Destroy Carthage Read online

  Since Carthage has left no writing of her own, and archaeol­ogical evidence is limited, the best attested features of the city are those which evoked the most wonder among ancient chroniclers. The shrines, numerous and profoundly revered by the populace, were famed throughout the civilized world of the period. Some were austere, mere areas of bare ground de­voted to the powers believed to dwell or appear there. This type of holy place, the tophet of Hebrew terminology, was represented near the Byrsa by the sanctuary of Tanit, fore­most spirit of the Carthaginian pantheon. Occupying an area of valuable dockland running the entire length of the merchant harbour, it contained the burnt bones of thousands of children sacrificed to the deity down the centuries of the city's life. Less forbidding were the temples, rich in statues and gold and silver offerings. Of these, the most renowned was that of Eshmoun, the god of vital force and healing. A flight of sixty steps ap­proached its precinct from the Byrsa.

  Not far from the temple, was the north end of the harbour complex. The Carthaginians had built their harbours, probably by the elaborate transformation of natural pools, on the low- lying alluvial shore beside the Byrsa plateau, seemingly in a situation still occupied by two lagoons at Salammbo. The com­mercial harbour, connected by a southerly channel to the bay of Kram, was rectangular in plan, about 1,600 by 1,000 feet, between the sea and the sanctuary of Tanit.

  Here came merchantmen from all shores of the trading world: Italy, Greece, the Levant, Egypt and elsewhere. Many foreign businesses had permanent agencies in Carthage, and parts of the city housed communities of alien merchants. Down the years, their presence had enriched the culture of the great port. Essentially, Carthage had grown rich on commodity brokerage, traditionally importing raw materials, especially metals, from the west and exporting them east, or to the Africans of the interior.

  The Carthaginians were not manufacturers of special note, but as entrepreneurs and sailors they excelled. Their naval skills were outstanding. The military harbour, circular and per­haps 1,000 feet in diameter, was attained through the merchant basin, at the north end of which was a linking channel. Accord­ing to a description based on the evidence of the historian Polybius, who examined the complex: The harbours were arranged in such a way that ships could pass from one to the other, while the entrance from the sea, 70 feet wide, could be sealed by iron chains. The first harbour, devoted to merchant vessels, contained numer­ous berths. In the centre of the inner (naval) harbour was an island which, like the circumference of the basin, was lined with quays, the entire waterfront being given to boat-houses with accommodation for 220 ships.

  Each boat-house was flanked by two Ionic columns, so that the front of the harbour and of the islands resembled a sweeping portico. On the island stood the admiral's head­quarters, also used by the trumpeters and heralds. Since the island rose steeply from the water, the admiral could observe what was happening outside, but little could be seen of the basin from the sea beyond. Even from the merchant harbour the arsenals remained concealed, for they were surrounded by a double wall.

  Strabo, writing later, added that the channel between the harbours, as well as the pools themselves, was banked by covered berths. This extraordinary complex, diverging from the normal use of natural harbours, echoed a traditional Phoenician preference for man-made ports. The classic sources describe it as a cothon. Though small in water area, it could accommodate substantial fleets, for the ships were not moored but kept ashore in the boat-houses.

  At Carthage, the obvious defensive advantages of such an arrangement were enhanced by a massive stone structure, in­cluding a parapet, which screened the entrance of the cothon from the gulf, ranging north for some distance seaward of the merchant basin. Known as the choma, this appears to have served a dual purpose in protecting the outer channel from rough weather and amphibious attack. It may also have been used as a quay by ships of call not wishing to enter port.

  Not the least fantastic of the works at Carthage were the mighty outer ramparts of the city. Inspiring grandiloquent portrayal by ancient writers, despondency in hostile generals, the walls were about twenty-three miles in length, longer than the celebrated walls of old Syracuse.

  The vital section of the fortification - that straddling the isthmus to repulse attack from the mainland - was more than fifty feet high, and almost thirty feet thick at the base, with four-storey towers every seventy yards or so. Within this wall was a double tier of remarkable casemates, the lower providing housing for 300 elephants; the upper, stables for 4,000 horses. The rampart also contained barracks for the cavalrymen, the elephant handlers and 20,000 infantrymen, together with storage for arms and provisions.

