The Samnites could well afford to let them wait. The rear was held by the bulk of their army. The obstacles in front were strongly guarded.
Every possible track by which the Romans might try to scale the hills was held. Some desperate attempts to break out were made, but they were easily repulsed. Nothing remained but surrender, or death by famine.
One or other of these alternatives had soon to be chosen. A large army, surprised on its march, and confined within a barren pa.s.s, could not have subsistence for any long period. Nothing was to be gained by delay, and they might as well yield themselves prisoners of war at once.
So the Romans evidently thought, and without delay they put themselves at the mercy of their conquerors. "We yield ourselves your captives,"
they said, "to do with as you will. Put us all to the sword, if such be your decision; sell us into slavery; or hold us as prisoners until we are ransomed: one thing only we ask, save our bodies, whether living or dead, from all unworthy insults."
In this request they forgot the record that Rome had made; forgot how often n.o.ble captives had been forced to walk in Roman triumphs and been afterwards slain in cold blood in the common prison; forgot how they had recently refused the rites of burial to the body of a n.o.ble Samnite. But Pontius, the Samnite general, was much less of a barbarian than the Romans of that age. He was acquainted with Greek philosophy, had even held conversation, it is said, with Plato, and was not the man to indulge in cruel or insulting acts.
"Restore to us," he said to the consuls, "the towns and territory you have taken from us, and withdraw the colonists whom you have unjustly placed on our soil. Conclude with us a treaty of peace, in which each nation shall be acknowledged to be independent of the other. Swear to do this, and I will grant you your lives and release you without ransom.
Each man of you shall give up his arms, but may keep his clothes untouched; and you shall pa.s.s before our army as prisoners who have been in our power and whom we have set free of our own will, when we might have killed or sold them, or held them for ransom."
These terms the consuls were glad enough to accept. They were far better than they would have granted the Samnites under similar circ.u.mstances.
Pontius now called for the Roman fecialis, whose duty it was to conclude all treaties and take all oaths for the Roman people. But there was no fecialis with the army. The senate had sent none, having resolved to make no terms with the Samnites, and to accept only their absolute submission. They had never dreamed of such a turn of the tide as this.
In the absence of the proper officer, the consuls and all the surviving officers took the oath, while it was agreed that six hundred knights should be held as hostages until the Roman people had ratified the treaty. Why Pontius did not insist on treating with the senate and people of Rome at once, instead of trusting to them to ratify a treaty made with prisoners of war, we are not told. He was soon to learn how weak a reed to lean upon was the Roman faith.
The treaty made, the humiliating part of the affair came. The Roman army was obliged to march under the yoke, which consisted of two spears set upright and a third fastened across their tops. Under this the soldiers of the legions without their arms, and wearing but a single article of clothing,--the campestre or kilt, which reached from the waist to the knees,--pa.s.sed in gloomy succession. Even the consuls were obliged to appear in this humble plight, the six hundred hostage knights alone being spared.
This was no peculiar insult, but a common usage on such occasions. The Romans had imposed it more than once on defeated enemies. They were now to endure it themselves, and the affair, under the name of the Caudine Forks, has become famous in history.
Pontius proved, indeed, generous to his foes. He supplied carriages for the sick and wounded, and furnished provisions to last the army until it should arrive at Home. When that city was reached the senate and people came out and welcomed the soldiers with the greatest kindness. But the wounded pride of the legionaries could not be soothed. Those who had homes in the country stole from the ranks and sought their several dwellings. Those who lived in Rome lingered without the walls until after the sun had fallen, and then made their way home through the darkness. The consuls were obliged to enter in open day, but as soon as possible they sought their homes, and shut themselves up in privacy.
As for the city, it went into mourning. All business was suspended; the patricians laid aside their gold rings and took off the red border of their dresses which marked their rank; the plebeians appeared in mourning garbs; there was as much weeping for those who had returned in dishonor as for those left dead on the field; all rejoicings, festivals, and marriages were set aside for a year of happier omen.
