The consuls were advancing along the coast of the gulf towards Carthage, when Manlius was recalled with the greater part of the army, and Regulus was left in Africa with only fifteen thousand foot and five hundred horse. Yet even with this small force he remained master of the country. He had gone round the whole Gulf of Tunis as far as Utica, and now he turned upon his steps with the intention of marching upon the capital itself. On his way he was obliged to cross the river Bagradas, and here (so ran the legend) the army was stopped by a huge serpent, so strong and tough of skin that they were unable to destroy it, till they brought up their artillery of catapults and balists; he then continued his route southwards to the Bay of Carthage. He was allowed to take Tunis, which stood within twenty miles of Carthage. The great city was now reduced to the utmost straits. A Roman army was encamped within sight; famine stared the townsmen in the face; the government trembled. In this abject condition the council sent an embassy to ask what terms of peace Regulus would grant.
The consul was so elated by success, that he demanded the most extravagant concessions. The Carthaginians were to give up their fleet, pay all the expenses of the war, and cede all Sicily, with Sardinia, Corsica, and the Balearic Isles, to Rome. When these terms were reported, the government took care to publish them, and public indignation rose against the arrogant invaders. The civic force was not untrained to arms, and they had now to fight for their hearths and altars. A good general was sought for. At that time there happened to be at Carthage a soldier of fortune, by name Xanthippus, a Lacedæmonian.[49] This man had been heard to censure the native generals, and to declare that the victories of the Romans were due, not to their own superior skill, but to the faults of their opponents. He was summoned before the council and desired to give reasons for his remarks. He did so; and, for a moment, the government, dismissing all jealousy, appointed this obscure foreigner general-in-chief. Xanthippus immediately drew together all the mercenaries he could find, and united them with the armed citizens; then, supported by a large body of elephants, he boldly took the field. The Romans were astonished; but they were too much accustomed to victory to hesitate about accepting battle. But they were both outnumbered and outgeneralled. Xanthippus gained a victory as easy as it was complete. Regulus himself was taken prisoner; only two thousand of his men succeeded in making good their retreat to Clupea.
Thus was Carthage delivered by the ability of one man, and that man a foreigner. The government did not improve in wisdom or generosity; their incapable generals resumed the command, and Xanthippus, loaded with honours and presents, prudently withdrew from the jealous city.
The Roman senate did their best to repair this great calamity. The new consuls were ordered to put to sea, and bring off the garrison and fugitives from Clupea. Near the Hermæan promontory they encountered the enemy’s fleet, and again defeated it; and then, having taken up the ships and men at Clupea, they sailed for Syracuse. But a still greater disaster was in store for Rome than the destruction of her African army. This was the loss of that fleet of which she was justly proud. The time of year was about the beginning of the dog-days, when the Mediterranean is apt to be visited by sudden storms. The consuls, upon their passage, were warned that such a storm was at hand; but they were ignorant and rash, and continued their course. Before they could double Cape Pachynus they were caught by the tempest; almost the whole fleet was wrecked or foundered; the coast of Sicily from Camarina to Pachynus was strewed with fragments of ships and bodies of men. Such was the end of the first Roman fleet (255 B.C.).
[255-250 B.C.]
These successive disasters might well raise the hopes of Carthage, and they sent a considerable force into Sicily, with 140 elephants. Agrigentum is said to have been recovered, and no doubt it was expected that the whole island would once more become their own. But the Romans showed a spirit equal to the need. In three months’ time (so wonderful was their energy) a new fleet of 220 sail was ready for sea. The consuls of the year 254 B.C., having touched at Messana to take up the remnants of the old fleet, passed onwards to Drepana. They could not take this strong place, but they were more successful at Panormus, the modern Palermo, which yielded after a short siege to the Roman arms. This was an important conquest.
Next year the fleet touched at several places on the African coast, but without making any impression on the country. Among the shoals and currents of the Lesser Syrtis it ran great danger of being lost; but having escaped this peril, the consuls returned to Panormus and thence stood straight across for the mouth of the Tiber. On the passage they were overtaken by another of those terrible storms, and again nearly the whole fleet was lost. Thus, within three years, the Romans lost two great fleets. This was enough to damp even their courage; and the senate determined to try whether it were not possible to keep their ground in Sicily without a navy. For the present they gave up all claim to the command of the sea, and limited themselves to a small fleet of sixty ships.
Matters continued in this state for two years. Neither party seemed willing to hazard a battle by land; but in 250 B.C. Hasdrubal, the Carthaginian general, was induced to march secretly from Lilybæum to Panormus, in the hope of surprising and recovering that important town. The Roman commandant was the proconsul L. Cæcilius Metellus. He allowed the enemy to approach the walls, and then suddenly sallied forth, covering his attack by a cloud of light troops, slingers, and javelin-men. Some of the elephants being wounded, carried confusion into their own ranks, and Metellus, seizing the occasion, charged the enemy and defeated them utterly. Besides thirteen Carthaginian generals, 120 elephants were taken and carried across the sea on strong rafts to adorn the triumph of the proconsul. The battle of Panormus was the greatest battle that was fought on land in the course of the war, and it was the last. In memory of this victory we find the elephant as a frequent device on the coins of the great family of the Metelli.[b] We may well quote here Polybius’ account both of the loss of the fleet in 255 and of this victory at Panormus or Palermo.