  In front of this extraordinary obstacle was another rampart, of now unknown character. Ahead again lay a moat sixty feet wide backed by a palisade of earth, stone and timbers. Faced with this triple barricade across the neck of the promontory, few enemies even contemplated a land attack. Assault from the sea was given little better chance, for, apart from the power of the Carthaginian navy at most times, a modified but formidable extension of the wall followed the entirety of the coastline round the greater city.

  There was also a wall, reputedly of some two miles, round the Byrsa, forming an inner citadel above and inland of the docks, overlooking the senate house and main public square. In all, it was a daunting system. Thus had the greatest com­mercial city in the Mediterranean, some said the richest in the world, protected her people, her businesses and sanctuaries - and, in her best times, the huge stocks of gold that tantalized rival states.

  Before those walls, Agathocles the Greek and his general Eumarcus had recoiled; the mercenaries of Matho and Spendius had stopped short. After Zama, there had been officers who urged Scipio to reduce Carthage. Scipio's philosophy demanded the dependence, not the destruction, of Rome's enemies, and his African army had toiled enough. Had he been of another mind, the ramparts must have prompted second thoughts.

  3: The Exile

  A curious detail of the treaty of 201 was that Rome did not insist on the indictment of Hannibal, her greatest enemy. It is known that he supported the peace after Zama against those in Carthage who talked of further resistance. It may be that Scipio was moved by the freemasonry of generals. It was also a fact that the Carthaginians were notorious for dealing harshly with their failed commanders, and Rome may have left them to their own judgement.

  If so, she regretted it. Far from being traduced, Hannibal re­tained sufficient support in Carthage to discourage political opponents from seeking his arraignment. Until 196, he lived discreetly in retirement, then, disgusted by increasing corrup­tion in government, returned to public life.

  The immediate problems of the city on the morrow of defeat were concerned with morale and the financial burdens of the treaty. These were not helped by an administration of conniving nobles which, while raising taxes, arranged the ex­emption of its own members and embezzled the revenues. Popular resentment, expressed in the election of Hannibal as sufet, chief magistrate, led to swift reforms.

  When the board of judges, a self-perpetuating clique of aristocrats appointed for life, obstructed him, Hannibal won enthusiastic backing for the annual review of its membership. He went on to show that by eliminating tax avoidance and other public scandals, the indemnity to Rome could be met without the need for extra taxes. His support grew. Within a few years of his supposed vitiation, the general Rome had feared more than any other man on earth was re­-established as a force to be reckoned in a recuperative and in­creasingly democratic Carthage. Neither the Roman senate nor the Carthaginian politicians discredited by Hannibal liked the developments. Insidiously, a story was spread linking the 'warmonger' with the eastern emperor Antiochus of Syria in a plot against the Latin state.

  In 195, three Roman agents arrived in Carthage, ostensibly on diplomatic business but in fact to deal with Hannibal. Sus­pecting that the purpose of the visit was his erasure, and that powerful local interests might assist in it, the former general fled secre
tly to Thapsus, on the gulf of Hammamet, where he shipped for the Levant with a private fortune. To placate the frustrated Romans, his political enemies destroyed his house and property.

  Syria, on the other hand, welcomed the exile as an honoured friend. Whatever his earlier relationship with its ruler, Hannibal had now been driven to the eastern camp. At Antioch, he learned that the emperor was in the far west of Asia Minor, at Ephesus, contemplating the shores of Greece. The Seleucid dynast had extensive plans.

  Three years before Zama, the accession of a child Pharoah to the pristine throne of the Nile had prompted Antiochus to make a compact with his fellow-imperialist, Philip V of Mace- don, whereby they would divide the external dominions of Egypt between their lands. Fearfully, the Egyptians had looked to Rome for protection while, equally alarmed, a number of smaller eastern realms pledged alliance with the western power.

