The Carthaginians returned in the evening in groups from the various
scenes of their labour and without delay consumed the provisions
provided for them. Then one by one they sauntered away down towards
the stream. Malchus was the last to leave, and having seen that all his
followers had preceded him, he, too, crossed the stream, paused a moment
at a heap of debris from the mine, and picking up three or four pieces
of rock about the size of his fist, rolled them in the corner of his
garment, and holding this in one hand moved up the hill.
Here and there he paused a moment as if interested in watching the
groups of slaves eating their evening meal, until at last he reached the
upper line of little huts. Between these and the hill top upon which
the sentries stood was a distance of about fifty yards, which was kept
scrupulously clear to enable them to watch the movements of any man
going beyond the huts. The sentries were some thirty paces apart, so
that, as Malchus calculated, not more than four or five of them could
assemble before he reached them, if they did not previously perceive
anything suspicious which might put them on the alert.
Looking round him Malchus saw his followers scattered about among the
slaves at a short distance. Standing behind the shelter of the hut he
raised his hand, and all began to move towards him. As there was nothing
in their attire, which consisted of one long cloth wound round them,
to distinguish them from the other slaves, the movement attracted no
attention from the sentries, who were, from their position, able to
overlook the low huts.
When he saw that all were close, Malchus gave a shout and dashed up the
hill, followed by his comrades.
The nearest sentry, seeing a body of fifty men suddenly rushing towards
him, raised a shout, and his comrades from either side ran towards him;
but so quickly was the movement performed that but five had gathered
when the Carthaginians reached them, although many others were running
towards the spot. The Carthaginians, when they came close to their
levelled spears, poured upon them a shower of heavy stones, which
knocked two of them down and so bruised and battered the others that
they went down at once when the Carthaginians burst upon them.
The nearest Romans halted to await the arrival of their comrades coming
up behind them, and the Carthaginians, seizing the swords, spears, and
shields of their fallen foes, dashed on at full speed. The Romans soon
followed, but with the weight of their weapons, armour, and helmets
they were speedily distanced, and the fugitives reached the edge of the
forest in safety and dashed into its recesses.
After running for some distance they halted, knowing that the Romans
would not think of pursuing except with a large force. The forests which
covered the mountains of Sardinia were for the most part composed of
evergreen oak, with, in some places, a thick undergrowth of shrubs and
young trees. Through this the Carthaginians made their way with some
difficulty, until, just as it became dark, they reached the bottom of a
valley comparatively free of trees and through which ran a clear stream.
“Here we will halt for the night,” Malchus said; “there is no fear of
the Romans pursuing at once, if indeed they do so at all, for their
chance of finding us in these mountains, covered with hundreds of square
miles of forests, is slight indeed; however, we will at once provide
ourselves with weapons.”
The five Roman swords were put into requisition, and some straight
young saplings were felled, and their points being sharpened they were
converted into efficient spears, each some fourteen feet long.
“It is well we have supped,” Malchus said; “our breakfast will depend
on ourselves. Tomorrow we must keep a sharp lookout for smoke rising
through the trees; there are sure to be numbers of charcoal burners in
the forest, for upon them the Romans depend for their fuel. One of the
first things to do is to obtain a couple of lighted brands. A fire is
essential for warmth among these hills, even putting aside its uses for
cooking.”
“That is when we have anything to cook,” Halco said laughingly.
“That is certainly essential,” Malchus agreed; “but there is sure to be
plenty of wild boar and deer among these forests. We have only to find a
valley with a narrow entrance, and post ourselves there and send all the
men to form a circle on the hills around it and drive them down to us;
besides, most likely we shall come across herds of goats and pigs, which
the villagers in the lower valleys will send up to feed on the acorns. I
have no fear but we shall be able to obtain plenty of flesh; as to corn,
we have only to make a raid down into the plain, and when we have found
out something about the general lay of the country, the hills and the
extent of the forest, we will choose some spot near its centre and
erect huts there. If it were not for the peasants we might live here
for years, for all the Roman forces in Sardinia would be insufficient to
rout us out of these mountains; but unfortunately, as we shall have to
rob the peasants, they will act as guides to the Romans, and we shall be
obliged to keep a sharp lookout against surprise. If it gets too hot for
us we must make a night march across the plain to the mountains on the
eastern side. I heard at Caralis that the wild part there is very much
larger than it is on this side of the island, and it extends without a
break from the port right up to the north of the island.”
