THE DESTRUCTION OF CARTHAGE
Under the rule of the previous Consuls the discipline of the army had
been slack. When Scipio returned to Africa, his first work was to
restore strict discipline.
The soldiers were no longer allowed to stray out of the camp when they
chose in search of plunder; while bands of traders and a crowd of idle
folk who had followed the army, also in hope of plunder, were banished.
Luxuries which had abounded in the camp were forbidden by the young
commander. Plain fare and regular drill soon made the army more anxious
to meet the enemy than to plunder and waste its days in idleness.
Now Carthage stood on a peninsula, a narrow isthmus joining it to the
mainland. Beyond this isthmus lay Megara, a suburb from which Carthage
procured most of her provisions.
When his army was ready for work, Scipio determined to cut Carthage off
from Megara, so that she might no longer be able to get food for the
city.
Across the narrow isthmus the Consul therefore ordered trenches to
be dug, three miles in length. Along the trenches, fortifications
and towns were speedily built, and when these were finished it was
impossible to get a morsel of food into the city by land.
Megara was then taken, and Hasdrubal was forced to retire with his army
into Carthage itself, of which he was at once made governor.
The Carthaginians could now only bring food into the city by sea, and
this was no easy task.
But with a strong wind blowing, there were many brave sailors daring
enough to risk being able to run past the Roman cruisers, and thus to
carry food into the harbour. So, although Megara was taken, the city
was able still to hold out against the enemy without being starved.
Scipio saw that he must now block the sea passage as he had already
blocked the land, if he meant to starve the city into submission, and
he ordered a strong barricade to be built across the mouth of the
harbour.
The Carthaginians mocked at the Roman soldiers as they watched them
bringing great stones to the harbour, for they thought that the enemy
had undertaken a task it would never be able to complete.
But as they saw that the Romans worked night and day, and as the huge
embankment rose before their eyes, they mocked no more. Perhaps after
all the Romans would succeed in blocking the harbour, and if that were
done they must starve.
So they, too, set to work, but in secret, to make a new opening from
the harbour to the sea.
Men and women, and even children, joined in the work, and at the same
time workmen in the city built a new fleet. It is true the ships had to
be built of old timber, or any wood that could be found, but this was
not enough to daunt the indomitable courage of the besieged.
Noiselessly the work was done, so that Scipio knew nothing about what
was going on, until one day when his barricade was almost finished.
Then, to his astonishment, he saw a fleet of fifty ships, which was
plainly but just built, sail out of a newly-cut passage from the
harbour.
The Roman was ill-pleased to be thus outwitted by his foe, yet perhaps
he also felt that here was a people worthy of his skill.
Three days later a great battle was fought at sea. From morning until
evening the battle raged, but neither side could claim the victory.
At length the Carthaginian fleet attempted to sail back to its harbour.
But the smaller vessels blocked the passage so that the large ships
were forced to stay without.
The Romans seized their chance, and attacked the enemy in this position.
A desperate struggle followed, and the Carthaginians, who were as used
to the sea as to the land, fought with unfailing courage. But at length
they were beaten, and the greater part of the new fleet was destroyed.
Winter was approaching, and Scipio had at length succeeded in closing
every approach to the city. Neither by sea nor by land could the
wretched people now get food.
As the weeks dragged slowly by, the misery in the besieged city grew
terrible. Many of the citizens killed themselves rather than endure a
day longer the pangs of hunger, while others in their desperate need
even ate the dead bodies of their fellows. Some gave themselves up to
the Romans, and were then sold as slaves.
In the early spring of 146 B.C. the Carthaginians were so exhausted
that they had little strength left to withstand the attack which Scipio
now made upon the town. Yet still they would not yield.
Hasdrubal, seeing that the enemy could not be repulsed, ordered the
outer harbour to be set on fire.
But as the flames leaped up, Lælius succeeded in scaling the wall, and
entered the city with his men, unnoticed in the confusion caused by the
fire. They soon reached the gates, and opened them to their comrades,
and in a short time the Forum was in the hands of the Romans.
From the Forum, three narrow streets led up to the Byrsa or Castle of
Carthage. The houses on either side of these streets were six storeys
high, and to these the inhabitants of the city rushed.
As the Romans pushed their way along the narrow streets, the
Carthaginians flung down upon them from windows and roofs every missile
or weapon on which they could lay their hands.
At length Scipio ordered his men to storm the houses. Then a terrible
hand-to-hand fight began with the starving citizens.
Clambering on to the roofs, which were flat, the soldiers stretched
boards or beams across from one house to another, and hurled out of the
way those citizens who still tried to hinder their progress.
For six days and nights the desperate townsfolk continued to baffle the
efforts of the Romans to reach their last stronghold, the Byrsa.
During this awful struggle, Scipio himself sent forward continually new
companies of men, and in his anxiety he scarcely found time to sleep or
to eat.
At length, however, the foot of the citadel was reached, and Scipio
ordered the narrow streets to be set on fire.
Then the Carthaginians knew that they could do no more, and those who
had taken refuge in the Byrsa surrendered, on being promised that their
lives should be safe.
Fifty thousand men, women, and children, pale and haggard with all that
they had gone through during the long drawn out siege, left the castle
and were carried off as prisoners.
Hasdrubal, who had defended the city so bravely, was still untaken.
He, with his wife and children, as well as about nine hundred Romans
who had deserted their own camp, now took refuge in the temple of
Æsculapius, and set fire to it themselves.
But Hasdrubal, feeling, it may be, that he could not help his country
by his death, resolved to save his life.
He escaped from the burning temple, and, with an olive branch in his
hand, threw himself at the feet of Scipio, begging for life. And the
Roman commander granted his request.
It is told that the wife of Hasdrubal stood on the roof of the temple
and cursed her husband as she saw him crouching at the feet of the
conqueror.
Calling aloud to him that he was a traitor and a coward, she flung
first her two sons and then herself into the flames before the eyes of
her horror-stricken husband.
Meanwhile, with all speed a ship was sent to Rome, laden with the
spoils of Carthage.
Great was the rejoicing in the city when it was known that her ancient
rival was in ruins. Orders were at once sent to Scipio, bidding him
complete his work by destroying the town.
So Carthage was given to the flames, and for seventeen days the
fire blazed untiringly. Scipio, as he watched the doomed city,
thought of other great countries that had been destroyed by their
enemies--Assyria, Persia, Macedonia. In the unknown future would Rome
fall even as these?
Thinking thus, Scipio murmured the lines of Homer:
‘The day shall come when holy Troy shall fall,
And Priam, lord of spears and Priam’s folk.’
When the flames had at last died out, a plough, drawn by oxen, was
driven over the site of the town, and Scipio uttered a solemn curse
against any one who should venture to build a new city on the ancient
site of Carthage.