But Scipio, in whom the idea of strategic exploitation was as inborn as the tactical, was not content to rest on his laurels. Already he was looking to the future, directing his view on Africa. As he had seen that Cartagena was the key to Spain, that Spain was the key to the situation in Italy, so he saw that Africa was the key to the whole struggle. Strike at Africa, and he would not only relieve Italy of Hannibal’s ever-menacing presence—a menace which he had already reduced by paralysing Hannibal’s source of reinforcement,—but would undermine the foundations of Carthaginian power, until the edifice itself collapsed in ruin.
To the congratulations of his friends, who entreated him to take a rest, he replied “ that he had now to consider how he should begin the war against Carthage ; for up to now the Carthaginians had been making war on the Romans, but now fortune had given the Romans the opportunity of making war on the Carthaginians.”
Although it must still be some time before he could convert the Roman Senate to his strategy, he set about preparing the ground. Masinissa, after the defeat at Ilipa, had come over to the Roman side, and was despatched to Africa to induce the Numidians to follow his lead. Further, Scipio sent Lælius on an embassy to sound Syphax, King of the Massæsylians, whose territory embraced most of what is to-day Algeria. Syphax, while expressing his willingness to break with Carthage, refused to ratify any treaty except with Scipio in person.
Though promised a safe conduct, the hazard of such a journey was immense. Diplomatic privileges were then in infancy, and an envoy ran risks, and not infrequently suffered a fate that was enough to chill the stoutest heart. How much greater, too, when the envoy was Rome’s one victorious leader, the man whose existence was an ever-growing menace to Carthage and her allies, and who was now asked to entrust himself, far from his army, to the care of a dubious neutral. Yet this risk Scipio, calculating the risk against the prize; took, considering that the winning over of Syphax was an essential step to the further development of his policy. After making the necessary dispositions for the protection of Spain, he sailed from Cartagena with two quinqueremes. The risk, as it proved, was even greater than he calculated. Indeed, it may be that the history of the ancient world turned on a puff of wind. For he arrived off the harbour just after Hasdrubal, driven out of Spain, had cast anchor there on his way back to Carthage. Hasdrubal had with him seven triremes, and sighting the approach of what were obviously Roman ships, he hurriedly attempted to prepare his own ships and weigh anchor, in order to overpower the two quinqueremes before they could enter the neutral harbour. But a freshening breeze helped the Roman ships to enter before Hasdrubal’s fleet could sail forth, and once Scipio was inside the harbour the Carthaginians did not dare to interfere.
Hasdrubal and Scipio both then sought audience of Syphax, who was much flattered by this recognition of his importance. He invited them both to be his guests, and after some demur they overcame their scruples, and supped together at Syphax’s table. In such a delicate situation, Scipio’s personal charm and diplomatic gifts effected a brilliant coup. Not only Syphax but Hasdrubal succumbed to his charm, the Carthaginian openly avowing that Scipio “ appeared to him more to be admired for the qualities he displayed on a personal interview with him than for his exploits in war, and that he had no doubt that Syphax and his kingdom were already at the disposal of the Romans, such was the knack that man possessed for gaining the esteem of others.” Hasdrubal was a true prophet, for Scipio sailed back with the treaty ratified.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN.
