A GREAT SCHEME.
Scipio's forebodings as to the incapacity of the new generals were
rapidly justified. The siege operations had not been uniformly
successful before they took over the command. There had been losses as
well as gains. Still, on the whole, the besiegers had the balance of
advantage. The defence had been broken down at more points than one.
Carthage was distinctly in a worse position than it had been three
months after the breaking out of the war. The besieged had done some
damage to the Roman fleet, had burnt a considerable extent of
siege-works, and had suffered a distinctly smaller loss in killed and
wounded than they had been able to inflict on their assailants.
But if the damage that they suffered was less than that which they did,
still it was less capable of being repaired, often indeed could not be
repaired at all. If a ship was burnt, they could not build another; the
losses of the garrison could not be filled up; the general waste of
strength could not be repaired. Carthage, in short, had only itself to
draw upon as a reserve; Rome had all the countries that bordered on the
Mediterranean, from Greece westward. These were advantages which were
certain to tell in the long run, but meanwhile much might occur to delay
the final victory.
The first thing to happen in the Roman camp was that supplies began to
fall short. The country round Carthage was, of course, so much wasted by
this time that practically nothing could be drawn from it. Further off,
indeed, there was plenty of food and forage, but the natives showed no
readiness in bringing it into camp. The fact was that there was no
market; buyers there were in plenty, but not buyers with money in hand,
for the military chest was empty, and the pay of the soldiers months in
arrear.
The consequence of this was that the Roman generals practically raised
the siege of Carthage, and devoted their time and strength to reducing
the Carthaginian towns, hoping thus to supply their wants. But in this
attempt they made very little progress. They began by attacking the town
of Clypea. Here they failed. The fleet could not make its way into the
harbour, which the townspeople had effectually protected by sinking a
couple of ships in the entrance, and the Roman engineers could not reach
the walls of the town.
They had better fortune with another small town in the neighbourhood,
though their success was gained in a not very creditable way. The
townspeople were disposed to come to terms, and a conference between
their representatives and the Roman generals was accordingly held. Terms
were agreed upon, and the agreement had been actually signed, when some
soldiers made their way into the town. The Romans at once broke up the
meeting, and treated the place as if it had been taken by storm. This
conduct was, of course, as unwise as it was wicked. Next to nothing was
gained by the falsehood, while every Carthaginian dependency resolved to
resist to the uttermost.
Hippo was the next place to be attacked. After Carthage and Utica--the
Roman head-quarters were at Utica--Hippo was the largest and most
important town in Northern Africa. Its docks, its harbour, its walls
were on a grand scale. Two hundred years before, Agathocles, tyrant of
Syracuse, in his desperate struggle with Carthage had made it the base
of his operations. A lavish expenditure, directed by the best engineers
of the time, had made it almost impregnable.
The Roman generals had, indeed, excellent reasons for attacking it. Till
it was in their power, they could hardly hope to capture Carthage, for
it stood almost between their own head-quarters and that city, and
commanded the route by which stores had to be carried to the besieging
army. But the Roman forces were quite unequal to the undertaking. Twice
did the people of Hippo, helped by a sally from Carthage, destroy the
siege-works, and when the time for retiring to winter quarters arrived,
nothing had been accomplished by the besiegers.
All this did vast damage to the prestige of the Romans. Far-seeing
persons were convinced, as I have said, that the future belonged to
them; but ordinary observers began to think, and not without some
excuse, that their decline had begun. Among these were two out of three
sons of King Masinissa. Possibly dissatisfaction had something to do
with their state of mind. Each had expected to get more than Scipio's
award had given him; both grudged to Gulussa the command of the troops,
suspecting that this meant in the end their own subjection to him.
Gulussa himself seemed to be still loyal to Rome, but the general
discontent had not failed to reach some of the high-placed officers in
his army.
Cleanor was still with Mastanabal, and, of course, watched the progress
of affairs with intense interest. His hopes rose high when tidings
reached the palace that the Romans had abandoned the siege of Hippo. At
the evening meal that day the subject was discussed, but in a very
guarded way, for the prince was still, at least in name, an ally of
Rome, and his young secretary, for this was the office which Cleanor now
filled, was too discreet to ignore the fact. The hour for retiring had
almost come when the confidential slave who waited on the prince
hurriedly entered the chamber and placed a letter in his hands. It was a
double tablet closely bound together with cords of crimson silk, these
again being secured by seals. Hastily cutting the cords with the dagger
which he carried at his waist, the prince read the communication with
that impassive and inscrutable look which it is one of the necessities
of a despotic ruler to acquire. Rising shortly after from table he bade
the young Greek good-night, but added, as if by an after-thought, "But
stay, I have a book, a new acquisition, to show you. Come into the
library."
