CHAPTER XXI.
POLYBIUS.
Cleanor's wish for the sleep from which there is no waking was only toogenuine. He felt almost heart-broken at the treatment which he hadreceived. He had thrown himself into the cause of Carthage with asingle-minded energy which had never been permitted to flag, and thesewounds were his reward!
True, he had a pretty clear notion of the quarter from which thistreacherous enmity had proceeded. He felt sure that Hasdrubal had neverforgiven him. That his vanity had been humbled and his cruelty baffledwere offences that would be sure to rankle in the mind of such a man.But what could be said for a people which was content to be ruled by aHasdrubal? The young Greek felt that he had lost his country, so tospeak, a second time. His native town had perished, and now the city ofhis adoption, Carthage, which he had been eager to serve with life anddeath, had cruelly repudiated him.
The first result of these thoughts was an absolute loss of all interestin life. He did not wish to recover, and for a time it seemed mostlikely that what he did not wish would not be. The physician found thatall the ground which had been gained was lost, and for some days hedespaired of his patient's life. There was no active disease; that wouldhave given his art something definite to combat. But there was a totalindifference to everything, which offered an inert, and, as it seemed,unconquerable resistance to all his efforts.
Still, at twenty there is an almost physical desire for life whichtriumphs over the deepest sorrows and the most acute disappointments.Had Cleanor been master of his own actions he might have committedsuicide. As it was, lying helpless in the hands of his physician and hisfriends, he had to submit to being kept alive. His appetite returned bydegrees, though he was almost ashamed of being hungry. As his strengthgrew, and the blood began to course more briskly through his veins, hefound interests revive which he had thought to be extinguished,interests to which he seemed to have bidden farewell. And so the processof recovery went on.
The young Scipio did his best to help it forward. He had oftenreproached himself with haste and want of discretion in prematurelyrevealing to his friend and preserver the revolting truth of thetreachery of which he had been the object. He now exerted himself torepair the mischief. His attendance by the sick-bed was unceasing. Hewas always ready to talk, to read aloud, or to play a game of draughtsor soldiers, as the strength of the patient permitted.
And all was done with so genuine an affection that it could not fail towin its way to the heart of the patient. More than once the young man'sgreat kinsman, the Commander himself, spared an hour from hisinnumerable occupations to pay a visit to the sick man's tent. Cleanorfelt again, in even increased force, what had impressed him at his firstmeeting, the inexplicable charm of Scipio's personality.
Under these circumstances Cleanor's health improved, at first almost inspite of himself, for he could hardly be said to have had any wish forlife, and then with greater rapidity, as time weakened the painfulimpressions of the past and strengthened new interests and hopes. In theearly days of his illness his host, for he occupied the private tent ofthe younger Scipio, had been granted a furlough from his militaryduties, for the express purpose of attending on his guest. Thoughrenewed more than once, this had to come to an end.
But Cleanor never lacked company, and that of the most interesting kind.It will be remembered that on the occasion of his visiting the Romancamp in the capacity of interpreter to the officer negotiating anexchange of prisoners, he had made the acquaintance of the historianPolybius. This acquaintance he was now able to improve. Polybius, as anon-combatant, had plenty of time to bestow on the invalid, in whom hefound an intelligent listener and even critic. It became his constantcustom to bring what he had written on the previous day, read it aloudto the invalid, and invite his criticism on it.
"I want above all things," Polybius said, "to be both candid and clear.Tell me if I seem to write like a partisan, or if I am obscure. What youdo not readily understand will certainly be unintelligible to ninereaders out of ten."
The reading was commonly followed by a conversation, in which a greatvariety of subjects were touched upon, and in which Cleanor found aquite inexhaustible interest. Polybius, who was now past middle age,[41]had seen about as much of men and manners as any man of his time. He hadheld high military office in his native country, commanding the cavalryof the Achæan League, the last effort of Greece to hold her place in theworld of politics. He had never seen, it so happened, any activeservice of importance, but in the knowledge of the theory of war he wasunsurpassed by any man of his time. He had indeed made a very importantcontribution to the military art by greatly improving the practice ofsignalling. If there was anything that raised the old soldier's vanityit was this. He could not boast of any victories, and he belonged to anation which had ceased to be a factor of importance in the politics ofthe world, but the credit of this invention gave him, he believed, arank among the great soldiers of history. It was, he told Cleanor, theproudest moment of his life when he saw his system used, and used withsuccess, by the great Scipio himself.[42]
But nothing in Polybius' conversation was more interesting than what hehad to say about his experiences during his seventeen years of exile inItaly. Along with many hundreds of his countrymen--with all, it mightalmost be said, who were in any way distinguished or able--he had beendeported to Italy. But he had been more fortunate than most of hiscompanions. While they were distributed among the towns of NorthernItaly, where they dragged out a miserable existence, without books orsociety, and often with but the scantiest means, he had been permittedto live in Rome. He had won the friendship of Æmilius Paullus, the greatconqueror of Macedonia, and he and his two sons interested themselves inhim. The society into which he was thus introduced was the mostbrilliant which Rome possessed, and Polybius was never weary of talkingabout it. Cleanor, who, like his countrymen in general, had beenaccustomed to regard the Romans as little better than barbarians, wasastonished at his enthusiasm.
