The Fall of Carthage Read online

  All armies apart from the Romans tended to concentrate the vast majority of their infantry strength in a single line. Hellenistic armies, for instance, preferred to deepen their phalanx rather than form troops into a second line and made little or no use of reserves. This was in part because their commanders, usually monarchs, were obliged by tradition to fight in person at the head of their Guards and were in no position to send orders to reserve formations. The deepening of the phalanx also gave it great stamina in combat. In every battle over half of the Roman infantry were initially kept uncommitted in the second and third lines. Deeper lines had more stamina, but even the men in the rear ranks were affected by the exhaustion of prolonged combat. The Roman system allowed fresh men to be fed into the fighting line, renewing its impetus and leading a surge forward which might well have been enough to break the wearying enemy. The wide intervals between maniples made it easier to reinforce a combat in this way. Committing the reserve lines required careful judgement on the part of a Roman commander. Too early and the fresh troops risked being absorbed by the front line and sharing their exhaustion. Too late and the fighting line might collapse, perhaps even sweeping the second and third lines away in its rout. A good commander kept a tight rein of his reserve lines and restrained them from joining the combat on their own initiative, as excitable and nervous men and centurions were eager to join the fight. The triarii traditionally squatted or kneeled down in the third line. The posture made it easier for them to brace their spear-butts on the ground and present a hedge of point to the front, but it may also have been intended to discourage them from moving forward prematurely. The triarii numbered fewer than half of either of the first lines and traditionally offered a refuge for these to retire behind, hence the expression 'the affair came down to the triari? which applied to any desperate situation.40

  The Roman military system was directed to the single end of applying massive, steadily renewed pressure to an enemy in front. The second and third lines were not true reserves in the modern sense, and only in the most experienced legions were they capable of any form of manoeuvre. The legion's drill and tactics were ideally suited to the formal, almost ritualized battles of the period. The marching camp with its formal layout and the wide lanes between the tent lines and behind the rampart allowed the troops to form up in the columns used to deploy into battle order and then each march out through one of the gateways. The large number of officers with the army helped to regulate and control this process. Indeed the system placed considerable responsibility in the hands of the general and senior officers, which in itself belies the old view that these men were inexperienced and scarcely necessary for the army to function. With much of the army kept in reserve at the beginning of an action, it was important that someone, usually the commander himself, took the decision to commit these fresh troops. Roman commanders did not charge spear in hand at the head of their Guard cavalry like Alexander the Great or the Successor Kings. On some occasions, especially in a desperate situation, a Roman general might choose to lead a charge, but he did not expect to spend the entire battle this way. Roman generals tended to stay near to the fighting without actually joining it, riding around just behind the fighting line. From this position they were able to encourage their men and also, through the noise made by and appearance of the men in combat, judge how well the action was going and issue orders to commit their reserves accordingly. The general needed to guess where the most important fighting would occur and move to that point in the line, although all along the line tribunes, allied prefects and the general's immediate subordinates or legati were usually stationed to cover each section of the front. It was a style of command which made great demands on senior officers and put them at considerable risk, for their close proximity to the fighting line put them at risk from missiles and the attacks of lone enemies. Roman commanders needed to be mobile, moving from one crisis point to the next or riding back to fetch reserves in person when these were required quickly and there was not time to send a message. For this reason it was normal for Roman commanders to lead their armies on horseback, and even the dictator, who was banned from riding by archaic taboo, by this period automatically sought permission to ride. Roman soldiers fought better when they believed that their general was with them, able to observe and either reward or punish their behaviour.41

  The Roman army was well suited to formal pitched battles, where it could form up against an enemy to its front and attack straight forward, throwing in men from the reserve lines to reinforce the main attack, to plug a breakthrough in their own line or exploit a penetration of the enemy's. Until well into the war with Hannibal Roman commanders were indeed inclined to seek such a confrontation as swiftly as possible. Hannibal in particular was to prove far more skilful in the careful manoeuvring before a battle, exploiting the instinctive desire of his Roman opponents to meet him as soon as possible to, ensure that the battle was in fact fought in a situation and place of his own choosing. Yet it was a striking feature of the Romans, especially in their military enterprises, that they were willing and able to learn from their opponents and adapt.

