_Letter from a Carthaginian Civilian to a Friend in Carthage_
On Board the _Hamilcar Barca_,
SARDINIA.
My dear Gisco,
It is now five weeks that we have been in this place, and we shall have
to stay here until the “battering practice” is over. We have already
got through our “rammers’ test.” I do not think it is a bad place
myself, and most of the people seem to prefer it to Thule, where they
spent the whole summer, except Mago our physician, who cannot endure
either the Romans or the Sardinians, and who is longing to get back
to the glittering quays and the broad market-places of Carthage. It
is true that the Sardinians are a thievish race, and they seldom, if
ever, speak the truth; moreover, they trade on the honesty and the
good nature of our people, and our unfamiliarity with their various
and uncouth jargons. For instance, a favourite plan of theirs is this:
many of them gain their living by the catching of lobsters, which they
send by Ostia to Rome to supply the banquets of the rich patricians of
that city. One such fisherman came to the captain of our vessel with
the following complaint: He professed that for many weeks he had toiled
and caught a great number of lobsters; these lobsters, he said, he
was keeping against the feasts of the Saturnalia at Rome, in a large
wicker basket not far from the shore; and that some of our men having
gone ashore in one of our swift and brass-prowed boats, had in the
darkness of twilight collided with his wicker basket and caused the
escape of many hundreds of live lobsters, for which loss he demanded a
compensation amounting to two hundred talents. On consulting the Roman
Magistrate of the place we learnt that this fisherman made a similar
demand from every ship which visited the bay; moreover, that he had
caught but one lobster. So although he reduced his demand to the eighth
of one talent, it was refused to him.
Another stratagem of the Sardinian native is to demand money for the
poultry destroyed by the sailors of our ship. Every family in the
village complained that their poultry had been annihilated by our
unprincipled mariners, but little credence was lent to the tale,
because at the moment when the complaint was made there was only one
hen in the village, a dead one that had just perished of old age.
Life on board this vessel is full of variety and interest to the
stranger. Long before sunrise one is wakened by the sound of a
brazen trumpet. This is followed by much whistling and a deep, but
not unmusical, call from some elder sailor, who exhorts and finally
persuades those over whom he is put in authority to rise from their
narrow couches and to taste the morning air. They then set about to
wash the upper part of the ship, an occupation which is pursued more
from a disinterested love of cleaning than from any practical purpose,
as by evening the ship is as dirty as it was before it was washed. But
the men enjoy this work, and indeed the only people who suffer from it
are such men as myself who are on board ship by chance, and who are
used to sleeping uninterruptedly until some time after the sun has
arisen. Some people have been known to sleep unconcernedly through all
this noise, but such men are rare.
An hour or two after this process of washing is accomplished, food is
served to the officers and men of the ship. The officers rarely partake
of more than one olive in the early morning; such is their endurance
and their self-denial. This they wash down with a small glass of red
native wine, which is singularly pleasant and exhilarating. As soon as
this light repast is over the real business of the day begins.
First of all the men are inspected on deck, and it is carefully noted
whether they are in a state of cleanliness and order, and further
whether they are sober enough to perform their daily duties. Any man
who is found twice running to be in a state of absolute intoxication is
drowned, and the ship is thereby disembarrassed of superfluous cargo.
The greater part of the forenoon is spent in teaching the young their
duties, and in teaching the lads who have lately arrived from Carthage
the full duties of a seaman. This task is carried out with patience
and persistence by the instructors, who are never known to raise their
voice in anger, or to use a harsh word. Indeed the nearest approach to
harshness which I observed was when one day I heard one of the elder
mariners say to a lad who was slow to perform his duty, “Take care lest
I should observe thee to bend.” This is a nautical expression which
means, so I am told, “be strenuous in all things.”
At noon the second repast of the day is taken, the food consisting of
black bread, herbs, preserved olives, and a small fish which is caught
in great quantities in the bay by such as are skilful. When the meal
is over the officers retire to a small cabin, where they aid their
digestion by playful gambols, such as wrestling and beating each other
with their fists, until they are weary. After this they fall into a
profound slumber on the benches of the cabin, with the exception of one
officer who needs must always remain on deck to observe the weather
and the omens, and make note thereof, for the captain of the vessel is
inquisitive with regard to such matters.
The younger officers are respectful to their seniors, and address them
as “Suffetes”; but this outward form of respect when duty is concerned
does not prevent the more youthful of the juniors from expressing
the innate exuberance and impertinence which are natural to youth.
Moreover, they call each other by familiar names, such as “Sheep,”
“Hog,” “Little Hog,” “Little Pig,” “Canary,” “Cat,” “Little Cat.”
Later in the afternoon there is a further inspection on the deck, which
takes place to the sound of many trumpets. At sunset, after a still
louder blast of the trumpet, the third repast is held. The officers
attend this in state, wearing silken togas, jewelled helmets, and
golden chains, and during all the meal a hundred slaves make music
on silver cymbals, harps, and drums. This they do with great skill,
knowing that should they be unskilful in their art, they risk being
hurled into the sea. All the officers dine together, with the exception
of the Captain, who feeds in a small turret by himself and partakes of
especial dainties due to his rank, such as nightingales’ tongues and
the livers of peacocks.
At the end of the repast the eldest of the officers fills a golden
bowl full of wine and water and drinks to the health of the “Gerusia.”
Immediately before he does so the goblet of every officer present is
filled with wine and water, but should any one taste of his wine before
the Elder of the assembly rises to his feet, he is constrained to empty
one after another every goblet at the board and to refill them at his
own expense. And this proves a tax both on his moral courage, his
physical endurance, and his material resources.
When this ceremony has been accomplished such officers who are skilled
in the art make music on the flute or the tom-tom, while others
sing plaintive Carthaginian ditties about the dark-eyed lasses they
have left behind them. Sometimes others, still more skilful, give a
display of dancing. After this has continued for about an hour another
deafening blast on the trumpet announces that all must seek their
cabins for the night, save those unhappy officers who take it by turn
for a space of four hours at a time to observe the features of the
landscape, the aspect of the heavens, the position of the stars, and
the nature of the omens. According as these omens are favourable, or
unfavourable, the nature of the following day’s work is determined.
There are in the ship a particular race of men who are neither soldiers
nor sailors; these are called by the Latin name “Legio Classica.” Their
duties consist in maintaining discipline amongst the company of the
ship and in dealing out retribution when it is necessary; they are well
known for the unerring accuracy of their statements, so much so that if
any one in the ship makes a statement or relates a tale that bears in
it the signs of improbability, he will be ordered to go and tell it to
the men of this legion, for it is known that should the statement be
untruthful or inaccurate they would be swift to detect it and to laugh
the man to scorn.
The monotony of life on board ship, and the rigour of the discipline
enforced, are relieved by many pleasant occupations. Thus the officers
throw dice on a place of the ship specially appointed for the purpose,
which is called the “bridge,” and often in the evening the sailors sing
together in soft and tuneful chorus. With regard to the “ramming” and
the “battering practice”--both of them most interesting spectacles--I
will write to you another time. In the meantime, farewell.