Scipio Africanus (13 page)

These emergency measures were completed before the enemy's attack came, thanks first to the slow sailing of the Carthaginian fleet, and their further delay in offering battle in the open sea. Thus they were forced to sail in against the Romans' unexpected type of formation, like ships attacking a wall. Their weight of numbers, too, was partly discounted by the fact of the transports being higher out of the water, so that the Carthaginians had to throw their weapons upwards, and the Romans, conversely, gained additional impetus and better aim through casting their missiles from a superior height. But the device of sending patrol-boats and light craft out through the intervals to harass the Carthaginian ships—a device obviously adapted by Scipio from military tactics—failed of its effect, and proved an actual handicap to the defence. For when they went out to harass the approaching warships they were run down
by the mere momentum and bulk of the latter, and in the later stages became so intermingled with the Carthaginian ships as to mask the fire of the troops on the transports.

Beaten off in their direct assaults, the Carthaginians tried a new measure, throwing long beams with iron hooks at the end on to the Roman transports, these beams being secured by chains to their own vessels. By this means the fastenings were broken, and a number of transports dragged away, the troops manning them having barely time to leap on to the second line of ships. Only one line had been broken, and the opposition had been so severe that the Carthaginians contented themselves with this limited success, and sailed back to Carthage. They towed away six captured transports, though doubtless more were broken adrift and lost by the Romans.

Baulked in this quarter, the Carthaginians' hopes were shattered in another, for the pursuing force sent by Scipio after Syphax had fulfilled its object and finally cut away this prop of Carthaginian power in Africa. The success went still further, as it gained for Scipio that Numidian source of man-power which he had so long schemed for, and which he needed to build up his forces to an adequate strength for his decisive blow.

Following up Syphax, Lælius and Masinissa arrived in Massylia (Masinissa's hereditary kingdom from which he had been driven) after a fifteen days' march, and there expelled the garrisons left by Syphax. The latter had fallen back farther east to his own dominions, Massæsylia—modern Algeria,—and there, spurred on by his wife, raised a fresh force from the abundant resources of his kingdom. He proceeded to organise them on the Roman model, imagining, like so many military copyists in history, that imitation of externals gave him the secret of the Roman success. His force was large enough—as large, in fact, as his original strength,—but it was utterly raw and undisciplined. With this he advanced to meet Lælius and Masinissa. At the first encounter between the opposing cavalry, numerical superiority told, but the advantage was lost when the Roman infantry reinforced the intervals of their cavalry, and before long the raw troops broke and fled. The victory was essentially one due to superior training and discipline, and not to any subtle manoeuvre such as appears in all Scipio's battles. This is worth note in view of the fact that some historians lose no opportunity of hinting that Scipio's success was due more to his able lieutenants than to himself.

Syphax, seeing his force crumbling, sought to
shame his men into resistance by riding forward and exposing himself to danger. In this gallant attempt he was unhorsed, made prisoner, and dragged into the presence of Lælius. As Livy remarks, this was“ a spectacle calculated to afford peculiar satisfaction to Masinissa.” The latter showed fine military spirit as well as judgment after the battle, when he declared to Lælius that, much as he would like to visit his regained kingdom, “it was not proper in prosperity any more than in adversity to lose time.” He therefore asked permission to push on with the cavalry to Cirta, Syphax's capital, while Lælius followed with the infantry. Having won Lælius's assent, Masinissa advanced, taking Syphax with him. On arrival in front of Cirta, he summoned the principal inhabitants to appear, but they refused until he showed them Syphax in chains, whereupon the faint-hearted threw open the gates. Masinissa, posting guards, galloped off to seize the palace, and was met by Sophonisba. This woman, almost as famous as Helen or Cleopatra for her beauty and for her disastrous influence, made such a clever appeal to his pride, his pity, and his passion, that she not only won his pledge not to hand her over to the Romans, but“ as the Numidians are an excessively amorous race, he became the slave of his captive.” When she had withdrawn, and he had
to face the problem of how to reconcile his duty with his pledge, his passion suggested to him a loophole—to marry her himself that very day. When Lælius came up he was so annoyed that at first he was on the point of having her dragged from the marriage-bed and sent with the other captives to the Utica camp, but afterwards relented, agreeing to leave the decision to Scipio. The two then set to work on the reduction of the remaining towns in Numidia, which were still garrisoned by the troops of Syphax.

When the captives arrived at Scipio's camp, Syphax himself in chains at their head, the troops poured out to see the spectacle. What a contrast with a few years back! Now, a captive in chains; then, a powerful ruler who held the balance of power, for whose friendship Scipio and Hasdrubal vied on their simultaneous visits, both placing themselves in his power, so highly did they assess the prize at stake.

This thought evidently passed through Scipio's mind, the recollection, too, of their quondam friendship, and moved him to sympathy. He questioned Syphax as to the motives that had led him to break his pledge of alliance with the Romans and make war on them unprovoked. Syphax, gaining confidence from Scipio's manner, replied that he had been mad to do so, but that taking up arms was only the consummation
of his frenzy, and not its beginning, which dated from his marriage to Sophonisba. “That fury and pest” had fascinated and blinded him to his undoing. But ruined and fallen as he was, he declared that he gained some consolation from seeing her fatal lures transferred to his greatest enemy.

