by Ben Kane
Many readers will know the broad brushstrokes of Hannibal’s war with Rome; others will know less; a very few will be voracious readers of the ancient authors Livy and Polybius, the main sources for this period. For the record, I have done my best to stick to the historical details that have survived. In places, however, I have either changed events slightly to fit in with the story’s development, or invented things. Such is the novelist’s remit, as well as his/her curse. I apologise now for any errors that I may have made.
The term ‘Italy’ was in use in the third century BC as a geographical expression; it encompassed the entire peninsula south of Cisalpine Gaul. The term did not become a political one until Polybius’ time (mid second century BC). I decided to use it anyway. It simplified matters, and avoided constant reference to the different parts of the Republic: Rome, Campania, Latium, Lucania, etc.
A reasonable amount of information survives about the Roman army of the third century BC, but when writing about it, one often has to make assumptions and logical leaps of faith. The same applies to the Carthaginian and the Syracusan armies. We have some details about Roman funerals – I used them to the best of my ability in this book. Another obstacle course that I had to negotiate concerned Carthaginian names. Not many have survived the test of time, and most of those that have are unpronounceable, or sound awful. Hillesbaal and Ithobaal don’t exactly roll off the tongue. I had to use Muttumbaal, however. There’s a modern ring to the nickname ‘Mutt’! There were a number of important historical characters called Hanno, but I desperately needed a good name for my hero, so he took precedence.
The prologue of the novel begins soon after the second title in the series, Hannibal: Fields of Blood, ended. Maharbal’s prophetic warning to Hannibal is recorded. Rome’s response to Hannibal’s envoys, soon after, gives us an indication of their people’s determination, even in the depths of defeat. When the Carthaginian embassy reached Rome, they were refused entry to the city and told that the Republic would never treat with an enemy still on Roman or allied soil. Furthermore, ransom for the high-ranking prisoners held by Hannibal was denied, condemning eight thousand unfortunates to execution or a life enslaved. Rome’s harsh stances towards its own continued: the legionaries who had survived Cannae were shipped in disgrace to Sicily, and banned from returning to Italy for the rest of their lives.
The main action of this novel doesn’t start until 213 BC, when much of the conflict was taking place on Sicily. I had the privilege of visiting the island in March 2013, when I took in as many of the plentiful historical sites as I could. Sicily is the most remarkable place, and what can be found there equals anything on the Italian mainland. The history of conquest on Sicily stretches back nearly three thousand years. It was colonised by Greeks, which explains why the inhabitants of Syracuse and other towns spoke that tongue, and also by Carthaginians. This explains my use of Greek-spelt words, such as the River ‘Anapos’, rather than River ‘Anapus’, which is the Romanised version. The city of Akragas was not renamed Agrigento until it fell to the Romans, after the end of this novel.
By the fourth century BC, Carthage had vanquished the western third of the island. Conflict continued throughout much of the rest of Sicily, but Syracuse remained fiercely independent. During the First Punic War (264–241 BC), Syracuse’s dictator Hiero took the side of the Roman Republic. He remained a loyal ally of Rome until his death, even sending soldiers to Italy to fight against Hannibal. The city’s defences were renowned in ancient times; at the time of the Second Punic War, its walls were more than twenty miles in length. Archimedes really did invent various lethal engines of war, including the ‘iron claw’ that I described; the awesome fortifications at the still-standing Euryalus fort (Castello Eurialo) are also reputed to have been designed by him. The wheel with leather buckets that was used to raise water from a well is a fictional addition to his inventions, but such a device has been found in London and dated to Roman times, so it’s not impossible that a genius like Archimedes could have built one.
If visiting Syracuse, try to see Dionysus’ Ear, the site of a quarry that has been dated to the time of the city’s construction. The marks of the stonemasons’ chisels can be seen within it. Nearby, there is a vast altar upon which more than two hundred bulls were sacrificed around the time of the Second Punic War. Arethusa’s spring, mentioned in ancient documents, is still pumping out fresh water right at the sea’s edge on Ortygia, the island that forms part of central Syracuse. There you can see the only papyrus to grow in Europe.
