Niebuhr's lectures on Roman history, Vol. 2 (of 3)

by Barthold Georg Niebuhr

Hannibal crossed the Pyrenees with fifty thousand infantry and nine thousand horse, numbers which Polybius has likewise evidently taken from the monumental tablet of Hannibal. The passage was effected near Figueras and Rosas towards Roussillon, where it is easiest. He had previously sent envoys to the Gallic tribes from the Pyrenees to the Rhone, to ask them for a free passage through their countries, and had tried to move them to peace by presents of money; so that he reached the Rhone without meeting with any hostility worth mentioning. After the passage over the Pyrenees, signs of a dangerous mutiny began to show themselves; three thousand Carpetanians returned home, and Hannibal also of his own accord sent back other Spaniards whom he suspected. His army seems to have suffered from desertion besides: otherwise it could not have lessened so much as Polybius states. He advanced with the utmost speed. From Carthagena to the Po, Polybius reckons two hundred German miles, which is indeed somewhat exaggerated; but, even then, what difficulties were to be overcome! Until Hannibal came to Cisalpine Gaul, he had to pass through nothing but tribes to whom his march was as a curse. Having gone through the beautiful province of Lower Languedoc, he came to the Rhone in the neighbourhood of Pont St. Esprit. As for the inhabitants of Languedoc, they had been obliged to send their women and children into the Cevennes; but things were now quite different. The Gauls of the Dauphiné, Provence, and those parts, had the rapid river in front of them, and could therefore more readily venture upon resistance; perhaps they had heard moreover that a Roman army was already in Catalonia, nay, even, on the Gallic coast. However much they at other times had scorned the Romans, they now looked to them with eager confidence. P. Scipio had on his voyage to Spain put in at Marseilles, as he had learned that Hannibal, whom he supposed still at the Ebro, was already near the Rhone. He could not but have found it hazardous to take the field against an army of such superior numbers; but in conjunction with the Gauls on the left bank of the Rhone, he could have hindered the enemy’s passage over the river. Hannibal, even without this, had already immense difficulties in his way: the building of a bridge of boats was no easy task. He therefore bought from the people who lived along the bank on which he was, every kind of boat that he could get, and he had canoes made of trees; then he ordered a division to make a night-march higher up the river, so as to cross over on rafts at a spot which was some way off, and threaten the Gauls in the rear. This plan succeeded; yet one cannot understand how the Gauls were not up to it. When the detachment had made its appearance, Hannibal embarked all his forces in the boats, and crossed the stream whilst this division attacked the Gauls. Thus, after inflicting great loss upon the Gauls, he landed on the other side: he got the elephants over with a great deal of trouble. His victory over Nature, which seemed here herself to have set bounds to his advance, made a decisive impression on the neighbouring tribes. Had he delayed eight days longer, Scipio would have barred his way, and hindered him from crossing. He had only thirty-eight thousand infantry, and eight thousand cavalry left; the latter were most of them Numidians, and on the whole were only good for foraging and skirmishing, but not for regular fighting: he had still nearly all his elephants. He now sent some Numidians on to the road to Marseilles, and these fell in with some of the Roman horse: on both sides they were astonished at the meeting. Scipio, who had but just heard of Hannibal’s passing over the Pyrenees, could not have thought that he had already crossed the Rhone. An insignificant skirmish took place, in which the Romans had the advantage. Hannibal, however, did not mind the Roman general, but continued his march.

Here we begin to have most discrepant accounts of Hannibal’s expedition. Had he gone in the direction which Livy makes him take,—up the valley of the Durance by Briançon, Mont Genèvre, and Susa, and coming out near Turin,—he could not have done a better service to the Romans; Scipio would have fallen upon his rear, and on the other side, from the mountains, the Gauls would have laid wait for him, with barricades of felled trees, and the like. There was even among the ancients already some uncertainty as to the road by which Hannibal crossed the Alps; Polybius says nothing about it, because in his time it may have been a thing generally known. Some thought that he had gone over the Little, others, over the Great St. Bernard; others again were even for the Simplon: in times of old, there was no road over Mont Cenis. In these days, opinions are also divided. And yet, after General Melville’s masterly researches, edited by the younger De Luc,[19] which are based on a more accurate survey of the places themselves, there can be no more doubt on the subject: that Letronne, who truly deserves to be spoken of with respect, does not see this, is passing strange. No other road can be meant, but that over the little St. Bernard. In the beginning of October, Hannibal was on the last mountains. The little St. Bernard has no glaciers at all, nor is it much higher than the Brenner; in summer it is even a green Alp, and though indeed for a pretty long time it is covered with snow, this always melts away; at the very top, the soil is still so fertile that rye grows there: on the great St. Bernard, on the contrary, there is everlasting snow. On the mountain over which Hannibal went, was a frequented road, and there he found new-fallen snow. Particularly decisive, however, is the following circumstance: before Hannibal reached the top of the mountain, he had a sharp fight with the Alpine tribes, on which, as Polybius says, he stationed himself with his reserve near a white rock. Now, there is in the whole of that part of the country only one rock of gypsum, which lies near the old road in the Tarantaise; the inhabitants still call it la roche blanche: De Luc remarks that whoever has once passed that way, must needs remember the cliff for ever. The Alps in Polybius mean the whole mountain range from Savoy and Aosta; there are several ridges of them, running one behind the other, to be crossed.