  PART ONE

  THE FIRST PUNIC WAR 264-241 BC

  CHAPTER 2

  The Outbreak of War

  T

  HE LONG-TERM CAUSES of great wars have fascinated historians since Thucydides attempted to explain the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War by tracing Athenian ambition in the years after the victory over Persia, but they are seldom easy to isolate.1 This is especially true of conflicts in the ancient world, when we rarely know when, by whom and acting under what information and preconceptions the decisions were taken which eventually led to war. It is tempting but highly dangerous to employ hindsight and attempt to reconstruct the causes of a war from its course. No Roman or Carthaginian could have dreamed in 264 that their states were about to embark on a twenty-four-year struggle which would involve huge casualties, still less that it would be the first of three wars between the two peoples. It is extremely unlikely in the case of the First Punic War that either side believed that they were even about to begin a full-scale conflict with the other. Prior to 264 relations between Rome and Carthage had generally been good.

  However difficult it may be to trace the deeper causes of a conflict, the incidents which provide the sparks to ignite the greater conflagration are usually more obvious, as with Princip's assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo in AD 1914 which plunged Europe into a World War. In the case of the war between Carthage and Rome these events occurred at Messana (modern-day Messina) in Sicily and had their origins in the career of the Syracusan tyrant Agathocles, who had captured the city sometime around 315-312. Agathocles had relied heavily on mercenary soldiers to fight his long conflict with the Carthaginians and in his efforts to expand his city's dominion. Amongst his forces was a band of soldiers recruited from Campanians, Oscan-speaking descendants of the hill tribesmen who had overrun that fertile plain in the last quarter of the fifth century. After Agathocles' death in 289 this group failed to find an employer in the

  confused political situation at Syracuse. At some point in the next few years the Mamertines were admitted freely into the city of Messana, but treacherously massacred the citizens, taking their wives and property for their own.2 Using the city as base they raided the neighbouring territories, forcing other communities to pay them tribute and exploiting the confused situation on the island. Emphasizing their martial strength, the mercenaries styled themselves Mamertines, followers of Mamers the Italian war god whom the Romans worshipped as Mars.

  Messana lay on the north-eastern coast of Sicily, commanding one side of the narrow Straits between the island and Italy. On the Italian shore lay Rhegium, a Roman ally which had requested a Roman garrison to defend it against Pyrrhus.3 The Romans duly despatched 4,000 men led by one Decius, an officer of uncertain rank. Although Roman citizens in every respect save that they lacked the right to vote at Rome (civites sine suffragio), these soldiers were also Oscan-spea
king Campanians. Inspired by their kindred at Messana, they too turned upon the city they were supposed to protect, killing or expelling its male citizens and stealing their possessions. At the time, the Romans were occupied by the wars with Pyrrhus and Tarentum, and were unable to avenge this breach of their faith, so that it was not until 271 that an army went south and began the siege of Rhegium.

  The defeat of Tarentum had confirmed Roman control over the predominantly Greek southern Italy, making it all the more important to demonstrate to their new allies that such abuses of Rome's fides (faith) would not escape punishment. Rhegium was captured after a long siege and the 300 Campanians taken alive were sent to Rome for public punishment. There, as befitted citizens who had turned against the State, they were flogged and beheaded in the Forum. One source claims that Decius, who had lost his sight, was negligently guarded and managed to commit suicide before enduring this punishment.4 As yet the Romans had no connection or contact with Messana.

