CHAPTER XI.
THE TWO HASDRUBALS.
Cleanor found the streets of Carthage in a state of the wildestconfusion. The news that had brought him back thither in such hot hastehad made a profound impression upon the city itself. The name of Scipiowas no less powerful a charm at Carthage than it was at Rome. Only itspelt defeat and ruin in Africa, while in Italy it seemed a sure auguryof success. Still, the spirit of the nation was not broken. It was oneof the characteristics of the great family of mankind to which thepeople of Carthage belonged to fight desperately when driven to stand atbay. The longest, the most stubbornly defended sieges in history havebeen when some Semitic people has been reduced to its last stronghold.
The Punic race was now prepared to show the same fierce, unyielding furyof resistance with which, some two centuries later, their Jewish kinsmenwere to meet the overpowering assault of the same enemy. One step, nottaken without reluctance, but absolutely demanded by the necessities ofthe situation, was to bring within the walls the army that up to thistime had been encamped outside. This force was largely, indeed almostwholly, composed of mercenaries, and Carthage never trusted hermercenaries more than she could help. She had had frequent difficultieswith them; once she had been brought by their rebellion almost to ruin.It was a law, accordingly, that they should never be admitted in anygreat number within the walls. This law had now, perforce, to berepealed. It would be rash to risk a battle in the field, when defeatwould mean so much; on the other hand, the defences of the city neededall the men that could be found, if they were to be adequatelygarrisoned.
Cleanor on his arrival found that the process of moving the outside armyinto the city was in full swing. The roads that led to the gates werethronged with a motley multitude, for Carthage drew her hired soldiersfrom a very wide area indeed. There was every variety of hue, from thefair-haired son of Celt or Teuton of Northern Europe, to thethick-lipped, woolly-haired, ebony-coloured negroes, who had been drawnby the report of Carthaginian wealth from remote regions even beyond theDesert. The languages which they spoke were as various as theircomplexions. It had been said by a writer who told the story of thegreat revolt of the mercenaries a hundred years before,[31] that theonly word which they had in common was some equivalent of to "kill".They were still as polyglot, and, so at least it seemed to Cleanor,almost as savage. Much of the talk that he overheard as he made his wayalong the crowded roads was unintelligible to him, but he understoodenough to make him sure that anger and suspicion were rife among them.
He had intended to propose himself as a guest of the Hasdrubal whocommanded the forces within the walls. Hasdrubal was a grandson of KingMasinissa, and would be certain to give him a friendly reception. But itwas so late in the evening before he could disentangle himself from thethrong that blocked all the approaches to the city, that he decided topostpone till the morrow the delivery of his credentials. Under thesecircumstances he was glad to accept the invitation of Gisco, whom myreaders may remember as a staff-officer of the other Hasdrubal, to sharehis quarters. These were in the guest-hall attached to the palace of thehigh-priest of Melcart.
A large company of officers was present at the evening meal, and whenthe wine, which for flavour and strength was fully worthy of priestlycellars, had passed round, there was little reserve in the conversation.Cleanor's presence was unnoticed, or, possibly, as the guest and friendof Gisco, he was supposed to be in sympathy with the views held by therest of the company. It soon became abundantly clear to the listenerthat feeling was running very high against the Hasdrubal who commandedthe city army.
"I don't like the breed," said one of Cleanor's neighbours. "He has gotmore than enough of Masinissa's blood in him, and Masinissa, I take it,was about the worst enemy that Carthage ever had."
For anything more definite Cleanor listened in vain. It seemed to betaken for granted that a man with this parentage could not be faithfulto his country. That he had betrayed Carthage no one ventured to assert.No one could even bring up against him any instance of mistake ornegligence. It was not even denied that he had managed the defence ofthe city with distinguished success. Certainly no such disaster could belaid to his charge as the crushing defeat which the other Hasdrubal hadreceived some four years before at the hands of King Masinissa. Theyoung Greek had forcibly to repress a strong inclination to speak up forthe accused; but he saw that his interference would be useless. Thebest, in fact the only service that he could do to the unfortunate manwas to warn him of his danger.
The question was how the warning was to be given. It was hardly possibleto leave the guest-house that night. Sentinels had been placed at thedoors, and these could not be passed without the watchword, and this hedid not happen to know. All that he could do was to take care that notime should be lost in the morning. Fortunately Gisco, whose chamber heshared,--the guest-house being crowded with company to its fullestcapacity,--was the officer on guard for the next day. Just before dawnan orderly roused him from his sleep, and, giving him the watchword forthe day, communicated to himself overnight, left him, to relieve thesentries.
Half an hour afterwards, Cleanor, having satisfied the challenge of thesentinel, passed out by the gate, and, hastening through the desertedstreets, made the best of his way to the mansion of Hasdrubal. So littledid that general suspect any danger that he had not even taken theprecaution of placing a sentinel at his gate. The sleepy porter admittedCleanor without asking a question, though not without a grumble at theunseasonableness of so early a visit.