Safe as he felt from pursuit Malchus posted four men as sentries, and
the rest of the band lay down to sleep, rejoicing in the thought that on
the morrow they should not be wakened to take their share in the labours
in the mine.
At daybreak all were on the move, and a deep spot having been found
in the stream, they indulged in the luxury of a bath. That done they
started on the march further into the heart of the forest. The hills
were of great height, with bare crags often beetling up among the trees
hundreds of feet, with deep valleys and rugged precipices. In crossing
one of these valleys Nessus suddenly lifted his hand.
“What is it?” Malchus asked.
“I heard a pig grunt,” Nessus replied, “on our right there.”
Malchus at once divided the band in two and told them to proceed as
quietly as possible along the lower slopes of the hill, leaving a man at
every fifteen paces.
When all had been posted, the ends of the line were to descend until
they met in the middle of the valley, thus forming a circle. A shout
was to tell the rest that this was done, and then all were to move down
until they met in the centre. One officer went with each party, Malchus
remained at the spot where he was standing. In ten minutes the signal
was heard, and then all moved forward, shouting as they went, and
keeping a sharp lookout between the trees to see that nothing passed
them. As the narrowing circle issued into the open ground at the bottom
of the valley there was a general shout of delight, for, huddled down
by a stream, grunting and screaming with fright, was a herd of forty
or fifty pigs, with a peasant, who appeared stupefied with alarm at the
sudden uproar.
On seeing the men burst out with their levelled spears from the wood,
the Sard gave a scream of terror and threw himself upon his face. When
the Carthaginians came up to him Malchus stirred him with his foot, but
he refused to move; he then pricked him with the Roman spear he held,
and the man leaped to his feet with a shout. Malchus told him in Italian
that he was free to go, but that the swine must be confiscated for the
use of his followers. The man did not understand his words, but, seeing
by his gestures that he was free to go, set off at the top of his speed,
hardly believing that he could have escaped with his life, and in no
way concerned at the loss of the herd. This was, indeed, the property of
various individuals in one of the villages at the foot of the hills--it
being then, as now, the custom for several men owning swine to send them
together under the charge of a herdsman into the mountains, where for
months together they live in a half wild state on acorns and roots, a
villager going up occasionally with supplies of food for the swineherd.
No sooner had the peasant disappeared than a shout from one of the men
some fifty yards away called the attention of Malchus.
“Here is the man's fire, my lord.”
A joyous exclamation rose from the soldiers, for, the thought of all
this meat and no means of cooking it was tantalizing every one. Malchus
hurried to the spot, where, indeed, was a heap of still glowing embers.
Some of the men at once set to work to collect dried sticks, and in a
few minutes a great fire was blazing. One of the pigs was slaughtered
and cut up into rations, and in a short time each man was cooking his
portion stuck on a stick over the fire.
A smaller fire was lit for the use of the officers a short distance
away, and here Nessus prepared their share of the food for Malchus
and his two companions. After the meal the spears were improved by the
points being hardened in the fire. When they were in readiness to march
two of the men were told off as fire keepers, and each of these took two
blazing brands from the fire, which, as they walked, they kept crossed
before them, the burning points keeping each other alight. Even with one
man there would be little chance of losing the fire, but with two such a
misfortune could scarcely befall them.
A party of ten men took charge of the herd of swine, and the whole
then started for the point they intended to make to in the heart of
the mountains. Before the end of the day a suitable camping place was
selected in a watered valley. The men then set to work to cut down
boughs and erect arbours. Fires were lighted and another pig being
killed those who preferred it roasted his flesh over the fire, while
others boiled their portions, the Roman shields being utilized as pans.
“What do you think of doing, Malchus?” Halco asked as they stretched
themselves out on a grassy bank by the stream when they had finished
their meal. “We are safe here, and in these forests could defy the
Romans to find us for months. Food we can get from the villages at the
foot of the hills, and there must be many swine in the forest beside
this herd which we have captured. The life will not be an unpleasant
one, but--” and he stopped.
