The Romans stood most in awe of the elephants, and they resorted to some peculiar and extraordinary means of resisting them. They prepared a great number of chariots, each of which was armed with a long pointed spear, projecting forward in such a manner that when the chariots should be driven on toward the elephants, these spears or beaks should pierce the bodies of the beasts and destroy them. The chariots, too, were filled with men, who were all provided with fire-brands, which they were to throw at the elephants, and frighten them, as they came on. These chariots were all carefully posted in front of that part of Pyrrhus's army where the elephants were stationed, and the charioteers were strictly ordered not to move until they should see the elephants advancing.

The battle.
The elephants.
War chariots.
Doubtful victory.

The battle, as might have been expected from the circumstances which preceded it, and from the character of the combatants, was fought with the most furious and persevering desperation. It continued through the whole day; and in the various parts of the field, and during the different hours of the day, the advantage was sometimes strongly on one side, and sometimes on the other, so that it was wholly uncertain, for a long time, what the ultimate result would be. The elephants succeeded in getting round the chariots which had been posted to intercept them, and effected a great destruction of the Roman troops. On the other hand, a detachment of the Roman army made their way to the camp of Pyrrhus, and attacked it desperately. Pyrrhus withdrew a part of his forces to protect his camp, and that turned the tide against him on the field. By means of the most Herculean exertions, Pyrrhus rallied his men, and restored their confidence; and then, for a time, the fortune of war seemed to incline in his favor. In the course of the day Decius was killed, and the whole command of the Roman army then devolved upon Sulpicius, his colleague. Pyrrhus himself was seriously wounded. When, at last, the sun went down, and the approaching darkness of the night prevented a continuance of the combat, both parties drew off such as remained alive of their respective armies, leaving the field covered with the dead and dying. One of Pyrrhus's generals congratulated him on his victory. "Yes," said Pyrrhus; "another such victory, and I shall be undone."

Winter-quarters.

In fact, after trying their strength against each other in this battle, neither party seemed to be in haste to bring on another contest. They both drew away to places of security, and began to send for re-enforcements, and to take measures to strengthen themselves for future operations. They remained in this state of inaction until at length the season passed away, and they then went into winter-quarters, each watching the other, but postponing, by common consent, all active hostilities until spring. In the spring they took the field again, and the two armies approached each other once more. The Roman army had now two new commanders, one of whom was the celebrated Fabricius, whom Pyrrhus had negotiated with on former occasions. The two commanders were thus well acquainted with each other; and though, as public men, they were enemies, in private and personally they were very good friends.

Nicias.
Pyrrhus's physician.
His treachery.

Pyrrhus had a physician in his service named Nicias. This man conceived the design of offering to the Romans to poison his master on condition of receiving a suitable reward. He accordingly wrote a letter to Fabricius making the proposal. Fabricius immediately communicated the letter to his colleague, and they both concurred in the decision to inform Pyrrhus himself of the offer which had been made them, and put him on his guard against the domestic traitor. They accordingly sent him the letter which they had received, accompanied by one from themselves, of the following tenor:

"Caius Fabricius and Quintus Æmilius to King Pyrrhus, greeting:

"You seem to be as unfortunate in the choice of your friends as you are in that of your enemies. The letter which we send herewith will satisfy you that those around you, on whom you rely, are wholly unworthy of your confidence. You are betrayed; your very physician, the man who ought to be most faithful to you, offers to poison you. We give you this information, not out of any particular friendship for you, but because we do not wish to be suspected of conniving at an assassination—a crime which we detest and abhor. Besides, we do not wish to be deprived of the opportunity of showing the world that we are able to meet and conquer you in open war."