The exultation of the Carthaginians at the total destruction of their
enemies was immense, and Maharbal and some of the other leaders urged
Hannibal at once to march upon Rome; but Hannibal knew the spirit of
the Roman people, and felt that the capture of Rome, even after
the annihilation of its army, would be a greater task than he could
undertake. History has shown how desperate a defence may be made by
a population willing to die rather than surrender, and the Romans, an
essentially martial people, would defend their city until the last gasp.
They had an abundance of arms, and there were the two city legions,
which formed the regular garrison of the capital.
The instant the news of the defeat reached Rome, a levy of all males
over seventeen years of age was ordered, and this produced another ten
thousand men and a thousand cavalry. Eight thousand slaves who were
willing to serve were enlisted and armed, and four thousand criminals
and debtors were released from prison and pardoned, on the condition of
their taking up arms. The praetor Marcellus was at Ostia with the ten
thousand men with which he was about to embark for Sicily.
Thus Rome would be defended by forty-three thousand men, while Hannibal
had but thirty-three thousand infantry, and his cavalry, the strongest
arm of his force, would be useless. From Cannae to Rome was twelve days'
march with an army encumbered with booty. He could not, therefore, hope
for a surprise. The walls of Rome were exceedingly strong, and he had
with him none of the great machines which would have been necessary for
a siege. He must have carried with him the supplies he had accumulated
for the subsistence of his force, and when these were consumed he would
be destitute. Fresh Roman levies would gather on his rear, and before
long his whole army would be besieged.
In such an undertaking he would have wasted time, and lost the prestige
which he had acquired by his astonishing victory. Varro, who had escaped
from the battle, had rallied ten thousand of the fugitives at the strong
place of Canusium, and these would be a nucleus round which the rest of
those who had escaped would rally, and would be joined by fresh levies
of the Italian allies of Rome.
The Romans showed their confidence in their power to resist a siege by
at once despatching Marcellus with his ten thousand men to Canusium.
Thus, with a strongly defended city in front, an army of twenty thousand
Roman soldiers, which would speedily increase to double that number, in
his rear, Hannibal perceived that were he to undertake the siege of
Rome he would risk all the advantages he had gained. He determined,
therefore, to continue the policy which he had laid down for himself,
namely, to move his army to and fro among the provinces of Italy until
the allies of Rome one by one fell away from her, and joined him, or
until such reinforcements arrived from Carthage as would justify him in
undertaking the siege of Rome.
Rome herself was never grander than in this hour of defeat; not for
a moment was the courage and confidence of her citizens shaken. The
promptness with which she prepared for defence, and still more the
confidence which she showed by despatching Marcellus with his legion to
Canusium instead of retaining him for the defence of the city, show a
national spirit and manliness worthy of the highest admiration. Varro
was ordered to hand over his command to Marcellus, and to return to Rome
to answer before the senate for his conduct.
Varro doubted not that his sentence would be death, for the Romans,
like the Carthaginians, had but little mercy for a defeated general. His
colleague and his army had undoubtedly been sacrificed by his rashness.
Moreover, the senate was composed of his bitter political enemies, and
he could not hope that a lenient view would be taken of his conduct.
Nevertheless Varro returned to Rome and appeared before the senate. That
body nobly responded to the confidence manifested in it; party feeling
was suspended, the political adversary, the defeated general, were alike
forgotten, it was only remembered how Varro had rallied his troops, how
he had allayed the panic which prevailed among them, and had at once
restored order and discipline. His courage, too, in thus appearing,
after so great a disaster, to submit himself to the judgment of the
country, counted in his favour. His faults were condoned, and the senate
publicly thanked him, because he had not despaired of the commonwealth.
Hannibal, in pursuance of his policy to detach the allies of Italy from
Rome, dismissed all the Italian prisoners without ransom. The Roman
prisoners he offered to admit to ransom, and a deputation of them
accompanied an ambassador to offer terms of peace. The senate, however,
not only refused to discuss any terms of peace, but absolutely forbade
the families and friends of the prisoners to ransom them, thinking it
politic neither to enrich their adversary nor to show indulgence to
soldiers who had surrendered to the enemy.