“But you don't wish to end your days here,” Malchus put in for him, “nor
do I. It is pleasant enough, but every day we spend here is a waste of
our lives, and with Hannibal and our comrades combating the might of
Rome we cannot be content to live like members of the savage tribes
here. I have no doubt that we shall excite such annoyance and alarm by
our raids among the villages in the plains that the Romans will ere long
make a great effort to capture us, and doubtless they will enlist the
natives in their search. Still, we may hope to escape them, and there
are abundant points among these mountains where we may make a stand
and inflict such heavy loss upon them that they will be glad to come to
terms. All I would ask is that they shall swear by their gods to treat
us well and to convey us as prisoners of war to Rome, there to remain
until exchanged. In Rome we could await the course of events patiently.
Hannibal may capture the city. The senate, urged by the relatives of the
many prisoners we have taken, may agree to make an exchange, and we may
see chances of our making our escape. At any rate we shall be in the
world and shall know what is going on.”
“But could we not hold out and make them agree to give us our freedom?”
“I do not think so,” Malchus said. “It would be too much for Roman pride
to allow a handful of escaped prisoners to defy them in that way, and
even if the prefect of this island were to agree to the terms, I do not
believe that the senate would ratify them. We had better not ask too
much. For myself I own to a longing to see Rome. As Carthage holds
back and will send no aid to Hannibal, I have very little hope of ever
entering it as a conqueror, and rather than not see it at all I would
not mind entering it as a prisoner. There are no mines to work there,
and the Romans, with so vast a number of their own people in the hands
of Hannibal, would not dare to treat us with any cruelty or severity.
“Here it is different. No rumour of our fate will ever reach Hannibal,
and had every one of us died in those stifling mines he would never have
been the wiser.”
The two officers both agreed with Malchus; as for the soldiers, they
were all too well pleased with their present liberty and their escape
from the bondage to give a thought to the morrow.
The next day Malchus and his companions explored the hills of the
neighbourhood, and chose several points commanding the valleys by which
their camp could be approached, as lookout places. Trees were cleared
away, vistas cut, and wood piled in readiness for making bonfires, and
two sentries were placed at each of these posts, their orders being to
keep a vigilant lookout all over the country, to light a fire instantly
the approach of any enemy was perceived, and then to descend to the camp
to give particulars as to his number and the direction of his march.
A few days later, leaving ten men at the camp with full instructions as
to what to do in case of an alarm by the enemy, Malchus set out with the
rest of the party across the mountains. The sun was their only guide
as to the direction of their course, and it was late in the afternoon
before they reached the crest of the easternmost hills and looked down
over the wide plain which divides the island into two portions. Here
they rested until the next morning, and then, starting before daybreak,
descended the slopes. They made their way to a village of some size at
the mouth of a valley, and were unnoticed until they entered it. Most
of the men were away in the fields; a few resisted, but were speedily
beaten down by the short heavy sticks which the Carthaginians carried in
addition to their spears.
Malchus had given strict orders that the latter weapons were not to be
used, that no life was to be taken, and that no one was to be hurt or
ill used unless in the act of offering resistance. For a few minutes the
confusion was great, women and children running about screaming in wild
alarm. They were, however, pacified when they found that no harm was
intended.
On searching the village large stores of grain were discovered and
abundance of sacks were also found, and each soldier filled one of these
with as much grain as he could conveniently carry. A number of other
articles which would be useful to them were also taken--cooking pots,
wooden platters, knives, and such arms as could be found. Laden with
these the Carthaginians set out on their return to camp. Loaded as they
were it was a long and toilsome journey, and they would have had
great difficulty in finding their way back had not Malchus taken
the precaution of leaving four or five men at different points with
instructions to keep fires of damp wood burning so that the smoke should
act as a guide. It was, however, late on the second day after their
leaving the village before they arrived in camp. Here the men set to
work to crush the grain between flat stones, and soon a supply of rough
cakes were baking in the embers.
A month passed away. Similar raids to the first were made when the
supplies became exhausted, and as at the second village they visited
they captured six donkeys, which helped to carry up the burdens, the
journeys were less fatiguing than on the first occasion. One morning as
the troop were taking their breakfast a column of bright smoke rose from
one of the hill tops. The men simultaneously leaped to their feet.
“Finish your breakfast,” Malchus said, “there will be plenty of time.