  At peace with Carthage, the Romans switched their efforts to the new zone, in 200 declaring war on Macedon. Macedonian troops, they recalled, had fought for Hannibal at Zama. Further, Roman prospects in the Balkans were threatened by Philip V. The venture, a notable one in Rome's history, for it marked a significant shift from concern with her own safety toward the making of her greater empire, started slowly. Scipio was pre­occupied with domestic tasks. It was not until 197, when a young consul named Titus Flaminius took command, that for­tune swung dramatically. Flaminius, deflecting the Greek states from alliance with Macedon by offering himself as their liberator from Philip's yoke, then smashed the Macedonians at Cynoscephalae, in Thessaly.

  Commencing in thick fog, and fought over hilly ground, the battle proved a triumph for the tactical flexibility of the Roman legions against the less adaptable phalanx traditional to the Balkan states. Philip, his army decimated, was obliged to surrender his fleet and abandon his Greek possessions.

  In a masterly appearance at the Isthmian games, Corinth, the victorious Flaminius now proclaimed the Greek nations in­dependent, free not only from Macedon but of obligation to Rome herself. The announcement, received with delight by the Hellenes, shrewdly disposed of any leanings they might have toward the Syrian empire, ensuring the continuance of a num­ber of weak bodies rather than a powerful bloc. Divide et impera was already a Roman theme.

  Meanwhile, Antiochus, too busy enriching himself to assist his co-conspirator, had seized Cyprus and several Egyptian lands in Asia Minor. He also exploited Philip's predicament to annex the Dardanelles and parts of Thrace. Well on his way to recreating the old Seleucid empire, he had superseded Carthage as Rome's outstanding enemy when Hannibal fled east.

  At Ephesus, the Carthaginian propounded his own strategy. Rome could only be vanquished in Italy if large numbers of her troops were tied up abroad. In Spain, the turbulent tribes once encountered by Carthage were keeping a strong Roman force occupied. If another were obliged to defend Greece against Syrian invasion, a simultaneous seaborne attack on Italy might succeed. Hannibal offered to lead a Syrian armada to Italian shores.

  It was a bold scheme; perhaps the last chance to dispute the mastery of the world before Rome became unchallengeable. But Antiochus, lacking Hannibal's western insight, temporized. With much to lose, the Asian monarch preferred to move cautiously. Rome took the initiative. In 193, a courier from Hannibal was arrested in Carthage and the Romans, apprised of the eastern debate, sent agents to Ephesus to investigate. By this time Scipio had resumed foreign duties and may have accompanied the mission. Livy and Plutarch, recounting a second interview between the generals, framed a well-known anecdote. Scipio was supposed to have asked the Carthaginian to name the greatest commanders in history, to which Hannibal responded with Alexander, Pyrrhus and himself, in that order.

  'Suppose you had beaten me ?' inquired Scipio ironically.

  'Then I would have been the greatest of all,' replied Han­nibal.

  More convincing is the information that the attention ac­corded Hannibal by the Roman agents disturbed Antiochus, who henceforward demoted the exile in his councils. War was now inevitable. In 191, both Rome and Syria landed expeditions in Greece, Antiochus apprehensively retaining the bulk of his forces at Ephesus. The indecisive army he advanced was de­molished by the Romans at Thermopylae.

  Command of the Aegean became crucial. If the Romans were not to move east onto his preserves, Antiochus needed every ship he could master on that sea. Accordingly, Hannibal returned to Tyre to fetch reinforcements, but they never joined the king's fleet. Sailing north, they were worsted in the bay of Adalia by the warships of Rome's ally, Rhodes. Hannibal withdrew with the surviving craft of the beaten force. When Antiochus's Aegean squadrons were defeated at Myonessus, the water no longer protected him.

  The invasion he feared came in 190, jointly led by Scipio and his brother Lucius. Antiochus, falling back from Ephesus to the river Hermus (Gediz Chai), stood to fight at Magnesia, modern Minissa, his army computed at 74,000 warriors. The Scipios led two Roman legions and proportionate allied con­tingents, perhaps 30,000 troops. Since Publius had taken ill and could not leave his sick-bed, Lucius engaged the enemy. The Romans affected disdain for them, a view with which Hannibal now concurred.