The library was a small inner room, of a semicircular shape,
which opened out of the dining-hall. It had this great advantage,
contemplated, no doubt, by the builder who designed it, that
conversations held in it could not by any possibility be overheard. It
had an outer wall everywhere except on the side which adjoined the
dining-hall. It was built on columns, so that no one could listen
beneath, and there was no storey over it. As long as the outer chamber
was empty, absolute secrecy was ensured. Only a bird of the air could
carry the matters discussed in it.
"Listen, Cleanor," said the prince, and proceeded to read the following
letter:--
_Hasdrubal, son of Gisco, to King Mastanabal greeting. Know that
if you would save Africa, now, and now only, you have the
opportunity. The Romans have fled from Hippo fewer by a third
than when they first attacked it. Bithyas, commander of
Gulussa's cavalry, has come over to us with seven hundred of his
best troopers. Strike then along with us such a blow as shall
rid us of this devouring Beast now and for ever. Else you shall
yourself surely be devoured. Think not that when Carthage is
destroyed, there shall be any hope left for Numidia. Farewell!_
"What think you of this, Cleanor?" the king asked after a pause. "I know
well enough that you have no liking for the Romans. Indeed, why should
you? But you can judge of how things stand, judge, doubtless, better in
some ways than I can, for there are many things that we kings never see.
Speak frankly. No one can overhear us."
"Sire," replied the young Greek, "it wants, I fear, more wisdom than I
possess to give you any profitable counsel. I hate Rome, but I fear her.
She makes blunders without number, but always manages to succeed in the
end. She chooses mere fools and braggarts for her generals, but always
finds the right man at last. So I read her history. There was a time
when everyone believed that Hannibal would make an end of her, and yet
she survived. She lost army after army, yet conquered in the end. After
a Flaminius and a Varro[8] she found a Scipio. And she has a Scipio now.
I saw him, sire, the other day, and felt that he was a great man."
"But he is too young," interrupted the king. "He wants some five years
yet of the age when he can be put in chief command."
"True, sire; but when a man is absolutely necessary they will have him,
be he young or old."
"Then there is their unending civil strife. What of that?"
"It makes for us, no doubt. But even that they can drop on occasion."
After a pause of some minutes Mastanabal spoke again.
"Then, what do you advise?"
"Sire," replied the young Greek, "I would advise you for the present to
do nothing. Let me answer this letter in person, and answer it as I
think best, if you can trust me so far. I have a plan, for I have been
thinking of these matters night and day. But don't ask me what it is. It
is better that you should know nothing about it. I will start at once.
It might look well if you were to send some troopers in pursuit. Of
course they must not catch me. Put Juba in command, and we may rely on
their not being too active."
"Will you carry any token from me?" asked the king.
"No, sire, it is better not. Let me have the letter; that will be
enough. Will you forgive me if I steal Whitefoot from her stable?"
"Take her or any other horse that you want. Have you money enough?"
"Ample, sire; your good father provided me with that."
"Then, farewell! You make me curious, but I suppose that I may not ask
any questions. In any case, and whatever happens, count me as a sure
friend."
Before midnight Cleanor was well on his way to Carthage. At the first
signs of dawn he drew rein, and halted for the day at a small cluster of
palms, where there was abundance of herbage for his horse. Starting
again at nightfall he reached the camp of Hasdrubal just as the light
was showing itself in the east. The camp, it should be explained, was
pitched outside the city. The larger half of the Carthaginian army
occupied it. The remainder of the troops were stationed within the walls
under the command of another Hasdrubal.
Cleanor, who had contrived to learn something about the arrangements of
the camp, gave himself up into the hands of the officer commanding an
outlying picket. Hasdrubal's letter proved, as he had anticipated, a
sufficient passport, and he was conducted, after taking a few hours'
rest, into the general's presence.
The personality of Hasdrubal was not by any means attractive, and
Cleanor could not help comparing his puny physique and sinister
expression with the commanding figure and noble countenance of Scipio.
The Carthaginian may be best described by saying that he resembled the
more ignoble type of Jew. It is often forgotten that the Phoenician
race, of which the Carthaginian people was the principal offshoot, was
closely akin to the Hebrew in blood and language.[9] Hasdrubal showed
the relationship plainly enough. His black, ringlety hair, prominent
nose, thick, sensual lips, and keen but shifty eyes, were just such as
might have been seen at that day in the meaner quarters of Jerusalem or
Alexandria (then become the second capital of the Jews), and at the
present time in the London Whitechapel or the Roman Ghetto.
On the present occasion, however, Hasdrubal wore his most pleasing
expression. He was genuinely delighted to see Cleanor, as much delighted
as he was astonished, for he had taken it for granted that the young man
had perished in the destruction of Chelys.