Hannibal had to go higher up the Rhone, that he might get further away from Scipio. Had Scipio dared to follow him, he would have been just as well pleased; for he was sure to have beaten him, and Scipio would have been lost, if defeated. He marched as far as Vienne, a place which was the capital of the Allobroges, which Livy does not mention; that it is Vienne, has also been shown by Melville. Here a civil war was going on. Hannibal took the part of one of the pretenders to the throne, led him on to victory, and got great supplies from him. The Allobroges had at that time the country between the Rhone, the Saone, the Isère, and the west of Savoy. Near Vienne, he left the Rhone, and turned towards Yenne and Chambéry, where Melville has discovered an old Roman road from Chambéry by the great Carthusian monastery: it was used during the whole of the middle ages, and was abandoned only as late as in the seventeenth century. From Chambéry, he came into the Tarantaise, and followed the Isère up to its source. To the Alpine tribes which dwelt in the small valleys, Hannibal’s expedition was a real calamity; it was like a swarm of locusts which eat up all that they had. Hannibal did everything he could to make them friends; yet they all of them withstood him. They did not indeed venture upon open resistance; but they had recourse to cunning, which is the characteristic of weak nations. They brought provisions, and even hostages; and then fell upon the Carthaginians as they were marching through the defiles. But Hannibal had never trusted them, as on the whole he never let himself be deceived: his plan had been to send his baggage in advance, to follow cautiously, and strongly to cover his rear; and thus he managed to beat them off. Yet the Carthaginians suffered a dreadful loss. Melville has shown, that the onward march, although very toilsome, and through unfriendly tribes, was by no means over fields of ice and snow, but across a thickly-peopled, beautiful country: the road winds between the hills through rich and well cultivated mountain valleys, through woods of walnut trees, and corn fields. But when from thence it mounts up higher into the Alps, it becomes exceedingly narrow and difficult, being in most places nothing but a path for beasts of burthen, by which not more than two can barely pass each other; and it runs along the brink of deep mountain steeps, over most of which torrents rush: it is only within the present century that a carriage road has been made. Fifteen days were spent by Hannibal on his march through these mountains; yet for the greater part of that time, his way led through those fine valleys, full of cultivation and wealth, the inhabitants of which one must not deem to have been more savage than the Tyrolese were in the fifteenth century.[20] Thus he came as far as the Little St. Bernard. Had he reached it a month sooner, in August or the beginning of September, no snow would yet have fallen, and he might every where have found fodder for his cattle. The chief difficulty was the carrying of provisions for thirty or forty thousand men, eight thousand horses, and certainly as many as four thousand mules and pack-horses, which were laden with the bread; for, if the snow fell, it was impossible to get fresh grass for the beasts. A great part of the baggage had been taken by the mountaineers. Until he came to the heights of the Little St. Bernard, Hannibal had not much suffered from the cold; want of food and the enmity of the neighbouring tribes were his worst hardships: but now, when he reached the top of the mountain, he was overtaken by a fall of snow, which made the roads quite impassable. Only think, what a dead stop this must have been for Africans! The greatness of the snowdrifts, by which many deep clefts in the rocks were covered over, soon gave rise to accidents; the feet of the horses slipped, and the animals tumbled down the steeps; fodder was scarce, and many elephants died of cold. The army also suffered from hunger, like the French on their retreat from Russia; in those few days, thousands met with their death. The story of Livy, that Hannibal softened the rocks by fire, and split them by means of vinegar, and thus made a way for himself, is a fable. This is only sometimes possible, when there are cliffs of limestone; but to imagine it in the case of a whole army, and with a mountain like the Alps, is one of those things of which one cannot understand how a man of sense can write them down. Particularly dangerous was the descent: with a great deal of trouble they reached a spot, of which Livy speaks just as incomprehensibly as Polybius does clearly. The roads, in fact, were in some places carried round the mountains, so that on one side there was often an abrupt precipice; now it not unseldom happens that torrents undermine a way like this from beneath, and it falls in; or that avalanches bury it. This had happened here. A bit of the road had fallen in a year before, and it had not yet been mended, as Polybius tells us in the most natural manner. Livy, who takes it for granted that Hannibal had altogether made the road for the first time, says that he had now been stopped all at once by a precipice; and that on this he had ordered trees to be felled, and had had them piled up below against the steep, so as to go down by them as on ladders. But according to Polybius, the landslip went down a stadium and a half, that is to say, a thousand feet in depth, to the bed of the river Dora at the mouth of the valley of Aosta. Hannibal tried to go by a new way, having heard perhaps that some huntsmen of the Alps had already struck out several other tracks. It did not answer; and so he had to encamp for three days and three nights in the midst of the snow, that at the spot where the road was broken down, he might make with timber a new one broad enough for the beasts of burthen to pass. This is the place where indeed the distress of the army was overpowering, and it suffered such immense loss, especially in beasts. This difficulty being overcome, they came by and by to the valley of Aosta, where the Salassians dwelt, a cultivated and rather civilized country. The story of Hannibal’s having shown to his army, from the top of the mountain, the blooming land of Italy, is likewise an impossible one, and a rhetorical flourish: from the summit of St. Bernard, one sees nothing but mountains.