Slay two more hogs and cut them up. Let each man take three or four
pounds of flesh and a supply of meal.”
Just as the preparations were concluded the two men from the lookout
arrived and reported that a large force was winding along one of the
valleys. There were now but six of the herd of swine left--these were
driven into the forest. The grain and other stores were also carried
away and carefully hidden, and the band, who were now all well armed
with weapons taken in the different raids on the villages, marched away
from their camp.
Malchus had already with his two comrades explored all the valleys in
the neighbourhood of the camp, and had fixed upon various points
for defence. One of these was on the line by which the enemy were
approaching. The valley narrowed in until it was almost closed
by perpendicular rocks on either side. On the summit of these the
Carthaginians took their post. They could now clearly make out the
enemy; there were upwards of a thousand Roman troops, and they were
accompanied by fully five hundred natives.
When the head of the column approached the narrow path of the valley
the soldiers halted and the natives went on ahead to reconnoitre. They
reported that all seemed clear, and the column then moved forward. When
it reached the gorge a shout was heard above and a shower of rocks fell
from the crags, crushing many of the Romans. Their commander at once
recalled the soldiers, and these then began to climb the hillside,
wherever the ground permitted their doing so. After much labour they
reached the crag from which they had been assailed, but found it
deserted.
All day the Romans searched the woods, but without success. The
natives were sent forward in strong parties. Most of these returned
unsuccessful, but two of them were suddenly attacked by the
Carthaginians, and many were slaughtered.
For four days the Romans pursued their search in the forest, but never
once did they obtain a glimpse of the Carthaginians save when, on
several occasions, the latter appeared suddenly in places inaccessible
from below and hurled down rocks and stones upon them. The Sards had
been attacked several times, and were so disheartened by the losses
inflicted upon them that they now refused to stir into the woods unless
accompanied by the Romans.
At the end of the fourth day, feeling it hopeless any longer to pursue
the fugitive band over these forest covered mountains, the Roman
commander ordered the column to move back towards its starting place. He
had lost between forty and fifty of his men and upwards of a hundred of
the Sards had been killed. Just as he reached the edge of the forest he
was overtaken by one of the natives.
“I have been a prisoner in the hands of the Carthaginians,” the man
said, “and their leader released me upon my taking an oath to deliver a
message to the general.” The man was at once brought before the officer.
“The leader of the escaped slaves bids me tell you,” he said, “that had
you ten times as many men with you it would be vain for you to attempt
to capture them. You searched, in these four days, but a few square
miles of the forest, and, although he was never half a mile away from
you, you did not succeed in capturing him. There are hundreds of square
miles, and, did he choose to elude you, twenty thousand men might search
in vain. He bids me say that he could hold out for years and harry all
the villages of the plains; but he and his men do not care for living
the life of a mountain tribe, and he is ready to discuss terms of
surrender with you, and will meet you outside the forest here with two
men with him if you on your part will be here with the same number at
noon tomorrow. He took before me a solemn oath that he will keep the
truce inviolate, and requires you to do the same. I have promised to
take back your answer.”
The Roman commander was greatly vexed at his non-success, and at the
long continued trouble which he saw would arise from the presence of
this determined band in the mountains. They would probably be joined by
some of the recently subdued tribes, and would be a thorn in the side of
the Roman force holding the island. He was, therefore, much relieved by
this unexpected proposal.
“Return to him who sent you,” he said, “and tell him that I, Publius
Manlius, commander of that portion of the 10th Legion here, do hereby
swear before the gods that I will hold the truce inviolate, and that I
will meet him here with two officers, as he proposes, at noon tomorrow.”
At the appointed hour Malchus, with the two officers, standing just
inside the edge of the forest, saw the Roman general advancing with two
companions; they at once went forward to meet them.
“I am come,” Malchus said, “to offer to surrender to you on certain
terms. I gave you my reasons in the message I yesterday sent you. With
my band here I could defy your attempts to capture me for years, but I
do not care to lead the life of a mountain robber. Hannibal treats his
captives mercifully, and the treatment which was bestowed upon me and my
companions, who were not even taken in fair fight, but were blown by a
tempest into your port, was a disgrace to Rome. My demand is this,
that we shall be treated with the respect due to brave men, that we be
allowed to march without guard or escort down to the port, where we will
go straight on board a vessel there prepared for us. We will then
lay down our arms and surrender as prisoners of war, under the solemn
agreement taken and signed by you and the governor of the island, and
approved and ratified by the senate of Rome, that, in the first place,
the garments and armour of which we were deprived when captured, shall
be restored to us, and that we shall then be conveyed in the ship to
Rome, there to remain as prisoners of war until exchanged, being sent
nowhere else, and suffering no pains or penalties whatever for what has
taken place on this island.”
