Destroy Carthage Page 11

  When the main Roman fleet appeared off northern Sicily, the commander of the Carthaginian naval forces there, a little-known Hannibal, unwisely approached without caution. The navies met off Mylae, not far from Messana. Hannibal, out­numbered in ships by the cumbersome enemy with their curious superstructures, nevertheless engaged with sanguine assurance, neglecting proper battle order.

  The Romans, now with disciplined crews, were in two lines under the consul Caius Duilius; in all, 143 ships. As the swift Carthaginian vessels swung at them, aiming to rip oars and steering paddles from bulky hulls, the Romans manned their booms, the spiked crows poised in readiness. Unsuspectingly, the Punic pack bore in on the first line of the enemy. Violently, the boarding-bridges smashed down. The metal beaks rammed home.

  Desperately, the rearward Carthaginian ships veered aside as heavily-armed legionaries poured aboard the grappled leaders. Some of Hannibal's galleys, slipping through the first Roman line, ran foul of the stabbing crows of the second line. Pierced and wallowing, they too were overrun by the 80 or so marines on each Roman ship. By the time the startled Carthaginians broke away, 45 of their craft were lost, mostly captured.

  Mylae, celebrated in Rome by a triumphal column incor­porating the figure-heads of the conquered vessels, marked the end of Punic naval dominance. Carthaginian seamen were still superior in professional skills, and would modify their tactics to meet the enemy, but Rome had shown she could live in their element, and quickly enlarged her fleet.

  Four years after Mylae, it outnumbered the Carthaginian navy and was ready for the most ambitious foreign enterprise yet entertained by Rome.

  Like Agathocles, the Romans intended to attack Carthage in Africa. Their early successes in Sicily had not brought the further gains expected. The cost of war there was heavy.

  Unlike Agathocles, however, they diverted in no sense of des­peration. The Africa enterprise was long planned, the resources applied to it massive. In the year 256, an armada of 350 vessels, the transports packed with supplies and horses, the warships jammed with legionaries and equipped with crows, sailed from Econmus in Sicily for the southern continent.

  18: Xanthippus

  A century later, under the passport of diplomatic deception, Roman troops would cross to Africa with impunity. In 256 the passage was formidable. Unenamoured of the open sea, the in­vaders planned to sail the southern coast of Sicily to its western extremity, where the traverse to the shores of Tunisia was shortest. This meant skirting the more hostile end of the island, inviting Punic naval intervention.

  It occurred between Cape Ecnomus (Monte Rufino) and westerly Heraclea. Hannibal, whose negligence in northern waters had so encouraged the Romans, had been arrested and executed by his officers. Now under two commanders, Hamil­car and Hanno of Acragas, the Carthaginian fleet was arrayed in a single line at right-angles to the coast: an immense pier of more than 300 vessels stretching from inshore to far at sea.

  The Romans approached in wedge formation, their leaders, the consuls Atilius Regulus and Manilius Vulso, aiming to bull­doze their way through the attentuated obstacle. Of the four war squadrons in their armada, two formed the leading edges of the wedge; another completed the triangle in line at rear, towing transports; the last followed in reserve.

  Hamilcar appears to have envisaged the envelopment, divis­ion and selective destruction of the Romans by tactics ex­ploiting the slow movement of the transports. As the leading squadrons of the wedge accelerated to punch a gap in the Punic line, the vessels confronting them deliberately drew back, urging the Roman oarsmen to greater speed.

  Unable to keep pace, the transport-towing squadron fell behind. In its rear, the reserve squadron held its post.

  At the same time, the wings of the Carthaginian line en­circled the Roman flanks. Hamilcar's manoeuvres had gone well. He had achieved the separation of the enemy fleet into three parts, uncovered the rear of the wedge, and placed his own squadrons in striking posts. He deserved success. That it eluded him seems attributable, in part, to Roman initiative, but more so to the continuing inability of the Carthaginians to cope at close quarters against the crows.