Hippocrates, Epicydes, Marcellus, Pulcher, Pinarius and Damippus were all genuine historical characters. So too was Attalus, the man who betrayed the conspiracy to open the city’s gates to the Romans. It’s extraordinary that Hippocrates’ and Epicydes’ success in winning over the Syracusan troops near Leontini was down to the fact that the first soldiers they met were Cretan mercenary archers. They had met the brothers when they were being held as captives by Hannibal after the battle of Lake Trasimene. Hannibal’s policy of freeing all non-Roman prisoners paid off in that one respect, if nowhere else. The dramatic events of the first Roman attack on Syracuse, including the ‘sambucae’, is attested, as is the magnitude of their defeat.
The ambush by Marcellus on Hippocrates’ patrol occurred; so too did Hippocrates’ flight to Akragas. The horrific events at Enna happened, in the manner that I have described. It was unusual for the Romans to admit later that the massacre might have better been avoided. Incredibly, the means of taking Syracuse came about thanks to an observant but unknown Roman soldier, who noted the height of the stone blocks at the Galeagra tower. As I described, Marcellus waited until the second night of a festival to Artemis before launching a night-time attack.
There is no direct evidence for the use of whistles in battle by Roman officers. Trumpets and other instruments were used to relay commands. Yet whistles have been found in sites all over the Empire, including in the proximity of the legionary fortress at Regensburg in Germany. In my mind, it’s not too much of a jump from that to have them in the hands of centurions during a battle, as they were used by army officers in wars up until recent times.
We have the film Ben Hur to thank for the inaccurate depiction of drummers on warships setting the speed for the rowers. In real life, flautists or singers were used. My attempt to produce words that sounded like the Gauls’ carnyxes came about after listening repeatedly to John Kenny, a modern musician, playing a modern replica of this vertical trumpet. It sounds terrifying. Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYM0xB5Jrc0.
While the graffiti I described on the wall of a tavern is made up, its style and content very much reflects that found in Pompeii and other places. Take a look at the back of some toilet doors in motorway service stations in the UK and you’ll see that little has changed in two thousand years! Having my characters use the terms ‘brothers’ and ‘boys’ is quite deliberate and accurate. Roman soldiers referred to each other as ‘fratres’ and a letter written by a Centurian in Britain mentioned his ‘boys’.
After the loss of Syracuse to the Romans, the struggle in Sicily continued around the city of Akragas, on the southern coast. When that city fell in 210 BC, those who could fled to Carthage and beyond, and the fighting on Sicily ended. The war was far from over, however. In Iberia, the Scipios fought a bitter contest against various Carthaginian generals, and in Italy, Hannibal continued his attempts to defeat the Republic. The next volume of the series will take place in Iberia, and continue to follow the stories of Hanno, Quintus and Aurelia. I hope that you feel the need to find out what happens to them next. Before I write that tale, however, I intend to travel to Germania. In 9 AD, the Romans lost three legions in the forests there. They fell victim to a magnificently executed ambush by the local tribes. The shocking and unexpected loss had major consequences on the Empire’s policy of expansion. Eagles at War will be the first part of a trilogy, and it will be released in the UK in early 2015.
