Bands of cavalry overran the domain foraging, and the immense multitude of ferocious tribes finished the work of destruction, sacking the villas and country-houses. The groves were cleared away; each day they chopped down new trees in order to supply the camp with wood, and in these denuded spaces the tiled roofs and towers could no longer be seen. Only smoking and blackened ruins appeared here and there through the deserted fields. A mosaic on a level with the ground was often the only vestige of an elegant villa razed to its foundations by the invaders.
The beleaguered people saw Hannibal's army rapidly swelling. Each day new tribes arrived. It seemed as if all Iberia, subjugated by the prestige of Hannibal, were coming to camp around Saguntum, fired by the fame of its riches. They came on foot or on horseback, dirty, savage, covered with skins or dressed in esparto, carrying crescent-shaped shields and short two-edged swords, eager to fight, and bringing with them showy presents for the African, whose glory dazzled them.
Such of the Saguntines as had trafficked with the tribes of the interior recognized the new arrivals from the walls. They came from very far; some there were who had marched more than a month to reach Saguntum, and they pointed out the Lusitanians, athletic of figure, of whom horrible tales of ferocity were told; the Galicians, who lived on fish and by washing and melting the gold of their rivers; the Asturians, who worked in iron; and the gloomy Basques whose language other nations could not understand. Mixed with them came fresh tribes from Bætica, who had been slow in answering the Carthaginian's call; agile infantry, of olive skin, their hair hanging down their backs, dressed in short white skirts with broad purple borders, and carrying large round shields which served them as floats in crossing streams. The camp stretched along the river and spread over the extensive valley, scattering finally in groups of tents and huts as far as the eye could see. It was a veritable city, larger than Saguntum, which advanced and advanced as if it would swallow her walls.
The day following their courageous sally the Saguntines noticed great activity in the besieging camp—the funeral honors to the queen of the Amazons. They saw Asbyte's body borne in parade on a shield by the women-warriors; then, in the centre of the camp rose a column of smoke from the enormous pyre which consumed her remains.
The beleaguered people guessed the mood of the enemy. Hannibal was lying on his couch, and the army seemed depressed by the hero's suffering. The wizards came and went through the tent, examining the wound, and then they searched the surrounding mountains for mysterious herbs to compound miraculous poultices.
In Saguntum some of the most daring urged another sally to take advantage of that moment of depression for falling upon the enemy and putting them to flight. But the besieging camp was well guarded; Hannibal's brother with the principal captains were on the watch to avoid a surprise; the army lay behind earthen breastworks thrown up around the camp as in a strong city, and they took advantage of this opportunity to accomplish new work for protecting it from the danger of attack. On the other hand the city was no less disheartened by the loss of the priest of Hercules. The people could not explain to themselves how the African chieftain had put the gigantic Theron to death before the eyes of all Saguntum, and the more superstitious saw in this a celestial sign, the omen that the tutelary gods of the city were about to abandon it.
The same determination as at the beginning was still displayed; all were resolved to defend themselves; but the mocking joviality of the early days of the siege had disappeared. They believed that they scented adversity round about them, and the ever swelling numbers of the enemy dispirited them. Each morning they beheld the besieging camp increased. When would Hannibal's allies cease to come?
The merry Grecian city of rich merchants and of pompous Panathenaic festivals presented the solemn aspect of every beleaguered town. The people from the fields who had sought refuge in the city camped in the streets and squares, distilling the odor of a sick and suffering flock. In the temples the wounded dragged themselves to the bases of the columns, groaning; above, on the Acropolis, a funeral pyre smoked day and night consuming the bodies of those who had died on the walls, or had fallen in the streets victims of strange diseases engendered by the congestion of the population.
There were still enough provisions, but there was lack of fruits and vegetables; and the rich, divining the future, gathered in all they could, seeing days of want ahead.
In the poor wards they killed the horses and beasts of burden, roasting the meat over flames kindled in the streets for the roofless refugees.