CHAPTER XXVI.
THE STORMING OF THE UPPER CITY.
The actual fortifications of the Upper City did not offer any seriousresistance to the assailants. They were of extreme antiquity, and werenot only greatly decayed, but were inadequate to meet, even had theybeen in the best condition, the improved methods of attack which hadbeen introduced since the time of their erection. Some attempt had beenmade to put them into repair within the last few months, but to verylittle purpose. Nothing short of a complete reconstruction would havebeen of any practical use. The Roman battering-rams had not been at workfor a day before it became evident that several breaches would speedilybe made in the walls. In fact, so many weak spots had been revealed,that even the most determined and powerful garrison could not have hopedto make them all good. In the course of the night the whole line wasevacuated.
Still, Carthage was not to be taken without a desperate struggle. Twicealready had her mother-city Tyre defended herself with fury againstassailants of overwhelming strength,[52] and the world was to see astill more terrible scene of rage and madness some two centuries later,when the Hebrew people defended its last stronghold, Jerusalem, againstthe legions of Rome. The Carthaginians were now to show themselves notunworthy of these famous kinsfolk.
The Upper City was penetrated by three streets, all of them built onsteep inclines, and converging on the summit of the hill. On this thecitadel stood, itself crowned by the famous Temple of Æsculapius. Thiswas built on a rock, three sides of which displayed a sheer descent ofsome sixty feet, while the fourth was ascended by a long flight ofsteps. The three streets were built to suit the oriental taste, perhapswe should rather say the oriental need, which prefers shade to thecirculation of air and light. They were so narrow that the inhabitantsof opposite houses--the houses commonly inclined outward--could almostshake hands from their windows. The houses were not of equal height, butthey were all lofty, sometimes having as many as seven or eight stories.At the back of these main thoroughfares was a wilderness of lanes andalleys, consisting for the most part of smaller houses, with now andthen a paved yard or small garden.
Up these streets the Romans had to force their way. Almost every housewas a fortress which had to be separately attacked and separately taken.The first danger that had to be encountered was a shower of tiles andbricks from the roofs and upper stories. These missiles, heavythemselves, and falling with tremendous force from the lofty buildings,would have been terribly destructive, had not the assailants protectedthemselves by the formation of the _testudo_ or tortoise. This was madeby the men ranging their shields over their heads in a closeimpenetrable array, under cover of which they broke down the doors ofhouse after house. Sometimes even the _testudo_ reeled under the shockof some more than usually heavy mass; more than once it was actuallybroken when the defending party contrived to detach and send down uponit the whole of a parapet. Whenever this happened no small loss of lifewas the result.
When an entrance had been forced into the house, every storey became thescene of a fresh conflict. Driven at last to the roof, the defenderswould sometimes prefer to hurl themselves down to the street belowrather than fall into the hands of the enemy. Some would take adesperate leap across the space that separated them from the housesopposite; others crossed on bridges of planks or doors which theyhastily made, or, in some cases, had prepared in anticipation.
It is needless to say that a conflict of such a kind was fought with thegreatest ferocity. It was a struggle, for the most part, between apeople and an army. The inhabitants, seldom, if ever, protected byarmour, and furnished with the weapons that chance supplied, often,indeed, reduced to nothing more effective than sticks or householdimplements, fought desperately against well-protected, well-armed,well-disciplined men. The women were even more frenzied than the men.Driven to bay, they flew like wild-cats at the Romans, and bit andscratched till they were slain or disabled. There was no question ofquarter; it was not even asked. The assailants, as they slowly advanced,winning their way yard by yard, left a lifeless desolation behind them,with the dead lying as they had fallen, on every staircase and in everychamber.
This battle of the streets lasted with unabated fury for six days. Thebesiegers, of course, fought in relays; there were three detachments,and each had its regular time of service, four hours twice in the day,for of course no cessation of the attack was possible. One man allowedhimself no rest, and this one man was Scipio. During the whole of thesix days he never slept, or, at least, never composed himself to sleep,for nature would sometimes assert itself, untiring as was the spiritwhich dominated his physical frame, and he could not help a briefslumber as he sat at his meals. These he took as chance gave him theopportunity. They were hurried repasts of the simplest kind--a piece ofdried flesh, a crust of bread, or a biscuit, with now and then a bunchof raisins. His drink was rigidly limited to water, for in battle healways acted on the principle which made Hector refuse the wine-cupwhich his mother proffered him in an interval of battle.[53]
At sunset on the sixth day the Upper City was practically held by theRomans. Nothing but the citadel remained to be taken, and that was soarduous an undertaking that the attack was necessarily postponed tillthe troops had had some rest.