The victory of Cannae and Hannibal's clemency began to bear the effects
which he hoped for. Apulia declared for him at once, and the towns
of Arpi and Celapia opened their gates to him; Bruttium, Lucania, and
Samnium were ready to follow. Mago with one division of the army was
sent into Bruttium to take possession of such towns as might submit.
Hanno was sent with another division to do the same in Lucania. Hannibal
himself marched into Samnium, and making an alliance with the tribes,
there stored his plunder, and proceeded into Campania, and entered
Capua, the second city of Italy, which concluded an alliance with him.
Mago embarked at one of the ports of Bruttium to carry the news of
Hannibal's success to Carthage, and to demand reinforcements.
Neither Rome nor Carthage had the complete mastery of the sea, and as
the disaster which had befallen Rome by land would greatly lessen
her power to maintain a large fleet, Carthage could now have poured
reinforcements in by the ports of Bruttium without difficulty. But
unfortunately Hannibal's bitterest enemies were to be found not in Italy
but in the senate of Carthage, where, in spite of the appeals of Mago
and the efforts of the patriotic party, the intrigues of Hanno and
his faction and the demands made by the war in Spain, prevented the
reinforcements from being forwarded which would have enabled him to
terminate the struggle by the conquest of Rome.
Hannibal, after receiving the submission of several other towns and
capturing Casilinum, went into winter quarters at Capua. During the
winter Rome made gigantic efforts to place her army upon a war footing,
and with such success that, excluding the army of Scipio in Spain,
she had, when the spring began, twelve legions or a hundred and twenty
thousand men again under arms; and as no reinforcements, save some
elephants and a small body of cavalry, ever reached Hannibal from
Carthage, he was, during the remaining thirteen years of the war,
reduced to stand wholly on the defensive, protecting his allies,
harassing his enemy, and feeding his own army at their expense; and yet
so great was the dread which his genius had excited that, in spite of
their superior numbers, the Romans after Cannae never ventured again to
engage him in a pitched battle.
Soon after the winter set in Hannibal ordered Malchus to take a number
of officers and a hundred picked men, and to cross from Capua to
Sardinia, where the inhabitants had revolted against Rome, and were
harassing the praetor, Quintus Mucius, who commanded the legion which
formed the garrison of the island. Malchus and the officers under him
were charged with the duty of organizing the wild peasantry of the
island, and of drilling them in regular tactics; for unless acting
as bodies of regular troops, however much they might harass the Roman
legion, they could not hope to expel them from their country. Nessus of
course accompanied Malchus.
The party embarked in two of the Capuan galleys. They had not been many
hours at sea when the weather, which had when they started been fine,
changed suddenly, and ere long one of the fierce gales which are so
frequent in the Mediterranean burst upon them. The wind was behind them,
and there was nothing to do but to let the galleys run before it. The
sea got up with great rapidity, and nothing but the high poops at their
stern prevented the two galleys being sunk by the great waves which
followed them. The oars were laid in, for it was impossible to use them
in such a sea.
As night came on the gale increased rather than diminished. The
Carthaginian officers and soldiers remained calm and quiet in the storm,
but the Capuan sailors gave themselves up to despair, and the men at the
helm were only kept at their post by Malchus threatening to have them
thrown overboard instantly if they abandoned it. After nightfall he
assembled the officers in the cabin in the poop.
“The prospects are bad,” he said. “The pilot tells me that unless the
gale abates or the wind changes we shall, before morning, be thrown upon
the coast of Sardinia, and that will be total destruction; for upon the
side facing Italy the cliffs, for the most part, rise straight up from
the water, the only port on that side being that at which the Romans
have their chief castle and garrison. He tells me there is nothing to be
done, and I see nought myself. Were we to try to bring the galley round
to the wind she would be swamped in a moment, while even if we could
carry out the operation, it would be impossible to row in the teeth of
this sea. Therefore, my friends, there is nothing for us to do save
to keep up the courage of the men, and to bid them hold themselves in
readiness to seize upon any chance of getting to shore should the vessel
strike.”
