Scipio Africanus

by B. h. Liddell Hart

  How Pleminius abused his trust is one of the most sordid pages in Roman history. The wretched inhabitants suffered worse from his tyranny and lust than ever they had from the Carthaginians—an ill-requital of their aid to the Romans in regaining the town. The example of their leader infected the troops, and their greed for loot not only harassed the townspeople but inevitably led to disorder among themselves. It would seem that the tribunes strove to check this growing license, and to uphold the true standards of military discipline. One of Pleminius’s men, running away with a silver cup that he had stolen from a house and pursued by its owners, met the tribunes in his flight. They stopped him and had the cup taken away, whereat his comrades showered abuse on the tribunes, and the disturbance soon ended in a free fight between the soldiers of the tribunes and those of Pleminius. The latter were worsted and invoked the aid of their commander, inciting him by tales of the reproaches cast upon his behaviour and control. Pleminius thereupon ordered the tribunes to be brought before him, stripped, and beaten. During the short delay while the rods were being brought and themselves stripped, the tribunes called upon their men for aid. The latter, hastily gathering from all quarters, were so inflamed at the sight that, breaking loose from the habits of discipline, they vented their rage on Pleminius. Cutting him off from his party, they mutilated his nose and ears, and left him almost lifeless.

  When word of the disturbance reached Scipio, he sailed immediately for Locri and held a court of inquiry. Of the evidence and of the reasons for his judgment we know nothing. All that is handed down is the fact that he acquitted Pleminius, restored him to command, and pronouncing the tribunes guilty, ordered them to be thrown into chains and sent back to Rome for the Senate to deal with. He then returned to Sicily.

  The verdict appears somewhat astonishing, the one serious blemish, in fact, on Scipio’s judgment. The motives which inspired it are difficult to surmise. Perhaps it was partly pity for the mutilated Pleminius, combined with anger that his own men should have shown such gross insubordination and committed such an atrocity. It is a natural instinct with the best type of commander to be more severe on the misconduct of his own direct subordinates than on those who are only attached to him, and in case of dispute between the two such a man may err because of his very scrupulousness to hold the balance fairly, and to avoid partiality towards his own. It was said of one of the finest British commanders in the war of 1914-18 that if he had a personal dislike or distrust of a subordinate he invariably gave the latter more rope than the others, knowing that if his distrust was justified the man would assuredly use this rope to hang himself. Similar may have been the motives underlying Scipio’s outwardly inexplicable verdict. In criticising it the historian must consider not only the gaps in our knowledge of the case, but view the incident in the general light of all Scipio’s recorded acts as a commander. The whole weight of evidence, as we have seen, goes to show that two qualities which especially distinguished Scipio were the acuteness of his understanding of men, and his humanity to the conquered. Trust in a Pleminius or condonation of brutality were the last things to be expected of him, and so, lacking evidence as to the facts on which his decision was based, it would be rash to pass adverse judgment on his action.

  We need to remember also that Locri was in Italy, and therefore outside his province, and a close attention to its administration could only be at the expense of his primary object—preparation for the expedition to Africa.

  The importance of the Locri incident is not as a light on Scipio’s character, but as a political rock on which his military plans nearly foundered. How this came about can be briefly told. After Scipio’s departure, Pleminius, who thought that the injury he had sustained had been treated too lightly by Scipio, disobeyed the latter’s instructions. He had the tribunes dragged before him and tortured to death, refusing even to allow their mangled bodies to be buried. His injuries still rankling, he then sought to avenge himself by multiplying the burdens put on the Locrians. In despair, they sent a deputation to the Roman Senate. Their envoys arrived soon after the consular elections, which had marked the end of Scipio’s term of office, though he was continued in command of the troops in Sicily. Their tale of misery raised a storm of popular indignation at Rome, and Scipio’s senatorial opponents were not slow to divert this on to the head of the man nominally responsible. It is no surprise to find that Fabius initiated this by asking if they had carried their complaints to Scipio. The envoys replied, according to Livy, that“ deputies were sent to him, but he was occupied with the preparations for the war, and had either already crossed over into Africa, or was on the point of doing so.” They added that his previous decision between Pleminius and the tribunes had given them the impression that the former was in favour with Scipio.