The final result was such as might have been expected from the earlier record of Rome. The senate refused to recognize the treaty. The defeated consuls themselves sustained this bad faith, saying that they and all the officers should be given up to the Samnites, as having promised what they were unable to perform.
This was done. Half stripped, as when they pa.s.sed under the yoke, and their hands bound behind their backs, the officers were conducted by the fecialis to the Samnian frontier, and delivered to the Samnites as men who had forfeited their liberty by their breach of faith. The surrender completed, Postumius, one of the consuls, struck a fecialis violently with his knee,--his hands and feet being bound,--and cried out,--
"I now belong to the Samnites, and I have done violence to the sacred person of a Roman fecialis and amba.s.sador. You will rightfully wage war with us, Romans, to avenge this outrage."
This transparent trick was wasted on Pontius. He refused the victims offered him. They were not the guilty ones, he said. The legions must be placed again in the Caudium Valley, or Rome keep the treaty. Anything else would be base and faithless.
The treaty was not kept. The war went on. And nearly thirty years afterwards, as we have told in the preceding story, Pontius, who had behaved so generously to the Romans, was led as a prisoner in a Roman triumph, and then basely beheaded while the triumphal car of the victor ascended the Capitoline Hill. His death is one of the darkest blots on the Roman name. "Such a murder," we are told, "committed or sanctioned by such a man as Q. Fabius, is peculiarly a national crime, and proves but too clearly that in their dealings with foreigners the Romans had neither magnanimity, nor humanity, nor justice."
_THE FATE OF REGULUS._
We have followed the growth of Rome from its seed in the cradle of Romulus and Remus to its early maturity in the conquest of Italy. Its triumph over the Latins, Samnites, and Etruscans had made it virtually master of that peninsula. In the year 280 B.C. it was first called upon to meet a great foreign soldier in the celebrated Pyrrhus of Epirus, who had invaded Italy. How this great soldier scared the Romans with his elephants and defeated them in the field, but was finally baffled and left the country in disgust, we have told in "Historical Tales of Greece." It was not many years after this that Rome herself went abroad in search of new foes, and her long and bitter struggle with Carthage began.
The great city of Carthage lay on the African side of the Mediterranean, where it had won for itself a great empire, and had added to its dominion by important conquests in Spain and Sicily. Settled many centuries before by emigrants from the Phoenician city of Tyre, it had, like its mother city, grown rich through commerce, and was now lord of the Mediterranean and one of the great cities of the earth. With this city Rome was now to begin a mighty struggle, which would last for many years and end in the utter destruction of the great African city and state.
Pyrrhus of Epirus, on leaving Sicily, had said, "What a grand arena this would be for Rome and Carthage to contend upon!" And it was in the island of Sicily that the struggle between these two mighty powers began. In the year 264 B.C., nearly five centuries after the founding of Rome, that city first sent its armies beyond the borders of Italy, and the long contest between Rome and Carthage was inaugurated.
Some soldiers of fortune, who had invaded Sicily and found themselves in trouble, called upon Rome for help. Carthage, which held much of the island, was also appealed to, and both sent armies. The result was a collision between these armies. In two years" time most of Sicily belonged to Rome, and Carthage retained hardly a foothold upon that island.
This rapid success of the Romans in foreign conquest encouraged them greatly. But they were soon to find themselves at a disadvantage. Being an inland power, they knew nothing of ocean warfare, and possessed none but small ships. Carthage, on the contrary, had a large and powerful fleet, and now began to use it with great effect. By its aid the Carthaginians took from Rome many towns on the coast of Sicily. They also landed on and ravaged the coasts of Italy. It was made evident to the Roman senate that if they looked for success they must meet the enemy on their own element, and dispute with Carthage the dominion of the sea.