All night the galley swept on before the storm. The light on the other
boat had disappeared soon after darkness had set in. Half the soldiers
and crew by turns were kept at work baling out the water which found its
way over the sides, and several times so heavily did the seas break into
her that all thought that she was lost. However, when morning broke she
was still afloat. The wind had hardly shifted a point since it had begun
to blow, and the pilot told Malchus that they must be very near to the
coast of Sardinia. As the light brightened every eye was fixed ahead
over the waste of angry foaming water. Presently the pilot, who was
standing next to Malchus, grasped his arm.
“There is the land,” he cried, “dead before us.”
Not until a few minutes later could Malchus make out the faint outline
through the driving mist. It was a lofty pile of rock standing by
itself.
“It is an island!” he exclaimed.
“It is Caralis,” the pilot replied; “I know its outline well; we are
already in the bay. Look to the right, you can make out the outline of
the cliffs at its mouth, we have passed it already. You do not see the
shore ahead because the rock on which Caralis stands rises from a level
plain, and to the left a lagoon extends for a long way in; it is there
that the Roman galleys ride. The gods have brought us to the only spot
along the coast where we could approach it with a hope of safety.”
“There is not much to rejoice at,” Malchus said; “we may escape the sea,
but only to be made prisoners by the Romans.”
“Nay, Malchus, the alternative is not so bad,” a young officer who was
standing next to him said. “Hannibal has thousands of Roman prisoners in
his hands, and we may well hope to be exchanged. After the last twelve
hours any place on shore, even a Roman prison, is an elysium compared to
the sea.”
The outline of the coast was now clearly visible. The great rock of
Caralis, now known as Cagliari, rose dark and threatening, the low
shores of the bay on either side were marked by a band of white foam,
while to the left of the rock was the broad lagoon, dotted with the
black hulls of a number of ships and galleys rolling and tossing
heavily, for as the wind blew straight into the bay the lagoon was
covered with short, angry waves.
The pilot now ordered the oars to be got out. The entrance to the lagoon
was wide, but it was only in the middle that the channel was deep, and
on either side of this long breakwaters of stone were run out from the
shore, to afford a shelter to the shipping within. The sea was so rough
that it was found impossible to use the oars, and they were again
laid in and a small sail was hoisted. This enabled the head to be laid
towards the entrance of the lagoon. For a time it was doubtful whether
the galley could make it, but she succeeded in doing so, and then ran
straight on towards the upper end of the harbour.
“That is far enough,” the pilot said presently; “the water shoals fast
beyond. We must anchor here.”
The sail was lowered, the oars got out on one side, and the head of the
galley brought to the wind. The anchor was then dropped. As the storm
beaten galley ran right up the lagoon she had been viewed with curiosity
and interest by those who were on board the ships at anchor. That she
was an Italian galley was clear, and also that she was crowded with men,
but no suspicion was entertained that these were Carthaginians.
The anchor once cast Malchus held a council with the other officers.
They were in the midst of foes, and escape seemed altogether impossible.
Long before the gale abated sufficiently to permit them to put to sea
again, they would be visited by boats from the other vessels to ask who
they were and whence they came. As to fighting their way out it was out
of the question, for there were a score of triremes in the bay, any
one of which could crush the Capuan galley, and whose far greater speed
rendered the idea of flight as hopeless as that of resistance. The
council therefore agreed unanimously that the only thing to be done was
to surrender without resistance.
The storm continued for another twenty-four hours, then the wind died
out almost as suddenly as it began.
As soon as the sea began to abate two galleys were seen putting out from
the town, and these rowed directly towards the ship. The fact that she
had shown no flag had no doubt excited suspicion in the minds of the
garrison. Each galley contained fifty soldiers. As they rowed alongside
a Roman officer on the poop of one of the galleys hailed the ship, and
demanded whence it came.
“We are from Capua,” the pilot answered. “The gale has blown us across
thence. I have on board fifty Carthaginian officers and soldiers, who
now surrender to you.”
As in those days, when vessels could with difficulty keep the sea in a
storm, and in the event of a gale springing up were forced to run before
it, it was by no means unusual for galleys to be blown into hostile
ports, the announcement excited no great surprise.