The Roman general was surprised and pleased with the moderation of
the demand. He had feared that Malchus would have insisted upon being
restored with his companions to the Carthaginian army in Italy. Such
a proposition he would have been unwilling to forward to Rome, for it
would have been a confession that all the Roman force in the island was
incapable of overcoming this handful of desperate men, and he did not
think that the demand if made would have been agreed to by the senate.
The present proposition was vastly more acceptable. He could report
without humiliation that the Carthaginian slaves had broken loose
and taken to the mountains, where there would be great difficulty in
pursuing them, and they would serve as a nucleus round which would
assemble all the disaffected in the island; and could recommend that,
as they only demanded to be sent to Rome as prisoners of war, instead
of being kept in the island, the terms should be agreed to. After a
moment's delay, therefore, he replied:
“I agree to your terms, sir, as far as I am concerned, and own they
appear to me as moderate and reasonable. I will draw out a document,
setting them forth and my acceptance of them, and will send it at once
to the prefect, praying him to sign it, and to forward it to Rome for
the approval of the senate. Pending an answer I trust that you will
abstain from any further attacks upon the villages.”
“It may be a fortnight before the answer returns,” Malchus replied;
“but if you will send up to this point a supply of cattle and flour
sufficient for our wants till the answer comes, I will promise to
abstain from all further action.”
To this the Roman readily agreed, and for a fortnight Malchus and
his friends amused themselves by hunting deer and wild boar among the
mountains. After a week had passed a man had been sent each day to the
spot agreed upon to see if any answer had been received from Rome. It
was nearly three weeks before he brought a message to Malchus that the
terms had been accepted, and that the Roman commander would meet him
there on the following day with the document. The interview took place
as arranged, and the Roman handed to Malchus the document agreeing to
the terms proposed, signed by himself and the prefect, and ratified by
the senate. He said that if Malchus with his party would descend into
the road on the following morning three miles below Metalla they would
find an escort of Roman soldiers awaiting them, and that a vessel would
be ready at the port for them to embark upon their arrival.
Next day, accordingly, Malchus with his companions left the forest, and
marched down to the valley in military order. At the appointed spot
they found twenty Roman soldiers under an officer. The latter saluted
Malchus, and informed him that his orders were to escort them to the
port, and to see that they suffered no molestation or interference at
the hands of the natives on their march. Two days' journey took them to
Caralis, and in good order and with proud bearing they marched through
the Roman soldiers, who assembled in the streets to view so strange a
spectacle. Arrived at the port they embarked on board the ship prepared
for them, and there piled their arms on deck. A Roman officer received
them, and handed over, in accordance with the terms of the agreement,
the whole of the clothing and armour of which they had been deprived.
A guard of soldiers then marched on board, and an hour later the sails
were hoisted and the vessel started for her destination.
Anxiously Malchus and his companions gazed round the horizon in hopes
that some galleys of Capua or Carthage might appear in sight, although
indeed they had but small hopes of seeing them, for no Carthaginian ship
would be likely to be found so near the coast of Italy, except indeed if
bound with arms for the use of the insurgents in the northern mountains
of Sardinia. However, no sail appeared in sight until the ship entered
the mouth of the Tiber. As they ascended the river, and the walls and
towers of Rome were seen in the distance, the prisoners forgot their own
position in the interest excited by the appearance of the great rival of
Carthage.
At that time Rome possessed but little of the magnificence which
distinguished her buildings in the days of the emperors. Everything was
massive and plain, with but slight attempt at architectural adornment.
The temples of the gods rose in stately majesty above the mass of
buildings, but even these were far inferior in size and beauty to those
of Carthage, while the size of the city was small indeed in comparison
to the wide spreading extent of its African rival.
The vessel anchored in the stream until the officer in command landed
to report his arrival with the prisoners and to receive instructions.
