quinqueremes were practising. Most of them had never even seen an oar,
and they were now placed on benches ashore, ranged like those in the
ships, and carefully taught the movements of rowing, so that when the
ships were launched they were quite ready to drive them through the
waves. The Romans, who could fight best hand to hand, added a new and
important device, providing their ships with wooden bridges attached to
the masts, and ready to fall on an enemy's vessel whenever one came
near. A great spike at the end was driven into the deck of the enemy's
ship by the weight of the falling bridge, and held her while the Romans
charged across the bridge.
The new fleet was soon tried. It met a Carthaginian fleet on the north
coast of Sicily. The Romans proved poor sailors, but the bridges gave
them the victory. These could be wheeled round the mast and dropped in
any direction, and, however the Carthaginians approached, they found
themselves grappled and boarded by the Romans, whose formidable swords
soon did the rest. In the end Carthage lost fifty ships and ten thousand
men, and with them the dominion of the seas.
This success was a great event in the history of Rome. The victory was
celebrated by a great naval triumph, and a column was set up in the
Forum, which was adorned with the ornamental prows of ships.
Three years afterwards Rome resolved to carry the war into Africa, and
for this purpose built a great fleet of three hundred and thirty ships,
and manned by one hundred and forty thousand seamen, in addition to its
soldiers or fighting men. These were largely made up of prisoners from
Sardinia and Corsica, Carthaginian islands which had been attacked by
the Roman fleets. The two consuls in command were L. Manlius Vulso and
M. Atilius Regulus.
The great fleet of Rome met a still greater Carthaginian one at Ecnomus,
on the southern coast of Sicily, and here one of the greatest sea-fights
of history took place. In the end the Romans lost twenty-four ships,
while of those of the enemy thirty were sunk and sixty-four captured.
The remainder of the enemy's fleet fled in all haste to Carthage.
The Romans now prepared to take one of the greatest steps in their
history,--to cross the sea to the unknown African world. The soldiers
murmured loudly at this. They were to be taken to a new and strange
land, burnt by scorching heats and infested with noisome beasts and
monstrous serpents; and they were to be led into the very stronghold of
the enemy, where they would be at their mercy. Even one of their
tribunes supported the soldiers in this complaint. But Regulus was equal
to the occasion: he threatened the tribune with death, forced the
soldiers on board, and sailed for the African coast.
The event proved very different from what the soldiers had feared. The
army of Carthage was so miserably commanded that the Romans landed
without trouble and ravaged the country at their will; and instead of
the scorching heats and deadly animals they had feared, they found
themselves in a fertile and thickly-settled country, where grew rich
harvests of corn, and where were broad vineyards and fruitful orchards
of figs and olives. Towns were numerous, and villas of wealthy citizens
covered the hills.
On this rich and undefended country the hungry Roman army was let loose.
Villas were plundered and burnt, horses and cattle driven off in vast
numbers, and twenty thousand persons, many of them doubtless of wealth
and rank, were carried away to be sold as slaves. Meanwhile the army of
Carthage lurked on the hills, and was defeated wherever encountered.
Regulus, who had been left in sole command of the Roman army, overran
the country without opposition, and boasted that he had taken and
plundered more than three hundred walled towns or villages.
The Carthaginians, who were also attacked by roving desert tribes, who
proved even worse than the Romans, were in distress, and begged for
peace. But the terms offered by Regulus were so intolerable that it was
impossible to accept them. "Men who are good for anything should either
conquer or submit to their betters," said Regulus, haughtily. He had not
yet learned how unwise it is to drive a strong foe to desperation, and
was to pay dearly for his arrogance and pride.
The tide of war turned when Carthage obtained a general fit to command
an army. An officer who had been sent to Greece for soldiers of fortune
brought with him on his return a Spartan named Xanthippus, a man who had
been trained in the rigid Spartan discipline and had played his part
well in the wars of Greece. He openly and strongly condemned the conduct
of the generals of Carthage; and, on his words being reported to the
government, he was sent for, and so clearly pointed out the causes of
the late disasters that the direction of all the forces of Carthage was
placed in his hands.