A bibliography of the textbooks
I used while writing Clouds of War would run to several pages, so I will mention only the most important, in alphabetical order by author: The Punic Wars by Nigel Bagnall; Life and Leisure in Ancient Rome by J. P. Balsdon; The Punic Wars by Brian Caven; The Tyrants of Syracuse by Jeff Champion; Greece and Rome at War by Peter Connolly; Hannibal by Theodore A. Dodge; The Fall of Carthage and Cannae, both by Adrian Goldsworthy; Armies of the Macedonian and Punic Wars by Duncan Head; Hannibal’s War by J. F. Lazenby; Atlas of the Greek World by Peter Levi; The War with Hannibal by Livy; Carthage Must Be Destroyed by Richard Miles; Daily Life in Carthage (at the Time of Hannibal) by G. C. Picard; The Life and Death of Carthage by G. C. & C. Picard; Roman Politics 220–150 BC by H. H. Scullard, Carthage and the Carthaginians by Reginald B. Smith and Warfare in the Classical World by John Warry. My job is made easier because of Osprey Publishing and its numerous excellent volumes, Oxford University Press and its outstanding Oxford Classical Dictionary, and Ancient Warfare magazine (buy it!), which has frequent articles on the time. Thanks, as always, to the members of www.romanarmy.com, whose rapid answers to my odd questions are often of great use. I owe Christian Cameron, the superlative historical fiction author, a big ‘thank you’ and a few beers for help with a number of questions about ancient Greeks. For those of you who spotted Corax’s ritual of snapping his sword in and out of his scabbard before battle – yes, it’s a homage to Ballista, the hero of Harry Sidebottom’s great Warrior of Rome novels. Thanks to him, and to the other members of the #JAFRAfn1 ‘Romani’, the unofficial group of Roman (and Viking) authors, for being my colleagues and more importantly, my friends. That’s you, Anthony (Tony) Riches, Russell Whitfield, Giles Kristian, Doug Jackson, Robert Fabbri, Henry Venmore-Rowland and Nick Brown. If you haven’t read all of their books, you need to!
Here I need to mention the ‘Romani’ walk that I did in April/May 2013, along the line of Hadrian’s Wall. I did it in the full kit of a Second Punic War hastatus, including hobnailed boots. It was for fun, for charity, and because three other madmen agreed to accompany me: the aforementioned Tony Riches and Russ Whitfield, and Dr Mike Bishop, esteemed archaeologist, author and expert on Hadrian’s Wall. If you’re interested in seeing photos of the walk, take a look at my Facebook pages. If you’d like to listen to a podcast of it, head to Mike’s blog at: http://perlineamvalli.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/podcastella/. But I digress. I mentioned the walk for another reason. To help raise money, I was auctioning signed books, signed first editions etc. Then, for whatever reason, I decided to auction a minor character in this book. Whoever bid the largest amount would get to ‘star’ in Clouds of War. The character auction went so well, topping out at over £300, that I decided to do it with a second minor character. So when you read about Quintus’ comrades Mattheus and Gaius Marius, know that they are named for, and roughly based on, a Mr Matthew Craig and a Mr Ryan Yates respectively. Together these great guys donated over £600 to charity. Thank you, Matthew and Ryan, and my apologies for killing you both! Thanks also to Robin Carter, Paul Warren and Ray Brown, for digging deep into your pockets, and helping out, on many occasions. There are a host of other generous people out there who donated or helped in various ways: they’re too numerous to list, but thank you all, very much. Watch out for the Romani Walk 2014, in Italy!
I owe gratitude too to a legion of people at my publishers, Random House. There’s Selina Walker, my wonderful editor, whose eagle eye keeps my work on the straight and narrow; Katherine Murphy, my expert managing editor; Kiwi extraordinaire Aslan Byrne, who gets my novels into every possible UK outlet; Jen Doyle, who devises wonderfully inventive marketing; Richard Ogle, who designs my amazing new-look jackets; Amelia Harvell, ingenious procurer of all kinds of publicity; Caroline Sloan and Nathaniel Alcaraz-Stapleton, who persuade so many foreign editors to buy my books; David Parrish, who makes sure that bookshops abroad do so too. My sincere thanks to you all. Your hard work is very much appreciated.
So many other people must be named: Charlie Viney, my agent, deserves my thanks and gratitude as always. I’m appreciative of Richenda Todd, my copy editor, whose incisive input improves my novels; Claire Wheller, my first class physio, who stops my body from falling to bits after spending too long at my PC; Arthur O’Connor, an old friend, who also supplies excellent criticism of and improvements to my stories. Massive thanks also to you, my loyal readers. It’s you who keep me in a job, for which I am forever grateful. Your emails from all over the world and contacts on Facebook and Twitter brighten up my days: please keep them coming! Last, but most definitely not least, I want to thank Sair, my wonderful wife (.,,,), and Ferdia and Pippa, my lovely children, for the oceans of love and joy that they bring into my world.