The huge negro who slept outside the general's door did not let him passso readily. As the man did not understand a word of either Carthaginian,Latin, or Greek,--no bad qualification for an official who had to refusetroublesome visitors,--argument was useless. Cleanor, who felt that nota moment must be lost in rousing the general, raised his voice to itsloudest, with the result that in another minute Hasdrubal opened thedoor of his chamber.
He had a slight acquaintance with the Greek, knew his story, and had ageneral idea of the mission from which he had just returned.
"Come in," he said, "you are welcome. And you"--turning to the negroattendant--"fetch two cups of _mulsum_[32]."
Cleanor briefly stated the cause of his visit, and Hasdrubal heard himwith undisturbed calm.
"I hardly know," he said, when the story was finished, "whether I amsurprised or not. I must own that I did not expect this particular formof attack, but I did expect that my namesake would do his best to oustme from my place as soon as he had orders to bring his troops within thewalls. I quite see that now, when all our army is brought together intoone, there must be one general, and I should have been ready to resign.But after what you have told me I must face it out; to resign would bealmost to acknowledge that there is something in what these knaves, andthe fools that follow them, say. There is to be a meeting of the Senateat noon to-day, and the question of the Command is down for debate. Ofcourse I shall be there. So much for that; but you must understand thatI am immensely obliged to you. I had intended to offer you a post on mystaff, but, as things are at present, the less you have to do with asuspected man the better for you. If things turn out more favourablythan I fear they may--we will certainly talk of this again."
"But, sir," broke in the Greek with some heat, "it is surely impossiblethat the Senate should listen to such palpable absurdities as this. Why,there is not a general in Carthage who has such a record of successes asyours."
"My dear young friend," replied the general, "you don't know us. TheCarthaginians always suspect their generals. We always fight with arope, so to speak, round our necks. If we are victorious they fear thatwe shall become too powerful, and protect themselves by the stroke of adagger or a pinch of poison in our wine. If we are defeated, there isthe usual penalty. They crucify us by way of an encouragement to oursuccessors. It is not revenge, it is suspicion that moves them. Theycannot imagine that they can be beaten except by treachery. It is aterrible mistake, and Carthage suffers for it by being far worse servedthan Rome. Rome has a
plan that looks like the merest folly. She takes aman because he is popular with the shopmen and artisans of the city andthe farmers from the country, and puts him to command her armies. Yet itworks well, because the Romans trust each other. What a splendid thingit was that they did when their Consul Varro as nearly as possiblebrought them to ruin by losing their army at Cannæ! The Senate and thepeople went out to meet him, and thanked him for not despairing of theRepublic. And indeed a Republic where such things are possible neednever be despaired of. But it is useless to talk. And now for yourself.Get away from this house as soon as you can, and go by the private doorwhich the negro will show you. No; not another word. Carthage will notlet me serve her any more, but she need not lose you also. Farewell!"
Hasdrubal touched a small gong which stood by his bed, and when thenegro appeared in answer to the summons gave him the brief instruction:
"The postern-gate for this gentleman."
Cleanor followed his guide, and in a short time was shown out into anunfrequented lane which ran at the back of Hasdrubal's house. He reachedhis quarters before the other guests had commenced their morning meal.
The prudent course for him to follow was, obviously, to stand aside andwatch the progress of events. Yet such prudence was alien to his temper.Hasdrubal was the hereditary friend of his family, and he was related tothe old king from whom Cleanor had received such unexpected kindness.There was but the faintest chance that he should be able to give himany help; but to Cleanor it seemed ungrateful, and even inhuman, tostand aloof. But what was he to do? To begin with, he was met with whatseemed an insuperable difficulty--the meetings of the Senate were ofcourse private. How was he to gain admission? This obstacle, however,was soon removed. Gisco brought him a message from his chief that he hadbeen summoned to attend a meeting of the Senate, and desired hisattendance as one of his body-guard.
The meeting of the Senate, held as usual in the temple of Baal-Hammon,otherwise known as Moloch, was an imposing scene. On two thrones in theeastern semicircular recess of the building--corresponding to thesanctuary in the Hebrew temple or the chancel or apse in a Christianchurch--sat the two kings or Shophetim, wearing robes of the richestTyrian purple, with richly-jewelled diadems on their heads. Facing themwere semicircular benches, crowded with the members of the Inner Senate,as it may be called. Scarcely one of the Hundred--this was the number towhich it was limited--was absent from his post. Further removed wereother benches similarly arranged, and set apart for the Four Hundred orOuter Senate. It was evident at once that, whatever might be the usualcustom, this meeting at least was not private. The body of the templewas filled with a vast crowd, separated from the assembly itself bynothing more than a slight barrier of wood. Hasdrubal of the Camp, as wemay call him by way of distinction, was seated just within this; hisbody-guard were ranged close behind him, but on the outer side of thebarrier. The other Hasdrubal occupied his usual place as one of theInner Senate.
