The loss on the Carthaginian side was now terrible, as the Romans, forcing their way into the town by the gate and ramparts alike, advanced, killing every living creature they met, whether man, woman, child, or even domestic animals. This was done to strike terror into the heart of the people, and was an old Roman custom upon such occasions. Scipio, meanwhile, with a band of warriors continued to advance along the ramparts, and soon met in hand-to-hand combat Elissa with her guard. He cried to her to yield, but her only reply was a dart, which transfixed his shield, for he had now but one. The terrible hand-to-hand struggle continued on the walls, the assailants and defenders alike seizing each other by the waist and casting each other over.
At length, just as Scipio thought he was about to capture Elissa and her few remaining followers, she gave an order to her men, who, all turning swiftly, ran until they reached the gate in the wall of the palace, which they entered, the gate being closed and the drawbridge raised in the face of the victorious Scipio, who was thus baulked, for the moment at all events, of his prey. It would, indeed, have been a triumph for Elissa could she have but continued the struggle until nightfall. For then she and those with her might have escaped by a secret path they knew of down the rocks. But it was not to be! Scarcely had she gained the shelter of the garden when a storming party of truculent seamen, headed by Caius Lælius himself, with whom was also Marcus Primus, burst over the walls on the seaward side. And now another terrible struggle took place—this time in the garden—the flowers being all trampled down, and the garden walks and statues being soon covered with blood.
At length, old Gisco and nearly all her guard being killed, Elissa herself now quite exhausted, with a javeline transfixed in her shoulder, resolved to die, sword in hand. She rushed upon Caius Lælius, calling upon him loudly by name to slay her and so save her from dishonour. But, her foot slipping in a pool of blood upon some marble slabs near the fountain, she fell. Caius Lælius himself seized her, and easily disarming her, made her his prisoner, thus protecting her from further injury. And then Caius took the palace and all within it without more bloodshed. For none but women were left alive inside.
In the meanwhile, Mago and all his remaining men in the citadel and upon the hill of Æsculapius had surrendered, and after this the order was given to plunder the town.
Thus did the city of New Carthage fall into the hands of the Romans under Scipio. He, the gates of the garden being thrown open to him from within, arrived upon the scene before Elissa had been removed within the palace walls, and terrible, indeed, was the scene of carnage that met his view in the once peaceful garden. For, animated by Elissa’s personal presence, the palace guard and Elissa’s own body-guard had fought around her with the heroism of despair. Thus, there were quite as many corpses or wounded men of the Romans as of the Carthaginians lying about in all directions. Some even were lying dead or dying, half in and half out of the fish-pond, the waters of which were crimson with blood, while the gold-fish, sickened by the gore, were swimming round and round in little circles, belly uppermost.
In other places the bodies of dead men, some of whom yet grasped each other by the throat, were half-buried in masses of geranium or carnation plants, the crimson of whose petals formed but a variety of colour with the crimson and purple hues of the still warm life-blood with which the green leaves were all drenched and befouled. Others, again, in falling, had clasped a standard rose-bush, and, pulling it down with them, now lay with their pale faces turned skywards, buried in a mass of sweet-scented roses pressing against their ghastly cheeks.
Although her left shoulder was pierced and mangled, Elissa’s wound was not apparently very dangerous. She had retained perfect consciousness while Caius Lælius extracted the weapon, which he did by cutting off the haft and drawing the head through; but from the agony caused by this operation she had swooned and fallen back insensible only a moment before Scipio arrived upon the scene of the bloody conflict; and she was now lying as one dead.
CHAPTER VI.
CŒCILIA’S DEGRADATION.
Scipio burst into the palace garden flushed with the joy of victory, but when he saw his beloved Elissa lying at his feet, he forgot everything, save that there lay, apparently lifeless, the body of the woman whom he loved. He stood for a moment gazing, then angrily turned upon Lælius.
“What is this, Caius? Hast thou slain her? Thou hast surely not dared to slay Elissa? But nay, my friend,” he continued, his anger quickly turning to grief, “I know that thou didst love her even as I did. Forgive me for thus wronging thee. Give me thy hand, my comrade.”