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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Acknowledgements
Introductory Note
Maps
Characters
Prologue
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Part Two
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Part Three
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Part Four
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part Five
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Part Six
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Author’s Note
Also by David Gibbins
About the Author
Copyright
Acknowledgements
I am very grateful to my agent, Luigi Bonomi of LBA, and to Rob Bartholomew of The Creative Assembly for having set this project in motion; to Jeremy Trevathan, Catherine Richards and the team at Macmillan for their work in getting this book into production, as well as to Peter Wolverton and Anne Brewer at St Martin’s Press in New York; and to the team at The Creative Assembly and at Sega® for all of their support and input. I owe special thanks to Martin Fletcher for his excellent editorial work, to Jessica Cuthbert-Smith for her excellent copyediting and to Ann Verrinder for proofreading and scrutinizing the manuscript at every stage and giving much useful advice.
I am grateful to Brian Warmington, Emeritus Reader in Ancient History at the University of Bristol and author of Carthage (Penguin, 1964), for having taught me Republican Roman history in such a memorable fashion and for having encouraged my interest in the Punic Wars. My involvement with the archaeology of Carthage owes much to Henry Hurst, my doctoral supervisor at Cambridge and director of the British Mission in the UNESCO ‘Save Carthage’ project, who invited me to join his excavation at the harbour entrance and supported my own underwater archaeology expedition to Carthage the following year. That project was made possible by the British Academy, the Cambridge University Classics Faculty, the Canadian Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council and Dr Abdelmajid Ennabli, director of the Carthage Museum; I am also grateful to the many expedition members for their work on those projects.
I first studied the battlefield of Pydna and the sculpture from the monument of Aemilius Paullus on travels in Greece funded by the Society of Antiquaries of London. My knowledge of ancient naval warfare was greatly expanded during my tenure of a Winston Churchill Memorial Travel Fellowship in the east Mediterranean, when I was able to spend time in Haifa, Israel, and study the Athlit Ram – the only surviving ram from an ancient warship – and then in Greece to examine the trireme Olympias. My interest in ancient Rome developed over many visits to explore the archaeology of the city, most memorably with my father, when we discussed the possibility of pinpointing remains from a particular date and creating a book out of it; that led me to trace the likely route of the triumphal procession of Aemilius Paullus in 167 BC, and to study structures still extant among the ruins of the Forum and elsewhere in Rome dating from that period. I am also grateful to my brother Alan for his photography and film-making, and to Jordan Webber for her help with my website www.davidgibbins.com.
This book is dedicated with much love to my daughter Molly.
Introductory Note
In the second century BC Rome was still a republic, ruled by wealthy patricians whose families traced their ancestry back to the first years of the city some six hundred years earlier. The republic had been formed when the last king of Rome was ousted in 509 BC, and it was to survive until the establishment of the empire under Augustus towards the end of the first century BC. The main administrative body was the Senate, led by two annually elected consuls. Outside the Senate were twelve elected tribunes, representatives of the common people (the plebs), who had power of veto over the Senate. The complex alliances and rivalries between the patrician families (the gentes, singular gens), as well as between the patricians and the plebs, are crucial to understanding the history of Rome at this period, at a time when overseas conquest gave a tempting vision of personal power to generals that eventually led to civil war in the first century BC and to Octavian proclaiming himself Augustus. Why the establishment of an empire should not have happened more than a century earlier, when Rome’s armies stood supreme and its most outstanding general, Scipio Aemilianus Africanus, had the world at his feet, is one of the most fascinating questions of ancient history and the backdrop to the story in this novel.
The Roman army at this date was not yet a professional force; legions were called up from among the citizens of Rome in response to particular crises. The army would only take on a professional guise during times of protracted war, when the advantages of keeping a standing army would have become apparent. Throughout the second century BC, the period of this novel, a tension existed between those who feared that the development of a professional army could lead to military dictatorship, and those who saw it as a necessity if Rome were to hold its own on the world stage. Eventually, the latter won out, leading to the army reforms of the consul Marius in 107 BC and the establishment of the first permanent legions.
At the time of this novel, the familiar legion titles of the imperial period, such as ‘Legio XX Valeria Victrix’, did not yet exist; legions raised for particular campaigns and disbanded afterwards might have a number, but would not carry forward their identity. The main formation within a legion was the maniple, a unit discarded by Marius in favour of the smaller cohort. The maniple might be equated with the ‘wing’ of a Victorian British regiment, a formation about half the size of a modern infantry battalion that was faster to deploy and more manoeuvrable in battle. The main unit within the maniple was the century, roughly equivalent to a modern infantry company. Traditionally, the men within a legion were classed by wealth and age, from the poorest velites (skirmishers) through the hastati and principes to the wealthiest triarii, with each category corresponding to increasing quality of armour and equipment, as well as to positions in the line of battle that were generally more exposed and dangerous for the poorer and more lightly equipped troops.