SCIPIO had ploughed the ground and sown the seeds for his African campaign. The time for reaping its fruits was not yet, however. He had first to complete the subjugation of Spain, and to deal out punishment to those tribes who had forsaken Rome in her hour of crisis on the Peninsula, after the death of the elder Scipios. Their heir had been too shrewd a diplomatist to show his hand earlier while the scales still hung in the balance, but now, with the Carthaginian power finally broken, it was essential for the future security of the Roman power that such treachery should not pass without retribution. The two chief offenders were Illiturgis and Castulo, cities in the neighbourhood of the battlefield of Bæcula, on the upper reaches of the Bætis (Guadalquiver). Sending a third of his forces under Marcius to deal with Castulo, he himself moved with the remainder on Illiturgis. A guilty conscience is an alert sentinel, and Scipio arrived to find that the Illiturgi had made every preparation for defence without awaiting any declaration of hostilities. He thereupon prepared to assault, dividing his army into two parts, giving command of one to Lælius, in order that they might “ attack the city in two places simultaneously, thus creating an alarm in two quarters at the same time ” (Livy). Here again it is interesting to note how consistently Scipio executes a convergent assault—his force divided into independently manoeuvring parts to effect surprise and strain the enemy’s defence, yet combining on a common objective. How strongly does his appreciation of this, the essential formula of tactics, contrast with its rarity in ancient warfare, in modern also, for how often do commanders wreck their plan either on the Scylla of a divided objective or on the Charybdis of a feint or “ holding ” attack to divert the enemy’s attention and reserves from their main blow.
His plan made, Scipio, realising the soldiers’ inherently lesser ardour against mere insurgents, strove to stimulate their determination by playing on their feelings for their betrayed comrades. He reminded them that the need for a salutary vengeance ought to make them fight more fiercely than against the Carthaginians. “ For with the latter the struggle was for empire and glory almost without any exasperation, while they had now to punish perfidy and cruelty.” Such an urge was needful, for the men of Illiturgis, fighting with the courage of despair, with no hope but to sell their lives as dearly as possible, repulsed assault after assault. Indeed, because of the circumstances that Scipio had evidently foreseen, the previously victorious army “showed such a want of resolution as was not very honourable to it.” At this crisis, Scipio, like Napoleon at the bridge of Lodi, did not hesitate to stake his own life. “ Considering it incumbent upon him to exert himself in person and share the danger, he reproved his soldiers for their cowardice, and ordered the scaling ladders to be brought up again, threatening to mount the wall himself since the rest hesitated.” “ He had now advanced near the walls with no small danger, when a shout was raised from all sides by the soldiers, alarmed at the danger to which their leader was exposed, and the scaling ladders were raised in several places at once.” This fresh impulse, coinciding with Lælius’s pressure elsewhere, turned the scales, and the walls were captured. During the resultant confusion the citadel, too, fell to an assault on a side where it was thought impregnable.
The treachery of Illiturgis was then avenged in a manner so drastic as to be an object-lesson of its requital, the inhabitants put to the sword, and the city itself razed to the ground. Here apparently Scipio made no attempt to restrain the fury of the troops, though, as he was to show on the morrow of Zama, he could be generous beyond comparison to an open foe. In all his acts he evidently envisaged the future, and even in allowing the obliteration of Illiturgis he had a direct purpose. For the news so shook the defenders of Castulo, an obstacle made the more formidable because the garrison had been reinforced by the remains of the Carthaginian forces, that the Spanish commander, throwing over his allies, secretly capitulated. The moral purpose of the Illiturgis sack thus accomplished, Castulo escaped more lightly.
Then, sending Marcius to clear up the few remaining centres of disaffection, Scipio returned to Cartagena to pay his vows to the gods, and to give a gladiatorial show in memory of his father and uncle. This deserves passing mention, for whether due to chance or, as seems more likely, to Scipio’s taste, its nature was different from the normal contest. Instead of the gladiators being slaves or captives, doomed to fight “ to make a Roman holiday,” they were all voluntary and unpaid, either picked representatives of tribes or soldiers anxiou
s to show their prowess in compliment to their general or for desire of glory. Nor were they all of obscure position, but included several men of distinction, so that these games at Cartagena might be considered the birthplace of the mediaeval tourney. Some, too, used it as a means to settle personal disputes, forecasting that still later development, the duel.