An hour later he returned, the prisoners were landed and received by a
strong guard of spearmen at the water gate. The news had spread rapidly
through the city. A crowd of people thronged the streets, while at the
windows and on the roofs were gathered numbers of ladies of the upper
classes. A party of soldiers led the way, pushing back the crowd as they
advanced. A line of spearmen marched on either side of the captives, and
a strong guard brought up the rear to prevent the crowd from pressing
in there. Malchus walked at the head of the prisoners, followed by his
officers, after whom came the soldiers walking two and two.
There was no air of dejection in the bearing of the captives, and they
faced the regards of the hostile crowd with the air rather of conquerors
than of prisoners. They remembered that it was but by accident that they
had fallen into the hands of the Romans, that in the battlefield they
had proved themselves over and over again more than a match for the
soldiers of Rome, and that it was the walls of the city alone which had
prevented their marching through her streets as triumphant conquerors.
It was no novel sight in Rome for Carthaginian prisoners to march
through the streets, for in the previous campaigns large numbers of
Carthaginians had been captured; but since Hannibal crossed the Alps and
carried his victorious army through Italy, scarce a prisoner had been
brought to Rome, while tens of thousands of Romans had fallen into the
hands of Hannibal. The lower class of the population of Rome were at all
times rough and brutal, and the captives were assailed with shouts of
exultation, with groans and menaces, and with bitter curses by those
whose friends and relatives had fallen in the wars.
The better classes at the windows and from the housetops abstained
from any demonstration, but watched the captives as they passed with
a critical eye, and with expressions of admiration at their fearless
bearing and haughty mien.
“Truly, that youth who marches at their head might pose for a
Carthaginian Apollo, Sempronius,” a Roman matron said as she sat at the
balcony of a large mansion at the entrance to the Forum. “I have seldom
seen a finer face. See what strength his limbs show, although he walks
as lightly as a girl. I have a fancy to have him as a slave; he would
look well to walk behind me and carry my mantle when I go abroad. See to
it, Sempronius; as your father is the military praetor, you can manage
this for me without trouble.”
“I will do my best, Lady Flavia,” the young Roman said; “but there may
be difficulties.”
“What difficulties?” Flavia demanded imperiously. “I suppose the
Carthaginians will as usual be handed over as slaves; and who should
have a better right to choose one among them than I, whose husband,
Tiberius Gracchus, is Consul of Rome?”
“None assuredly,” Sempronius replied. “It was only because, as I hear,
that youth is a cousin of Hannibal himself, and, young as he is, the
captain of his bodyguard, and I thought that my father might intend to
confine him in the prison for better security.”
Flavia waved her hand imperiously.
“When did you ever hear of a slave escaping from Rome, Sempronius? Are
not the walls high and strong, and the sentries numerous? And even did
they pass these, would not the badge of slavery betray them at once to
the first who met them without, and they would be captured and brought
back? No, I have set my mind upon having him as a slave. He will go well
with that Gaulish maiden whom Postumius sent me from the banks of the
Po last autumn. I like my slaves to be as handsome as my other
surroundings, and I see no reason why I should be baulked of my fancy.”
“I will do my best to carry out your wishes, Lady Flavia,” Sempronius
replied deferentially, for the wife of the consul was an important
personage in Rome. Her family was one of the most noble and powerful in
the city, and she herself--wealthy, luxurious, and strong willed--was
regarded as a leader of society at Rome.
Sempronius deemed it essential for his future advancement to keep on
good terms with her. At the same time he was ill pleased at this last
fancy of hers. In the first place, he was a suitor for the hand of her
daughter Julia. In the second, he greatly admired the northern beauty
of the Gaulish slave girl whom she had spoken of, and had fully intended
that when Flavia became tired of her--and her fancies seldom lasted
long--he would get his mother to offer to exchange a horse, or a hawk,
or something else upon which Flavia might set her mind, for the slave
girl, in which case she would, of course, be in his power. He did not,
therefore, approve of Flavia's intention of introducing this handsome
young Carthaginian as a slave into her household. It was true that he
was but a slave at present, but he was a Carthaginian noble of rank as
high as that of Flavia.