“Who commands the party?” the Roman officer asked.
“I do,” Malchus replied. “I am Malchus, the son of Hamilcar, who was
killed at the Trebia, a cousin of Hannibal and captain of his guard. I
surrender with my followers, seeing that resistance is hopeless.”
“It is hopeless,” the Roman replied, “and you are right not to throw
away the lives of your men when there is no possibility of resistance.”
As he spoke he stepped on board, ordered the anchor to be weighed, and
the galley, accompanied by the two Roman boats, was rowed to the landing
place. A messenger was at once sent up to Mucius to tell him what had
happened, and the praetor himself soon appeared upon the spot. The
officer acquainted him with the name and rank of the leader of the
Carthaginian party, and said that there were with him two officers of
noble families of the Carthaginians.
“That is well,” the praetor said, “it is a piece of good fortune. The
Carthaginians have so many of our officers in their hands, that it is
well to have some whom we may exchange for them. Let them be landed.”
As they left the ship the Carthaginians laid down their arms and armour.
By this time a large number of the Roman garrison, among whom the
news had rapidly spread, were assembled at the port. Many of the
young soldiers had never yet seen a Carthaginian, and they looked
with curiosity and interest at the men who had inflicted such terrible
defeats upon the armies of the Romans. They were fine specimens of
Hannibal's force, for the general had allowed Malchus to choose his own
officers and men, and, knowing that strength, agility, and endurance
would be needed for a campaign in so mountainous a country as Sardinia,
he had picked both officers and men with great care.
His second in command was his friend Trebon, who had long since obtained
a separate command, but who, on hearing from Malchus of the expedition
on which he was bound, had volunteered to accompany him. The men were
all Africans accustomed to desert fighting and trained in warfare in
Spain. The Romans, good judges of physical strength, could not repress
a murmur of admiration at the sight of these sinewy figures. Less
heavy than themselves, there was about them a spring and an elasticity
resembling that of the tiger. Long use had hardened their muscles until
they stood up like cords through their tawny skin, most of them bore
numerous scars of wounds received in battle, and the Romans, as they
viewed them, acknowledged to themselves what formidable opponents these
men would be.
A strong guard formed up on either side of the captives, and they were
marched through the town to the citadel on the upper part of the rock.
Here a large chamber, opening on to the courtyard, was assigned to the
officers, while the men, who were viewed in the light of slaves, were at
once set to work to carry stores up to the citadel from a ship which had
arrived just as the storm broke.
A fortnight later a vessel arrived from Rome with a message from
the senate that they would not exchange prisoners, and that the
Carthaginians were at once to be employed as slaves in the mines. The
governor acquainted Malchus with the decision.
“I am sorry,” he said, “indeed, that it is so; but the senate are
determined that they will exchange no prisoners. Of course their view
of the matter is, that when a Roman lays down his arms he disgraces
himself, and the refusal to ransom him or allow him to be exchanged is
intended to act as a deterrent to others. This may be fair enough in
cases where large numbers surrender to a few, or where they lay down
their arms when with courage and determination they might have cut their
way through the enemy; but in cases where further resistance would be
hopeless, in my mind men are justified in surrendering. However, I can
only obey the orders I have received, and tomorrow must send you and
your men to the mines.”
As Malchus had seen the Iberian captives sent to labour as slaves in the
mines in Spain, the fate thus announced to him did not appear surprising
or barbarous. In those days captives taken in war were always made
slaves when they were not put to death in cold blood, and although
Hannibal had treated with marked humanity and leniency the Roman and
Italian captives who had fallen into his hands, this had been the result
of policy, and was by no means in accordance with the spirit in which
war was then conducted. Accordingly, the next day the Carthaginians
were, under a strong guard, marched away to the mines, which lay on the
other side of the island, some forty miles due west of the port, and
three miles from the western sea coast of the island. The road lay for
some distance across a dead flat. The country was well cultivated and
thickly studded with villages, for Rome drew a heavy tribute in corn
annually from the island.
