But the strangest thing of all was the way in which the vanquished Romans met their fate and rallied from defeat, refusing to recognise their disasters as more than momentary checks. Herein it was that the Roman proved himself a very different person from the typical Greek, of, for example, the best day of Athens. Instead of acknowledging defeat and accepting or offering terms of surrender, the Romans indignantly rejected all overtures from Pyrrhus, and set desperately to work to rehabilitate an army and win back their laurels, declaring that they would never rest content while the enemy remained on Italian soil; and in due time they made their word good. Pyrrhus, indeed, for a period of two years left Italian soil, not to return to Greece, but to go to Sicily, there to aid the Syracusans who were beset by the Carthaginians. Recognising in Pyrrhus a common enemy, the Carthaginians and the Romans for the first and last time in their history formed an alliance, and the Carthaginians did good service for the cause in defeating the fleet of Pyrrhus when on its way back from Sicily. Beyond this, however, the land-forces of Rome—and up to this time it was solely as a land power that Rome could lay claim to great importance—were left to their own resources in dealing with the Epirot enemy. This resource, however, proved in the end quite sufficient, for in the great battle of Beneventum, in the year 275 B.C., the tables were turned on Pyrrhus and his forces were unequivocally routed. Nothing remained for him but to return to Epirus, where local wars also claimed his attention.
It is more than likely that in thus retreating from Italy, Pyrrhus intended some day to return and revenge himself for his losses, but if so the intention never became a reality, for three years later the greatest warrior of his time was killed at Argos after a victorious siege of that city. Meantime Rome had proved herself able to cope with the Epirot invasion, and she was never again to be seriously threatened from that direction.
It would probably be difficult to overestimate the value to the Roman commonwealth of this test of skill with Pyrrhus and his famed Macedonian phalanx in giving them confidence in themselves and in their own prowess which should stand them in good stead in meeting those other enemies who must needs be put down before Rome could become what she was now aspiring to be, Mistress of the World.[a]
PYRRHUS IN ITALY
Pyrrhus was now in his thirty-eighth year. His whole life had been a course of adventure and peril. His father, Æacides, had been king of Epirus; and the young prince, being left an orphan at the age of five amid the troubles which followed the death of Alexander the Great, led a wandering and uncertain life, till, at about seventeen years of age, he sought refuge at the court of Antigonus, the Macedonian king of Syria. Here he formed a friendship with the king’s son, the celebrated Demetrius Poliorcetes, and was present on the bloody field of Ipsus (301 B.C.), which deprived Antigonus of his life, and Demetrius of his succession. After this defeat, he was received at the magnificent court of Ptolemy Soter, the first Macedonian king of Egypt, as a hostage for his friend Demetrius. Here Pyrrhus found favour with Queen Berenice, who gave him in marriage Antigone, her daughter by a former marriage, and persuaded Ptolemy to assist him in recovering his Epirot sovereignty, where he established himself so firmly that on the death of Cassander, he disputed with his former friend Demetrius the succession to the throne of Macedon. For a time he was master of the eastern provinces; but, after a seven months’ reign, Pyrrhus was again driven across the mountains into Epirus (287 B.C.). For the next few years he lived at peace; built Ambracia as a new capital of his dominions, and reigned there in security and magnificence. He was in the prime of life, handsome in person, happy in temper, popular from his frankness and generosity, and reputed to be a skilful soldier. But neither his nature nor his restless youth had fitted him for the enjoyment of happy tranquillity. He had married as his second wife the daughter of Agathocles of Syracuse; the exploits of that remarkable man fired his soul; he remembered that Alcibiades, that Alexander, that every Greek conqueror had looked to the West as a new scene for enterprise and triumph; and he lent a ready ear to the solicitations of the Italian envoys. After defeating the Romans and Carthaginians, he might return as king of southern Italy and Sicily, and dictate terms to the exhausted monarchs of Macedon and Asia. These had been the dreams of less romantic persons than himself.[44]
[281-280 B.C.]
It was at the end of the year 281 B.C. that he left Epirus with a force of about twenty thousand foot, and four thousand or five thousand horse, together with a squadron of twenty elephants, held by the Greeks at that time to be a necessary part of a complete armament. On the passage his ships were scattered by a storm, but eventually they all reached Tarentum in safety. His infantry was in part supplied by Ptolemy Ceraunus, now king of Macedon. His cavalry were Thessalian, the best in Greece. It was a small army for the execution of designs so vast. But he trusted to the promises of the Lucanians and Samnites; and he also intended to make the Tarentines into soldiers. No sooner had he landed, than this people found how true were the words of their fellow-citizen. They had meant Pyrrhus to fight their battles, like his kinsman, Alexander of Molossus; but he resolved that they also should fight his battles. He shut up the theatres and other places of public amusement; closed the democratic clubs; put some demagogues to death, and banished others; and ordered all citizens of military age to be drilled for the phalanx. The indolent populace murmured, but in vain. The horse had taken a rider on his back to avenge him on the stag, and it was no longer possible to shake him off.
With the early spring the Romans took the field. Ti. Coruncanius, plebeian consul for the year 280, commanded against the Etrurians, with orders to make a peace if possible. P. Valerius Lævinus, his patrician colleague, was to march through Lucania, so as to prevent the Lucanians from joining the king; while Æmilius, consul of the former year, was stationed at Venusia, to hold the Samnites and Apulians in check. A Campanian legion, composed of Mamertines, commanded by one Decius Jubellius, an officer of their own choosing, occupied Rhegium, in order (we may suppose) to intercept communications from Sicily.
As the king moved along the coast from Heraclea he came in view of the Roman army, encamped on the right bank of the little river Siris. His practised eye was at once struck by the military order of the enemy’s camp. And when he saw them cross the broad but shallow stream in the face of his own army, and form their line before he could close with them, he remarked, “In war, at least, these barbarians are no way barbarous.”