That he was brave was certain, or he would not be the captain of
Hannibal's bodyguard. Julia was fully as capricious as her mother, and
might take as warm a fancy for Malchus as Flavia had done, while, now
the idea of setting this Gaulish girl and the Carthaginian together had
seized Flavia, it would render more distant the time when the Roman lady
might be reasonably expected to tire of the girl. However, he felt that
Flavia's wishes must be carried out; whatever the danger might be, it
was less serious than the certainty of losing that lady's favour unless
he humoured her whims.
His family was far less distinguished than hers, and her approval of his
suit with Julia was an unexpected piece of good fortune which he owed,
as he knew, principally to the fact that Gracchus wished to marry
his daughter to Julius Marcius, who had deeply offended Flavia by an
outspoken expression of opinion, that the Roman ladies mingled too much
in public affairs, and that they ought to be content to stay at home and
rule their households and slaves.
He knew that he would have no difficulty with his father. The praetor
was most anxious that his son should make an alliance with the house
of Gracchus, and it was the custom that such prisoners taken in war,
as were not sacrificed to the gods, should be given as slaves to the
nobles. As yet the great contests in the arena, which cost the lives
of such vast numbers of prisoners taken in war, were not instituted.
Occasional combats, indeed, took place, but these were on a small scale,
and were regarded rather as a sacrifice to Mars than as an amusement for
the people.
Sempronius accordingly took his way moodily home. The praetor had just
returned, having seen Malchus and the officers lodged in prison, while
the men were set to work on the fortifications. Sempronius stated
Flavia's request. The praetor looked doubtful.
“I had intended,” he said, “to have kept the officers in prison until
the senate decided what should be done with them; but, of course, if
Flavia has set her mind on it I must strain a point. After all there
is no special reason why the prisoners should be treated differently to
others. Of course I cannot send the leader of the party to Flavia and
let the others remain in prison. As there are two of them I will send
them as presents to two of the principal families in Rome, so that
if any question arises upon the subject I shall at once have powerful
defenders; at any rate, it will not do to offend Flavia.”
Malchus, as he was led through the streets of Rome, had been making
comparisons by no means to the favour of Carthage. The greater
simplicity of dress, the absence of the luxury which was so unbridled at
Carthage, the plainness of the architecture of the houses, the free and
manly bearing of the citizens, all impressed him. Rough as was the crowd
who jeered and hooted him and his companions, there was a power and
a vigour among them which was altogether lacking at home. Under the
influence of excitement the populace there was capable of rising
and asserting themselves, but their general demeanour was that of
subservience to the wealthy and powerful.
The tyranny of the senate weighed on the people, the numerous secret
denunciations and arrests inspired each man with a mistrust of his
neighbour, for none could say that he was safe from the action of secret
enemies. The Romans, on the other hand, were no respecters of persons.
Every free citizen deemed himself the equal of the best; the plebeians
held their own against the patricians, and could always return one of
the consuls, generally selecting the man who had most distinguished
himself by his hostility to the patricians.
The tribunes, whose power in Rome was nearly equal to that of the
consuls, were almost always the representatives and champions of the
plebeians, and their power balanced that of the senate, which was
entirely in the interests of the aristocracy. Malchus was reflecting
over these things in the prison, when the door of his cell opened and
Sempronius, accompanied by two soldiers, entered. The former addressed
him in Greek.
“Follow me,” he said. “You have been appointed by my father, the praetor
Caius, to be the domestic slave of the lady Flavia Gracchus, until such
time as the senate may determine upon your fate.”
As Carthage also enslaved prisoners taken in war Malchus showed
no surprise, although he would have preferred labouring upon the
fortifications with his men to domestic slavery, however light the
latter might be. Without a comment, then, he rose and accompanied
Sempronius from his prison.
Domestic slavery in Rome was not as a whole a severe fate. The masters,
indeed, had the power of life and death over their slaves, they could
flog and ill use them as they chose; but as a rule they treated them
well and kindly.
The Romans were essentially a domestic people, kind to their wives, and
affectionate, although sometimes strict, with their children. The
slaves were treated as the other servants; and, indeed, with scarce an
exception, all servants were slaves. The rule was easy and the labour
by no means hard. Favourite slaves were raised to positions of trust and
confidence, they frequently amassed considerable sums of money, and were
often granted their freedom after faithful services.