After twenty miles' march they halted for the night, pursuing their way
on the following morning. They had now entered a wide and fertile valley
with lofty hills on either side. In some places there were stagnant
marshes, and the officer in charge of the guard informed Malchus that in
the autumn a pestilential miasma rose from these, rendering a sojourn in
the valley fatal to the inhabitants of the mainland. The native people
were wild and primitive in appearance, being clad chiefly in sheepskins.
They lived in beehive shaped huts. The hills narrowed in towards the
end of the day's march, and the valley terminated when the party arrived
within half a mile of their destination. Here stood a small town named
Metalla, with a strong Roman garrison, which supplied guards over the
slaves employed in working the mines. This town is now called Iglesias.
The principal mine was situated in a narrow valley running west from the
town down to the sea coast. The officer in command of the escort handed
over Malchus and his companions to the charge of the officer at the head
mining establishment.
Malchus was surprised at the large number of people gathered at the
spot. They lived for the most part in low huts constructed of boughs or
sods, and ranged in lines at the bottom of the valley or along the lower
slopes of the hill. A cordon of Roman sentries was placed along the
crest of the hill at either side, and a strong guard was posted in a
little camp in the centre of the valley, in readiness to put down any
tumult which might arise.
The great majority of the slaves gathered there were Sards, men
belonging to tribes which had risen in insurrection against the Romans.
There were with them others of their countrymen who were not like them
slaves, though their condition was but little better except that they
received a nominal rate of payment. These were called free labourers,
but their labour was as much forced as was that of the slaves--each
district in the island being compelled to furnish a certain amount
of labourers for this or the mines further to the north. The men so
conscripted were changed once in six months. With the Sards were mingled
people of many nations. Here were Sicilians and members of many Italian
tribes conquered by the Romans, together with Gauls from the northern
plains and from Marseilles.
There were many mines worked in different parts of the island, but
Metalla was the principal. The labour, in days when gunpowder had not
become the servant of man, was extremely hard. The rocks had to be
pierced with hand labour, the passages and galleries were of the
smallest possible dimensions, the atmosphere was stifling; consequently
the mortality was great, and it was necessary to keep up a constant
importation of labour.
“If these people did but possess a particle of courage,” Trebon said,
“they would rise, overpower the guard, and make for the forests. The
whole island is, as the officer who brought us here told us, covered
with mountains with the exception of the two broad plains running
through it; as we could see the hills are covered with woods, and the
whole Roman army could not find them if they once escaped.”
“That is true enough,” Malchus said, “but there must be at least five or
six thousand slaves here. How could these find food among the mountains?
They might exist for a time upon berries and grain, but they would in
the end be forced to go into the valleys for food, and would then be
slaughtered by the Romans. Nevertheless a small body of men could no
doubt subsist among the hills, and the strength of the guard you see on
the heights shows that attempts to escape are not rare. Should we find
our existence intolerable here, we will at any rate try to escape. There
are fifty of us, and if we agreed in common action we could certainly
break through the guards and take to the hills. As you may see by their
faces, the spirit of these slaves is broken. See how bent most of them
are by their labour, and how their shoulders are wealed by the lashes of
their taskmasters!”
The officer in charge of the mines told Malchus that he should not put
him and the other two officers to labour, but would appoint them as
overseers over gangs of the men, informing them that he had a brother
who was at present a captive in the hands of Hannibal; and he trusted
that Malchus, should he have an opportunity, would use his kind offices
on his behalf.
One of the lines of huts near the Roman camp was assigned to the
Carthaginians, and that evening they received rations of almost black
bread similar to those served out to the others. The following morning
they were set to work. Malchus and his two friends found their tasks by
no means labourious, as they were appointed to look after a number of
Sards employed in breaking up and sorting the lead ore as it was brought
up from the mine. The men, however, returned in the evening worn out
with toil. All had been at work in the mines. Some had had to crawl long
distances through passages little more than three feet high and one foot
wide, until they reached the broad lode of lead ore.