How was this to be done? The largest ships they knew of had only three banks of oars. Carthage possessed war vessels with five banks of oars, and built on a plan different from that of the smaller vessels. Rome had no model for these ships, and was at a loss what to do. Fortunately a Carthaginian quinquereme (a ship with five banks of oars) ran ash.o.r.e on the coast of Italy, and was captured and sent to Rome. This served as a model for the shipwrights of that city, and so energetically did they set to work that in two months after the first cutting of the timber they had built and launched more than a hundred ships of this cla.s.s.
And while the ships were building the crews selected for the quinqueremes were practising. Most of them had never even seen an oar, and they were now placed on benches ash.o.r.e, ranged like those in the ships, and carefully taught the movements of rowing, so that when the ships were launched they were quite ready to drive them through the waves. The Romans, who could fight best hand to hand, added a new and important device, providing their ships with wooden bridges attached to the masts, and ready to fall on an enemy"s vessel whenever one came near. A great spike at the end was driven into the deck of the enemy"s ship by the weight of the falling bridge, and held her while the Romans charged across the bridge.
The new fleet was soon tried. It met a Carthaginian fleet on the north coast of Sicily. The Romans proved poor sailors, but the bridges gave them the victory. These could be wheeled round the mast and dropped in any direction, and, however the Carthaginians approached, they found themselves grappled and boarded by the Romans, whose formidable swords soon did the rest. In the end Carthage lost fifty ships and ten thousand men, and with them the dominion of the seas.
This success was a great event in the history of Rome. The victory was celebrated by a great naval triumph, and a column was set up in the Forum, which was adorned with the ornamental prows of ships.
Three years afterwards Rome resolved to carry the war into Africa, and for this purpose built a great fleet of three hundred and thirty ships, and manned by one hundred and forty thousand seamen, in addition to its soldiers or fighting men. These were largely made up of prisoners from Sardinia and Corsica, Carthaginian islands which had been attacked by the Roman fleets. The two consuls in command were L. Manlius Vulso and M. Atilius Regulus.
The great fleet of Rome met a still greater Carthaginian one at Ecnomus, on the southern coast of Sicily, and here one of the greatest sea-fights of history took place. In the end the Romans lost twenty-four ships, while of those of the enemy thirty were sunk and sixty-four captured.
The remainder of the enemy"s fleet fled in all haste to Carthage.
The Romans now prepared to take one of the greatest steps in their history,--to cross the sea to the unknown African world. The soldiers murmured loudly at this. They were to be taken to a new and strange land, burnt by scorching heats and infested with noisome beasts and monstrous serpents; and they were to be led into the very stronghold of the enemy, where they would be at their mercy. Even one of their tribunes supported the soldiers in this complaint. But Regulus was equal to the occasion: he threatened the tribune with death, forced the soldiers on board, and sailed for the African coast.
The event proved very different from what the soldiers had feared. The army of Carthage was so miserably commanded that the Romans landed without trouble and ravaged the country at their will; and instead of the scorching heats and deadly animals they had feared, they found themselves in a fertile and thickly-settled country, where grew rich harvests of corn, and where were broad vineyards and fruitful orchards of figs and olives. Towns were numerous, and villas of wealthy citizens covered the hills.
On this rich and undefended country the hungry Roman army was let loose.
Villas were plundered and burnt, horses and cattle driven off in vast numbers, and twenty thousand persons, many of them doubtless of wealth and rank, were carried away to be sold as slaves. Meanwhile the army of Carthage lurked on the hills, and was defeated wherever encountered.
Regulus, who had been left in sole command of the Roman army, overran the country without opposition, and boasted that he had taken and plundered more than three hundred walled towns or villages.
The Carthaginians, who were also attacked by roving desert tribes, who proved even worse than the Romans, were in distress, and begged for peace. But the terms offered by Regulus were so intolerable that it was impossible to accept them. "Men who are good for anything should either conquer or submit to their betters," said Regulus, haughtily. He had not yet learned how unwise it is to drive a strong foe to desperation, and was to pay dearly for his arrogance and pride.