  Fabius had got the answer he wanted, and after the envoys had withdrawn, hastened to condemn Scipio unheard, declaring“ that he was born for the corruption of military discipline. In Spain he almost lost more men in consequence of the mutiny than in the war. That, after the manner of foreigners and kings, he indulged the licentiousness of the soldiers, and then punished them with cruelty.” This envenomed speech Fabius followed up with“ a resolution equally harsh.” It was “that Pleminius should be conveyed to Rome in chains, and in chains plead his cause; that, if the complaints of the Locrians were founded in truth, he should be put to death in prison, and his effects confiscated. That Publius Scipio should be recalled for having quitted his province without the permission of the Senate.”

  A hot debate followed, in which, “besides the atrocious conduct of Pleminius, much was said about the dress of the general himself, as being not only un-Roman, but even unsoldierly.” His critics complained that “he walked about the gymnasium in a cloak and slippers, and that he gave his whole time to light books and the palæstra. That his whole staff were enjoying the delights which Syracuse afforded, with the same indolence and effeminacy. That Carthage and Hannibal had dropped out of his memory ”—somewhat inconsistent on the part of the people who were proposing to recall him because he had been fighting with Hannibal. How petty, but how true to human nature! The real grievance of his crusted seniors was not his leniency with Pleminius, but his Greek refinement and studies.

  But wiser counsels prevailed. Metellus pointed out how inconsistent it would be for the State now to recall, condemned in his absence and without a hearing, the very man whom they had commissioned to finish the war, and to do so in the face of the Locrians’ evidence that none of their tribulations occurred while Scipio was there. On the motion of Metellus a commission of inquiry was appointed to visit Scipio in Sicily, or even in Africa had he departed thither, with power to deprive him of his command if they found that the acts at Locri had been committed at his command or with his concurrence. This commission was also to investigate the charges brought against his military régime, whether his own alleged indolency or the relaxation of discipline among the troops. These charges were brought by Cato, who, besides being an adherent of Fabius, conceived it his special mission in life to oppose the new Hellenic culture and to effect cheese-paring economies. It is related that to save money he sold his slaves as soon as they were too old for work, that he esteemed his wife no more than his slaves, and that he left behind in Spain his faithful charger rather than incur the charge of transporting it to Italy. As quæstor under Scipio in Sicily he reproached his general with his liberality to the troops, until Scipio dispensed with his services, whereupon Cato returned disgruntled to Italy to join Fabius in an antiwaste campaign in the Senate.

  The commission went first to Locri. Pleminius had already been thrown into prison at Rhegium, according to some accounts by Scipio, who had sent a legatus with a guard to seize him and his principal coadjutors. At Locri restitution of their property and civic privileges was made to the citizens, and they willingly agreed to send deputies to give evidence against Pleminius at Rome. But though invited to bring complaints against Scipio, the citizens declined, saying that they were co
nvinced that the injuries inflicted on them were neither by his orders nor with his approval.

  The commission, relieved of the duty of investigating such charges, nevertheless went on to Syracuse, to see for themselves the military condition of his command. There are parallels in history to such a political investigation on the eve of a great military venture—the Nivelle affair is the most recent,—and often they have reacted disastrously both on the confidence of the commander and the confidence of his subordinates in him. But Scipio survived the test. “While they were on their way to Syracuse, Scipio prepared to clear himself, not by words but by facts. He ordered all his troops to assemble there, and the fleet to be got in readiness, as though a battle had to be fought that day with the Carthaginians by sea and land. On the day of their arrival he entertained them hospitably, and on the next day presented to their view his land and sea forces, not only drawn up in order, but the former carrying out field operations, while the fleet fought a mock naval battle in the harbour. The prætor and the deputies were then conducted round to view the armouries, the granaries, and other preparations for the war. And so great was the admiration aroused in them of each particular, and the whole together, that they formed the conviction that under the conduct of that general, and with that army, the Carthaginians would be vanquished, or by none other. They bid him with the blessing of the gods, cross over....” (Livy).