And now a new spirit awakened in Carthage. Xanthippus reviewed the
troops, taught them how they should meet the Roman charge, and filled
them with such enthusiasm and hope that loud shouts broke from the
ranks, and they eagerly demanded to be led at once to battle.
The army numbered only twelve thousand foot, but had four thousand
cavalry and a hundred elephants, in which much confidence was placed.
The demand of the soldiers was complied with; they boldly marched out,
and now no longer to the hills, but to the lower ground, where the
devastation of the enemy was at once checked.
Regulus was forced to risk a battle, for his supply of food was in
peril. He marched out and encamped within a mile of the foe. The
Carthaginian generals, on seeing these hardy Roman legions, so long
victorious, were stricken with something like panic. But the soldiers
were eager to fight, and Xanthippus bade the wavering generals not to
lose so precious an opportunity. They yielded, and bade him to draw up
the army on his own plan.
In the battle that ensued the victory was due to the cavalry and
elephants. The cavalry drove that of Italy from the field, and attacked
the Roman rear. The elephants broke through the Roman lines in front,
furiously trampling the bravest underfoot. Those who penetrated the line
of the elephants were cut to pieces by the Carthaginian infantry. Of the
whole Roman army, two thousand of the left wing alone escaped; Regulus,
with five hundred others, fled, but was pursued and taken prisoner; the
remainder of the army was destroyed to a man. The defeat was total. Rome
retained but a single African port, which was soon given up. Xanthippus,
crowned with glory and richly rewarded, returned to Greece to enjoy the
fame he had won.
For five years Regulus remained a prisoner in Carthage, while the war
went on in Sicily. Here, in the year 250 B.C., the Romans gained an
important victory at Panormus (now Palermo), and Carthage, weary of the
struggle, sent to Rome to ask for terms of peace. With the ambassadors
came Regulus, who had promised to return to Carthage if the negotiations
should fail, and whom the Carthaginians naturally expected to use his
utmost influence in favor of peace.
They did not know their man. Regulus proved himself one of those
indomitable patriots of whom there are few examples in the ages. On
reaching the walls of Rome he refused at first to enter, saying that he
was no longer a citizen, and had lost his rights in that city. When the
ambassadors of Carthage had offered their proposal to the senate,
Regulus, who had remained silent, was ordered by the senate to give his
opinion of the proposed treaty. Thus commanded, he astonished all who
heard by strongly advising the senate not to make the treaty. He might
die for his words, he might perish in torture, but the good of his
country was dearer to him than his own life, and he would not counsel a
treaty that might prove of advantage to the enemy. He even spoke against
an exchange of prisoners, saying that he had not long to live, having,
he believed, been given a secret poison by his captors, and would not
make a fair exchange for a hale and hearty Carthaginian general.
Such an instance of self-abnegation has rarely been heard of in history.
It has made Regulus famous for all time. His advice was taken, the
treaty was refused; he, refusing to break his parole, or even to see his
family, returned to Carthage with the ambassadors, knowing that he was
going to his death. The rulers of that city, so it is said, furious
that the treaty had been rejected through his advice, resolved to
revenge themselves on him by horrible tortures. His eyelids were cut
off, and he was exposed to the full glare of the African sun. He was
then placed in a cask driven full of nails, and left there to die.
It is fortunate to be able to say that there is no historical warrant
for this story of torture, or for the companion story that the wife and
son of Regulus treated two Carthaginian prisoners in the same manner. We
have reason to believe that it is untrue, and that Regulus suffered no
worse tortures than those of shame, exile, and imprisonment.
_HANNIBAL CROSSES THE ALPS._
In the year 235 B.C. the gates of the Temple of Janus were closed, for
the first time since the reign of Numa Pompilius, the second king of
Rome, nearly five centuries before. During all that long period war had
hardly ever ceased in Rome. And these gates were soon to be thrown open
again, in consequence of the greatest war that the Roman state had ever
known, a war which was to bring it to the very brink of destruction.
The end of the first Punic War--as the war with Carthage was
called--left Rome master of the large island of Sicily, the first
province gained by that ambitious city outside of Italy. Advantage was
also taken of some home troubles in Carthage to rob that city of the
islands of Sardinia and Corsica,--a piece of open piracy which redoubled
the hatred of the Carthaginians.