  The Mamertines had not joined Pyrrhus' campaign against Carthage when he answered the call of Syracuse to defend the Greeks cities on the island and made his short, spectacular, but ultimately unsuccessful foray into Sicily. However, deprived of their allies across the Straits they came under increasing pressure as a new leader emerged at Syracuse. Hiero was a skilled soldier and a shrewd politician whose popularity was based upon his campaigns against the Italian raiders. Initially elected to power by the army, Hiero made his position more stable by marrying the daughter of one of the city's leading politicians. The precise chronology of Hiero's campaigns against the Mamertines is very uncertain, but need not concern us here. In an initial battle at the River Cyamosorus he seems to have checked them, as well as allegedly taking the opportunity to sacrifice a contingent of unreliable mercenaries. Later, probably sometime between 268 and 265, Hiero won a decisive victory at the River Longanus, an action in which a body of the original citizens of Messana and a picked unit from Syracuse were concealed in ambush behind the enemy line.5

  The power of the Mamertines was broken, and seeing no prospect of salvation without external aid, their leaders, or different factions within the leadership according to Polybius, sent embassies appealing for assistance to both Carthage and Rome in 265. Once again the precise chronology of these events is unclear. What we do know is that the Carthaginians were the first to respond, one of their commanders in Sicily dispatching a token force to occupy Messana's citadel. In one version of the story, this officer, Hannibal, happened to be with a naval squadron off the nearby Lipari Islands. He rushed to Hiero's camp, ostensibly to congratulate him on his victory, but in fact to delay his advance for long enough to persuade the Mamertines to accept an alliance and insert a Carthaginian garrison. Hiero was not willing to commence open hostilities with the Carthaginians, so returned to Syracuse. This may be just another tale of Punic cunning and is not mentioned by Polybius, although it is not necessarily incompatible with his version. That intervention in this dispute was attractive to the Carthaginians is unsurprising. Throughout the Carthaginians' centuries-long struggle to control Sicily the chief opposition from the Greek cities had always been led by Syracuse, the wealthiest and most powerful of them all. Allowing another strong tyrant to emerge there, his power based on the glory of having destroyed one group of foreigners who had attacked the Greeks of Sicily, was clearly undesirable. Controlling Messana, and with it the most direct route to Italy, increased Punic power. Whether it would inevitably have led to their eventual subjugation of Syracuse and complete conquest of all Sicily, as was claimed by some later sources, is more questionable.6

  The intervention at Messana was no great initiative on the part of the Carthaginians, for they had long been active in Sicily. It was a very different matter for the Romans. Whilst their dominion had been steadily expanding for over a century, until this time they had never fought outside the Italian Peninsula. Polybius tells us that the Senate was divided over how to respond to the appeal from the Mamertines, and although it may be questioned whether he or his sources knew precisely what was said in the subsequent debate, the arguments he presents are plausible enough. The similarity between the actions of the Mamertines at Messana and Decius' troops at Rhegium must have been obvious and the hypocrisy of punishing the latter and making an alliance with the former blatant. The opposing argument was that it would prove advantageous for Rome to intervene, and dangerous for her not to. Carthage already controlled North Africa, parts of Spain, Sardinia and the lesser islands of the western Mediterranean. Control of Messana might well lead to the conquest of all Sicily and gave them command of an easy route to Italy. Rome's recently acquired dominion of southern Italy may have appeared especially vulnerable, for the Hellenic cities there and the Greeks of Sicily had always enjoyed close links.7

  Polybius claims that the Senate was unable to make up its mind, but that the consuls for 264 were eager to seize the opportunity for intervention and persuaded the People to vote in favour of sending an expedition to Sicily, winning them over with the promise of rich booty in addition to the arguments already rehearsed in the Senate. One of the consuls, Appius Claudius Caudex, was appointed to the command and it is distinctly possible that he was the driving force behind this move, for his colleague Marcus Fulvius Flaccus may already have been in Etruria suppressing a disturbance amongst the Volsinii, an operation for which he received a triumph in the following year. For Claudius the Mamertines' appeal offered an opportunity to achieve in his year of office the glory which all senators craved, made especially attractive because he would be the first man to lead a Roman army across the sea. Although Polybius presents the People as more interested than the Senate in plunder and profit, it is important to remember that when the Roman people were called upon to vote they did so in Assemblies heavily favouring the wealthiest citizens. This was especially true of the Comitia Centuriata, where this particular vote probably occurred. The motion could not have been passed unless a good proportion of the more prosperous citizens, including the equestrian order, were in favour. These men would profit more from receiving the State contracts to supply and equip the army, or from handling the massed sale as slaves of prisoners captured during the war, than from plunder picked up on the battlefield.8