  These deputies were not, as the “frocks” of 1914-18, remarkable only for their ignorance of matters military. Like most Romans they were men of military training and experience, and no “ eye-wash ” would have deceived them. In face of such a verdict it is surprising that a historian of the reputation of Mommsen should here again swallow Fabius’s spiteful charges, and repeat as his own the opinion that Scipio failed to maintain discipline. Only a lay historian, militarily ignorant, could imagine that an army which had been allowed to run to seed could carry out the complex Roman battle drill and develop its preparations to a pitch of efficiency that not only gained the approval but aroused the enthusiasm of this expert commission.

  On their return to Rome the warmth of their praise induced the Senate to vote that Scipio should cross to Africa, and that he should be given permission to select himself, out of those forces which were in Sicily, the troops which he wanted to accompany him. The irony of this grudging and tardy permission lies in the clause in italics. He was given their blessing, and that was all. For a venture of such magnitude, he was worse supported by the Senate than even Hannibal by Carthage. Of Roman troops, apart from his own volunteers, he had in Sicily only the 5th and 6th Legions, the remnant of those who had fought at Cannæ, and who in punishment for the defeat had been sentenced to serve in exile in Sicily. A less understanding commander might well have hesitated to rely on troops suffering such a degradation. But“ Scipio was very far from feeling contempt for such soldiers, inasmuch as he knew that the defeat at Cannæ was not attributable to their cowardice, and that there were no soldiers in the Roman army who had served so long, or were so experienced in the various types of combat.” They on their side were burning to wipe off the unjust stigma of disgrace, and when he declared that he would take them with him he could feel sure that by this proof of his trust and generosity he had won their utter devotion. He inspected them “ man by man,” and putting aside those unfit for service he filled up their places with his own men, bringing the strength of each Legion up to 6200 infantry and 300 horse.

  Roman accounts differ widely as to the total strength of the force that embarked, and even in Livy’s time the uncertainty was such that he preferred not to give an opinion. The smallest estimate is 10,000 foot and 200 horse; a second is 16,000 infantry and 1600 horse; the third, and largest, is a total of 35,000, including horse and foot. The first is disproved by the previous facts, and these seem rather to point to the second as the correct estimate. In any case it was slender indeed for the object aimed at.

  There is a striking parallel between the situation and numbers of Scipio in 204 B.C. and those of Gustavus Adolphus in 1630 A.D., when the Swedish King crossed the Baltic to strike at the seat of the Imperial power. And each force, small as it was, had been welded by the training genius and personal magnetism of its leader into a superb instrument of war—a cadre or framework for later expansion. How purely this expedition and its triumphant success was the plan and the work of Scipio can be aptly shown by quoting Mommsen, a far from friendly witness: “It was evident that the Senate did not appoint the expedition, but merely allowed it: Scipio did not obtain half the resources which had formerly been placed at the command of Regulus, and he got that very corps which for years had been subjected by the Senate to intentional degradation. The African army was, in the view of the majority of the Senate, a forlorn hope of disrated companies and volunteers, whose loss in any event the State had no great occasion to regret.” And yet many historians assert that Rome’s victory in the Punic War was due to the generous support she gave to her generals, the failure of Carthage to the reverse cause!

  Not only were Scipio’s means slender, but the African situation had changed for the worse during the year’s delay forced on him by the need to raise and train his expeditionary force, in default of Rome’s aid, a delay still further protracted by the Locri inquiry. Hasdrubal, son of Gisco, on his return from Spain had checkmated Scipio’s newly won influence over Syphax, by giving the king his daughter Sophonisba in marriage, and in return got Syphax to renew his pledge of alliance with Carthage. Still afraid that Syphax would adhere to his old pledges to Scipio, Hasdrubal “took advantage of the Numidian while under the influence of the first transports of love, and calling to his aid the caresses of the bride, prevailed upon him to send envoys into Sicily to Scipio, and by them to warn him ‘not to cross over into Africa in reliance on his former promise.’” The message begged Scipio to carry on the war elsewhere, so that Syphax might maintain his neutrality, adding that if the Romans came he would be compelled to fight against them.