  While Hamilcar now engaged the forward section of the Roman fleet with his central squadrons, the Carthaginian left (inshore) swept toward the struggling tow-ships; the right, under Hanno, pounced from seaward on the enemy reserves. Early sources present a blurred picture of what ensued. Evi­dently the tow-ships cut loose from the transports and may have resumed their position in the Roman wedge, for the Carthaginians surprisingly failed to take it in the rear.

  Meanwhile, the reserve squadron stood up beside the trans­ports.

  In the age of gunnery, Hanno's ships would have had little difficulty destroying, or driving aground, this isolated section of the Roman fleet. But at a time when only the most primitive of missiles were used at sea (ramming was the principal of­fensive technique), the Carthaginians could not complete their advantage without drawing in range of the waiting crows. They were hesitant.

  The result was a mockery of elegant tactics. Instead of Hanno vanquishing the hard-pressed Roman rearguard and moving on to support Hamilcar, it was his opponents who finally were reinforced - first by Regulus, then Manilius - , Hamilcar having failed against the weight of their squadrons. Hanno, trapped between his would-be victims and their res­cuers, now lost many ships. Altogether, the Romans sunk 30 Carthaginian vessels, and captured 64, against 24 of their own destroyed. Rome had a second naval triumph to celebrate.

  With a clear passage to Africa, the expedition landed near Aspis (Clupea) on the Cap Bon peninsula, from which region it set about plundering the countryside. Fifty years earlier, Agathocles had found it fertile, rich and defenceless. Things had not changed. Among their booty, the invaders reputedly amassed 20,000 slaves. Had there been less temptation to pillage, the Romans might have acted more directly against Carthage. As it happened, the summer slipped away and Rome ordered the recall of Manilius with the spoils and much of the armada before winter closed sea communications. Regulus was left to maintain a Roman presence in Africa until the new campaign season and another landing. His force numbered 15,000 infantry, a smaller con­tingent of cavalry, and 40 ships: still a threat to a state whose troops were almost wholly overseas.

  At Carthage, the sufets of the day, Hasdrubal-son-of-Hanno and Bostar, organized a defence force while Hamilcar was summoned from Sicily with 5,500 men. Despite the scratch nature of their army, it was decided to oppose the continuing devastations of Regulus, who had advanced to Adys (Hr Oudna), a mere twenty-five miles from Tunis.

  Marching to that locality, the Carthaginians encamped on a hill commanding the Roman position. Regulus, perceiving their strength in mounted troops, immediately attacked them on the eminence where cavalry was inhibited. The superiority of the disciplined Roman legions proved overwhelming. The Punic camp was destroyed, its occupants routed. Regulus now seized Tunis, denying Carthage the interior.

  The city's position was serious. Risings had occurred among the tribes of the dependencies. Numidians were harrying the territories. Refugees streamed across the isthmus. Yet there was a brighter side. Agathocles had come so far, to fail dis­mally. The sea gate was open and Carthage retained the asset of her great wealth, a talisman even now stirring distant forces to her side.

  These materialized in the form of a band of Spartan mer­cenaries led by a professional captain named Xanthippus, a veteran of the Greek wars with great flair and experience. In­spiring both senate and soldiery with confidence, Xanthippus quickly took effective charge of the city's motley army, which he drilled with Spartan thoroughness.Regulus would have been well advised, at this stage, to rest on his achievements until reinforced. Fortune was running for the Romans. In ten years of war, with victories in Sicily, at sea and in Africa, they had suffered no major mishap. For this they could thank the prudence of commanders whose resolution was matched by an aweness that Rome had the strength to be patient. Now the record was about to be shattered, the
gains eroded, by a risk as needless as it was rash.

  Fired by success at Adys, Regulus aspired to conquer Carth­age before the spring brought a successor and fresh troops to share the credit. He might, indeed, have won terms to Rome's advantage from the city, for there were peace discussions. But his ultimatum was so harsh, his manner so arrogant, that the Carthaginians refused to conclude the talks with a bargain.

  His real blunder was in giving battle to the army organized by Xanthippus, a profoundly different force to that worsted at Adys. In size, it was much the same as that of Regulus, but its components offered it tactical advantages. While the Romans had no more than 500 horse, the Carthaginians had 4,000. They also possessed 100 elephants, animals the Italians had yet to meet with confidence.