Yet Rome just now was not anxious for war with her southern rival. There
was enough to do in the north, for another great invasion of Gauls was
threatened. And about this time the Capitol was struck by lightning, a
prodigy which plunged all Rome into terror. The books of the Sibyl were
hastily consulted, and were reported to say, "When the lightning shall
strike the Capitol and the Temple of Apollo, then must thou, O Roman,
beware of the Gauls." Another prophecy said that the time would come
"when the race of the Greeks and the race of the Gauls should occupy the
Forum of Rome."
But Rome had its own way of dealing with prophecies and discounting the
decrees of destiny. A man and woman alike of the Gaulish and of the
Greek race were buried alive in the Forum Boarium, and in this cruel way
the public fear was allayed. As for the invasion of the Gauls, Rome met
and dealt with them in its usual fashion, defeating them in two battles,
in the last of which the Gaulish army was annihilated. This ended this
peril, and the dominion of Rome was extended northward to the Alps.
It was fortunate for the Romans that they had just at this time rid
themselves of the Gauls, for they were soon to have a greater enemy to
meet. In the first Punic War, Carthage had been destitute of a
commander, and had only saved herself by borrowing one from Greece. In
the second war she had a general of her own, one who has hardly had his
equal before or since, the far-famed Hannibal, one of the few soldiers
of supreme ability which the world has produced.
During the peace which followed the first Punic War Carthage sent an
expedition to Spain, with the purpose of extending her dominions in that
land. This was under the leadership of Hamilcar, a soldier of much
ability. As he was about to set sail he offered a solemn sacrifice for
the success of the enterprise. Having poured the libation on the
victim, which was then duly offered on the altar, he requested all those
present to step aside, and called up his son Hannibal, at that time a
boy of but nine years of age. Hamilcar asked him if he would like to go
to the war. With a child's eagerness the boy implored his father to take
him. Then Hamilcar, taking the boy by the hand, led him up to the altar,
and bade him lay his hand on the sacrifice, and swear "that he would
never be the friend of the Romans." Hannibal took the oath, and he never
forgot it. His whole mature life was spent in warfare with Rome.
From the city of New Carthage (or Carthagena), founded by Carthage in
Spain, Hamilcar gradually won a wide dominion in that land. He was
killed in battle after nine years of success, and was succeeded by
Hasdrubal, another soldier of fine powers. On the death of Hasdrubal,
Hannibal, then twenty-six years of age, was made commander-in-chief of
the Carthaginian armies in Spain. Shortly afterwards his long struggle
with Rome began.
Hannibal had laid siege to and captured the city of Saguntum. The people
of Saguntum were allies of Rome. That city, being once more ready for
war with its rival, sent ambassadors to Carthage to demand that Hannibal
and his officers should be surrendered as Roman prisoners, for a breach
of the treaty of peace. After a long debate, Fabius, the Roman envoy,
gathered up his toga as if something was wrapped in it, and said, "Look;
here are peace and war; take which you choose." "Give whichever you
please," was the haughty Carthaginian reply. "Then we give you war,"
said Fabius, shaking out the folds of the toga. "With all our hearts we
welcome it," cried the Carthaginians. The Romans left at once for Rome.
Had they dreamed what a war it was they were inviting it is doubtful if
they would have been so hasty in seeking it.
War with Rome was what Hannibal most desired. He was pledged to
hostility with that faithless city, and had assailed Saguntum for the
purpose of bringing it about. On learning that war was declared, he
immediately prepared to invade Italy itself, leading his army across the
great mountain barrier of the Alps. He had already sent messengers to
the Gauls, to invite their aid. They were found to be friendly, and
eager for his coming. They had little reason to love Rome.
