But there was one city south of the Ebro which still maintained independence. This was Saguntum, an ancient colony from the Greek island of Zacynthus. Its site on the coast of modern Valencia is marked by the present town of Murviedro (Muri Veteres), rather more than halfway between New Carthage and the mouth of the Ebro. Saguntum had been for some time in alliance with Rome; and therefore, though it was on the Carthaginian side of the Ebro, was by Roman custom entitled to support. In the year 219 B.C. this city was at war with a neighbouring tribe, and Hannibal eagerly accepted an invitation to destroy the ally of his enemy. He surrounded Saguntum with a large army; but the people held out for eight months with that heroic obstinacy which seems to distinguish all dwellers on Spanish ground, when engaged in defensive warfare. In many respects the siege of Saguntum brings that of Saragossa to mind.
While the siege yet lasted, the Roman senate had sent envoys to Hannibal, requiring him to desist from attacking their ally. He replied coldly, that “he could not answer for their safety in his camp; they had better seek redress at Carthage.” They went on their way; but meantime the news of the fall of Saguntum reached Rome, and an embassy was sent to Carthage to demand that Hannibal, the author of the mischief, should be given up. There was a large party, that of Hanno and the government, which would probably have complied with this demand. But Rome was hated at Carthage, and the government did not dare to oppose the general feeling. They replied that Saguntum was not mentioned in the treaty of Hasdrubal; even if it were, that treaty had never been ratified by the government, and therefore was of no authority. Then Q. Fabius Buteo, chief of the Roman envoys, doubling his toga in his hand, held it up and said: “In this fold I carry peace and war: choose ye which ye will have.” “Give us which you will,” replied the suffet. “Then take war,” said the Roman, letting his toga fall loose. “We accept the gift,” cried the senators of Carthage, “and welcome.”
Thus war was formally declared against Rome. But before we pass on to the narrative of this war, it will be well to form some idea of the extraordinary man who, by his sole genius, undertook and supported it with success for so many years.
Hannibal was now in his twenty-eighth year, nearly of the same age at which Napoleon Bonaparte led the army of the French republic into Italy. And when we have named Napoleon, we have named, perhaps, the only man, ancient or modern, who can claim to be superior, or even equal, to Hannibal as a general. Bred in the camp, he possessed every quality necessary to gain the confidence of his men. His personal strength and activity were such that he could handle their arms and perform their exercises, on foot or on horseback, more skilfully than themselves. His endurance of heat and cold, of fatigue and hunger, excelled that of the hardiest soldier in the camp. He never required others to do what he could not and would not do himself. To these bodily powers he added an address as winning as that of Hasdrubal his brother-in-law, talents for command fully as great as those of his father Hamilcar. His frank manners and genial temper endeared him to the soldiery; his strong will swayed them like one man. The different nations who made up his motley arms—Africans and Spaniards, Gauls and Italians—looked upon him each as their own chief.
Amid the hardships which his mixed army underwent for sixteen years in a foreign land, there never was a mutiny in his camp. This admirable versatility of the man was seconded by qualities required to make the general. His quick perception and great sagacity led him to marvellously correct judgment of future events and distant countries—which in those days, when travellers were few and countries unknown, must have been a task of extraordinary difficulty. He formed his plans after patient inquiry, and kept them profoundly secret till it was necessary to make them known. But with this caution in designing was united marvellous promptness in executing. “He was never deceived himself,” says Polybius, “but never failed to take advantage of the errors of his opponent.” Nor was he a mere soldier. In leisure hours he delighted to converse with Greeks on topics of intellectual cultivation. As a statesman, he displayed ability hardly inferior to that which he displayed as a general.
Against these great qualities, he is said to have been cruel even to ferocity, and treacherous beyond the common measure of his country. As to perfidy, we hear of no single occasion on which Hannibal broke faith with Rome. As to cruelty, there can be no doubt that he was indifferent to human life; and on several occasions we shall find him, under the influence of passion, treating his prisoners with great barbarity. But though he had been trained to consider the Romans as his natural enemies, to be hunted down like wolves, we shall find him treating worthy foemen, such as Marcellus, with the magnanimity of a noble nature.
But whatever might be the ability, whatever the hardihood of the young general, he required it all. To penetrate from the Ebro to the Po—with chains of giant mountains to bar his progress, through barbarous and hostile countries, without roads or maps or accurate knowledge of his route, without certain provision for the food and clothing of his army, without the hearty concurrence of his own government—was an undertaking from which the boldest might shrink, and to have accomplished this march with triumphant success would alone justify the homage which is still paid to the genius of Hannibal.[b]
FOOTNOTES
[47] [In the words of Polybius,[d] “App. Claudius with unspeakable bravery passing the strait by night, got at length into Messana.”]
[48] [Hamilcar took command of an army in Sicily six years before the close of the war. The story of his brilliant achievements reads like a romance; but all his energy, skill, and daring did not save his city from defeat.]