Ways to contact me: email: [email protected]
Twitter: @BenKaneAuthor
Facebook: facebook.com/benkanebooks
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fn1 JAFRA stands for Just Another F—Roman Author. We can ‘thank’ Angus ‘the Hood’ Donald for that soubriquet …
Glossary
acetum:
vinegar, the most common disinfectant used by the Romans. Vinegar is excellent at killing bacteria, and its widespread use in western medicine continued from ancient times until late in the nineteenth century.
Aesculapius:
son of Apollo, the god of health and the protector of doctors. Revered by the Greeks, Carthaginians and Romans.
Aetolian Confederacy:
a federal league between the peoples of west-central Greece. In the third century BC, this confederacy was quite powerful. In 212 or 211, the Aetolians became allies of Rome against Philip of Macedon.
agora:
the central meeting area in a Greek city.
Alps:
In Latin, these mountains are called Alpes. Not used in the novel (unlike the Latin names for other geographical features) as it looks ‘strange’ to modern eyes.
amphora (pl. amphorae):
a large, two-handled clay vessel with a narrow neck used to store wine, olive oil and other produce.
Aphrodite:
a Greek goddess associated with human sexuality and reproduction.
Apulia:
a region of southeast Italy roughly equating to modern-day Puglia.
Artemis:
an important Greek goddess associated with many things, including hunting and the rites of passage from childhood to adulthood and parenthood for both women and men.
Asklepios:
the Greek spelling of Aesculapius (see above).
Athena:
the Greek goddess of war.
atrium:
the large chamber immediately beyond the entrance hall in a Roman house. Frequently built on a grand scale, this was the social and devotional centre of the home.
Attic helmet:
a helmet type originating in Greece, which was also widely used elsewhere in the ancient world.
Baal Hammon:
the pre-eminent god at the time of the founding of Carthage. He was the protector of the city, the fertilising sun, the provider of wealth and the guarantor of success and happiness. The Tophet, or the sacred area where Baal Hammon was worshipped, is the site where the bones of children and babies have been found, giving rise to the controversial and unpleasant topic of child sacrifice. For those who are interested, there is an excellent discussion of the issue in Richard Miles’ textbook, Carthage Must Be Destroyed. The term ‘Baal’ means ‘Master’ or ‘Lord’, and was used before the name of various gods.
Baal Saphon:
the Carthaginian god of war.
ballista (pl. ballistae):
a two-armed Roman catapult that looked like a crossbow on a stand, and which fired either bolts or stones with great accuracy and force.
Boeotian helmet:
a broad-brimmed helmet worn by Greek and Roman cavalrymen during the Second Punic War.
bouleuterion:
the building in a Greek city where the boule, or ruling council, met.
Bruttium:
the modern-day Calabrian peninsula.
caldarium:
an intensely hot room in Roman bath complexes. Used like a modern-day sauna, most also had a hot plunge pool. The caldarium was heated by hot air which flowed through hollow bricks in the walls and under the raised floor. The source of the piped heat was the hypocaustum, a furnace constantly kept hot by slaves.
Campania:
a fertile region of west central Italy.
Cannae:
modern-day Canne della Battaglia, a site about 12 kilometres/7.5 miles west of the town of Barletta, in Apulia. It was the site of Hannibal’s incredible victory over the Romans in August 216 BC.
Capua:
modern-day Santa Maria Capua Vetere, near Naples, in Campania. In the third century BC, it was the second largest city in Italy and had not long been under the control of Rome.
carnyx (pl. carnyxes):
a bronze trumpet, which was held vertically and topped by a bell shaped in the form of an animal, usually a boar. Used by many Celtic peoples, it was ubiquitous in Gaul, and provided a fearsome sound alone or in unison with other instruments. It was often depicted on Roman coins, to denote victories over various tribes. See also the Author’s Note.