It was shortly after this that deserters arrived at Cartagena from Gades, offering to betray to Scipio this last stronghold of the Carthaginian power in Spain, where Mago had collected ships, fugitive troops from outlying garrisons in Spain, and auxiliaries from the African coast across the straits. The opportunity was one not to be missed by Scipio, and he at once despatched Marcius “ with the light cohorts ” and Lælius “ with seven triremes and one quinquereme, in order that they might act in concert by land and sea ” (Livy). Apart from the light these few words shed on Scipio’s grasp of the advantage of combined land and sea operations, already made evident at Cartagena, the specific mention of “ light cohorts ” would seem to have a significance. From Cartagena to Gades is a full four hundred miles. To detach light troops, purely, for a move of this range—a landmark in military evolution—suggests Scipio’s appreciation not only of the time factor, but also of the advantage of a highly mobile striking force in situations where rapidity was the coping-stone on opportunity.
The likelihood also is that he intended to follow with his legions ; but if so, this and his plans in general were upset by a severe illness, which laid him low. Exaggerated by rumour, reports that he was dead soon spread throughout the land, causing such commotion that “ neither did the allies keep their allegiance nor the army their duty.”
Mandonius and Andobales, dissatisfied because after the expulsion of the Carthaginians the Romans had not obligingly walked out and left them in possession, raised the standard of revolt, and began harassing the territory of the tribes faithful to the Roman alliance. As so often in history, the disappearance of the oppressor was the signal for dependencies to find the presence of their protector irksome. Mandonius and Andobales were but the forerunners of the American colonists and the modern Egyptians. There is no bond so irksome as that of gratitude.
But the menace of the situation was made more acute through the mutiny of the Roman troops themselves at Sucro, midway on the line of communication between Cartagena and Tarraco. It is a truism that line of communication troops are ever the least reliable, the most prone to discontent and disorder. Lack of employment, lack of plunder, were aggravated in this case by lack of pay, which had fallen into arrears. Beginning at first with mere disregard of orders and neglect of duty, the men soon broke out into open mutiny, and, driving the tribunes out of the camp, set up in command two common soldiers, Albius and Atrius, who had been the chief instigators of the trouble.
The mutineers had anticipated that with the general disturbance resulting from Scipio’s death, they would be able to plunder and exact tribute at will, while escaping notice to a large extent. But when the rumour of Scipio’s death was refuted, the movement was, if not quenched, at least damped down. They were in this more subdued frame of mind when seven military tribunes arrived, sent by Scipio. These, evidently under instructions, took a mild line, inquiring as to their grievances instead of upbraiding them, and speaking to them by groups rather than attempting to address an assembly, where the mob spirit has full play at the expense of reason.
Polybius, and Livy clearly following him, tells us that Scipio, experienced as he was in war but not in dealing with sedition, felt great anxiety and perplexity. If this be so, his course of action does not suggest it. For a novice, or, indeed, for a veteran commander, his handling of the situation was a masterpiece of blended judgment, tact, and decision. He had sent collectors round to gather in the contributions levied on the various cities for the army’s maintenance, and took care to let it be known that this was to adjust the arrears of pay. Then he issued a proclamation that the soldiers should come to Carthage to receive their pay, in a body or in detached parties as they wished. At the same time he ordered the army at Carthage to prepare to march against Mandonius and Andobales. These chiefs, incidentally, had withdrawn within their own borders on hearing that Scipio was definitely alive. Thus the mutineers on the one hand felt themselves stripped of possible allies, and on the other, were emboldened to venture to Cartagena by the prospect of pay and, still more, of the army’s departure. They took the precaution, however, to come in a body.
The seven tribunes who had inquired into their grievances were sent to meet them, with secret instructions to single out the ringleaders, and invite them to their own quarters to sup. The mutineers arrived at Cartagena at sunset, and while encouraged by the sight of the army’s preparations to march, their suspicions were also lulled by their reception, being greeted as if they made a timely arrival to relieve the departing troops. These marched out, according to orders, at daybreak with their baggage, but on reaching the gate were halted and their baggage dumped. Then, promptly, guards were told off to bar all the exits from the camp, and the rest of the troops to surround the mutineers. Meanwhile the latter had been summoned to an assembly, a summons which they obeyed the more readily because they imagined that the camp, and, indeed, the general himself, were at their mercy.
