost importance, when hard blows
usually decide the fate of empires.
Everything seemed to show that Alexander had very early acted under
the idea of being a king, and of pursuing, in that character, a career
of conquest. No doubt all around him, the courtiers, his father and
mother, and his teachers had thus trained him, and no doubt all this
coincided with his natural turn of mind. He not only showed personal
courage, but a precocious desire of practical knowledge. When less than
twelve years of age, ambassadors came to visit the court of Macedon
from Persia. Philip was absent, and Alexander therefore received them
with great politeness, and a sobriety quite astonishing. He asked no
trifling or childish questions; but made a great many inquiries about
the roads to Persia; the distance from place to place; the situation
of certain provinces; the character of their king; how he treated his
enemies; in what the power of Persia lay, &c. All this astonished
the ambassadors, who, in their excitement, exclaimed, “The boasted
sagacity of Philip is nothing to the lofty and enterprising genius of
his son!” Such, indeed, were the striking qualities of young Alexander,
that the people of Macedon, in their admiration, called the youth king,
and his father only general!
Philip was pleased with all this, but as Alexander grew older, troubles
sprung up between them. Olympias, the mother of Alexander, was a woman
of fierce and restive temper, and she was justly incensed by a foolish
marriage which Philip made with a young lady, named Cleopatra. At the
celebration of this union there was great festivity, and the king got
drunk. Alexander’s mind, having been poisoned by his mother, was in
such a state of irritation, that he spoke rudely at the feast. Philip
drew his sword, but his passion and the wine he had drunk, caused
him to stumble, and he fell upon the floor. “See,” said Alexander,
insolently—“men of Macedon, see there the man who was preparing to
pass from Europe into Asia! He is not able to pass from one table to
another!” After this insult, he left the table, and taking his mother,
they repaired to Epirus.
Here they spent some time, but Philip at last induced them to come
back. Other troubles, however, arose, and finally king Philip was slain
by Pausanius, whom he had injured. Olympias was thought to have incited
the young man to this desperate act, and suspicion of participation
fell upon Alexander.
The latter, now twenty years of age, succeeded to his father’s throne.
His dominion extended over Macedon and the adjacent tribes to the
north, including nearly the whole of that territory which now forms a
part of Turkey, and lies between Greece, and the Argentaro mountains.
Macedonia itself, was far less civilized than the southern parts
of Greece: the people were, indeed, men of a different race, being
esteemed barbarous, though the kings claimed to have been of Hellenic
origin, and even to trace their lineage to Achilles and Hercules. The
nation was much softened in its manners by the wise administration of
Philip, while, at the same time, they were carefully trained in the art
of war. The surrounding tribes, still more savage than his own people,
and often giving exercise to his arms, still served to fill his ranks
with the most daring and powerful soldiery.
Greece, too, constituted a part of the kingdom now left to the youthful
Alexander. But his father had only conquered, not consolidated into
one empire, his vast dominions. Upon his death, the barbarians on
the north, and the states of Greece at the south, feeling themselves
liberated from a tyrant, and little fearing a youth of twenty, either
revolted or showed a disposition to revolt. Alexander’s advisers
recommended him to give up Greece, and seek only to subdue the
barbarous tribes around him, and to do this by mild measures.
Such a course did not suit the young king. He took the opposite course;
marched north as far as the Danube, defeating his principal enemy, and
thus securing submission to his authority in that quarter. He then
pushed southward, and fell upon the restive Thebans, destroying their
city, and reducing the place to a mere heap of ghastly ruins! No less
than six thousand of the inhabitants were slain in battle, and three
thousand were sold as slaves!
In the midst of the horrors which took place immediately after Thebes
was taken—fire and the sword, slaughter, rapine, violence, raging on
all sides—a party of savage Thracians, belonging to Alexander’s army,
demolished the house of Timoclea, a woman of high standing and quality.
Having carried off the booty found in her house, and shamefully abused
the lady, the captain asked her if she had not some gold and silver
concealed. She replied that she had—and taking him alone into the
garden, showed him a well, in which she said she had thrown everything
of value when the city was taken. The officer stooped to look into
the well, when the lady pushed him down, and rolling stones down
upon him, soon despatched him. The Thracians, coming up, found what
she had done, and, binding her hands, took her to Alexander. When he
asked her who she was—“A sister of Theagenes,” said she, proudly and
fearlessly,—“a Theban general, who fought for the liberty of Greece,
against the usurpation of Philip—and fell gloriously at the battle of
Cheronæa!” Alexander was so much struck by her noble mien and patriotic
sentiments, that he caused her and her children to be set at liberty.
Such are the few rays of light, that flash across the dark path of the
conqueror!