A significant dream strengthened Hannibal's purpose. In his vision he
seemed to see the supreme god of his fathers, who called him into the
presence of all the gods of Carthage, seated in council on their
thrones. They solemnly bade him to invade Italy, and one of the council
went with him into that land as guide. As they passed onward the divine
guide warned, "See that you look not behind you." But at length,
heedless of the command, the dreamer turned and looked back. He saw
behind him a monstrous form, covered thickly with serpents, while as it
moved houses, orchards, and woods fell crashing to the earth. "What
mighty thing is this?" he asked in wonder. "You see the desolation of
Italy," replied the heavenly guide; "go on your way, straight forward,
and cast no look behind." And thus, at the age of twenty-seven,
Hannibal, at the command of his country's gods, went forward to the
accomplishment of his early vow.
His route lay through northern Spain, where he conquered all before him.
Then he marched through Gaul to the Rhone. This he crossed in the face
of an army of hostile Gauls, who had gathered to oppose him. He had more
difficulty with his elephants, of which he had thirty-seven. Rafts were
built to convey these great beasts across the stream, but some of them,
frightened, leaped overboard and drowned their drivers. They then swam
across themselves, and all were safely landed.
[Illustration: HANNIBAL CROSSING THE ALPS.]
Other difficulties arose, but all were overcome, and at length the
mountains were reached. Here Hannibal was to perform the most famous of
his exploits, the crossing of the great chain of the Alps with an army,
an exploit more remarkable than that which brought similar fame to
Napoleon in our own days, for with Hannibal it was pioneer work, while
Napoleon profited by his example.
The mountaineers proved to be hostile, and gathered at all points that
commanded the narrow pass. But they left their posts at night, and
Hannibal, when nightfall came, set out with a body of light troops and
occupied all these posts. When morning dawned the natives, to their
dismay, found that they had been outgeneralled.
Soon after the day began the head of the army entered a dangerous
defile, and made its way in a long slender line along the terrace-like
path which overhung the valley far below. The route proved
comparatively easy for the foot-soldiers, but the cavalry and the
baggage-animals only made their way with great difficulty, finding
obstacles at almost every step.
The sight of the struggling cavalcade was too much for the caution of
the natives. Here was abundant plunder at their hands. From many points
of the mountain above the road they rushed down upon the Carthaginians,
arms in hand. A frightful disorder followed. So narrow was the path that
the least confusion was likely to throw the heavily-laden
baggage-animals down the precipitous steep. The cavalry horses, wounded
by the arrows and javelins of the mountaineers, plunged wildly about and
doubled the confusion.
It was fortunate for Hannibal that he had taken the precaution of the
night before. From the post he had taken with his light troops the whole
scene of peril and disorder was visible to his eyes. Charging down the
hill, he attacked the mountaineers and drove them from their prey. But
it was a dearly bought victory, for the fight on the narrow road
increased the confusion, and in seeking the relief of his army he caused
the destruction of many of his own men.
At length the perilous defile was safely passed, and the army reached a
wide and rich valley beyond. Here was the town of Montmelian, the
principal stronghold of the mountaineers. This Hannibal took by storm,
and recovered there many of his own men, horses, and cattle which the
natives had taken, while he found an abundant store of food for the use
of his weary soldiers.
After a day's rest here the march was resumed. During the next three
days the army moved up the valley of the river Isere without difficulty.
The natives met them with wreaths on their heads and branches in their
hands, promising peace, offering hostages, and supplying cattle.
Hannibal mistrusted the sudden friendliness of his late foes, but they
seemed so honest that he accepted some of them as guides through a
difficult region which he was now approaching.
He had reason for his mistrust, for they treacherously led him into a
narrow and dangerous defile, which might have easily been avoided; and
while the army was involved in this straitened pass an attack was
suddenly made by the whole force of the mountaineers. Climbing along the
mountain-sides above the defile, they hurled down stones on the
entangled foe, and loosened and rolled great rocks down upon their
defenceless heads.
Fortunately Hannibal, moved by his doubts, had sent his cavalry and
baggage on first. The attack fell on the infantry, and with a body of
these he forced his way to the summit of one of the cliffs above the
defile, drove away the foe, and held it while the army made its way
slowly on. As for the elephants, they were safe from attack. The very
sight of these huge beasts filled the barbarians with such terror that
they dared not even approach them. There was no further peril, and on
the ninth day of its march the army reached the summit of the Alps.