Centuries were commanded by centurions – men who had risen through the ranks based on ability and experience. They held responsibility similar to that of a modern-day infantry captain, but are best seen as non-commissioned officers. The primipilus (‘of the first file’) was the senior centurion in a legion, the equivalent of a regimental sergeant-major. Another common rank was optio, a subordinate rank to centurion with responsibility similar to that of a lieutenant but best seen as a sergeant or corporal. A wide social gulf existed between these men and the more senior officers in the legion, who came from patrician families for whom military appointments were part of the cursus honorum (the ‘course of offices’), the sequence of military and civil offices that a wealthy Roman male would hope to hold through his lifetime. The middle-ranking officers of a legion were the military tribunes, young men at the start of their careers or
older men who had volunteered in time of crisis to serve in the army but were not yet at the stage in the cursus honorum where they could command a legion. That role went to the legatus, the equivalent of a colonel or brigadier, who might command several thousand men in the field, including attached cavalry and allied forces.
There was no rank of general, because armies were commanded by a praetor, the second highest civil rank in Rome, or by one of the consuls. The competence of an army commander was therefore a matter of chance, as military prowess was not necessarily a prerequisite for the highest civil office; the ability of an army commander might depend on whether there had been opportunities for active service earlier during his career. However, with war in the offing, a man might be elected to the consulship on the basis of his military reputation, and the law restricting the repeat holding of office temporarily overturned to allow the re-election of a man who had proved to be an able general.
This system worked well enough to allow Rome her military successes in the second century BC, but veterans would have been acutely aware of its deficiencies, including the absence of formal schooling in war for young men before they were appointed tribune and sent into the field. Equally pressing was the lack of continuity among the legionaries, as they were discharged after campaigns and much accumulated knowledge was lost in the intervals between wars. When the call to arms came again, men might go not so much for professional pride or for the glory of war but for the chance of booty, an increasing attraction with the wars of conquest in Greece and the east bringing much visible wealth into Rome at this period.
At the time of this novel, Rome was engaged in two great wars of conquest: one against the kingdoms in Macedonia and Greece that had grown out of Alexander the Great’s empire, and the other against the North African people whom the Romans called ‘Punic’, their term for the descendants of Phoenician seafarers from the area of modern Lebanon who had established the city of Carthage some seven hundred years before. Rome fought three wars against Carthage, in 264–261 BC, 218–201 BC and 149–146 BC, progressively taking Carthaginian overseas territories in Sardinia and Sicily and Spain until Carthage was left with little more than her hinterland in modern Tunisia, hemmed in by Rome’s Numidian allies. The Second Punic War, when the Carthaginian general Hannibal marched with his elephants through Spain and over the Alps towards Rome, is perhaps the most famous of these campaigns, yet because it left Carthage intact was really only the stage-setting for one of the most devastating events in ancient history some fifty years later when Rome finally made the decision to destroy her enemy altogether.
By the time of the final assault on the city in 146 BC and on Corinth in Greece in the same year, Rome was poised for domination of the ancient world, held back only by a constitution that had been designed to manage a city-state and not an empire. For the modern war-gamer this period is one of the most fascinating in antiquity, a time when small changes could have altered the course of history, and when all of the factors of campaigning come vividly into play: the political backdrop, rivalries and alliances among the patrician gentes of Rome, problems of supply and maintenance of overseas armies, evolving battle tactics on land and at sea, and above all the personalities and ambitions of some of the most powerful individuals in history, in a period that is only imperfectly known from the ancient sources and therefore leaves much open to speculation and gameplay.
The story of the Punic Wars has huge resonance today, with some lessons that have been learned well, others less so. The decision to leave Carthage intact at the end of the Second Punic War can be compared with the decision by the Allies not to conquer Germany and instead accept an armistice at the end of the First World War, or the decision by the US-led coalition to stop short of the invasion of Iraq at the end of the Gulf War in 1991; in both cases the decision to hold back led to far more costly and devastating war years later. Archaeology has revealed that despite the defeat of Hannibal, Carthage rebuilt her war harbour unhindered by Rome, just as the Allies stood by while Hitler rebuilt the German navy and air force in the 1930s. In many ways, the Punic Wars were the first true world war, the first ‘total’ war, encompassing more than half the ancient world and with repercussions far beyond the west Mediterranean. Just like the world wars of the last century or the present global war against terrorism, the main lesson of history is perhaps that war on that scale leaves little room for concession or appeasement. Total war means just that: total war.
Distances
The basic unit of Roman linear measurement was the foot (pes), divided into twelve inches (unciae), roughly similar to the units we use today. For longer distances they used the mile (milliarum), a distance of 5,000 pedes, so just over nine-tenths of a modern mile or about one and a half kilometres. An intermediate unit of Greek origin was the stadium (plural stadiae, derived from the Greek stadion, a racing track), about 600 pedes, so a little under an eighth of a mile or a fifth of a kilometre. In translation it is common to use the Anglicized stade and stades, as in this novel.