Hannibal was now in the valley of Aosta. A great part of his elephants were dead, and his army now consisted of no more than twenty thousand foot (twelve thousand Africans, and eight thousand Spaniards), and six thousand horse, most of them Numidians. It is wonderful how strong the horses here showed themselves to have been; the Numidians must have treated them with great care.

The whole management of the war on the side of the Romans, is a remarkable counterpart of that want of design, and that sluggishness, which in the wars of the revolution so often let the victory fall into the hands of the French. When the Romans heard that Hannibal was going to cross the Alps, they most certainly must have thought him a madman: this supposition alone can account for the slackness of their movements. Scipio, who had advanced as far as Avignon, ought, as he had a fleet, to have been in Lombardy, long before Hannibal reached the St. Bernard. He very likely thought, that there would still be always plenty of time whenever he came; and thus, when he arrived at the Po, Hannibal was already descending the Alps. The reports also of the losses of the Carthaginians, one may fancy to oneself from that logic of absurdity of which we have heard so many examples during the revolution. His condition was now indeed a very bad one for an ordinary general; yet Hannibal, without stopping, hastened on with his army in which typhus fever must necessarily have raged, and which must have looked like a horde of gipsies. Scipio had only two legions, a corresponding number of allies, and a few horse. The Romans were in many respects the slaves of established usage, from which they frequently did not know how to free themselves in an emergency. Thus from ancient times downward, such an army was looked upon as quite large enough, and therefore they did not send more. Part of the Gauls were already in open rebellion; the Boians, the summer before, had beaten a Roman legion, and kept the survivors shut up in Modena,—they dwelt from Parma and Placentia to the frontier of the Romagna,—and by treachery they seized three Romans of rank who had been sent as triumvirs to found Placentia, that they might exchange them for their own hostages. They sent ambassadors to meet Hannibal at the Rhone, and invited him to their country. The Insubrian Gauls beyond the Po were likewise ripe for rebellion; but they did not yet venture upon any open movement. Hannibal marched against the Taurinians, and conquered Turin; and whilst he was engaged there, Scipio had arrived at Genoa, and had crossed the Apennines and the Po, to take up his position in the country of the Insubrians. Here Hannibal turned round to face him. They encountered, for the first time, at the Ticinus, probably in the neighbourhood of Pavia, and to the dismay of the Romans, Hannibal had still a very large army. A cavalry skirmish took place: the Romans were defeated by the Spaniards and the Numidians; Scipio himself was wounded, and only with great difficulty got out of the affray, as some have it, by his son, who was afterwards so famous as P. Cornelius Scipio Africanus. This result of a fight which in itself was insignificant, convinced the Romans how much they had been mistaken as to the condition of Hannibal’s army, and that they should have to keep on the defensive. Scipio abandoned the northern bank of the Po. He had thrown a bridge of rafts over the river, and in the consternation it was broken up too soon: part of the troops, which were to cover the bridge on the left bank, were taken prisoners by the Carthaginians.