  Passion had beaten diplomacy. One can imagine what a blow the message proved to Scipio. Yet he determined to carry through his plan, and merely sought to counteract the moral harm which might accrue if Syphax’s defection became known. He sent the envoys back as quickly as possible, with a stern reminder to Syphax of his treaty obligations. Further, realising that the envoys had been seen by many, and that if he maintained silence about their visit rumours would spread, Scipio announced to the troops that the envoys had come, like Masinissa earlier to Lælius, to urge him to hasten his invasion of Africa. It was a shrewd ruse, for the truth might have caused grave moral depression at the critical time. Scipio, wiser than the military authorities of 1914, understood crowd psychology, and knew that the led put the worst construction on the silence of the leaders, that they assume no news to be bad news, despite all the proverbs.

  CHAPTER IX.

  AFRICA.

  THUS in the spring of 204 B.C. Scipio embarked his army at Lilybæum (modern Marsala), and sailed for Africa. His fleet is said to have comprised forty warships and four hundred transports, and on board was carried water and rations for fifty-five days, of which fifteen days’ supply was cooked. Complete dispositions were made for the protection of the convoy by the warships, and each class of vessel was distinguished by lights at night—the transports one, the warships two, and his own flagship three. It is worth notice that he personally supervised the embarkation of the troops.

  A huge crowd gathered to witness the departure, not only the inhabitants of Lilybæum, but all the deputies from Sicily—as a compliment to Scipio,—and the troops who were being left behind. At daybreak Scipio delivered a farewell oration and prayer, and then by a trumpet gave the signal to weigh anchor. Favoured by a strong wind the fleet made a quick passage, and next morning when the sun rose they were in sight of land, and could discern the promontory of Mercury (now Cape Bon). Scipio ordered the pilot to make for a landing farther west, but a dense fog coming on later forced the fleet to cast anchor. Next morning
, the wind rising, dispelled the fog, and the army disembarked at the Fair promontory (now Cape Farina), a few miles from the important city of Utica. The security of the landing was at once ensured by entrenching a camp on the nearest rising ground.

  These two promontories formed the horns, pointing towards Sicily, of the territory of Carthage, that bull’s head of land projecting into the Mediterranean which is to-day known as Tunisia. The horns, some thirty-five miles apart, enclosed a vast semicircular bay in the centre of which stood Carthage, on a small peninsula pointing east. Utica lay just below and inside the tip of the western horn, and a few miles east of the city was the Bagradas river, whose rich and fertile valley was the main source of supplies for Carthage. Another strategic point was Tunis, at the junction of the Carthage peninsula with the mainland—geographically south-west of Carthage but militarily east, because it lay across the landward approaches from that flank.

  Although the Carthaginians had long been expecting the blow, and had watch-towers on every cape, the news created feverish excitement and alarm, stimulated by the stream of fugitives from the country districts. At Carthage, emergency defensive measures were taken as if Scipio was already at the gates. The Roman’s first step was clearly to gain a secure base of operations, and with this aim his preliminary move was against Utica. His fleet was despatched there forthwith while the army marched overland, his advanced guard cavalry encountering a body of five hundred Carthaginian horse who had been sent to reconnoitre and interrupt the landing. After a sharp engagement these were put to flight. A still better omen was the arrival of Masinissa, true to his word, to join Scipio. Livy states that the earlier sources from which he compiled his history differed as to the strength of Masinissa’s reinforcement, some saying that he brought two hundred horse, and some two thousand. Livy accepts the smaller estimate, for the very sound reason that Masinissa after his return from Spain had been driven out of his father’s kingdom by the joint efforts of Syphax and the Carthaginians, and for the past year and more had been eluding pursuit by repeated changes of quarter. An exile, who had escaped from the last battle with only sixty horsemen, it is unlikely that he could have raised his band of followers to any large proportions.