  Regulus dominated in infantry; nevertheless, the 12,000 Carthaginian foot troops were not contemptible. In part, they comprised the veteran mercenaries of Hamilcar, and the Spartans. But the greater number were citizens trained by Xanthippus - inexperienced in war, but high in motivation and intelligence. It was a rare event: one of the few occasions when Carthage fielded a largely citizen army.

  Regulus doomed his troops from the start by two errors. 1, He accepted battle on level ground ideal for cavalry (it was actually chosen, between Carthage and Tunis, by Xanthippus), a measure of his over-confidence since Adys. 2, He packed his infantry deep and close before the elephants in the belief that pachydermous bulk might be offset by concentration.

  Both mistakes were disastrous. The elephants, leading the Carthaginian advance, created havoc in the dense ranks con­fronting them. The Carthaginian cavalry, brushing aside the small body of opposing horse, attacked the Romans in flank and rear. Those of Regulus's legions who survived the elephants were faced with the unbroken ranks of Punic infantry -'the Carthag­inian phalanx,' as Polybius termed it. Encircled and disorgan­ized, the Romans were massacred. About 2,000 legionaries who had driven back the mercenaries on Xanthippus's right escaped to Aspis. Regulus, and a further 500, were captured. The rest perished.

  According to legend, Regulus was later released on parole to persuade the Romans to make peace, but, having defiantly advised the senate to pursue war, returned to Carthage and execution. The story, popularized by Horace, appears to be apocryphal. On better evidence, the prisoner died in captivity, his disservice to Rome unredeemed by martyrdom.

  The land disaster had a grisly sea sequel. News of Regulus's defeat brought the Roman navy to the aid of the survivors. Re­pulsing a smaller Punic fleet off Cap Bon, it lifted the remnants of the expedition from Aspis and headed for Sicily. It was July, a month when southerly gales were expected, and the pilots warned against a lee shore. Unwisely, their superiors insisted on lingering to harry the south coast of the island.

  They had reached Camarina, between Ecnomus and Cape Pachynus, when a violent storm drove the fleet on the rocks, destroying more than 250 vessels. Possibly, as many as 100,000 crewmen and troops were drowned. Certainly, it was the worst catastrophe at sea known to contemporaries. 'History,' wrote Polybius, 'can scarcely afford another disaster on such a scale.'

  16: Farewell Sicily

  The First Punic War dragged on another fourteen years, now a conflict of punishing attrition centred once more on Sicily. The Pyrrhic invasion had steeped Italy in grief for her fallen sons; the Punic War produced mourning on an even more tragic scale. Roman bitterness was not diminished by the knowledge that Carthage, for all her financial investment, risked the lives of relatively few of her own menfolk.

  Each fresh casualty-list deepened resentment of the Punic state. Sicily swallowed manpower like some massive pit, and Punic money followed. The sacrifice would stop when Rome's vigour was exhausted, Carthage's treasure spent. Until then, it continued with fluctuating fortunes on both sides, the flair of Punic generalship insufficient to surmount the reserves of its dogged foe.

  On land, the struggle was of two distinct types: siege war­fare, the Romans seeking to reduce Carthage's strongholds in western Sicily; and what might best be described as a guerilla war in which the Carthaginians held the initiative, mounting surprise attacks and raids from hill bases. Major field battles were conspicuously absent.

  At first, this omission reflected the fear of elephants trans­mitted to the Roman troops from Africa. Following the defeat of Regulus, the commander of the Carthaginian forces in Sicily, Hasdrubal-son-of-Hanno, had 140 elephants at Lilybaeum. For two years they assured him command of the countryside. Roman morale was low. Then, in 251, Hasdrubal rashly em­ployed the animals against a walled town, Panormus, which had fallen to Rome some years earlier.

  Emboldened by their fortifications, the defenders allowed the elephants to draw close before assailing them with arrows and javelins. The tormented beasts ran amok. Confusion in Hasdrubal's ranks, resulting in his repulse, was overshadowed by the loss to Carthage of the elephants, most of them escaping to be caught by the Romans.