The tide of war turned when Carthage obtained a general fit to command an army. An officer who had been sent to Greece for soldiers of fortune brought with him on his return a Spartan named Xanthippus, a man who had been trained in the rigid Spartan discipline and had played his part well in the wars of Greece. He openly and strongly condemned the conduct of the generals of Carthage; and, on his words being reported to the government, he was sent for, and so clearly pointed out the causes of the late disasters that the direction of all the forces of Carthage was placed in his hands.
And now a new spirit awakened in Carthage. Xanthippus reviewed the troops, taught them how they should meet the Roman charge, and filled them with such enthusiasm and hope that loud shouts broke from the ranks, and they eagerly demanded to be led at once to battle.
The army numbered only twelve thousand foot, but had four thousand cavalry and a hundred elephants, in which much confidence was placed.
The demand of the soldiers was complied with; they boldly marched out, and now no longer to the hills, but to the lower ground, where the devastation of the enemy was at once checked.
Regulus was forced to risk a battle, for his supply of food was in peril. He marched out and encamped within a mile of the foe. The Carthaginian generals, on seeing these hardy Roman legions, so long victorious, were stricken with something like panic. But the soldiers were eager to fight, and Xanthippus bade the wavering generals not to lose so precious an opportunity. They yielded, and bade him to draw up the army on his own plan.
In the battle that ensued the victory was due to the cavalry and elephants. The cavalry drove that of Italy from the field, and attacked the Roman rear. The elephants broke through the Roman lines in front, furiously trampling the bravest underfoot. Those who penetrated the line of the elephants were cut to pieces by the Carthaginian infantry. Of the whole Roman army, two thousand of the left wing alone escaped; Regulus, with five hundred others, fled, but was pursued and taken prisoner; the remainder of the army was destroyed to a man. The defeat was total. Rome retained but a single African port, which was soon given up. Xanthippus, crowned with glory and richly rewarded, returned to Greece to enjoy the fame he had won.
For five years Regulus remained a prisoner in Carthage, while the war went on in Sicily. Here, in the year 250 B.C., the Romans gained an important victory at Panormus (now Palermo), and Carthage, weary of the struggle, sent to Rome to ask for terms of peace. With the amba.s.sadors came Regulus, who had promised to return to Carthage if the negotiations should fail, and whom the Carthaginians naturally expected to use his utmost influence in favor of peace.
They did not know their man. Regulus proved himself one of those indomitable patriots of whom there are few examples in the ages. On reaching the walls of Rome he refused at first to enter, saying that he was no longer a citizen, and had lost his rights in that city. When the amba.s.sadors of Carthage had offered their proposal to the senate, Regulus, who had remained silent, was ordered by the senate to give his opinion of the proposed treaty. Thus commanded, he astonished all who heard by strongly advising the senate not to make the treaty. He might die for his words, he might perish in torture, but the good of his country was dearer to him than his own life, and he would not counsel a treaty that might prove of advantage to the enemy. He even spoke against an exchange of prisoners, saying that he had not long to live, having, he believed, been given a secret poison by his captors, and would not make a fair exchange for a hale and hearty Carthaginian general.
Such an instance of self-abnegation has rarely been heard of in history.
It has made Regulus famous for all time. His advice was taken, the treaty was refused; he, refusing to break his parole, or even to see his family, returned to Carthage with the amba.s.sadors, knowing that he was going to his death. The rulers of that city, so it is said, furious that the treaty had been rejected through his advice, resolved to revenge themselves on him by horrible tortures. His eyelids were cut off, and he was exposed to the full glare of the African sun. He was then placed in a cask driven full of nails, and left there to die.
It is fortunate to be able to say that there is no historical warrant for this story of torture, or for the companion story that the wife and son of Regulus treated two Carthaginian prisoners in the same manner. We have reason to believe that it is untrue, and that Regulus suffered no worse tortures than those of shame, exile, and imprisonment.
_HANNIBAL CROSSES THE ALPS._