The consul Sempronius had effected a landing at Malta, conquered some places on the Italian coast, and taken some booty; he now returned, and went to join Scipio. Here the discipline of the Romans truly shows itself. They knew that nothing is more fatiguing for the soldier, than to march in columns on the road, and they therefore avoided it as much as they could. But now they did a thing which only seems possible under circumstances of extraordinary enthusiasm. The army was not kept together, to march to the place of its destination; but every one was to take his oath on such and such a day to make his appearance at a given place, severe punishment being denounced against the breach of the oath. Sempronius mustered his troops at Puteoli,[21] and there dismissed them with orders to meet him again near Ariminum. From thence they marched to the Trebia, and joined Scipio. What we cannot now understand, is how the consuls could have united; Sempronius must have marched through Liguria by Genoa.[22] Here the two consuls take the command by turns. The accounts of the fight on the Trebia are not even now quite correct. Vaudoncourt has not turned to account his position as a chief officer on the staff: his notions with regard to this battle are quite incomprehensible. As the Romans ford the Trebia in order to engage, and one wing, which is cut off, falls back upon Placentia without recrossing the river, we must necessarily presume that Hannibal was on the right, on the eastern bank of the river, and had crossed the Po below Placentia. It is quite in the style of Hannibal’s tactics to go round the enemy and cut off his retreat, as he was certain of his superiority; just as Napoleon in 1800 passed the Po between Pavia and Piacenza, and placed himself between the bungling, stupid general Melas and his base, so as to bring him to battle at Marengo, and Melas was obliged to conclude the convention. The Romans therefore passed the Po near Piacenza, and Hannibal below this town. This is manifest from the whole position; Major-General Von Schütz of Magdeburg, who is a distinguished tactician, assures us that it could not have been otherwise. This explains also why the Roman camp was removed. The Romans, after they had crossed, had the Trebia behind them (on the west), which made their position a hazardous one, as in case of defeat they would have been driven into the river: for this reason, they placed the Trebia between themselves and Hannibal, as a protection; and they pitched their camp in a strong ground at the foot of the Apennines, where they were nearer to Sempronius. Their object, which was to effect a junction with the army of Sempronius, they had attained, as we have already mentioned; but they were cut off from Rome, and pushed towards Piedmont. If Providence has once decreed that a campaign must come to a hapless end, all kinds of untoward circumstances will crowd upon each other. The wound of Scipio was slow in healing, and he was not able to appear at the head of the army; and thus the Romans were paralysed, whilst Hannibal for two months and a half, ever since his march over the St. Bernard, had made use of his time to strengthen his position, and to restore his army, especially as to horses. He also took from the Romans their magazines, so that they became very hard pressed. Sempronius, when the two armies had joined, looked upon this state of things as highly disgraceful, and insisted upon giving battle; he said that one ought to fight as soon as possible, and not let the Carthaginians seem formidable: Scipio, on the other hand, was cautious, and would not give his consent to this. Hannibal, who knew all that was passing, was very much bent on bringing them to an engagement; for so long as they lay where they were, he could not go into winter-quarters; and he also wished to get the Romans out of the way, that the Gauls might thus be encouraged to declare themselves. He was about two (German) miles south of Piacenza, on the right bank of the Trebia, and the Romans on the other side: he now enticed them on by small skirmishes, in which he let them gain seeming advantages. The river Trebia, in the year 1799, became noted for the battle which Macdonald lost against Suwarow: on that occasion, I gathered exact information concerning it. The locality is very remarkable, and quite tallies with the description of Polybius. It is a mountain torrent with many arms, very broad, and straggling through thickets and heaps of gravel: there are many islets in it in summer; in winter, when the snow melts, or after heavy rain, these are quite flooded over. It is not deep, so that it can always be forded: the banks are overgrown some way up with shrubs. In these, Hannibal placed troops in ambush, and Sempronius thought that he was afraid; but it was Hannibal’s plan to get the Romans to cross the river. It was about Christmas tide, and so he did not wish his soldiers to wade through the river, which was cold as ice: that he wanted the Romans to do. They fell into the snare. Hannibal, on the other hand, had large fires lighted in his camp the evening before, (brandy there was none at that time, except in Egypt, where certainly they knew how to distil, as the whole process is depicted on the walls at Thebes); he also made the men take a good meal of warm food, and rub themselves before the fire with oil; thus they became quite warm and brisk. There was a sharp snow-storm,—the cold is in Lombardy not less severe than in Germany,—the Romans had now the madness to wade during the night through the river, which was so swollen by the snow, that they were up to the chin in water: they got quite benumbed, and they had the pelting storm right in their faces. The fight was a fierce one, as indeed there were thirty thousand Romans against twenty thousand of the enemy; but the Carthaginian cavalry quickly routed that of the Romans, and the Roman infantry also was too tired out to effect any thing. They did what they could; but they were fighting as militia against veterans, besides which they had the elements against them, and when they had passed the river, the men in ambush arose and fell upon their flank. The loss was very great: some were driven into the river, and perished; the left wing—about ten thousand men—escaped to Placentia. The snow-storm was so fearful, and the troops were likewise so much in want of rest, that Hannibal was unable to pursue the enemy, though otherwise he always made the very most of his victories. The Romans therefore, one and all, threw themselves into Placentia, where they had their magazines, and there they remained some time. At first, the consul deceived the senate by false reports; but the truth was soon known. Hannibal took up his quarters on both banks of the Po, and lived in plenty on the stores of the Romans; he wished his troops to have their full rest, and did not care for Placentia. The Insubrians also now declared for him. The Romans, on the other hand, embarked on the Po, and went to Ariminum, where the new consul Flaminius brought them reinforcements.

