THE MEGARA.
Courteous, and even generous, as Scipio had showed himself in the matter
of the exchange of prisoners, he was not a man to let slip a single
advantage that might fall into his hands, or, when he delivered a blow,
to hesitate to strike with all his force. He allowed a short time for
his army to get used to the new condition of things. This he could well
afford, for the season was yet early. When he found his army restored to
a sound condition, physical and moral, at once hardened to labour and
amenable to discipline, in a word, thoroughly efficient, he proceeded to
act. It was as a keen, well-tempered sword in his hands, and he struck
with promptitude and energy.
His first plan was to follow the line of attack which Mancinus had
initiated. The weak spot in the defences of a wealthy city is commonly
found in the buildings which are allowed to grow up in times of peace
outside the fortifications. Life in a walled city is often both irksome
and unhealthy. The poor, always compelled to put up with a narrow space
whether within walls or without them, is indifferent, but the rich man
wants his garden and his playground, wants room for the health of his
family or his own entertainment. In this way a suburb, mainly consisting
of residences of the wealthy, had grown up outside the northern walls of
the city. It presented, only on a larger scale, much the same features
as the locality which Mancinus had fixed upon as his point of attack.
But it had a fortified wall of its own. This had in process of time
become a necessity. For more than four centuries after its foundation
Carthage had never seen a foreign invader on its soil. But there came a
time when its enemies discovered that it might be most effectually
attacked at home. Therefore, splendid houses which offered a rich prize
to the plunderer could no longer be left without a defence, and the
Megara had to be surrounded with a fortification, which started from the
city wall and joined it again. But the space which had to be inclosed
was great, and the new wall was neither so strong, so well furnished
with towers, nor so adequately garrisoned as the old. It was meant, in
fact, rather for a protection against a sudden attack than as a
permanent defence.
Scipio resolved on a night assault, an operation possible only to a
thoroughly well-disciplined army. He divided his force into two columns,
taking personal command of the one which was actually to attack. The
other was to make a demonstration, which was not to be developed into an
assault except the officer at its head saw a particularly favourable
opportunity. As the two points threatened were more than a couple of
miles apart--so great was the circuit of the Megara wall--the attention
of the garrison was effectually distracted. Scipio's column succeeded in
reaching its destination unobserved, and its sudden approach, coupled
with the alarm simultaneously raised on the other side, threw the
garrison into confusion.
But the assault received a check. A deserter had indicated the spot
where the wall might be most easily scaled. It had been used as a short
cut by marauders, stragglers, and others who did not care to go in or
out by the gate. Some stones had been broken down at the top of the
wall, while at the bottom there was a natural rise in the ground which
diminished the height. But the place had not escaped the vigilance of
the officer whose business it was to inspect this portion of the
fortification. The stones had been replaced and the rise in the ground
levelled. A determined attempt was then made at various points with the
scaling-ladders. But an assailant who is mounting a ladder is at a
considerable disadvantage when matched with an antagonist who has a firm
footing on the wall above. Here and there, indeed, especially where a
bit of the wall lay in shadow, the ladder could be applied and the wall
scaled unobserved by the guard. But these successes could not be
followed up. The soldiers who thus made good their footing on the top
were few and far between; unable to help each other, they could not hold
the ground that they had won. The only decided advantage obtained in
this direction was the capture of one of the small towers disposed at
intervals along the wall. This tower had been deserted by its guard,
who had hurried to repel a scaling-party, and was occupied by the Romans
in their absence.
Scipio saw that he was losing men to no purpose, and ordered the retreat
to be sounded. But his quick eye had detected a place which seemed to
promise better. Some resident in Megara had felt the same impatience of
being kept within walls to which the whole suburb itself owed its first
existence, and had built, in a spot which commanded a wide view over the
sea, one of those towers which we now commonly call "follies". The place
was of course deserted when the war broke out, but it was not destroyed,
as it ought to have been, for it was dangerously near the wall. So near,
indeed, was it that it was quite possible to throw a bridge across the
intervening space; fortunately, too, it was not very far from the tower
mentioned above as having been occupied by the assailants. A
considerable force of archers and slingers was brought up to the spot,
and they kept up so vigorous a discharge of missiles that this portion
of the wall, some fifty paces or so in length, was absolutely cleared of
its defenders. Two scaling-ladders, hastily lashed together, served
sufficiently well for a bridge. Across this two or three scores of
active young soldiers, picked out for their courage and strength, made
their way in rapid succession, and descending from the wall on the
inner side, hastened to open one of the gates. Before an hour had
passed, Scipio, with nearly four thousand men, was within the walls of
the Megara.
For a time the panic was as great as if Carthage itself, and not a
suburb, which never could have been seriously defended, had been taken.
The garrison of the Megara fled in wild confusion to the inner city, the
gates of which were blocked with a crowd of frantic fugitives. Cleanor,
who had joined the flying division as a volunteer, found himself carried
back towards the city walls by a quite irresistible torrent of
panic-stricken men.