But the spirit of the Carthaginians was at last broken. Just as thetroops told off for the first assault had finished mustering, and beforethe trumpets had sounded the signal for the advance, a procession,headed by a herald who carried a flag of truce in his hand, was seen tobe descending the steps that led from the temple of Æsculapius. Lost tosight for a short time as it came under cover of the outer wall of thecitadel, it next became visible as it issued from one of the gates.Scipio, who was about to address his troops, went forward to meet thenew-comers. Their leader, whose style and title were given by the heraldas chief priest of the temple of Æsculapius, addressed him, his wordsbeing interpreted by a Roman prisoner.
"Leader of the armies of Rome," so ran the speech, "the gods have giventhy country the final victory over her rival. Four centuries ago Romefelt it to be an honour to be acknowledged by Carthage as an ally onequal terms.[54] Since then there has been continued rivalry andfrequent war between the two nations. More than once it has seemedlikely that the Fates had decreed that the seat of empire should be inAfrica rather than in Italy. But this was not their will. We have longbeen convinced that we were not to rule; we now perceive that we are noteven to be permitted to exist. But though it is necessary for thehonour, if not for the safety, of Rome, that Carthage should bedestroyed, it is not necessary that a multitude of innocent persons,whose sole offence is to have been born within the walls of a doomedcity, should also perish. There are some, a few thousands out of many,who have, it is true, committed the offence of defending their country;these also implore your mercy. That they can resist your attack theyacknowledge to be impossible; but they can at least claim this merit,that by a prompt surrender they will save the lives of some of yoursoldiers. Your nation, man of Rome, has been ready beyond all others toshow mercy to the conquered, and your family, Scipio, has beenconspicuous in this as in all other virtues. Be worthy, we beseech you,of your country, your house, and yourself."
It was without a moment's hesitation that Scipio replied to thisharangue. Nor had he to use the services of an interpreter. With thatindefatigable energy which distinguished him he had employed the scantyleisure allowed by his duties to learn the Carthaginian language, ofwhich at the beginning of the siege he had been as ignorant as were therest of his countrymen.
"I will not use many words, for time presses, and there is much to bedone. The multitude of unarmed persons may come forth without fear.Their lives are assured to them. Nor do we bear any enmity against bravemen who have fought against us. They shall not be harmed. I except onlyfrom my offer of mercy those who have betrayed their country bydeserting it."
The answer had scarcely been spoken before a huge multitude, to whom itspurport had probably been communicated by some preconcerted signal,poured out from the gates. Seldom
has a more piteous sight been seen.With faces wan with famine, and clothed, for the most part, in squalidrags, the long lines of old men, women, and children defiled before theRoman general as he stood surrounded by his staff. True to his gentleand kindly nature, he busied himself in making provision for theirimmediate wants. The whole number--there were fifty thousand in all, agreat crowd, it is true, but pitiably small in comparison with thesupposed total of non-combatants when the siege began--was divided intocompanies, each of which was assigned to the commissariat departmentof one or other of the legions. At the same time instructions weregiven to the officers in charge of the stores that their immediatenecessities--and many of them were actually starving--should berelieved.
The non-combatants thus disposed of, the soldiers that had surrenderedfollowed. There may have been some six thousand in all, of whomfive-sixths were mercenaries, one-sixth only native Carthaginians. Theywere in much better case than the rest of the population; in fact, asfar as provisions were concerned, they had not been subjected to anyhardship. The mercenaries had, for the most part, an indifferent look.It was depressing, doubtless, to have been serving for now three yearsan unsuccessful master, and to have missed the good pay which theymight have earned elsewhere. But this was one of the chances of theirprofession, and they might hope to recoup themselves for their loss byanother and more fortunate speculation. The Carthaginian minority werein a different temper. There was no future for them. Their country wasgone, and if the love of life, which asserts itself even over thefiercest and bitterest pride, had bent their haughty temper tosupplicate for mercy, it could do nothing more. Each man as he passed infront of the general laid down his arms upon the ground. These, again,were piled in heaps, to be carried off in due time to the stores in theRoman camp.
This business was just completed when a solitary figure was seen toissue from one of the gates in the citadel walls, and hurriedly toapproach the Roman lines. As he ran he was struck by a missile from thewalls. The blow levelled him to the ground, but he regained his feet inthe course of one or two minutes, and hastened on, though with asomewhat limping gait. It was observed that he was dressed as a slave,and, as he came nearer, that his face was so closely muffled that hisfeatures could not be recognized. Nevertheless, his figure, which wasshort and corpulent, seemed to many to be familiar. Reaching the Romanlines, he threw himself at Scipio's feet, caught him by the knees,and in broken Greek begged for his life. The general, stretchingforth his hand, raised him from the ground. It was Hasdrubal, thecommander-in-chief of the armies of Carthage.
A murmur of disgust at his poltroonery ran through the ranks. Here andthere the kinsmen or comrades of the unhappy prisoners whom he had doneto death in so barbarous a fashion a few months before gave vent to moremenacing expressions of anger. Scipio silenced these manifestations offeeling by an imperative gesture of command.