Their first shock was when they saw their general vigorous and full of health, far from the sick man they had supposed, and their second followed when, after a disconcerting silence, he addressed them in a manner strangely inconsistent with the apparent insecurity of his position. Livy purports to give this speech word for word and at great length, and in his rendering it is a masterpiece of oratory and of style. Polybius’s is shorter and crisper, more natural too, and is prefaced by the remark that Scipio “ began to speak somewhat as follows.” The lover of literature will prefer Livy’s version; but the historian, weighing the evidence of date and circumstance, will prefer to accept Polybius’s version, and that as giving the general sense rather than the exact words of Scipio.
Despite these doubts, we will quote Livy for the opening phrases, because they are so telling, and because it is not unlikely that such a beginning might have been recorded with some exactitude. Saying that he was at a loss how to address them, he proceeded : “ Can I call you countrymen, who have revolted from your country ? Or soldiers, who have rejected the command and authority of your general, and violated your solemn oath ? Can I call you enemies ? I recognise the persons, faces, and dress, and mien of fellow-countrymen ; but I perceive the actions, expressions, and intentions of enemies. For what have you wished and hoped for, but what the Illitergi and Lacetani did ? ” Next he expresses wonderment as to what grievance or what expectations had led them to revolt. If it is simply a grievance over delays of pay, caused by his illness, is such action—jeopardising their country—justified, especially as they have always been paid in full since he assumed command ? “ Mercenary troops may, indeed, sometimes be pardoned for revolting against their employers, but no pardon can be extended to those who are fighting for themselves and their wives and children. For that is just as if a man who said he had been wronged by his own father over money matters were to take up arms to kill him who was the author of his life ” (Polybius). If the cause is not merely a grievance, is it because they hoped for more profit and plunder by taking service with the enemy ? If so, who would be their possible allies ? Men like Andobales and Mandonius ; a fine thing to put their trust in such repeated turncoats ! Then he turns his scorn on the leaders they have chosen, ignorant and baseborn, parodying their names, Atrius and Albius—“ Blackie ” and “ Whitie,”—and so appealing to their sense of the ridiculous and their superstition. He throws in a grim reminder of the legion which revolted at Rhegium, and for it suffered beheading to the last man. But even these put themselves under command of a military tribune. What hope of successful revolt could they have entertained ? Even had the rumour of his death been correct, did they imagine that such tried leaders as Silanus, Lælius, or Scipio’s brother could have fail
ed to avenge the insult to Rome ?
When he has shattered their confidence and stimulated their fears by such telling arguments, the way is paved for him to detach them from the instigators of the revolt and to win back their loyalty. Changing his tone from harshness to gentleness, he continues: “ I will plead for you to Rome and to myself, using a plea universally acknowledged among men—that all multitudes are easily misled and easily impelled to excesses, so that a multitude is ever liable to the same changes as the sea. For as the sea is by its own nature harmless to voyagers and quiet, yet when agitated by winds it appears of the same turbulent character as the winds, so a multitude ever appears to be and actually is of the same character as the leaders and counsellors it happens to have.” In Livy’s version he makes also a deftly sympathetic comparison, well calcu lated to touch their hearts, between his own recent sickness of body and their sickness of mind. “ Therefore I, too, on the present occasion ... consent to be reconciled to you, and grant you an amnesty. But with the guilty instigators of revolt we refuse to be reconciled, and have decided to punish for their offences....” As he finished speaking, the loyal troops, who had encircled the assembly, clashed their swords on their shields to strike terror into the mutineers ; the herald’s voice was heard citing by name the condemned agitators ; and these offenders were brought bound and naked into the midst of the assembly, and then executed in the sight of all. It was a perfectly timed and concerted plan, and the mutineers were too cowed to raise a hand or utter a protest. The punishment carried out, the mass received assurance of forgiveness, and took a fresh oath of loyalty to the tribunes. By a characteristic touch of Scipio’s, each man received his full demand of pay as he answered his name.
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