  According to Cicero, he described a military lecture at Ephesus as the dissertation of an old fool. Asked his opinion of Antiochus's army, Hannibal is said to have observed: 'It will be sufficient - however greedy the Romans may be.'

  Certainly, Antiochus had displayed little confidence in with­drawing so far before a much smaller force, but Hannibal had not despised the king's troops before Thermopylae, and Mag­nesia showed that they could yet be dangerous. For a time, the Romans were in jeopardy. While their ranks drove at the enemy's centre and left flank, Antiochus himself led his right wing in an advance that compelled part of the Roman army to withdraw to its battle camp. Only the steadfastness of a courageous tribune circumvented disaster, allowing time for reinforcements to come up.

  Thwarted on the verge of success, Antiochus departed. His army, leaderless and demoralized, soon followed. Theirs was a long retreat, for the terms eventually agreed confined the Syrians beyond the Taurus range, leaving Rome to exploit Asia Minor.

  The arrest of Hannibal again appeared imminent. Believing that Antiochus might betray him to the Romans, the Cartha­ginian embarked for Crete. There, the treasure he still carried disturbed his peace. Distrusting the motives of his hosts, who knew of his private wealth, he turned back to Asia, seeking refuge in the hilly north-western district of Bithynia, then feuding with its neighbour and rival, Pergamum.

  Apparently the Bithynians had Hannibal to thank for a form of biological warfare they used against the ships of their enemy. Pots were filled with snakes and hurled at the hostile craft. As the missiles smashed, venomous reptiles swarmed among the terrified sailors of Pergamum.

  Ingenious ruses proliferate in the literature of Hannibal's later years, adversity repeatedly foiled by an agile mind. Now the fugitive immobilizes a suspicious flotilla by persuading its captains to use their sails as weather shelters. Now he sets a false trail for those who seek his treasure, topping clay-filled jars with a skin of gold. Factual or apocryphal, the tales ex­press the constant dangers of the exile's life.

  Rome dogged his travels unforgivingly. When negotiations with Bithynia revealed his whereabouts to the Latin senate, extradition once more threatened. This time, there was no escape. In his sixty-fifth year, Hannibal was too old a bird, as Plutarch put it, to fly again. Rather than submit to capture, he killed himself by drinking poison - to relieve 'the great anxiety of the Romans,' he apostrophized.

  The year was 183. Fate had already tagged a companion for his sombre shade. Within twelve months, Publius Scipio was dying at Liternum, Campania, as disillusioned and embittered as his old foe.

  4: The Censor

  The circumstances of Scipio's death introduce a new and ominous participant to the drama of Carthage. He first appears - a sedulous soldier-politician as conscientious in criticism as in his duties - with the general at Zam
a. Then thirty-two, of hardy Tusculum farming stock, Marcus Porcius Cato had risen by stubborn will and ability to a rank of note in Rome, recently holding office as quaestor, or paymaster.

  Soon he would be aedile, praetor and consul in quick suc­cession, later becoming censor, by which title he is best known.

  According to Livy, Romans of a future generation regarded Cato as the personification of old school manners, of severe, inflexible attitudes already thought reactionary by many in his lifetime. His ethos was stern in its simplicity. He despised luxury and extravagance, attacking their manifestations with relentless impartiality. He railed tirelessly against relaxed morals, especially among the young, and in women, whom he seems to have viewed with misogynistic rancour.

  Respected widely as embodying traditional Roman traits, Marcus Cato cannot be recalled as an endearing man. Privately, he was a hard husband, seemingly regarding his wife as a household slave; an unaffectionate father; an often cruel master to his servants. In office, he was diligent, repairing aqueducts, supervising the cleansing of sewers, ensuring the safety of public places, generally scourging what he saw as social mischief. Since he disapproved implacably of the new ideas concomitant with Rome's expanding experience in the 3rd and 2nd centuries, this was a sweeping brief. Among other things, he resisted the fashionable importation of Hellenic culture and urged the ex­pulsion from Rome of foreign philosophers. The popularity of alien religious cults disgusted him.