"Hail, Cleanor!" he cried with a heartiness that was not in the least
affected. "What good fortune has restored you to us? we had long given
you up as dead."
Cleanor gave him in the fewest possible words a sketch of what had
happened.
"And what can I do for you?" continued Hasdrubal. "If, as I hope, you
are come to join us, I can find plenty of work for you. Things are
looking more bright for Carthage than they have done for years past. We
shall soon have all Africa with us. When that happens the Romans will
have nothing left them but the ground that they stand on, and even that,
I hope, not very long. You have heard of Bithyas with his squadron
coming over to us? We shall soon have the rest of Gulussa's army
following him, and then there will be Gulussa himself and his brothers.
You have been in Mastanabal's household; tell me how he stands."
Cleanor produced in answer Hasdrubal's own letter. "The king's
position," he went on, "is a very difficult one, and he must act with
the greatest caution in your interests as well as in his own. If he
declares himself too soon, his brothers will most certainly take the
other side. What is wanted is a combination so strong as to compel all
the three to declare themselves together. He wishes well to you; that I
can say positively."
"That is good as far as it goes, though I should have liked something
more definite."
"May I put before you," said Cleanor, "an idea which has been working
for some time in my head? I am afraid that it is somewhat presumptuous
in a youth such as I am to discuss such things; still, if you are
willing to hear--"
"Say on, my young friend," cried the Carthaginian; "a son of your house
is not likely to say anything but what is worth hearing."
"I spoke of a combination which would enable Mastanabal to declare
himself. Don't you think such a combination might be made among all
those who hate Rome or fear her? First there is my own nation. The
League[10] is, I have heard, little satisfied with its powerful friends,
and it needs only a little blowing to set that fire a-blazing. Then
there are the Macedonians, who haven't forgotten that they were masters
of the world not so very long ago. There is Syria, there is Egypt, both
of them afraid of being swallowed up before long. There are the Jews,
kinsmen of your own, I believe. Is it not so?"
"Yes," said the Carthaginian, "kinsmen, but not friends. I fear that we
shall not get much help there."
"Then there is Spain. What do you know, sir, of Spain? Is there any
chance of a rising?"
"The northern tribes[11] still hold their own, but they will hardly go
outside their own borders. They are quite content to be free themselves
without thinking of others. Still, there is something that might be done
in Spain. Only, unluckily, the Spaniards don't love us any more than
they love the Romans. Perhaps they love us rather less. However, this
is a promising scheme of yours, my young friend. Ah! if it had not been
for you Greeks we should have had all the shores of the Sea[12] long
ago. We never could get you out of Sicily. It would be strange if you
were now to make amends to us for all the mischief that you have done."
Cleanor, who had read history to some purpose, could not help thinking
to himself that mankind would hardly have been better off than it was if
Carthage had been mistress of the west. But he put away the thought. His
lot was cast, and he could not, would not change it. The memory of the
inexpiable wrong that he had suffered swept over his mind, and he set
himself resolutely to carry out his purpose.
"And what do you suggest?" continued Hasdrubal.
"To go myself and see what can be done," replied the Greek.
"Good! And let no time be lost. I don't mean that you are one to lose
time; that you certainly are not; I mean that we had better not say
anything about this to the authorities inside the walls. There will be
questions, debates, delays, nothing settled, I feel sure, till it is
too late. You must go unofficially, but I will give you letters of
commendation which you will find useful. Succeed, and there is nothing
that you may not ask, and get, from Carthage and from me. When shall you
be ready to start?"
"To-day."
"And whither do you propose to go first?"
"First, of course, to Greece; then to Macedonia. I hear that there is
someone there who calls himself the son of King Philip, and that the
Macedonians are flocking to his standard."
"So be it. Farewell; and Hercules be with you!"
FOOTNOTES:
8: Flaminius commanded at the disastrous battle of Lake
Trasumennus, Varro at the still more disastrous defeat of Cannæ.
9: _Carthage_ was Kirjath-Hadeschath, the "new town" (opposed to
Tyre, which was the old); its chief magistrates were _Shophetim_
(Latinized into Suffetes), the Hebrew word for "judges". _Barca_
was a well-known name, corresponding to the Hebrew _Barak_, and
meaning "lightning".
10: By the "League" Cleanor means the Achæan League, a
combination originally of the cities of Achaia proper, or the
southern shore of the Corinthian Gulf, but afterwards extended
over the greater part of Mainland Greece.
11: The Cantabri (now the Basques), who were not subdued by Rome
for more than a century after this time.
12: By the "Sea" Hasdrubal means the _Mediterranean_; outside
the Pillars of Hercules (Gibraltar and Tangiers) was the _Ocean_
(the Atlantic).