  It is highly unlikely that the People voted for a formal declaration of war with Carthage. The potential for confrontation with the Carthaginians clearly existed, and a clash with Syracuse was almost certain, but the Romans may have felt that their military power was strong enough to deter, if not swiftly defeat, any opposition in Sicily. Polybius criticized the pro-Carthaginian historian, Philinus, for maintaining that the Roman decision to send an expedition to Sicily violated a treaty between the two states which recognized Roman sovereignty in Italy and Carthaginian control of Sicily. Polybius lists the three treaties made between Rome and Carthage before 264, which he had seen still preserved on bronze tablets in the Treasury of the Quaestors beside the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus at Rome. The numerous scholarly disputes over the details of these treaties and their reliability need not concern us here, for no good evidence has been put forward to make us reject them. The earliest, dated to the first year of the Roman Republic (508-507) and written in archaic Latin, placed heavy restrictions on Roman traders in Libya and Sardinia, granted Romans equal trading rights in the Carthaginian territories in Sicily, and offered protection to Rome's power and allies in Latium. A second treaty, undated by Polybius, but probably the one mentioned by Livy and Diodorus for 348, extends the area allied to Carthage in Libya, repeats the restrictions on the Romans trading there and in Sardinia and the clauses protecting Roman interests in Latium, and confirms their trading status in Sicily. Polybius does not mention the treaty listed by Livy for 306, and his final treaty is dated to 279-278 and was mainly concerned with mutual support during the wars of both states against Pyrrhus, although it seems that nothing practical actually came of this. (It is difficult to discern the truth behind the stories of the intervention of a Punic fleet in the l
atter stages of the Roman siege of Tarentum in 272, for the narratives are clearly distorted by later propaganda.) There is no good reason for rejecting Polybius' judgement and accepting Philinus' treaty. However, it is possible that one or both sides, either at the time of the treaties or with hindsight, felt that each state recognized the other's sphere of influence. What the treaties do appear to confirm is the long tradition of relatively friendly relations between the two, and the apparently widespread trade taking place, something which was to be renewed after hostilities in the First and Second Wars ended.9

  Polybius represents the Roman decision to go to Sicily as shamelessly opportunistic, their awareness of the hypocrisy of assisting the Mamertines overcome by greed for plunder and glory, backed by a concern about the potential threat posed by a Carthage fully in control of Sicily and with easy access to Italy. Dio felt that the real reason for the First Punic War was the mutual fear in both Carthage and Rome of the other's growing power, now that the Roman conquest of southern Italy had brought their empires face to face. Each believed that their only long-term security lay in weakening the other's power.10 For much of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries AD it was believed that Rome had never really been an aggressive power, but that her empire was the result of a long series of primarily defensive wars. Time after time she had gone to war to protect her interests and defend her allies (causes which were considered unimpeachably just), only conquering her enemies to ensure future peace. Therefore Roman expansion appeared haphazard and spasmodic with little sense of forward planning, the rule of the many provinces of this accidentally acquired empire a burden and a problem to which the Republic only slowly began to adapt. It was an appealing idea for German scholars, notably the great Theodore Mommsen, for whom the creation of the Roman empire was a distraction from the far more important absorption of Italy into a single culture, a trend foreshadowing the union of German peoples into a single state in his own day. It was even more attractive to the many scholars working in those countries such as Britain which themselves controlled vast colonial empires. These scholars were produced by a society which believed that the rule of civilized peoples of the world over the uncivilized was beneficial, almost as much to the conquered as the conqueror. Given that the great empires were an improving force, spreading education, the rule of law, and Christianity to the dark corners of the world, it was unappealing to believe that they had been created out of aggression or greed. The idea that the British Empire had been created 'out of a fit of absent-mindedness' was readily extended to the Roman, especially since its culture, once allied to the best of the Greek civilization, was so clearly superior to the rest of the world at that time.11