According to Livy Hannibal tried that very winter to break through the Apennines into Etruria. This is possible, but hardly likely; Polybius does not mention it: it may have been a movement of no consequence, perhaps a reconnoitring. Livy’s description, however, of the locality, and of the struggle which Hannibal had to sustain with the elements, is, as I myself know from experience, a very happy one.

The unlucky honour of the consulship devolved, the next year, on C. Flaminius, a man, whose name has come down to us with disgrace, though, as far as we can judge from his actions, unjustly. He had, when a tribune, carried through the assignment of the Ager Gallicus Picenus, for which the nobles never forgave him; he now, as consul, supported a tribunician law which also gave high offence, and was a remarkable instance of the hypocrisy of the nobility. The aristocracy always rail against trade, business, and so forth, and talk of noble feeling and high-mindedness; and yet, they will not let an advantage slip out of their hands. The new law decreed, that no senator, and no one, whose father had a seat in the senate, should own a sea-going ship of more than a certain tonnage, nor for any other purpose than to convey corn from his estates to Rome; and it therefore debarred the nobility from making money by traffic, and restricted them to what they got from their landed property. Commerce, shipping, and such things, were to be left to the trading class which had now risen, the equites, and the senators were not to interfere with them. Nothing indeed could have been more in the spirit of the Venetian aristocracy in the best times, than such a law; but the grasping nobility of Rome felt so much aggrieved by its operation, that Flaminius was spoken of as a turbulent fellow. Flaminius may have been a rash and hot-headed man; yet I am convinced that he was any thing but a revolutionist. In the same spirit, he was also now decried for having made too much haste, because he had set out for Ariminum, without waiting for the Feriæ Latinæ! Such an accusation is quite unbearable; for it is plain that Hannibal had not waited for the end of the Latin holidays. Flaminius in fact still came too late.