It was now the end of October. The grass and flowers which carpet that
elevated spot in summer had become replaced by snow. In truth, the
climate of the Alps was colder at that period than now, and snow lay on
the higher passes all through the year. The soldiers were disheartened
by cold and fatigue. The scene around them was desolate and dreary. New
perils awaited their onward course. But no such feeling entered
Hannibal's courageous soul. Fired by hope and ambition, he sought to
plant new courage in the hearts of his men.
"The valley you see yonder is Italy," he said, pointing to the sunny
slope which, from their elevated position, appeared not far away. "It
leads to the country of our friends, the Gauls; and yonder is our way to
Rome." Their eyes followed the direction of his pointing hand, and their
hearts grew hopeful again with the cheerfulness and enthusiasm of his
words.
Two days the army remained there, resting, and waiting for the
stragglers to come up. Then the route was resumed.
The mountaineers, severely punished, made no further attacks; but the
road proved more difficult than that by which the ascent had been made.
Snow thickly covered the passes. Men and horses often lost their way,
and plunged to their death down the precipitous steep. Onward struggled
the distressed host, through appalling dangers and endless difficulties,
losing men and animals at every step. But these troubles were trifling
compared with those which they were now to endure. They suddenly found
that the track before them had entirely disappeared. An avalanche had
carried it bodily away for about three hundred yards, leaving only a
steep and impassable slope covered with loose rocks and snow.
A man of less resolution than Hannibal might well have succumbed before
this supreme difficulty. The way forward had vanished. To go back was
death. It was impossible to climb round the lost path, for the heights
above were buried deep in snow. Nothing remained but to perish where
they were, or to make a new road across the mountain's flank.
The energetic commander lost not an hour in deciding. Moving back to a
space of somewhat greater breadth, the snow was removed and the army
encamped. Then the difficult engineering work began. Hands were
abundant, for every man was working for his life. Tools were improvised.
So energetically did the soldiers work that the road rapidly grew before
them. As it was cut into the rock it was supported by solid foundations
below. Many ancient authors say that Hannibal used vinegar to soften the
rocks, but this we have no sufficient reason to believe.
So vigorously did the work go on, so many were the hands engaged, that
in a single day a track was made over which the horses and
baggage-animals could pass. These were sent over and reached the lower
valley in safety, where pasture was found.
The passage of the elephants was a more difficult task. The road for
them must be solid and wide. It took three days of hard labor to make
it. Meanwhile the great beasts suffered severely from hunger, for
forage there was none, nor trees on whose leaves they might browse.
At length the road was strong enough to bear them. They safely passed
the perilous reach. After them came Hannibal with the rear of the army,
soon reaching the cavalry and baggage. Three days more the wearied host
struggled on, down the southward slopes of the Alps, until finally they
reached the wide plain of Northern Italy, having safely accomplished the
greatest military feat of ancient times.
But Hannibal found himself here with a frightfully reduced army. The
Alps had taken toll of their invader. He had reached Gaul from Spain
with fifty thousand foot and nine thousand horse. He reached Italy with
only twenty thousand foot and six thousand horse. No fewer than
thirty-three thousand men had perished by the way. It was a puny force
with which to invade a country that could oppose it with hundreds of
thousands of men. But it had Hannibal at its head.
_HOW HANNIBAL FOUGHT AND DIED._
The career of Hannibal was a remarkable one. For fifteen years he
remained in Italy, frequently fighting, never losing a battle, keeping
Rome in a state of terror, and dwelling with his army in comfort and
plenty on the rich Italian plains. Yet he represented a commercial city
against a warlike state. He was poorly supported by Carthage; Rome was
indomitable; great generals rose to command her armies; in the end the
mighty effort of Hannibal failed, and he was forced to leave Rome
unconquered and Italy unsubdued.
The story of his deeds is a long one, a record of war and bloodshed
which our readers would be little the wiser and none the better for
hearing. We shall therefore only give it in the barest outline.
Hannibal defeated the Romans on first meeting them, and the Gauls
flocked to his army. But of the elephants, which he had brought with
such difficulty over the Rhone and the Alps, the cold of December killed
all but one. But without them he met a large Roman army at Lake
Trasimenus, and defeated it so utterly that but six thousand escaped.