These words caused Scipio great anxiety, for he appreciated both her influence and the menace to the Roman plans from Masinissa's hasty wedding. She had detached one passionate Numidian; she might well lead astray another. When Lælius and Masinissa arrived shortly after, Scipio showed no signs of his feelings in his public greeting, praising both in the highest terms for their work. But as soon as possible he took Masinissa aside privately. His talk with the delinquent was a masterpiece of tact and psychological appeal. “ I suppose, Masinissa, that it was because you saw in me some good qualities that you first came to me when in Spain for the purpose of forming a friendship with me, and that afterwards in Africa you committed yourself and all your hopes to my protection. But of all those virtues, which made me seem worthy of your regard, there is none of which I am so proud as temperance and control of my passions.” Then pointing out the dangers caused by want of self-control,
he continued: “I have mentioned with delight, and I remember with pleasure, the instances of fortitude and courage you displayed in my absence. As to other matters, I would rather that you should reflect on them in private, than that I should cause you to blush by reciting them.” Then, with a final call to Masinissa's sense of duty, he dismissed him. Where reproaches might have stiffened Masinissa, such a friendly appeal broke him down, and bursting into tears, he retired to his own tent. Here, after a prolonged inward struggle, he sent for a confidential servant, and ordered him to mix some poison in a cup and carry it to Sophonisba, with the message that “ Masinissa would gladly have fulfilled the first obligation which as a husband he owed to her, his wife; but as those who had the power had deprived him of the exercise of those rights, he now performed his second promise—that she should not come alive into the power of the Romans.” When the servant came to Sophonisba she said, “I accept this nuptial present; nor is it an unwelcome one, if my husband can render me no better service. Tell him, however, that I should have died with greater satisfaction had I not married so near on my death.” Then, calmly and without a quiver, she took and drained the cup.

As soon as Scipio heard the news, fearing that
the high-spirited young man, when so distraught, might take some desperate step, “he immediately sent for him, and at one time endeavoured to solace him, at another gently rebuked him for trying to expiate one rash act with another, and making the affair more tragical than was necessary.”

Next day Scipio sought to erase this grief from Masinissa's mind by a well-calculated appeal to his ambition and pride. Summoning an assembly, he first saluted Masinissa by the title of king, speaking in the highest terms of his achievements, and then presented him with a golden goblet, an ivory sceptre, a curule chair, and other symbols of honour. “He increased the honour by observing that among the Romans there was nothing more magnificent than a ‘triumph,' and that those who received the reward of a ‘ triumph ' were not invested with more splendid ornaments than those of which the Roman people considered Masinissa alone, of all foreigners, worthy.” This action, and the encouragement to his dreams of becoming master of all Numidia, had the desired effect, and Masinissa speedily forgot his private sorrows in his public distinction. Lælius, whom Scipio had been careful to praise similarly and reward, was then sent with Syphax and the other captives back to Rome.

CHAPTER X.

A VIOLATED PEACE.

HIS political base in Africa secured, Scipio moved back to Tunis, and this time the moral threat, strengthened by recent events, was successful. It tilted the scales against the war party, and the Carthaginians sent thirty of their principal elders—the Council of Elders being superior even to the Senate—to beg for terms of peace. According to Livy, they prostrated themselves in Eastern manner on entering Scipio's presence, and their pleas showed equal humility. They implored pardon for their State, saying that it had been twice brought to the brink of ruin by the rashness of its citizens, and they hoped it would again owe its safety to the indulgence of its enemies. This hope was based on their knowledge that the Roman people's aim was dominion, and not destruction, and they declared that they would accept whatever terms he saw fit to grant. Scipio replied “ that he had come to Africa with the hope, which had been increased
by his success, that he should carry home victory and not terms of peace. Still, though he had victory in a manner within his grasp, he would not refuse accommodation, that all the nations might know that the Roman people both undertake and conclude wars with justice.”

The terms which he laid down were: the restoration of all prisoners and deserters, the withdrawal of the Carthaginian armies from Italy and Gaul and all the Mediterranean islands, the giving up of all claim to Spain, the surrender of all their warships except twenty. A considerable, but not heavy, indemnity in grain and money was also demanded. He gave them three days' grace to decide whether to accept these terms, adding that if they accepted they were to make a truce with him and send envoys to the Senate at Rome.

The moderation of these terms is remarkable, especially considering the completeness of Scipio's military success. It is a testimony not only to Scipio's greatness of soul, but to his transcendent political vision. Viewed in conjunction with his similar moderation after Zama, it is not too much to say that Scipio had a clear grasp of what is just dawning on the mind of the world to-day—that the true national object in war, as in peace, is a more perfect peace. War is the result of a menace to this policy, and is undertaken in order
to remove the menace, and by the subjugation of the will of the hostile State“ to change this adverse will into a compliance with our own policy, and the sooner and more cheaply in lives and in money we can do this, the better chance is there of a continuance of national prosperity in the widest sense. The aim of a nation in war is, therefore, to subdue the enemy's will to resist with the least possible human and economic loss to itself.”
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The lesson of history, of very recent history moreover, enables us to deduce this axiom, that“ A military victory is not in itself equivalent to success in war.”
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Further, as regards the peace terms, “the contract must be reasonable; for to compel a beaten foe to agree to terms which cannot be fulfilled is to sow the seeds of a war which one day will be declared in order to cancel the contract.”
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There is only one alternative—annihilation. Mommsen's comment on Scipio's moderation over these terms is that they“ seemed so singularly favourable to Carthage, that the question obtrudes itself whether they were offered by Scipio more in his own interest or in that of Rome.” A self-centred seeker after popularity
would surely have prolonged the war to end it with a spectacular military decision, rather than accept the paler glory of a peace by agreement. But Mommsen's insinuation, as also his judgment, is contradicted by Scipio's similar moderation after Zama, despite the extreme provocation of a broken treaty.