The prospects of the Romans were very gloomy, the enemy being in Italy with a superior force. And when they raised new legions, a great disadvantage now shewed itself; for the veterans were lost, and the Roman system of tactics was the very worst when the troops were not well trained, (hence the defeat at Cannæ,) as, on the other hand, it was the best with practised soldiers: they ought now to have formed in phalanx only, so as to keep their ground by means of masses. Hannibal had three roads before him, two of them through Tuscany, and one along the Adriatic to Rimini; there lay the army of Sempronius, reinforced by the fresh draughts which the new consul had brought with him. In Tuscany, the Romans must have expected no attack whatever, nor does any army seem to have been stationed there, unless perhaps an Etrurian levy at most; for Hannibal met with no resistance at all when he had resolved to go through the marshes. One of the roads was through the Apennines, by Prato to Florence; the other, from Bologna by Pietramala and Barberino, where the Apennines are broadest and wildest. The latter of these must at that time have been impassable, having perhaps been left to grow wild as a protection against the Gauls; it also passed too close by the Apennines,[23] and Flaminius might have arrived before its difficulties were overcome. He therefore chose the other road. With regard to this, much dispute has unaccountably arisen, and even the judicious and excellent Strabo is mistaken in thinking of the marshes near Parma: in Tuscany, no one now has a doubt about it. The road in question led by Lucca and Pisa. It is a very pleasant one now; but formerly the outlet of the Arno was a shallow gulf running up into the land as far as Sendi,[24] and this had been filled up from time immemorial, and had become a marsh like the Pontine, only it was not quite so unhealthy. Even now, on the northern side, one still sees a succession of lakes, six German miles long; the marshes drained by canals may everywhere be traced. This extends as far as Pisa, which lies somewhat higher, and is connected with the fruitful country of Lucca. Here, by Lucca where in spring all is a vast lake, we must presume the march of Hannibal to have been. He had learned that it was not a morass, but that it could be passed, although the whole way was under water: the Romans, however, did not expect any inroad from thence. Hannibal very likely went first to Modena, in order to deceive the Romans, and then turned off to the right. The difficulties of the march may have been somewhat exaggerated; but on the whole, there is a correct notion at bottom. Hannibal lost very many men and horses, and all his remaining elephants but one: he himself lost an eye. After three days and a half, he got out near Fiesole, and marched behind Florence into the upper valley of the Arno, which even as early as that time was drained; and he allowed his soldiers, among whom there were now already many Gauls, to console themselves for the toils which they had gone through.[25] The Romans under Flaminius were encamped near Arezzo. He believed that Hannibal would now burst upon Ariminum, and so he wished to go across the Romagna to the assistance of the Romans there. But Hannibal now suddenly appeared in the heart of Etruria, on which Flaminius broke up in all haste, that he might get the start of him in reaching the road to Rome. Hannibal advanced to Chiusi, wasting the country on his way; Flaminius followed with his utmost speed. Among the hypocritical reproaches made against him was also this, that he had not stopped his march when a standard stuck fast in the ground,—a superstition which, to use the remark of Polybius, is beyond all conception. Hannibal went on from the upper valley of the Arno below Cortona, having the lake of Perugia (Trasimenus) on his left, still on the road to Rome. He had got ahead of Flaminius by some days’ marches; the latter with hurried speed pressed on from Cortona. Hannibal could now already discern the goal, and he wished for a decisive battle. When the Romans reached the pass on the south side, they found it beset. On that very morning, there was an impenetrable fog, so that they saw neither the hills nor the lake: the troops in front kept pushing on, in order to find room. When these were already attacked at the defile, the men behind, as they were marching in a long column, did not perceive any thing of it; and now the rear itself was charged by the troops which had been posted on the hills. Then the Carthaginians wheeled to the right, until they outflanked the Romans, and thus drove them towards the lake; and these, in order to force their way, again and again assailed the intrenchments of the defile, without effecting anything. The battle had a great resemblance to the unfortunate affair of Auerstedt, where continual assaults were likewise made in vain, and one division sacrificed after another. At last, about six thousand men made an assault upon the hills, broke through, and thus made their escape: the rest were either driven into the lake, or taken prisoners. In Dutens Manuel du Voyageur, and other books, it is stated that the names of two spots of that neighbourhood, la Ossaja and Ponte di Sanguinetto, referred to the battle on the Trasimene lake; yet at the latter place a battle cannot possibly have been fought, and la Ossaja was as late as in the sixteenth century called Orsaria, that is, bear’s-garden, because the lords of Perugia kept there the bears and wild beasts for their sports.

Just as Shakspeare connects awful natural phenomena with frightful moral ones, and as Thucydides in the Peloponnesian war always mentions such phenomena, thus also during the war of Hannibal the earth was convulsed with throes. The year of the battle at the Trasimenus was, as Pliny says, richer in earthquakes than had ever been known in the memory of man: fifty-seven of them were observed. We shall not discuss whether these were all on different days, or whether it was always the same one on different points. Many places lay in ruins, as Cannæ in Apulia; others lost their walls. But we cannot believe what Livy relates, that during the battle such a dreadful earthquake had happened, that the walls of many Italian towns fell down, and yet that the contending armies were not aware of it. It is possible that the thick fog was connected with this earthquake. Fogs are, however, very frequent there at that time of the year: I have myself seen a very thick one in the same neighbourhood, which very strongly reminded me of the battle at the Trasimene lake. Flaminius himself fell bravely fighting. Although his guilt is infinitely small when compared with the charges which have been laid upon him, yet, according to my views of the battle, he is not quite to be acquitted of carelessness; but in great events which are to change the destinies of the world, a fatality rules, which blinds the eyes even of the very shrewdest.