[ca. 1500-600 B.C.]
The Phœnicians, as already observed, were among the first who, attracted by the never-failing instinct of gain, directed their course to a country which promised the highest advantages to their commerce. The precise period of their entering into relations with the inhabitants is unknown. For some time their settlements, of which Gades, now Cadiz, was the first and most powerful, were confined to the coasts of Bætica, whence they supplied the natives with the traffic of Asia Minor and the shores of the Mediterranean, in exchange for the more valuable productions of the peninsula, such as gold, silver, and iron.[1] Previously to their arrival, the use of these metals was, it is said, unknown to the Celts and Iberians. At first, for the convenience of their trade and their worship the Phœnicians obtained permission to build magazines and temples: these soon expanded into villages, and the villages into fortified towns. Besides Cadiz, Malaga, Cordova, and other places of minor note were monuments of their successful enterprise, and proofs of their intention to fix their permanent abode in a country on which nature had lavished her choicest gifts. In time they penetrated into the interior, and arrived in the heart of the mountainous districts of the north, probably to superintend the operations of the mines which they had prevailed on the natives to open. Coins, medals, and ruins, attesting their continued location, have been found in most provinces of Spain, and even at Pamplona in Navarre. Almost everywhere have they left traces of their existence, not only in medallic and lapidary inscriptions, but in the religion, language, and manners of the people.
It is possible, however, that the residence of this people in Spain may have been confounded with that of the Carthaginians. The similarity in language, manners, and superstitions might naturally have diminished the distinction between the two nations, and in time destroyed it. The uncertainty which hangs over this period, and the apparent incongruity of the few dates handed down to us, with the transactions which accompany them, confirm the suspicion. The whole period, indeed, from the first settlement of the Tyrians to the wars between the rival republics of Rome and Carthage, is too conjectural to deserve the name of historical, though some few facts are seen to glimmer through the profound darkness which surrounds them.
THE GREEK COLONIES; THE CARTHAGINIAN CONQUEST
[ca. 600-227 B.C.]
The successful example of the Phœnicians stimulated the Greeks to pursue the same advantages. The Rhodians arrived on the coast of Catalonia, and founded a town, which they called Rhodia (Rosas) from the name of their island. They were followed by the Phocians, who dispossessed their countrymen of Rosas, and extended their settlements along the shores of Catalonia and Valencia. Other expeditions departed from the numerous ports of Greece, towards the same destination, but at intervals considerably distant from one another, and gave names to new establishments, some of which may be still recognised, notwithstanding the changes that time has made. It does not appear that either the Phœnicians or the Greeks aimed at domination; the towns which they founded, and continued to inhabit, were but so many commercial depots—populous indeed, but filled with peaceable citizens, whose lucrative occupations afforded them neither time nor inclination for hostilities. Not so with the Carthaginians, who joined all the avarice of merchants to all the ambition of conquerors.
The African republic had long watched with jealousy the progressive prosperity of the Tyrians, and waited for an opportunity of supplanting them. That opportunity at length arrived (480 B.C.). The avarice of these merchants had caused them to adopt measures which the high-spirited natives considered as oppressive. A dispute arose: both parties recurred to arms; and, after a short struggle, the lords of the deep were forced to give way before their martial enemies. Several of the Phœnician settlements fell into the hands of the victors, who appeared bent on rescuing their soil from these all-grasping strangers. Seeing Cadiz itself threatened, the latter implored the assistance of the Carthaginians, who had already a settlement on the little island of Iviza. The invitation was eagerly accepted; perhaps, as has been asserted, the Carthaginians had fomented the misunderstanding, and urged it to an open quarrel. However this be, they landed a considerable force on the Bætican coast; and, after a few struggles, the details of which we should vainly attempt to ascertain, they triumphed over both Phœnicians and natives, and seized on the prize they had so long coveted. Thenceforth Cadiz served as a stronghold whither they could retreat whenever danger pressed too heavily, and as an arsenal where fetters might be manufactured for the rest of Spain.
The progress of the Carthaginian arms, we are told, was irresistible; it was not, however, rapid, if any reliance is to be placed on the dates of ancient writers: the provinces of Andalusia, Granada, Murcia, Valencia, and Catalonia did not acknowledge the supremacy of the republic until, with some other provinces, they were overrun, rather than subdued, by Hamilcar, father of the great Hannibal (235 B.C.), and most of the warlike nations in the interior, especially in the mountainous districts, never afterwards bent their necks to the yoke, though the veteran armies of Africa were brought against them.
Eight years were spent by the Carthaginian general in extending and consolidating his new conquests. He had need of all his valour—and few captains had ever more—to quell the perpetual incursions of tribes glorying in their independence, and strangers to fear. For this purpose he built several fortresses (the important city of Barcelona is said to have been among the number), in which he distributed a portion of his troops to overawe the surrounding country; while, with another portion, he moved from place to place, as occasion required his presence. Probably his severity alienated the minds of the people from the domination he laboured to establish. He was checked in the career of his conquests by the Edetani and Saguntines, who openly revolted, and made vigorous preparations for their defence. He fell upon them, but neither the number of his forces nor his own bravery could succeed against men to whom the hope of freedom and of revenge gave irresistible might. Two-thirds of his army perished, and himself among the number. His son Hannibal being too young to succeed him, the administration of the Carthaginian provinces and the conduct of the war devolved, by a decree of the senate, on his son-in-law Hasdrubal, who adopted towards the natives a line of conciliation; he could be cruel when he chose; but as there is reason to believe that he aimed at an independent sovereignty, he wished to secure their support in the event of a struggle with Carthage. Punic loyalty, like Punic faith, could subsist no longer than a regard to self-advantage would permit.