"We haven't any society in Greece," Polybius would say, "that can befairly matched with them. They are on a larger scale, more stronglybuilt, so to speak. They are not so acute, perhaps, as some of ourpeople, but far more solid and strong."
"But they have no literature, I am told," interrupted Cleanor.
"That is hardly so," replied Polybius, "they have the beginnings of whatwill be, I am sure, a great literature. At present they do little morethan translate from us. But their translations are better than anyoriginals we can now produce. I used to be present at the first readingsof the comedies of their great writer, Terence. They were taken, it istrue, from Menander and Diphilus and other Greeks, but the taking wasdone with the greatest art, and the language was admirable. You may takeit for granted that with a language so finished as Latin now is, a realliterature is sure to come before long. And it was curious, too, to seewhat admirable judges of style these young nobles were. It wasn't true,though it was commonly reported, that Scipio and his friend Lælius wroteTerence's plays for him, but I can bear witness of my own knowledge thatthey helped him greatly with them. You see, he was not a Roman born,and it is not everyone that can write Roman Latin, any more thaneveryone can write Attic Greek. And there is another thing which wecannot match: the culture of the women in the best families. Among us itis very seldom that a respectable woman can do more than read and write;very often she cannot do as much as that. It is very different inRome--not, of course, everywhere, for there are some who stickobstinately to the old ways, but in the circle of which I am talking.Lælius--he, you know, is Scipio's great friend--whose acquaintance youwill soon make, has a daughter whose learning would put many of ourstudents to shame. She was a girl not far into her teens when I used tosee her--they do not shut up their women in our fashion--and she couldspeak Greek with the very finest accent, and they said just the same ofher Latin; of that, of course, I could hardly judge so well."
"Did you ever see the old man Cato?" asked Cleanor. "I have often heardtalk of him. He must have been a worthy of a ver
y different stamp."
"Yes, yes, I knew him well," replied Polybius, "and have excellentreasons for remembering him. As you say, he was of a very differentstamp, and belonged to quite another age. He was of a time whenscarcely a Roman had ever set his foot outside Italy, or even imaginedthat anything good could come from beyond the seas. Yet it was strangehow the new spirit had succeeded in touching even him in his old age. Doyou know that I had the honour of having him for a pupil? He must havebeen close upon eighty years of age when he found that it put him at adisadvantage not to know what other men knew, and he actually took tolearning Greek. He had long been able to speak it in a way, but he tookto reading it, and I had the pleasure of being his teacher. I used tostay at his country house, for it was only there that he had leisure forhis lessons. It was a curious experience. He used to entertain hisneighbours, the country-side folk, farmers and the like, in thefriendliest fashion. They were fine, sturdy folk, and I soon understood,when I saw them, how Rome seems likely to conquer the world. And whatheads they had! The wine-cup didn't halt in its rounds, I can tell you,and if I hadn't missed my turn as often as I could, the end would havebeen disaster. As for the old man, he never shirked.[43] But there was avery harsh side to his character. Nothing could be harder than hisdealings with his slaves. They were mere beasts of burden to him, notone whit of more account than his horses and oxen,--not indeed of somuch, seeing that they gave more trouble. He gave them just as much foodas would keep them alive, not a morsel more. When they grew too old forwork, he turned them out of doors to starve. However, he behaved verywell to me, and if I gave him any help, he repaid me many fold. He waswon over somehow to take the part of the exiles. Of course Scipio andhis friends had a great deal to do with it, but I always thought that hehad also a kindness for me. I was in the senate-house when the questioncame on--should the Greek exiles be allowed to go home? There was a hotdebate, and a close division was expected. The old man rose to speakquite at the end of the sitting. I must say that what he said was notflattering, but it was certainly effective. 'Are we going to waste anymore time about these trumpery Greeks? If we don't settle the matterto-day we shall have the whole discussion over again.' Then he sat down.The senators laughed; and the motion was carried easily. I went to thankhim the next day. He was very friendly, and I took courage to say thatif we were allowed to go back, we might also be restored to our rank andhonours. He smiled very grimly. 