"Your life is spared," he said. "See that you make a due return for theboon."
It must not be supposed that the Roman general was disposed to regardwith any kind of leniency Hasdrubal's baseness and barbarity. It wasfrom policy that he spared the miserable creature's life. In the firstplace, it was the custom, from which it would be injudicious to depart,to make the king or chief general of a conquered people an essentialpart of the triumph which would celebrate the victory. Secondly, he wasaware that the prisoner would be useful in many ways, that there wereimportant matters about which he could give the best, or, it might be,the only available information.
As to the boon of life, it seemed to his own noble nature to be a verysmall thing indeed. For himself he felt that, had such a situation beenpossible, he would far sooner have died than survive to face such shameand ignominy: the craven clinging to life which dominates such meannatures as Hasdrubal's was simply incomprehensible to Scipio. But if hedespised Hasdrubal while he spared him, there were others among theCarthaginian leaders for whom he felt a genuine admiration and respect,and to whom he was willing to offer honourable terms of surrender.
"Where," he asked Hasdrubal, "are your colleagues in command, and thechief magistrates?"
"They are in the temple of Æsculapius," replied the Carthaginian.
"Think you that they will be willing to surrender? They are brave men,and have done their best, and they shall be honourably treated."
"I know not what they intend," muttered the fugitive, with as much shameas it was in his nature to feel.
"I will at least try them," said Scipio, and he advanced towards thecitadel, followed by some of his staff. Hasdrubal, much against hiswill, was constrained to accompany them.
A number of figures could be seen on the roof of the temple, which, ashas been explained, formed the summit of the citadel. As soon as he camewithin ear-shot of the place he bade one of the prisoners step forwardand communicate his _ultimatum_ to what may be called the garrison ofthe temple.
"_Scipio offers to all freeborn Carthaginian citizens, life onhonourable terms. To all those who have deserted he promises a fairtrial, so that if they can show any just cause for having lefttheir country, even they may not despair of safety._"
To this appeal no answer was made. After a while, as Scipio and hisattendants waited for a reply, thin curls of smoke were seen to risefrom the temple. Next a woman, leading a young boy by either hand,approached the edge of the roof. She was clothed in a flowing robe ofcrimson, confined at the waist by a broad golden girdle. Her long hair,which streamed far below her waist, was bound round her temples by acirclet of diamonds that flashed splendidly in the sun.
"By Baal," cried the Carthaginian prisoner who delivered Scipio'smessage, "it is the Lady Salamo herself."
"Who is it, say you?" asked Scipio.
"The Lady Salamo," answered the man, "the wife of my lord the general."
It was indeed the wife of Hasdrubal.
"Man of Rome," she began in a clear, penetrating voice, which madeitself heard far and wide, addressing herself to Scipio, who wasconspicuous in the scarlet cloak worn by generals commanding armies,"man of Rome, to thee there comes no blame from gods or men. Carthagewas the enemy of your country, and thou hast conquered it. But on thisHasdrubal, this traitor who hath been false to his fatherland, to hisgods, to me,--whose shame it is to have been his wife,--and to hischildren, may the gods of Carthage wreak their vengeance! And thou,Scipio, I charge thee, fail not to be their instrument."
THE LADY SALAMO DEFIES THE ROMANS FROM THE WALLS OFCARTHAGE.]
She then turned to Hasdrubal.
"Villain," she cried, "and liar, and coward, as for me and thesechildren, we shall find a fit burial in this fire;" and as she spoke agreat flame sprung up for a moment among the gathering clouds of smoke;"but thou, that wast the chiefest man in Carthage, what dishonourablegrave wilt thou find? This only I know, that neither thy children nor Iwill live to see thy disgrace."
Turning from the wretched man with a gesture of contempt, she drew adagger from her girdle and plunged it into the heart first of one thenof the other of the two children who stood at her side. Then flingingthe bloody weapon from her, she leapt into the midst of the flames,which by this time were rapidly gaining the mastery over the wholebuilding. All her companions shared her fate. The Carthaginian nobleswere too proud to live under the sway of Rome; the deserters wereconscious of their guilt, or distrusted the justice of a Roman tribunal.Anyhow, not a single individual out of the desperate band to whichScipio had addressed his appeal availed himself of the opportunity. Thetemple of Æsculapius perished with all its inmates; and along with itwas lost to Rome and to the world a vast treasury of wealth.
FOOTNOTES:
52: Against Nebuchadnezzar in 598 B.C., and against Alexander in 331.
53: "'Far hence be Bacchus' gifts,' the chief rejoined; 'Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind, Unnerves the limbs, and dulls the noble mind.'"
_Iliad_ (Pope), vi.
54: A treaty was made between Rome and Carthage in the year 509 B.C.
Lords of the World: A story of the fall of Carthage and Corinth Page 28
