THE DESPAIR OF ROME
After the victory of Cannæ, Hannibal was deemed more than a mere man.
Surely he must be endowed with the power of the gods, or he would never
be able to sweep eight legions from his path, as he had done on this
last dread battlefield.
Even a number of young Roman knights, of the best patrician families,
were so sure that nothing could now save their country, that they
determined to fly to the coast and thus escape to another land, where
they might yet win honour by their arms.
But Cornelius Scipio, although but a lad like themselves, drew his
sword and boldly declared that he would kill any one of them who
refused to swear never to forsake his country. His courage made the
young knights so ashamed that they gave up their selfish plan.
In Rome itself the people had been more confident than of late years,
for was not Varro at the head of their army, and had he not been heard
to say that he would conquer Hannibal in a day?
Tidings of the disaster at Cannæ reached the city first as a mere
rumour, but even so it filled the hearts of the people with dread
forebodings. Rumour said that the whole army was annihilated, that both
Consuls were slain--the citizens in despair watched and waited for
certain news of the battle.
At length a horseman was seen riding in hot haste toward the city. The
people’s hopes rose at the sight. For a moment they forgot the rumours
that had made them so uneasy, forgot all, save that their favourite
Varro had been fighting for them. So they rushed toward the messenger,
shouting with expectant voices: ‘Is it victory of which you have to
tell--victory?’
But even as they spoke the people knew how foolish were their hopes.
For the face of the rider was pale and stricken with pain, and the folk
shrank back, fearful now to hear the truth. And the messenger seemed in
no haste to tell his tidings.
But Fabius the Delayer came to him and bade him speak, saying that if
he had bad news, they were prepared to listen.
So, amid a sudden silence, the terrible tale was told, nor when it
was ended was there a house to be found in Rome that was not filled
with mourning. Henceforth the people trembled at the very sound of the
conqueror’s name.
After the first shock of the tidings, the people awoke to fresh fears.
Suppose Hannibal was already marching upon Rome?
In a panic they flocked to the gates, longing to escape from the city
that they believed was doomed.
Again it was Fabius who came and talked to the terrified folk, and by
his calmness allayed their fears. In these troublous days the Delayer
proved indeed so strong and wise that, before long, even those who had
been used to mock at his slowness were glad to turn to him for counsel.
It was Fabius who ordered guards to be placed at the gates, that the
frightened inhabitants might not desert their city. It was he who
ordered the women not to wail and sob in the streets, but to go quietly
to their homes to mourn there for their dead.
Meanwhile messengers were sent along the Appian and Latin roads to
gather tidings of Hannibal’s movements. And soon they returned to
tell that the conqueror was not on his way to Rome, but was still in
Apulia, dividing the spoil of the battle.
Varro, who was in Venusia, had with much difficulty gathered together
the remnant of the army. He was now bidden by the Senate to bring it
back to Rome.
It was a command he had dreaded. He had left Rome in joy, proud of the
confidence of the people, he was going back shamed and, in his own
eyes, disgraced. How would he be received by the Senate, by the people?
When he reached the gates of the city he would not enter, but awaited
without the judgment of his fellows.
Then the Senate, knowing that the Consul loved his country and mourned
for the humiliation he had brought upon her, went down to the gates to
welcome him, followed by many of the people.
Fabius was among the senators, and from none of their lips did Varro
hear a word of blame for the disaster of Cannæ. But they praised him
for gathering together the remnant of the army, and thanked him, too,
that after so great a loss ‘he had not despaired of the safety of the
Commonwealth, but had come back to Rome to help them in their plans to
deliver their country from the Carthaginians.’
Meanwhile Hannibal had marched to Campania, and been gladly welcomed
to its chief city Capua. Here, after their many hardships, he and his
army enjoyed through the winter months comfort and ease. It is even
said that the great general relaxed the severity of his discipline for
a time.
But Capua was punished for opening its gates to Hannibal, for two Roman
armies, under Fabius and Marcellus, were sent to besiege the town. The
siege lasted during 212 and 211 B.C.
In the latter year Hannibal determined to march to Rome, for by doing
so he thought he would force the Roman armies to leave Capua.
So at length what the citizens had often feared actually came to pass.
The dreaded Carthaginian was on his way to Rome, and the people
were sure that their city would be razed to the ground, while they
themselves would be carried away as slaves.
But although Hannibal encamped three miles from the city, and rode
round part of her walls, he did not attempt to lay siege to her.
He knew that he had not the materials needed to reduce so strong a
fortress as Rome.
Hannibal did not achieve all that he had hoped from his march. The
siege of Capua was not raised, although Fabius, it is true, was
recalled from before her walls.
So the Punic general, having accomplished little, set out, meaning to
return to Capua. He was followed by a Roman army, of which he took no
notice until five days later.
Then, hearing that Capua was still besieged, he was angry, and vented
his wrath upon the army at his rear. Waiting until it was dark and
their camp was set up, Hannibal stormed it, and drove the Romans away
in utter confusion. As he knew he was not strong enough to relieve
Capua, he did not return to the city, and she, thus deserted, was
forced to surrender to the Romans.
But thirty of the noblest senators of Capua resolved to die rather than
fall into the hands of those they had betrayed, for they feared their
vengeance. So they met together for a last solemn feast, after which
they each took poison, and so escaped from their enemy.
The senators who had chosen to trust to Roman justice were loaded with
chains and sent as prisoners to two different towns.
Fulvius, who longed for a sterner punishment, determined to inflict
it himself. He followed the prisoners with a body of cavalry, and
reached the first town early one morning. Twenty-eight of the wretched
prisoners were at once ordered to be brought before him, that they
might be scourged and put to death. Then, hastening to the other town,
he ordered twenty-five senators to be put to death, without the trial
they had a right to expect.
It is told that before his vengeance was complete Fulvius received a
letter from Rome, ordering the punishment of the senators of Capua
to be delayed until she herself was able to judge them. But Fulvius,
suspecting what was in the letter, left it unread until his horrible
work was done.
Meantime, Hannibal was looking for reinforcements from Africa, and he
wished to secure a good harbour where they might land in safety. So
in 210 B.C. he attacked the citadel of Tarentum, and took it, only,
however, to lose it the following year, when it was retaken by Fabius.
Hannibal had now no port at which troops might land.
If he was yet further to subdue Italy he must wait until his brother
Hasdrubal could bring him fresh troops from Spain.