Then a rally took place. In the first place the fugitives were compelled
to halt, if for no other reason than because they could not get through
the gates. Then the old instinct of obedience and discipline reasserted
itself, especially in the mercenaries, among whom the panic had been
most severe. Little by little the officers were able to restore some
kind of order, and even to recover some of the lost ground. The
defenders had the inestimable advantage of knowing the locality. To the
mercenaries, indeed, most of whom had never been inside Carthage, the
place was as strange as it was to the Romans; but the flying division
consisted entirely of native troops, and these were thoroughly at home
among the lanes and alleys of the Megara, where indeed most of them had
their family residences.
Cleanor had an hour or so of very lively adventure in the company of an
officer of the division, and could not help feeling a certain regret
when he heard the Roman bugles sound the recall. Scipio, in truth, had
found that his position was not by any means desirable. The Megara was
almost covered with detached houses, each surrounded by its gardens and
orchards, these again being intersected by running streams, some of
which were of considerable depth, and had branches winding in all
directions. Any adequate military occupation of such a region would
require a much larger force than he had at hand, and would serve no
useful purpose. And he could not quite trust his men. They had accepted
his reforms with wonderful docility, but here they were in the presence
of almost overpowering temptations. Many of the houses in the Megara
were full of the accumulated wealth of centuries. A few minutes among
such possessions would enrich a soldier with more than he could hope to
acquire in twenty campaigns. In fact, it was only too probable that the
men would take to plundering, and quite certain that, if they did, they
would be destroyed in detail. There were abundant reasons, therefore,
why the Roman general should order a retreat. Even as it was, his
losses were not inconsiderable.
"I wonder whether anyone has been paying a visit here?" said Cleanor's
companion to him as they approached one of the houses in the Megara.
"This is my father's place."
It should be explained that the non-combatant population had fled from
the Megara as soon as it was attacked. Even before that many persons had
deserted their houses for safer quarters within the city itself.
"It is a very likely place," the Carthaginian continued, "for a man to
lose his way in. Perhaps we may lay our hands on a prize. Come this way;
I know the best place for waiting."
The two young men, taking a couple of soldiers with them, made their way
down a narrow lane which skirted the garden of the house. The moon had
set by this time, but there was a dim light of dawn. After a few minutes
of waiting, the party could plainly hear that someone was approaching.
"There must be two men at least," whispered the Carthaginian; "and they
have missed the path, for they are crashing through the shrubs. By
Dagon! we have them, for there is a bit of deep water that they must get
over. Let us come a little further on. Mago, you know the hand-bridge;
go as quick as you can and secure it."
He had scarcely finished speaking when the party for which they were
watching came in sight. It consisted of three persons, and there was now
enough light to distinguish them. One was a Roman officer. He wore the
ornaments of a tribune, and might have been some twenty years of
age.[35] His two companions were private soldiers, and light-armed. The
three, forcing their way through the shrubbery, which here was
particularly dense, came upon the water. It was evidently an entirely
unexpected obstacle.
"Caius," said the officer, addressing one of the men, "how is this to be
managed?"
"We can jump it," the man answered, "with the help of our spears. When
we are on the further side, you, sir, must do the best you can, and we
will help you out."
"Very good," said the officer, "jump!"
"Let them go," whispered the Carthaginian to Cleanor, "we don't want
them; but the officer will be a prize worth having."
Each of the two soldiers planted his spear in the bed of the stream, and
swung himself across without much difficulty. The tribune, having first
thrown his sword to the other side, jumped his furthest. No run was
possible, for the shrubs were thick on the bank; still it was a good
leap--excellent, indeed, considering the weight of the young Roman's
armour. The breadth of the water was about twenty-four feet, and the
tribune had cleared eighteen. His companions were in the act of reaching
out one of their spears for him to grasp when the Carthaginian and his
party showed themselves. The young Roman understood the situation in a
moment.
"Save yourselves," he gasped, as soon as he could speak, "I am lost!"
After a moment's hesitation the men obeyed. To stay would have been a
useless sacrifice, for they must have been inevitably cut down while
they were attempting to save their companion.
"Speak to him," said the Carthaginian. "Try him with Greek; the Roman
gentlemen mostly know it. But perhaps we had better help him out of the
water first."
[Illustration: "DO YOU YIELD?" SAID CLEANOR WHEN THE ROMAN HAD REACHED
THE SHORE.]
"Do you yield?" said Cleanor in Greek, when the Roman had reached the
shore.
"I see no choice," replied the young man in the same language.
Giving his promise that he would not attempt to escape, he received his
sword, and accompanied his captors to the city. A few inquiries, made
and answered in Greek, satisfied them that they had indeed, as the
Carthaginian had anticipated, secured a prize. The tribune was a
Scipio, a kinsman not very distantly related to the commander.
"Let him be your prisoner," said Cleanor's companion to him. "He may
bring you promotion, which I am pretty sure of in any case. Though,
indeed," he added after a pause, "I strongly suspect that it will be all
the same for most of us, promotion or no promotion, a year hence."
FOOTNOTE:
35: Scipio was a tribune at this age. Young men of good birth
were appointed to the office without previous service. Soldiers
of lower origin who distinguished themselves were promoted to
it, but, of course, at a later age. The great Marius was not a
tribune till he was between thirty and forty.