Dates
The Romans dated years ab urbe condita, ‘from the founding of the city’ in 753 BC, but more commonly used the ‘consular year’, naming the two consuls in office at any one time. Because the consuls changed annually and in theory no two men could hold the office twice, the consular date gave a unique year. It was often necessary to spell out the full names because of the dominance through the Republican period of men from a small number of gentes such as the Scipiones, so it might not be enough to say ‘in the consulship of Scipio and Metellus’; the full names would have to be given.
Gens
The gens (plural gentes) was the family of a patrician Roman. A person might be from an established branch of a gens, so that, for example, Scipio Africanus was from the Scipiones branch of the gens Cornelii, and Sextus Julius Caesar from the Caesares branch of the gens Julii. The gentes can be compared with the aristocratic families of Europe in recent centuries, although for the Roman gens behaviour was even more formalized and restrictive – governing, for example, marriage as well as rights and privileges. Most of the main players of the Roman Republic came from a small number of gentes, so that names such as Julius Caesar and Brutus that have such historical resonance for the Civil War period crop up frequently in preceding generations, often with similar prominence and fame.
Names
Romans could be known among friends by their praenomen (first name), just as we are today, though they could be also known by their other names, in the case of Scipio his cognomen (third name), which was a common usage among aristocrats. The cognomen was the branch of the family (gens) that was revealed in the second name; thus the Scipio of this novel, Publius Cornelius Scipio, was from the Scipiones branch of the gens Cornelii. The Cornelii Scipiones were not the gens into which he had been born, as he had been adopted by the son of the famous elder Scipio, Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus, when he was a small child: however, following custom, the younger Scipio also retained the gens name of his real father, Lucius Aemilius Paullus Macedonicus. Just as Aemilius Paullus had been awarded the agnomen Macedonicus for his triumph over the Macedonians at Pydna in 168 BC, so the younger Scipio’s full name in 146 BC, Publius Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus Africanus, included the agnomen Africanus inherited from his adoptive grandfather after he had been awarded it following the Battle of Zama in 202 BC. The burden of expectation that this name put on Scipio as a young man, and his efforts to earn it in his own right, form an underlying theme of this novel.
Characters
The following are historical characters unless they are noted as fictional; the biographical notes go up to 146 BC. The names are those used in the novel, followed by their full name where known.
Aemilius Paullus – Lucius Aemilius Paullus Macedonicus (c. 229–160 BC), father of Scipio and distinguished general who defeated the Macedonians at the Battle of Pydna in 168 BC.
Andriscus – Ruler of Adramyttium in Asia Minor who claimed to be the son of Perseus, was brief
ly self-appointed king in Macedonia and was defeated by the Romans under Metellus at the second Battle of Pydna in 148 BC.
Brasis – Fictional gladiator, a former Thracian mercenary captured in Macedonia.
Brutus – Decimus Junius Brutus, a fictional son of the historical Marcus Junius Brutus, of the gens Junia; a friend of Scipio and commander of the Praetorian Guard at the siege of Carthage.
Cato – Marcus Porcius Cato (c. 238–149 BC), famous elder statesman of the Roman Senate who repeatedly called for Carthage to be destroyed, ‘Carthago delenda est’.
Claudia Pulchridina – Of the gens Claudia, fictional wife of Scipio by arranged marriage; her name means ‘beautiful’.
Demetrius – Demetrius I, later named Soter (‘Saviour’); contemporary of Scipio Aemilianus, a scion of the Seleucid dynasty held hostage in Rome during his youth. He became king of Syria from 161 BC.
Ennius – Ennius Aquilius Tuscus, a fictional scion of the original Etruscan branch (the Tuscii) of the gens Aquilia; a close friend of Scipio and commander of the fabri, the army engineers.
Eudoxia – Fictional British slave girl and friend of Fabius.
Fabius – Fabius Petronius Secundus, a fictional legionary from Rome who is the bodyguard and friend of Scipio in the novel.
Gaius Paullus – Gaius Aemilius Paullus, fictional cousin of Scipio on his father’s side.
Gnaeus – Gnaeus Metellus Julius Caesar, of the gens Metelli. Fictional son of Metellus and Julia whose true paternity is revealed in the novel; present as a tribune at the siege of Carthage.
Gulussa – Second son of Masinissa, sent by his father to Rome in 172 BC to present the Numidian case against Carthage; on Masinissa’s death Scipio made him commander of the Numidian forces, which he led in the siege of Carthage.
Hasdrubal – General who defended Carthage in 146 BC; the fate of his wife and children is described by the historian Appian.
Hippolyta – Fictional Scythian princess who joins the academy in Rome and later leads the Numidian cavalry alongside Gulussa in North Africa.
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