'Friend,' he said, 'when a man is luckyenough to get out of the Cyclops' cave, I take it that he would be afool to go back after his hat or his cloak.' I took the hint, and wasoff before two days had passed. But before I went, he sent a messagethat he wanted to see me. He was then at his country house, and he wasbusy making some alterations in a book that he had written aboutagriculture. He was dictating, and a slave, a wretched Greek, wholooked, as he probably was, half-starved, was writing down. 'I boughthim at Magnesia[44],' he said, 'for £20, and an excellent bargain itwas, but he is getting past his work now.' I saw the poor fellow flushup, but Cato cared no more for his feelings than if he had been a dog.'But now for what I wanted to say to you. I don't suppose that I shallsee the end of Carthage, though it will not be for want of urging mycountrymen to bring it about.[45] But you probably will, for it canhardly be postponed for another ten years. Well, there is one thing inCarthage that I have always wished to see, and that is, Mago's work onagriculture. I have never been able to get anything like a complete copyof it. Only two or three of the books--there are twenty-eight inall--have come into my hands, and I have found them quite admirable, andhave made all the use of them that I could for my own treatise. What Iwanted to say to you was to bear this matter in mind if you shouldchance to be at hand when the end comes. Books often fare very badly atsuch times. What, indeed, does the common soldier know about theirvalue? But, depend upon it, this one will be worth a whole ship-load ofgold and silver. Keep your eyes open, then, and warn all whom you knowto be on the look-out for Mago's book.' That was the last time I sawhim. He lived two years longer, and died happy, I suppose, because warhad been declared against Carthage."
FOOTNOTES:
41: He was probably born about the year 204 B.C., and so would now (147 B.C.) be in his fifty-eighth year.
42: I have not ventured to interrupt my narrative with an account of the invention as it was described by Polybius in more than one conversation, but I will give it here for the benefit of such readers as may be interested in the subject. The plan which Polybius seems to have found in use was a very curious one, and, it is evident, far from being effective. The two bodies of men which would have to communicate by signal were provided with two vessels of exactly the same diameter and depth, and with outlets for the water of exactly the same size. Divisions were marked on them, and each division was appropriated to some common contingency in military affairs, as for instance, "Cavalry has arrived", "Cavalry is wanted", "Food is short", &c. The party desirous to communicate showed a torch. The other replied in the same way to indicate that they were attending. Another torch was shown by the first party. This meant that the water had been set flowing. The other replied in the same way, and set the water flowing in their vessel. When the desired point had been reached a third signal was shown. As soon as this signal was seen, the other side observed how far the water in their vessel had sunk. The defect was that only a few out of the innumerable contingencies of war could be thus communicated. The system perfected by Polybius was much more effective. The alphabet was divided into five groups of five letters each. The party wishing to communicate, which I will in future speak of as No. 1, called the attention of the other (No. 2) by raising two torches, and this signal was acknowledged in the same way. No. 1 then showed one, two, three, four, or five torches on the left to indicate which group he was about to use, and then one, two, three, four, or five on the right to indicate the letter in the group. An observing-glass with two tubes was necessary for No. 2 to enable him to distinguish between right and left. I will give an example, taking it, for convenience, from our own alphabet. "Cavalry wanted" is the message which No. 1 desires to send. The groups of letters would be--
1. _a b c d e._ 2. _f g h i j._ 3. _k l m n o._ 4. _p q r s t._ 5. _u v w x y._
_z_ might be neglected, as practically of no use. (In the Greek alphabet of 24 letters the fifth group would be one letter short. This, of course, would not matter.)
_C_ is shown by 1 left and 3 on right; _a_ by 1 and 1; _v_ by 5 and 2; _l_ by 3 and 2; _r_ by 4 and 3; _y_ by 5 and 5.
And similarly with "wanted".
43: So Horace in his Ode, "Ad Amphoram" (To the Wine Jar):
"Cato's virtue, as we know, Caught from thee a warmer glow".
44: The great victory of the Romans over Antiochus the Great at Magnesia was in 190 B.C. Polybius is speaking of the year 151.
45: Cato was accustomed, whatever the business before the Senate might be, to add to his opinion on the matter in hand, "I also think that Carthage ought to be destroyed". One of the Scipios, who favoured a more liberal policy, or perhaps thought that Rome would be better if she had a not too powerful rival, used to add in the same way, "I think that Carthage ought still to exist".
Lords of the World: A story of the fall of Carthage and Corinth Page 23