Here some of the party had been set to work, others had been employed in
pushing on the little galleries, and there had sat for hours working
in a cramped position, with pick, hammer, and wedge. Others had been
lowered by ropes down shafts so narrow that when they got to the bottom
it was only with extreme difficulty that they were able to stoop to work
at the rock beneath their feet. Many, indeed, of these old shafts have
been found in the mines of Montepone, so extremely narrow that it is
supposed that they must have been bored by slaves lowered by ropes, head
foremost, it appearing absolutely impossible for a man to stoop to work
if lowered in the ordinary way.
The Carthaginians, altogether unaccustomed to work of this nature,
returned to their huts at night utterly exhausted, cramped, and aching
in every limb. Many had been cruelly beaten for not performing the tasks
assigned to them. All were filled with a dull despairing rage. In the
evening a ration of boiled beans, with a little native wine, was served
out to each, the quantity of the food being ample, it being necessary to
feed the slaves well to enable them to support their fatigues.
After three days of this work five or six of the captives were so
exhausted that they were unable to take their places with the gang when
ordered for work in the morning. They were, however, compelled by blows
to rise and take their places with the rest. Two of them died during the
course of the day in their stifling working places; another succumbed
during the night; several, too, were attacked by the fever of the
country. Malchus and his friends were full of grief and rage at the
sufferings of their men.
“Anything were better than this,” Malchus said. “A thousand times better
to fall beneath the swords of the Romans than to die like dogs in the
holes beneath that hill!”
“I quite agree with you, Malchus,” Halco, the other officer with the
party, said, “and am ready to join you in any plan of escape, however
desperate.”
“The difficulty is about arms,” Trebon observed. “We are so closely
watched that it is out of the question to hope that we should succeed in
getting possession of any. The tools are all left in the mines; and as
the men work naked, there is no possibility of their secreting any.
The stores here are always guarded by a sentry; and although we might
overpower him, the guard would arrive long before we could break through
the solid doors. Of course if we could get the other slaves to join us,
we might crush the guard even with stones.”
“That is out of the question,” Malchus said. “In the first place, they
speak a strange language, quite different to the Italians. Then, were
we seen trying to converse with any of them, suspicions might be roused;
and even could we get the majority to join us, there would be many who
would be only too glad to purchase their own freedom by betraying the
plot to the Romans. No, whatever we do must be done by ourselves alone;
and for arms we must rely upon stones, and upon the stoutest stakes we
can draw out from our huts. The only time that we have free to ourselves
is the hour after work is over, when we are allowed to go down to the
stream to wash and to stroll about as we will until the trumpet sounds
to order us to retire to our huts for the night.
“It is true that at that time the guards are particularly vigilant, and
that we are not allowed to gather into knots; and an Italian slave I
spoke to yesterday told me that he dared not speak to me, for the place
swarms with spies, and that any conversation between us would be sure
to be reported, and those engaged in it put to the hardest and cruelest
work. I propose, therefore, that tomorrow--for if it is to be done, the
sooner the better, before the men lose all their strength--the men shall
on their return from work at once eat their rations; then each man,
hiding a short stick under his garment and wrapping a few heavy stones
in the corner of his robe, shall make his way up towards the top of the
hill above the mine.
“No two men must go together--all must wander as if aimlessly among the
huts. When they reach the upper line on that side and see me, let all
rapidly close up, and we will make a sudden rush at the sentries above.
They cannot get more than five or six together in time to oppose us, and
we shall be able to beat them down with our stones. Once through them,
the heavy armed men will never be able to overtake us till we reach the
forest, which begins, I believe, about half a mile beyond the top.”
The other two officers at once agreed to the plan; and when the camp was
still Malchus crept cautiously from hut to hut, telling his men of the
plan that had been formed and giving orders for the carrying of it out.
All assented cheerfully; for although the stronger were now becoming
accustomed to their work, and felt less exhausted than they had done the
first two days, there was not one but felt that he would rather suffer
death than endure this terrible fate. Malchus impressed upon them
strongly that it was of the utmost consequence to possess themselves of
the arms of any Roman soldiers they might overthrow, as they would to
a great extent be compelled to rely upon these to obtain food among the
mountains.
Even the men who were most exhausted, and those stricken with fever,
seemed to gain strength at once at the prospect of a struggle for
liberty, and when the gang turned out in the morning for work none
lagged behind.