  Confident again of appearing on open land, the legions con­verged against Lilybaeum. From 250, the attackers spared no effort to reduce the stronghold, a base vital to the Punic cause. It was menaced by siege works and armed camps. Its towers were mined; its walls battered by great rams. The officers of the mercenary garrison were suborned.

  Against this onslaught, the Carthaginian commander, Him­ilco, fought a brilliant and fierce defence. With counter-mines and forays, he drove the besiegers back while the bastions were rebuilt to block fresh attacks. He used fire against the enemy. Winning the loyalty of the rank-and-file mercenaries, he thwarted conspiracy, expelling the traitors from the city.

  At the end of the summer, a violent gale wrecked some of the wooden towers brought forward by the Romans. Himilco made good use of the chaos. His fire parties sallied against the siege-works in three places, setting light to the tinder-dry timber. Strong winds, fanning the flames, gusted smoke in the faces of the besiegers, increasing their distraction. As they struggled to douse the fires, Himilco's archers bombarded them with arrows.

  In the end, the siege-works were completely destroyed: even the metal heads of the battering rams had melted. The Romans now lost faith in assault, relying on blockade. But hopes of starving the city dwindled as supplies continued to arrive by sea.

  Meanwhile, the Carthaginians moved their headquarters to Drepana, a port twenty-five miles north of Lilybaeum. Ex­pressive of Roman frustration at this period (though of ques­tionable veracity) is the familiar story of the martinet Roman commander P. Claudius Pulcher who, when the sacred chickens refused to eat - a bad omen - hurled them impatiently into the sea off Drepana with the injunction, 'Damn well drink, then!' or words to that effect.

  It was Claudius's successor, Junius Pullus, who conceived the notion of occupying Mount Eryx (Mount San Guiliano) close to Drepana, thus commanding the land approach to the port. From this eminence, a height of more than 2,000 feet, the Romans directed operations in the northwest, possessing a temple on the summit and the town of Eryx on the lower slopes.

  The land conflict now entered a new phase. In 247, the ap­pointment of an outstanding Carthaginian general to the Sicilian command heralded a change in the style of war. Hamilcar Barca, still a young man, was backed by a formid­able family. At a time when many in Carthage pressed the need to develop continental power in North Africa, the Barcids consistently stressed Mediterranean priorities.

  The 'African' party, led by a second Hanno the Great, was actually active in the extension of Carthaginian territory as far as Theveste (Tebessa, in modern Algeria) while the Romans besieged Drepana and Lilybaeum. It may be that this was a prudent, if belated, policy, but it diverted resources from Sicily and promoted friction between Hanno and Hamilcar.

  Hamilcar, anxious to further Barcid policy, took daring steps. Instead of reinforcing the beleaguered bases of the far west, he installed his troops near Roman Panormus, at a place named Herctae (Monte Pellegrino), a high plateau with culti­vable land on top. Herctae was an ideal eyrie from which to harry the Romans. Precipi
tous of approach, its few paths could easily be defended. The height was cool and healthy. It also possessed access to a natural harbour.

  While his ships plundered and ravaged the Italian coast, Hamilcar waged a three-year campaign of land raids, skirmishes and ambuscades which, at one stage, engaged a reputed 40,000 Roman troops. It was a strategy quite new to the Punic War. Without hazarding a single major battle, Hamilcar tied up enough enemy legions to relieve the pressure on Lilybaeum.

  Eventually, becoming restricted at Herctae, he embarked on another venture. Coasting his forces west to the region of Mount Eryx, Hamilcar smuggled them past the guard-posts at its base, stormed the Roman-held town, and trapped the

  Romans in the temple on the summit. Here, for another two years and more, he operated to the exasperation of the enemy, neutralizing Rome's bid for Drepana.

  At last it was clear to the Romans that they could not out­fight Hamilcar. For all the men they had committed, with all the losses they had sustained, victory seemed no closer than it had done six years before. The Carthaginian was too asute to accept a set-piece trial of strength. As long as there were ships to supply his hill base and the Punic ports, Rome's legions could make no headway.