The proceedings of the day having been opened with the customaryceremonies, the senior king called upon Mago, son of Hamilcar, to bringforward the motion of which he had given notice. Mago, an elderly man,whose countenance greatly belied him if he was not an incarnation of thePunic bad faith which had passed into a proverb, rose in his place andmade a speech of studied moderation.
"Rumours," he said, "have for some days been current in the city thatCarthage is not faithfully served by some of those to whom she hascommitted offices of great dignity and importance. One man has beenspecially pointed to. For my part I refuse to believe that a soldierwho has often distinguished himself in the field can be unfaithful tothe country which he has served so well. But the best service that canbe rendered to a man accused--may I not say calumniated?--is to givehim the opportunity of defence. I accordingly move that Hasdrubal, sonof Mago--for why should I refrain from mentioning a name which is onthe lips of everyone?--be called upon to give to the Senate anyexplanations that he may think proper to make."
An approving murmur ran through the crowd when the speaker sat down. Theaccused man rose in his place,--but before he could speak anothersenator had intervened.
"I do not see," said this senator, "that Hasdrubal, son of Mago, hasanything to explain. No evidence has been brought against him. I havenot even heard any charge, except it be that there are rumours againsthim. What man is there against whom there are not rumours? And thebetter the man the more malignant the rumours. I move that the Senateproceed to the next business."
A murmur, not by any means of approval, rose from the crowd. Hasdrubal,who had resumed his seat while the last speaker was addressing theSenate, rose again.
"I have nothing to explain," he said. "You know me, who I am, and what Ihave done."
"Yes, we know you!" cried a voice from the crowd. "The grandson of thataccursed brigand, Masinissa."
The name was met with a howl of fury from the multitude, followed bydeafening cries of "Brigand!" "Traitor!" Hasdrubal faced the uproarwithout flinching. But it was an hour of such madness as makes men blindand deaf to all that might appeal to their better feelings. Somethingmight be said, not in excuse, but in explanation of the frenzy. Animperial race, reared in traditions of greatness, felt itself to beapproaching the hour of servitude or extinction, and it raged like awild beast in a net. Nothing that came within reach of its fury waslikely to be spared. The multitude surged forward, the wooden barriergave way, and the inclosed space assigned to the senators was crowded inan instant with a raging crowd.
Cleanor caught one glimpse of the doomed man's face, pale but stillresolute. The next moment it had disappeared.
He sprang forward, crying, "Save him!" though, unarmed as he was, for noweapon was allowed within the building, he felt miserably helpless. Infact, he could have done nothing, and, fortunately for himself, he wasnot even permitted to try. His arms were seized from behind, and a cloakwas thrown over his head. The next moment he felt himself lifted fromthe ground, and carried, he knew not whither. He could not evenstruggle, for both arms and legs had been deftly secured, while hisvoice was choked by the covering that enveloped his head.
When, half an hour afterwards, the cloak was removed, he found himselfin a small chamber, with no companion but a slave, who was apparently adeaf-mute, as lie replied to all questions with the single gesture ofputting his finger on his lips.
In the course of another half-hour Gisco appeared.
"My dear fellow," he said, "pardon this violence, which would, indeed,be inexcusable, if it had not been the only way of saving your life.Believe me, you have friends who will soon, I hope, find more agreeableways of showing their good-will than they were forced to this morning.You have been watched ever since you came into Carthage, though you havenot known it. The council have spies everywhere, and they know theirbusiness. They knew that you were a friend of Hasdrubal, and felt surethat you would do your best to help him. They followed you to his house,they heard what you said to him and he to you, and they brought thereport to the chief. He has a great liking for you, and gave me _carteblanche_ to do what I pleased, if only I could keep you out of danger.So, if there has been anything rude in the method of saving you, it is Iwhom you must blame. Believe me, you would have sacrificed yourself fornothing. It was impossible to save Hasdrubal. The fact is, he ought tohave taken warning long ago, for warning he has had in plenty. Again andagain he has been told that a grandson of Masinissa could never be safein Carthage, and he ought to have gone long ago. Mind, I say nothingagainst him. He was obstinate, but it was a noble obstinacy. He knewhimself to be blameless, and he wanted to save Carthage."
"And what has happened to him?" asked Cleanor.
"The worst, I fear," answered Gisco; "but more I really do not know. Iwas busy with your affair, and saw nothing."
Cleanor heard the shocking story afterwards from an eye-witness. Thecrowd, led by some of the senators--his informant was positive on thepoint that some of the senators had a hand in the deed--had torn up thebenches from their fastenings, broken them into fragments, and
beatenthe unfortunate man to death. The victim had made no resistance--had noteven uttered a cry.
FOOTNOTES:
31: 241 B.C.
32: This was a drink made out of wine (mixed with water) and honey. It was frequently taken (warm) early in the day, being considered a wholesome draught for an empty stomach.
Lords of the World: A story of the fall of Carthage and Corinth Page 13